When you mention anything to him, he waves it off dismissively. You talk about what the young people are doing. He scoffs. He watches Bitcoin prices obsessively – in hopes that it will fall – and vindicate his preconceived notions about it.
It’s hard to hold a conversation with him, because he sits with his arms crossed, leaning back from you in a fortress of resistance, and interrupts every few seconds. Squinting.
He has worked a long time, a long, long time, sacrificing time with family and friends, might be on his second or third wife, and most of all – has waited. In his waiting, he has soothed himself from vicious bosses, midnight revisions, 20-hour flights, drudgery, and the career voyeurism of former colleagues making it big – or busting, with one simple mantra. Which was that he was on the right path. That all he had to do was stick around, avoid conflict, and he would rise in the ranks. Meaningfulness, in his job, has been lost decades ago. Chaos at home, disrespect and slights, politics – against all these things he’s sought solace at work. And has found it.
And most likely, he’s been lucky. Lucky to survive recessions, lucky his firm was either an indirect beneficiary of the tax code or secret bailouts, and most of all, lucky to have chosen this firm, which had been a toss-up at the time. He is lucky that the way roles and responsibilities have been divided at the firm, have likely inflated his accomplishments and hidden his failures. He is lucky that the company has such a strong culture that likely if he does not exist, the firm would do just as well. But he does not believe in such things as luck.
By his will and determination alone, he has made it. He’s a partner, director, C-suite exec, producer, whatever. And now, the decades of self-soothing and justification have paid off, and because it’s no longer necessary, he has let the motivational rafters, break.
And thus other things have broken.
He is impatient, he does not listen past a few sentences. He listens and reads only things that confirm his worldview and soothe him. Things are put neatly into binary categories, the simplest of which is good and bad, useful and worthless – especially when it comes to people. In the decades he has spent supporting his fragile, illusory motivations, his logic has turned to cobwebs. His empathy does not exist. His ability to listen is gone. He knows everything already, does not need to change himself, his diet, his friends, his opinions, anything.
He knows everything. He is already dead.
Kids, don’t be like these men.