In college I was on the tech crew for a “show” choir and at some point someone told me I’d never get in the audition-only group. I auditioned out of spite and got in. At the same school, everyone gravely warned me that no one ever made an A in a particular professor’s music history course. Never a stellar student in dense academic subjects before, I became, in his words, one of the best he’d had in 20 years. In the early 2000s, I was told no one would ever pay for blogging. By 2005 I’d proved that was wrong, too. At 42 I saw messages everywhere–online, in others’ conversations, on TV–indicating there was no way, once you reached your mid-40s, to recoup your physical conditioning. The best you could do is lose weight and take medication–for your mood, your blood pressure, your cholesterol. I lost weight without ever taking medication and have kept it off, to this day. I guess I’m saying I need someone to tell me you can never be a billionaire with a spaceship in the garage and an ice-cream pooping android named TED. That sort of thing works on me.
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