How I Avoid Crime

I had breakfast at the Teaneck Marriott at Glenpointe recently. You can usually get a decent omelet at the large hotel chains. Something told me that my server had wound up working there as a result of circumstances. At one point during our chat, I blurted out, “So, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

He laughed and told me he used to own a convenience store in Paterson that he closed down some years back after the economy became discombobulated. The lower-income demographic he served appeared to be hardest hit by what followed the great mortgage loan meltdown of 2008.

I rephrased the question and asked, if he was walking along the beach and kicked a bottle and a genie popped out and granted him the job of his dreams, what would that be? He would receive $100 million salary each year as long as he pursued the career that is representative of his highest excitement or passion—the one thing that would make this man’s heart sing. I pressed him to tell me the first idea that popped into his mind, and he said, “I would start an organization that helps poor people change their financial status.”

“Perhaps one that helps them determine and act on a career that represents their highest passion?” I asked. He agreed.

I told him that if in the next 90 days he filed the necessary paperwork to start a nonprofit that helps the poor, I would in turn help him promote his new venture in the magazine at no charge once it was green-lighted by the government agency that oversees charities.

I remembered a taxi driver I met two years ago that was pooling donations and cooking healthy meals to distribute to the downtrodden on the streets of Newark. The driver didn’t seem to have any concern about resources or exactly how he would help the poor when he set out on his venture; he simply had an idea that was representative of his highest joy and was motivated enough to bring it into fruition.

Seventeen years ago, a friend from high school and I found ourselves both working in Paramus and meeting for lunch weekly at one of the malls. We were both working for a paycheck at that time—nothing exciting. He and I had limited contact over the years, and he filled me in on how he had a pest control license and how lucrative the trade is. Several lunches later, I told him, “Let’s start a pest control company.” And soon enough, we did, because I followed what was, at the time, my highest joy, to start a new project that would pull me out of job that I knew was nothing more that a short-term purgatory.

In the spirit of following my passion, I later sold my share of the business to my friend and funded a new project. Now I find myself publishing this magazine while pursuing other goals and dreams, because for me, to not pursue them would be a crime.