>> Thursday, August 23, 2007
I really wish I lived in the Land of the Free. I mean, I live in America, but we are really just slaves here ourselves - we just don't know or admit it.
I have a house for which I am a debt slave as long as I will ever live there. It's easily the best house I've ever lived in and I will not-so-humbly admit that it's a fine house indeed. But like all those fancy cars that "rich folk" drive - well, at least the vast majority of them - I own this house as muc as they own their cars. It is to admit that the bank which truly owns such things and we are but renters of the property.
I'd like to leave, but getting out of here seems difficult and intimidating. I'm currently favoring the dream of living on a sailboat, preferably one with a solar-powered motor for emergencies. I don't suppose that solar power has quite reached the commercial stage of being able to power a boat motor, but I wish to be free of commerce and free of boundaries.
I suppose the first order of business however is to learn to sail. That will be difficult enough as I don't even know where to begin with that, either. But it is a stepping stone on the path.
I dream about this because I imagine how delightful a life could be if my only responsibility would be to find fish enough for the family to eat for the day, much the like Mexican fisherman from the story in the Four Hour Work Week. That story stands out quite well in my memory. The basic point of it is that a vacationing businessman observes a fisherman in his work and suggests he embark on a corporate path to build a fishing company that would finance a life in which he could retire... to fish at his leisure.
More later. Bus has arrived.