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McConaughey and MegaYachts


As my kids languished in the local arithmetic sweat shop, otherwise known as Kumon, I escaped and wandered aimlessly in the mall. I made my way to the local Coles bookstore where the now two year old Mathew McConaughey memoir, Greenlights, was front and centre on display. I decided to give it a chance, having ignored it two years earlier when it was released. To be honest, I wasn't expecting a whole lot. I thought to myself, "Maybe he'll have some entertaining anecdotes about Hollywood life, fame and regrowing his goddamn hair back."


Well he did have those anecdotes... and more. I didn't give McConaughey enough credit because I think he delivers the goods in this banger of a book. The king of Mid's 2000's rom-coms and star of minimalist arthouse Lincoln car ads, McConaughey revealed himself to be a pensive modern day philosopher. It's easy to look at someone, especially someone blessed with physical beauty, and quickly conclude they are vapid. Perhaps this is some deep seated defence mechanism we have that shields our egos from that fact that there are beautiful people out there, that are also wise. I've lived long enough to know that you should never underestimate people. In fact, you might just learn something profound from somebody you thought had nothing to teach you.


McConaughey came from modest beginnings but his family was steeped in it's own culture and traditions. They were extremely close-knit and fiercely proud of each other. He refers to"rites of passage" throughout the book . He beams with pride when he reminisces about his relationship with his father and brothers. Although very loving, there was physical and emotional roughhousing from his siblings and Dad. Staving these aggressions off and showing his mettle was part of "becoming a man" or earning his place in the McConaughey Patriarchy.The last rite of passage was his father's death which signified McConaughey now having to stand on his own two feet. Its debatable whether this type of upbringing does more damage than good, but for McConaughey, I think it steeled him for challenges he would face in his future.


It may surprise some to know that McConaughey( by his own account) was a proficient student and did well academically. At one point in his college experience he seriously targeted a career as a lawyer and likely would have become one if not for an epiphany in college that his real passion was storytelling. This self awareness re-directed him to film school, a career, to Mathew's surprise, his father supported. But his real education came from his life experiences. McConaughey had done a myriad of jobs as young man. He travelled extensively to remote and off the grid locations in search of knowledge and truth, often writing down his experiences in a journal.


McConaugheys grappling with the often toxic experience of fame are particularly revealing. He candidly tells the story about going to his favourite deli in Los Angeles on the morning of the opening night of his first movie where he was the lead, A Time to Kill. He was mostly invisible to people perhaps garnering an errant look or two.. The movie opened that night and in a blink of an eye he was famous. A time to Kill was an instant hit at the box office success and with film critics. He was now the centre of attention when he went anywhere. The next trip to the deli was distinctly different.


This level of attention is a dangerous intoxicant, but McConaughey seemed to have enough self-awareness to know that it was starting to change him, that he was succumbing to the vices of fame. In response to this he fled to a monastery in the desert of New Mexico to find a spiritual realignment amongst the monks. In the same vein, he went even further "off the reservation" four months after A Time to Kill was released when he travelled to the Amazon alone to find out who he really was.


The theme that binds McConaughey's stories and musings is that of "green lights". We all know them. Moments in life where shit goes our way and we seem to be on autopilot. We also are very familiar with yellow lights and red lights. Moments in life where we stumble or are downright blocked. Where things take a turn for the worse or our best laid plans are laid bare.


McConaughey contemplates that the "art of livin" is all about catching green lights and being grateful for them. But more importantly life is about learning how to navigate yellow and green lights and to realize that often red lights were really green lights in disguise. As McConaughey so aptly puts it:


"The problems we face today eventually turn into blessings in the rearview mirror of life. In time, yesterdays red light leads us to a greenlight. All destruction eventually leads to construction, all death eventually leads to birth, all pain eventually leads to pleasure. In this life or the next, what goes down will come up."


Profound stuff from the half-baked stoner in dazed and confused. To this, there can be only one response:


Allright

Allright

Allright


***********


Unlike the McConaughey memoir which was a pleasant surprise, I had the misfortune of watching the Amazon Prime documentary, MegaYachts. Now, I have to admit, I have been known to be impressed with opulence and luxury. I can appreciate a super-car, a beautiful home or an interesting piece of artwork.


I was looking forward to finding out about the people behind such massive sea-faring vessels, to admire the engineering feats associated with the ships and enter the world of the ultra-wealthy for an hour. It seemed "James Bondish" at the very least


It quickly became apparent that there is an echelon of wealth that verges on the absurd. The first scene is of a group of friends, and their Dutch Billionaire host, skiing in the mountains somewhere in remote Greenland. Out of nowhere, a chopper appears and lands in the untouched snow. It proceeds to pick up the skiers and head to a massive Yacht idling in the icy waters off the coast. As the helicopter descended onto the Yacht's helipad, a full crew of servants in black and white attire awaited them, champagne on hand, for their boarding. I felt something turn in my stomach.


The documentary goes on to profile a super yacht owner, billionaire Bill Duker, on his 70 million dollar boat, the Siberus. While eating lunch, he jokes "If the rest of the world knew what it was like to live on a Yacht like this they would bring back the guillotine." While showing off his yacht for the camera crew he stops to point out a row of storage trunks made from Alligator skin. The interviewer asks how many Alligators died for these trunks, "150 Alligators" his designer mumbles. Duker steps in and rationalizes that the alligators aren't endangered so it's kosher. The nausea became overwhelming at that point and I turned the TV off, revolted by what I had watched. This is a world of people simply spending unfathomable amounts of money to one up each other. A billionaire dick measuring competition.

I am by no means a socialist or communist, In fact, I'm a capitalist at heart but I believe there is a level of wealth which is so obscene, that it fundamentally changes the person behind the money, it changes time and space and makes virtually anything possible. It makes one believe they are above the law, that the rules don't apply and that they are an omnipotent Demi- god.


Maybe its's true. Maybe the rules don't apply to them. But for me, It's a reality so far removed from almost every other human on the planet that one might as well not live on earth, because for all intents and purposes they are an alien visiting. I can't help to think that this must in some ways be a miserable existence and a lonely one. Everything tastes bland and every colour is muted when you've eaten the finest caviar and seen the aurora borealis from your mega yacht. Your circle shrinks to only a select number of people because there is really no one that can relate to you anymore except other billionaire chums.


Perhaps Some of these MegaYacht owners should set aside $25.06 and get themselves a copy of Greenlights. I'm pretty sure the alligators would appreciate it.




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