Transcript
A (0:02)
Hi, it's David. Before we get started, just a quick heads up about something on the podcast. We're trying something new. Instead of the single hour long podcast you've been getting until now, we're giving you two episodes every week, a half hour each, give or take. It's the same content, but arranged just a little differently for what we hope is the best possible podcast listening experience. There's a new episode up every Friday and and Tuesday. Here we go.
B (0:31)
You're listening to the New Yorker Radio Hour.
C (0:39)
Well, on paper, my life seemed great. I had a dream job, swanky apartment, and a loving girlfriend. But I don't know what it was. Someone felt off. So I decided to quit my job and travel the world, bringing only my passport or a small backpack and my enormous, enormous trust fund. My coworkers were shocked, but I don't expect everyone to get me. I'm a free spirit whose father owns a South American rubber empire, so classic me. I set to work throwing out most of my possessions. Think about it. You don't need to own a lot of stuff to be happy. And also in the backpack I was carrying was millions of dollars. Oh, I wish you guys could have been My first few months roaming the world were life changing. I'm talking every day. I updated my Instagram with photos of my favorite sites. Me taking a selfie in front of a pink wall. Me taking a selfie in front of a gray wall. Me taking a selfie in front of a mirror, which is basically infinity selfies. My hand lightly resting on a cafe table near an early edition of on the Road with the pages creased just a little bit to make it feel like I had read it, but I hadn't opened it yet. And I can't believe I'm sharing this with you, but I want you to feel what I felt. One time, outside the train station of a small fishing village, I met a humble man named Grebo. He sold flowers and various cheap trinkets for a living. Grebo was happy to open up to me about his life, his losses, his loves. As long as I kept buying roses and not the cheap ones, Grebo said. Because I was a man of stature. Intrigued by our easy chatter, some of his friends wandered over to join the conversation. All of our superficial differences soon melted away, like when you melt gold to mold into a new necklace that says your name. As I left town, I cast one final glance back at Grebo. One of his friends playfully tossed him to the ground and thumbed his eyes as the other snatched all the money I had given him. I couldn't help but smile. It felt good to make a difference in the lives of these simple, simple people. And now that I'm thinking about it, I'm not quite certain his name was Grebo. Listen, maybe this no reservations lifestyle isn't for everyone, but don't worry about me. You know, whenever I start to get homesick, I just remember the old rat race and I go ugh. All those bleary eyed suckers packed into a subway cart like sardines, going to their lousy jobs to afford useless things like rent and health insurance and student loan payments. See, that lifestyle isn't for me. Maybe I'm just a crazy dreamer who also gets a monthly no strings attached 60k deposit into my checking account. But I won't be tied down so easily. His name definitely wasn't Greebox why I.
