Hark, a Bum

I’m totally useless and a drain on society fulfilling no beneficial function whatsoever. I’ll be 50 in one year. I have nothing to show for myself; no addictions, no high blood pressure, no ulcers, no cholesterol problems; no health problems physical or mental other than the occasional guilt over failing to be a great American entrepreneur.

Thus wrote columnist Tom Chartier in “I am a Bum” in 2004. Let’s skip over the obvious smug remark that maybe Tom shouldn’t have anchored his life goals in Conservative Libertarianism. Come over to the light side, Tom. We have fun here.

But, wait, it looks like he comes to that conclusion himself:

I’m a house husband [now]. My job is to hang out with my son. Oh sure, this means I won’t get the penthouse suite, a company limo and will never get to sit with Wayne Gretzky in his luxury box at the Staples Center but I don’t really care. I will also never get to make underlings squirm in terror at the thought of being told their services will no longer be required, but “say hello to the wife and kids and don’t forget the fruit basket on your way out.” Oh sure, it’s a sacrifice but I am willing to make it. Oddly enough, unlike most of the big Kahunas out there standing center-ring running the show, these things don’t give me any satisfaction. I don’t even enjoy humiliating people, ruining lives or squashing bugs. So I guess there’s no point in me running for office but…I don’t care!

Now you’re getting it, Tom.

Chartier eventually escaped to Grand Cayman in the Caribbean where, ironically enough, he found his version of:

the American dream: No job. No taxes. No winters. No smog. No commute. No military. No Wal-Marts. No terrorists. No crime. No Piggly-Wigglys. No war mongers. No Americans. Well, er, there are a few of us here but we’re in the minority. … we’ve all fled something or another for a better life. I certainly have.

A couple of months after posting the above, Chartier claimed that his declaration of bummery has touched a nerve, that “many readers out there seem to be inspired by my total lack of success. Cries for help have poured in from across the land.”

Why, he’s just like me.

And so, in a step-by-step guide to being a bum, which is actually rather wise and very funny, he ends up advocating for minimalism, downsizing, going car-free, contemplation, choosing the right location instead of the default one, binning off the idea of career, and generally taking it easy.

He concludes:

The trick to being a bum is all mental. It’s all up to you to identify what is really important in your life and what is extraneous balderdash.

Then, and only then, you must have the courage and commitment to flush the useless turd blossoms of your life down the swirly bowl and take the plunge. Go West, Middle Aged Man! Go West and fail! Or go East if that works.

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