When Late Night Thoughts are Bourne

WHEN LATE NIGHT THOUGHTS ARE BOURNE with Freddie Bourne

Your master’s degree doesn’t give you permission to be a jerk

I think it goes without saying that your credentials don’t make up who you are. Sure, maybe it makes up the amount of money you can potentially make. Or more likely, money lost due to incurring debt and overconfidence. To each their own.

I notice that many people still claim entitlement due to their status, popularity or the amount of success that they have - the amount of accomplishments they can list on a resume, followed by a laundry list of people they know to impress bystanders.

And for what? I’ve been guilty of this and I’m ashamed of it. In high school, I always planned on going off to college but my best friends weren’t that inclined. When I had thoughts of laying low after senior year, my mother enforced this mentality that I was “going places” while my friends were not. I didn’t truly believe it. But I acted like it. A lot.

I ended up dismissing my friends’ growth when I would come home for college breaks because I started believing in the lie that I was better than them.

When my mom passed, the people that she loved but thought that I was “better than” in terms of success are the people that kept me going when they very well could have written me off.

I like to think that I've grown up since then, no longer acting like I'm bigger than I am.

Mind you, I don’t disagree with the “fake it till you make it” mentality. But I don’t agree with being completely fake all together. I see this a lot in the local art scene here - people posting events like they are selling out arenas and putting out records like they are U2. It’s an accomplishment, no doubt. But what are you trying to prove?

Is there an overarching conclusion you’re trying to reach, to “show them” when you don’t know who “they” are? How about try being you - without the excess crap. Face value with emotions, fears, and genuine connection.

By the way, my friends that my mother was concerned about now own houses, two cars each, and make close to $100,000 a year with no college degrees. And yet, I didn’t know that information until I asked them - they never shoved it in my face. Meanwhile, I am typing this column for a free magazine in my car that I’m barely going to make the monthly payment on because I love take-out sushi too much to watch my finances responsibly.

Sorry, mom. You weren’t always right.