www.leefur.com

Have you ever noticed that "penis" is lodged in the tail end of "happiness"?

I'm going to leave this up for one more day ... getting some good comments (and one or two assinine ones). I'll resume normal wackiness tomorrow...

After one of Lee's famous "hour showers", where I tend to philosophize ad nauseum, until the towel wipes clear my memory...

So I've recently been coming to terms with my lack of exception. I'm 27 years old now, and while "there's plenty of time left" and I'm "still young" (and I should "keep my chin up"), I can come to some pretty safe conclusions based on my current trajectory.

I'm never going to own a mansion in the hills. But I'll also probably never live in a train car. I'll never drive a Lamborghini, but then again my days of driving cars that shut down at idle are probably done. I'll never run a major corporation. But I'll never again scoop mashed potatoes for hungry families hurrying to get the kids back home in front of the television. I'll never be known as a prodigious ladies' man, but I'd argue that the women who have shared their time with me are of the finest sort.

This late-20s period is an interesting one. The "infinite potential" period that lasts from birth fades, and a more realistic picture of one's life coagulates. And for many, this is a feeling of failure - after all, "infinite potential" is tough to live up to - leading to depression, guilt, anger, sadness. I've considered those options, dabbled in them for sure, but decided against that.

Those measurements of success I prattled on about - the house you own, the car you drive, the job you hold, the salary you earn, the partners you bed - these are the ways we commonly attribute life success. And before you balk at that with an assertive "No, no ... those are so superficial!", consider what you would think about if I was to describe a friend of mine as "very successful", or counter to that if I was to describe this friend as "struggling" or, worse, "not making it."

I'm sure there's already a perfectly appropriate term for this approach, but for my purposes here I'd like to term this Ostensibalism. That is, a philosophy by which we measure success but that which is concrete, tangible, ostensible. So the friend I mentioned would be ostensibly (or "Ostensiballistically") successful.

Living with Ostensaballistic metrics of success is stressful, to say the least, and doomed, to be more accurate. Clearly, I'm not going to have the riches of Bill Gates, the cars of Shaq (or Jay Leno), the superficial adoration of Tom (yak) Cruise, the celebrated professional life of Donald Trump, or the sexual prowess of John Holmes.

You know what? I desire not a single one of those things. Financial success all too often leaves a person without humility. Celebrity attention seems to leave these stars in search of true affection, and with a feeling of emptiness that leads to many strange behaviors. Strangely, sexual formidability seems to have the same effects. Professional success, as I've seen, seems to result in a personal vacuum - "I'm so good at this, why am I so bad at that?" or "Working harder fixes this, but what fixes that? And cars? Why did I even bring that up?

So I've settled into a new philosophy of success, which I'd like to call Reltionism. For those of you that know me well, you'll know this is something I've prattled on about for years, as I've codified it in my mind. And this philosophy, as with all of my approaches, is dynamic. But after a few years, I'm feeling good about this one.

You see, all those things above tend to leave a person feeling empty because something is missing. And once you get past the Maslow level of needs ("Hey, I can afford a cheeseburger, no problem!"), these Ostensaballistic measures are superfluous. They don't truly add to a sense of reward, a true sense of accomplishment. Perhaps this is because none of this matters if you don't have whom to share it with. A bachelor executive with no friends and a family that no longer speaks to him has no one with whom to share the joy of a successful third quarter hostile takeover that boosts slumping sales by 8.3%.

And so ... Relationism. I measure my success by the Relationships I cultivate. Quite simply, I'll know I'm successful if people who know me would speak well of the time we've spent together. An evening spent sipping a cheap bottle of wine, spent in a bar, restaurant, or apartment not worthy of note, with someone who would gladly inconvenience themselves to make me happier because they know I would do the same is rewarding enough to carry me through a week. Conversely, receiving a 3% (or 33%, as happened) raise leaves me with a feeling of fulfillment for about as long as it takes to read the number, and sharing a thing like that with those people who care leaves me no more fulfilled.

Give me some quiet, unimportant conversation with someone who genuinely wants to listen to my triviality. Fortunately, it is because I'm a Relationist that I find happiness in my place.

I don't think I've ever heard that word. But I like it. "Man I drank so much, and then I hit the bathroom and christ oh mighty I gastroejaculated all over the room!"

Hi all ...

Now let me begin by saying that I am not intending to be dead anytime soon. At all.

However, inspired by a piece of media I consumed today, I am attempting an exercise that is aimed, quite contrarily, at understanding my life. If you do not understand that distinction, that is okay, but you should probably not attempt this exercise. For anyone else, I would really, truly love to hear that you gave this a shot. Ah and if you can guess the 'media', congratulations - you've just won two copies; one for you, and one for you to give to someone you think will 'get it'.

The exercise: I would like you to write your Last Will & Testament. I have no idea what these generally look like. That doesn't so much matter. But I would like you to pretend, for just a moment, that you are truly dying. Your end is imminent. And you have to write your last words to the world. You also have to figure out how to divide your belongings.

This is probably a multi-hour activity, at the minimum. I ask only that you give this 10 minutes. I recommend that you do this in Notepad, or whatever your most basic editor is (or on paper). This will help keep you focused on the words.

Some final points on my attempt here - I am writing this in my apartment (last night), where I have no internet, and no wills laying around. So I have no idea where to start. I spent about a half hour on it. To give you an idea, here's how I started.

The Last Will and Testament of Lee Jason Fuhr

Created: Monday, February 28, 2005
Last Edited: Monday, February 28, 2005, 11:55pm

I will begin by saying that I do not know the standards around a document of this type. More importantly, I am not concerned with this.

That said, the first thing I want to say is that I have an unbounding and powerful love for my family. There are no words that can sufficiently capture the positive force that this nucleus has provided in my life, but I shall try.

I will gladly share my result with anyone who gives this an earnest effort and shares it with me. I know this is very personal. But it is also meant to be read publicly. And it can have a profound effect on you.

Please don't bother mocking this. I know it's easy to. But I'll just delete your comments if you do, and you're stealing the point here. As evidence of the realism I intend here, I state here that in the unfortunate and unexpected event that I do pass in the near future, please use this document as my standing Will.

Now ... really ... imagine you have a rare form of progressive, inoperable stomach cancer. You have one month to live. You are scared in a way that you have never been scared. You can feel your mind race with the things you haven't yet done, and with the things you have. Now, write to the world.