Tomorrow, Larry

So, I’ve been working for the state all summer.

I’ve been interning at the Indiana Department of Environmental Management doing administrative work and it super-duper sucks, but at least (so they tell me) it will be an awesome way to build the ol’ résumé.

There are about 1.5 million opinion columns I could write that begin with that as an introduction, as I have come to form many opinions having worked for “the man” for more than two months, but this one will concern one thing central to all of our poor, poor college selves: funding.

First of all, I can’t even begin to tell you how weird it is to be surrounded by
grown-ups. All the time.

This fact has greatly enhanced my wish for Peter Pan to freaking tell me already how to get to Neverland. The second star to the right of what, man? But that aside, it’s given me an opportunity to learn life lessons from impartial, heavily
experienced old people.

My favorite pieces of advice have come from a ballin’ dude named Larry.

He sits in the cubicle diagonal from mine and has offered several winning jokes and anecdotes that help get me through my number crunching days at the office.

He seems like a carefree dude, the cat’s pajamas, the bee’s knees, if you will — just a 50-something-year-old gent with few cares and a super tiny Euro car.

However, his advice rang more to the tune of your typical old fart: “Save your money, young man.” This, in answer to my broad question of “Hey, Larry, what the hell should I do with my life?”

I was hoping he could give me the answer. I’ve grown quite weary of trying to figure it all out. Alas, when he gave me this all-too-familiar response, I sighed and immediately felt all the weight of the world, right in that one spot on the back of your neck you can never quite rub out. I call it my Atlas spot, but that’s just me.

He went on to advise me to just put away large portions of my income while I am still young and my needs are few so I can invest it and let it grow throughout the decades. Boring and lame.

I have hippie friends who will tell you money isn’t real and success is a measure of happiness and proceed to give you a bunch of spiritual nonsense that makes you feel really good, until you remember that your car’s almost out of gas and food is actually quite a good thing.

Larry’s way is super boring and lame, and I would much rather spend every penny I have on things like beer and travel and other types of beer, but he is darned sensible.

This man who’s worked for the government his whole life, who’s offered years of service to the people of the relative counties and states he’s lived in, who’s worked hard to make ends meet for his family, who’s been through lots of life — he told me to pinch my pennies until, as Marshall Mathers put it, “until Abraham Lincoln is screamin’ out AHH.”

Alright, Larry. I’m gonna give it my best shot. For you. Just for you.
Granted, I did spend my first two paychecks today on music stuff and ice cream.

Tomorrow, Larry!

Tomorrow.

­— mileonar@indiana.edu