Race Cars and Rock Stars

When I was a kid, I could entertain myself for hours; sometimes entire days, with my books, music, and toys. I had a good childhood. Then I met my first love which was hockey. I was hooked for the next decade and a half reading books about it, playing whenever and wherever I could. And despite my mother's disappointment, I was never going to be the starting goaltender for the Toronto Maple Leafs.

We were middle middle-class. My folks probably lived paycheck to paycheck most of the time. But they always found a way to put food on the table, pay the bills, and get my sister and I cool gifts at Christmas. Nothing about my life is a story for the ages.

Fender Telecaster and a set of Pilot Sport Cup 2s

There is something strange that humans possess which no other beings experience and that is a yearning for more. Our cat doesn't spend her days wishing she was a panther. She is a content companion who thinks we are awesome because we give her food a few times a day and a comfy place to nap all afternoon.

Sometimes I watch super car channels on YouTube and imagine owning a Bugatti Chiron, but I don't then spend the next two hours being depressed I will never have one. I don't listen to music wishing I was the rock star either. If we're unhappy, money in the bank, adoring fans, and a $3 million hyper car in the garage won't help.

The reason for our unhappiness is often because we can't define what will make us happy instead of looking at what is good in our lives that already brings happiness.

But I will take the Chiron in navy blue, thanks.

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