Should You Become A Bum?

It's better than being had by a job!

Like me, Rob was a very successful corporate executive, earning well over a quarter-million dollars a year. He lived in a gorgeous home on several wooden acres in an exclusive waterfront community. He and his wife both drove luxury automobiles. Like me, Rob had paid a price for his financial success in long hard hours--at a cost far higher than he realized.

Unlike mine, Rob's marriage was on the rocks. His kids were in trouble with drugs; he was becoming an alcoholic. Unlike me, Rob was still locked into the corporate world. I had made the transition to network marketing.

I knew that Rob longed for a fairy tale life with his wife and kids. As part of that fairy tale, he wanted his family to enjoy the things that he had missed while growing up. He had been generationally indoctrinated into believing that the answer to everything--the path to achieving the fairy tale --was hard work in traditional business.

Rob focused on success like a laser beam and had successfully cut the chains of mediocrity. He didn't realize that he had paid an insidious price: his life.

I had a moral obligation to let him know that I had found a way out.

In his backyard one Sunday afternoon, I approached him with the opportunity that had given me my life back. He threw his hands in the air and with a genuinely pained expression on his face said, "Frank, Frank, Frank, I can't believe you've allowed yourself to get sucked into one of those pyramid schemes!"

He bowed his head for a moment and shook it sadly. Then, he looked me straight in the eye. "You're too smart for that. What happened to your mind? You're a well-respected corporate executive. You have everything! What about your lifestyle? I can't believe that you would give that up. Maybe you're just burned out and need a rest?"

His monologue continued with heartfelt concern: "I had a neighbor just like you: a corporate executive, doing well. Last year he made the same mistake you're making now. He chucked a dream career to get hooked into one of those pyramid things. He ended up turning into a bum--grew a beard and everything. He lost his mind!"

Rob's intense conviction now had me unnerved. Probably more sheepishly than I care to remember, I asked him "Did he make any money?"

"I guess so; he's still living in this neighborhood. But all he does is hang around his house, puttering in his garden and waxing his cars. He used to pay people to do those things. Now he does them himself and he doesn't appear the least bit humiliated."

"And his new circle of friends... what a collection! They all drive nice cars, but they look like bums half the time. They walk around like they haven't got a care in the world!"

"We never see him at the club anymore. I guess he's too embarrassed to show his face. Frank, if you don't get out fast, you'll probably become a bum, too!"

Rob took the Mount Blanc from his shirt pocket and scribbled something on the back of a business card. "Here," he said. "This is the name and number of the counselor I'm seeing. He should be able to help you get back on the right track."

I tuned Rob out. My mind was flashing on what had happened to me since I had left corporate America and committed to network marketing:

I had no bosses, no employees. I had no quotas, no schedules, no office to report to. I had no stress. I could go to bed when I wanted and get up when I wanted. I could spend all my time with my family. I could "putter in the garden," wax my cars, go where I wanted and do what I wanted, when I wanted. Nobody owned me.

I was earning an income that exceeded my corporate income. I had become totally debt-free. I could walk into any store and buy anything I wanted without looking at a price tag. The checks came in every week whether I worked or not. If I felt like working, I could work at home in my underwear.

I had a new circle of friends, too. They, like me, could come and go as they pleased. I had helped dozens of people break the chains of economic bondage.

Lifestyle? It was never better. I experience not only material fulfillment, but also emotional satisfaction and freedom from worry.

It dawned on me: Rob was right. I hadn't gotten out fast enough. I'd become a bum!