I thought about Santana Row today because I saw a photo of the movie theater there. I have not been in that theater, but when it comes to relaxing, the Yardhouse at the other end of Santana Row is one of my favorite places to grab a beer or two.
Santana Row in general is not my favorite place. I don't like shopping malls, and while Santana Row is more than that, I don't feel like I belong there. Sure I have frequented places like Blowfish, Hotel Valencia, Consuelo's, Yardhouse, Maggiano's, Rosie McCann's, Left Bank, Straits, Sino's and so on. I've been there with friends and family, with successful, wealthy people. I have done breakfast, lunch, dinner, and the wee hours there. I've run into millionaire friends and closed business deals at the aforementioned restaurants. Affluence abounds.
Why don't I just dress up as usual and pretend that I belong there? Why can't I accept Santana Row for the cosmopolitan place that it really is? I used to like going there, but perhaps my view of it was shattered because I am certain there are pretentious people who go there. Perhaps I am speaking about homeless people who live in their cars but can don nice clothing and blend in with the Santana Row clientele. Could I be confusing their pretentiousness with ambition? Maybe.
I once went to a real estate seminar during the real estate boom because I was curious. The speaker was a well-known, very successful real estate broker. She boasted of her possessions, including her precious Bentley. What made her successful? What was her secret? According to her, she imagined the life she felt she deserved - first class plane tickets, 5-star restaurants, expensive cars. She imagined it, and then it came true. Her imagination became reality.
Hmmmm. I think she needed a reality check. If everyone imagined these things, and they came true, wouldn't we be living in utopia? Who could or would not imagine the good life? Could it be that easy? Of course not. There is this thing called "hard work" that needs to be thrown in. That is the difference between being pretentious and being ambitious. She was ambitious, but I am sure that there were some members of her audience who were pretentious.
Just like I know there are some people at Santana Row who are pretentious. They are part of the crowd, drink their tea with their pinky up, window shop, laugh loudly, mingle and pretend. When they are done, they get in their car and live in it, or hop on a bus and head home to an apartment or house that they share with 20 other people. And if I am wrong about their pretentiousness, then they must be ambitious, like the successful real estate broker, imagining that Santana Row is within their reach and that some day they will live there.
The life that I imagine I deserve does not include Santana Row. It's somewhere on the East Coast, in Asia, or in the Eastern Bloc. It's spending half my retirement in Hawaii and the other half in Daly City. This is what I imagine. I also finally imagine that my ashes will be spread along the Mediterranean Sea, one of my favorite parts of the world.
But first, there is this thing called "hard work." Yes, I am ambitious.
No comments:
Post a Comment