Not Smart Enough To Be Dumb

I was reading the other day about the October Revolution in Russia in 1918, and how Lenin, and eventually Stalin, really, really liked the industrial workers, and really, really hated rich folk. The richies were either shot or sent off to Siberia, while the workers got to live as long as they kept their pieholes shut, and of course, kept working. As I look upon my own financial trajectory in life, I'm pretty sure I might have lived to see 1919, and I'm not very happy about it.

Fast forward to 2010 and the pageantry of a show called Dancing With The Stars. This season, like all others, features those whose star has set, some whose star is rising, and others who somehow peeled away the Golden Ticket from the Wonka bar of life to be on national tv and get paid to dance ... and hang out with Russians in skimpy clothes. Such is the case of a contestant with the moniker of, "The Situation." Now, aside from the fact that he got booted before the halfway point and was worse at dancing than Elaine on Seinfeld, it remains that he was asked to be on the show, and I was not.

Here's what I have gathered about said Situation. He's really good at working out, shaving the side of his head, and bedding young, drunk women. These impressive attributes have garnered Mr. Situation a hefty check book. He's expected to make about 5 MILLION dollars in 2010, plus release an autobiography (also known as a coloring book), and has a rap song. All of this has led me to come to the nirvana moment of realizing that I've been doing everything wrong for the past 25 years.

Supposedly, in a time long, long ago, if you worked really hard, didn't get a girl pregnant or go to prison, the world was your oyster and there was shuckin' to be done. Now, not so much. This is not about ranting about the silliness of society or the incessant desire to be famous although you have no discernible talent. This is a teaching moment. It's a guide to financial security.

Since I have two children to put through college and things my wife and I want to do after they flee, what we're doing now isn't going to cut it. Things are going to have to be different around the Parker house. First, Joy and I need about 20 more children. Certain medical procedures have deemed that this will require adoption. Which means 20 little Asian adoptees will soon be descending upon our crib. Due to our new-found faith in something we'll make up, we will change their names to those of Disney characters. Out of respect we will avoid Goofy, but will accept Geppetto. TLC or Spike TV will learn of our hardship, and offers will be made. Step 1 complete!

Step 2 to Situation-like wealth will involve a little more determination, and a willingness to get dirty. Marital woes, female plastic surgery that causes the tabloid press to use the word, "zeppelins," and me being photographed from a low angle getting out of a limo with no underwear, are all tried and true methods to personal wealth. Throw in brushes with the law, accusations of drug use, joining Scientology, and sleeping in an oxygenated pod, and our 15 minutes will sprout like Nicholas Cage's hair plugs.

Step 3 will either involve a crash-n-burn of your finances and personal life, or you'll be one of the lucky few who gets to learn the Viennese Waltz on prime-time tv while sporting a full spray on tan. So go forth my plodding peasants and sow the seeds of mediocrity! Oh, and don't forget to call that adoption agency.