You want to know what one of my favorite words of all time is? “Base.” When I was a young’in and played pretend, I would imagine myself infiltrating a top-security military base rife with acutely placed sharpshooters and assault guards ready to take me down anytime I turned ’round a corner. They were no match for me and my incredible spy skills, though.
More than a decade later, the word continues to be one of my favorites, but the denotation has changed. I now much prefer the definition of the word as it refers to the conduct and nature of a living being; specifically, humans.
“the lowest part or edge of something” – Google
When I say someone is base, I mean to say they are expressing thoughts or feelings that I would associate with the lowest common denominator of human thought.
For example: today, as noontime downtime swallowed the productivity of myself and my colleagues at the office, a conversation bore on about what each of us would do if we had a sum of cash large enough to keep us from needing to work for the rest of our lives.
“So you wouldn’t work anymore, really?” I asked.
“Yes, I would,’ my colleague replied. “But I would own a strip club. A strip club which I would frequent daily and for long periods of time, a strip club replete with women of all shapes, sizes and colors that would eagerly swoon over me, my money and my immaculate white suit upon my arrival.”
Isn’t that a base aspiration? What about using the money to chase dreams and aspirations otherwise difficult to achieve without a helpful handful of a million dollars?
He had none. He had none and, in that instant, I realized that I do. I’m not a hundred percent sure what those dreams and aspirations may be, but I know for a fact that succumbing to the level of making such a base fantasy a reality would leave me feeling empty and lonely thereafter.
Maybe it’s because strippers and pole dancers are particularly objective-oriented women who are masters of trickery and foolery. Rightly so: it’s their job.
I don’t think so, though. Rather, I think it’s because I have an incessant desire to leave a legacy of some sort and to make people remember me after I’m gone. It’s a potentially narcissistic and egotistical outlook on life; but trust me, something good will come out.
Certainly something better than another strip joint.
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