David McElroy

I can still vividly see what my fleet of planes looked like.

I wasn’t sure how many there were. I wasn’t even certain what we would use them for. I just knew the company would be so large that it would require a fleet of planes. At least six or eight of them. Not small planes. Huge airliner size. The design was simple but bold. Each plane was a solid color, but each was a different color, bold enough to stand out anywhere.

And each one had the company name on the side. In monstrously huge letters. In a powerful typeface — such as Futura extra bold or Folio extra bold — it just had my name. The company name. It just said, “McElroy.”

Confession is good for the soul, but it’s miserable for the ego. I need to confess these old desires for ego satisfaction, because if I’m not careful, they could return.

And I don’t need that kind of toxic ego in my life anymore. It nearly destroyed me.

Keep Reading

It was just a few minutes after 11 p.m. when I put Lucy’s leash on her and we headed outside for our late-night walk.

Before I even got outside, I heard unexpected noise. It sounded like people laughing. They were loud. I felt annoyed.

When I opened the front door and stepped outside with Lucy, I realized that my young next-door neighbor had a group of people over. I don’t know how many. I saw at least six extra cars.

They were at the back of the house — possibly in the back yard right next to mine — and they were loud enough that I could hear them talking and laughing all the way to the street in front of our houses. I felt mildly angry.

“He shouldn’t be having this kind of loud party this late,” I thought, “especially on a weeknight.”

As I silently walked down the street with Lucy, I kept hearing their laughter. And then it hit me why I felt angry.

They were happy. I’m not. And I felt jealous of them.

Keep Reading

This society is rapidly becoming a place where I no longer want to live — and it’s happening far more quickly than I expected.

It’s hard for me to be certain whether the world is the problem or if it’s really just me. Maybe what we’re going through is normal and I simply hate “the new normal.” (I detest that phrase.) Maybe I would deal with it better if it weren’t for my childhood programming.

I’m sure it’s some of both. But wherever the specifics lie, I’m feeling overwhelmed and so are lots of others. Maybe you’re feeling a bit of the same. Or maybe there’s some feeling in your gut that you’re trying to ignore.

In 1970, the futurist Alvin Toffler published a book called “Future Shock,” which he described as a psychological state of individuals and entire societies — who are experiencing “too much change in too short a period of time.”

The world was already changing quickly, but it’s accelerated. What‘s worse, it feels as though we’re passengers in a car being driven by a madman — and the madman is gunning the engine as he steers us all off the edge of a cliff.

If you’re not terrified, you’re not paying attention.

Keep Reading