One night, while standing on the rooftop of a large building undergoing renovations on the far south side of Chicago, a man in business attire walked up and began playing a harmonium.
After playing for a moment, he introduced himself by saying. “I should be at home sitting on a couch right now.”
We had already met. In fact he fell into the loose category of “Friend.” I forget the exact degrees of connection, but like so many that come upon you in a big city — they were interesting.
And this man had the precise thing that I still to this day long for. Success. With a capital S.
As he had arrived, I was ready to go on account of being Shy.
We talked onward and he explained further. His real job for which he sat C-Suite, had taken him out of town that week in order to sit through a string of meetings.
It wasn’t even Friday yet, so he had work again in the morning. And he was right, most people in his position would be at home on the couch.
Slunched over. Stiff drink in one hand. Doom scrolling with the other.
I decided right then what the definition of Success is.
To do as this man did.
To work all week, then to go play music on a rooftop in the evening. Sans-drinking.
I have held onto that moment. Kept it in my pocket.
Sometimes, as I sit on the couch, doom scrolling, I think about it.
