laws

THE LAW OF DIMINISHING RETURNS

(the law of) diminishing returns
phrase of diminish—

1. Used to refer to a point at which the level of profits or benefits gained is less than the amount of money or energy invested—

I talked to a man recently, a very accomplished man, who acts like he has the world by the tail. And by that I mean, he looks down on everyone who hasn’t had the good fortune of being him.

Whatever life decisions you’ve made, how you’ve chosen to invest your money, even what music you listen to is met with butt-puckered lips that to go along, like a fine wine pairing, with his disapproving face. (I have it on good authority that when you purchase them at the Smug Store—they come as a pair.)

That’s okay, dude. Gimme all ya got. I worked in Beverly Hills for two decades. Water off a duck’s back.

Anyway, all evening long, as I listened to his risk-averse, conservative, privileged and inflexible views on life, I couldn’t help but wonder, How does his poor wife put up with this shit?

Then I remembered. She does it by trotting off on one of her horses, that’s how.

Oh, dear God, how I wish I had that ability.

The ability to bend to someone else’s will. The ability to let someone else run my life. To bankroll it with a marionette’s worth of strings attached. And then buy me a pony to reward my compliance.

I wish I had a price for my silence. It would have made my life SO much easier.

Because, you see, I was born with a big mouth. A big, loud, mouth that says stuff that makes guys like that shrivel in their underpants. Stuff like, “You’re not the boss of me!” And “Take your fucking pony and shove it!”

Some women trade all of the flack, disagreements, head-butting, and power struggles that happen in relationships for diamonds, vacations, fast cars, and ponies.

Not me. I call that foreplay… or Tuesday.

Unfortunately for me, (and probably for any man who has had a serious relationship with me) I have never been one of those women you could placate with bling. Biting my tongue and swallowing my opinions is much too high of a price to pay—for such little reward.

The law of diminishing returns.
Just one of the laws I have come to live by.
Along with no right turn on red, and chew before swallowing.

Carry on,
xox

Hey Guys,
How do you feel about this?

What? Me?

Well, I haven’t had any since it started giving me anxiety attacks in the ’80’s, but up until that point I smoked a joint everyday for years.

When I did, it felt no more harmful to me than a glass of wine — except for the fact that I ate everything that wasn’t nailed down, and could sit for HOURS listening to music on headphones.
But let’s also take into account that I was in my twenties and it was the 70’s and 80’s.

No harm, no foul I guess, and when it stopped being fun or feeling good — I quit.

So is it addictive? Not in my opinion.

Is it a gateway to harder drugs?
I’ve heard stories that say yes it is, my experience is that I’ve known tons of people who smoke pot where that has not been the case.

Is it the gateway to slacker-ville?
Again, I’m always surprised when a highly ambitious, super achiever, mover and shaker lights up a joint at a party — hardly the “Spicoli” slacker profile.
We’ve been offered some by a multi-billionaire and a burned out, fifty year old surf bum…so I’m gonna say it depends on the person.

Should it be illegal? I don’t think so.

To each his own I always say.

Do you agree with Jason? Or me? Weigh in you guys.

Carry on & Happy Sunday!
xox