The American investment banker was at the pier of a small
coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one
fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several
large yellow fin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican
on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.
The Mexican replied, “Only a little while”.
The American then asked why didn’t he stay out longer
and catch more fish? The Mexican said he had enough to
support his family’s immediate needs. The American then
asked, “But what do you do with the rest of your time?”
The Mexican fisherman said, “I sleep late, fish a little,
play with my children, take siesta with my wife, Maria,
stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and
play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life.”
The American scoffed, “I am a Harvard MBA and
could help you. You should spend more time fishing
and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat. With the
proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several
boats, and eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats.
Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would
sell directly to the processor, eventually opening your
own cannery. You would control the product, processing
You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village
and move to Mexico City, then Los Angeles, and eventually
New York City, where you will run your expanding enterprise.
” The Mexican fisherman asked, “But, how long will this all take?”
To which the American replied, “15-20 years.”
“But what then?”
The American laughed and said, “That’s the best part.
When the time is right you would announce an IPO and
sell your company stock to the public and become very rich,
you would make millions.”
“Millions.. Then what?”
The American said, “Then you would retire. Move to a small
coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little,
play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, stroll to the village
in the evenings where you could sip wine
and play your guitar with your amigos.”
(from andy’s hobotraveler site
The last day or so I’ve been immersing myself completely in this hobotraveler website/blog. It’s amazing. As the trip progresses and the years pass on, the trajectory of the author changes. He doesn’t talk about it but you can almost sense the searching and the loneliness of permanent impermenance.
I ask myself. What is my trip all about? What am I searching for? When will I have found it? That’s probably not the best way to approach all this. It’s almost like I’m really hungry, craving food, and asking “What am I really looking for in a meal?” I guess I’m looking for travel to fill me up. The website suggests:
Pick a route of what you like…. i.e. party, archeology, nature,
trekking, poverty, ecology, and make a route to these
types of travel locations. Your trip will be better.
I like to see people, and culture, so I stop at lots of small towns.
Do not take someone else’s trip, Find out what you like to do?
Here I have been given a gift. I have been given the time and the means to travel. I can choose any trip I want. I’m excited. and intoxicated.
I’m writing this from Joe’s house. He’s scooting around me, packing for his trip to Spain. He’ll be there over the summer. I tell him that if he comes back with a Cathtilian accent then I’ll make fun of it even more than I do of his French. He promised he’d try to lose it as soon as he could, possibly by visiting another country.
I’m debating on the computer issue: should it stay or should it go… If it stays I won’t have trouble. But if it goes it could be double…
Joe: take the computer!