Money can’t buy you everything.
When you become rich, everyone always chides you with that remark: “money can’t buy you everything.” In my experience, that was farther from the truth than anyone is willing to let on. Money can buy a person many luxuries, friends, even social standing. Money is one of the most useful commodities.
But money is the root of all evil.
People will also tell you this when you are wealthy. As for my personal opinion, I’d rather be rich and evil, than poor and pious.
And then the day came when money no longer mattered. If your world is structured around your income and the purchase of goods, what is there to life when none of those things are available to you anymore? It makes life seem almost empty.
But they were still lying. It’s not that money can’t buy you everything.
It’s more that money can’t buy you anything.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
2 days before Infernal Friday
Howard Dorough adjusted his tie meticulously as he stared into the mirror in the dean’s office. His knot was off-center. He continued to fiddle with it as he turned back to the dean slightly.
Dean Keon placed his office phone back into its receiver. “Sorry about the wait, Mr. Dorough.”
Howard shook his head slightly as he stared back into the mirror, adjusting his tie a third and final time. It seems pretentious to say so, but at least for today, Howard Dorough had every right to adjust his tie seven hundred times if he wanted to.
“Now,” the dean smiled, “would you like a tour of the building?”
Howard gave him a stiff nod.
Howard was the multi-million dollar creator and CEO of Dorough International. His more or less humble beginnings had started in hotel property management at the beginning of the new millennium. A decade later, he had reached the top tier of the business. It was truly one of those rags-to-riches, success stories – without the rags, of course. His father had, after all, been a sort of second-in-command to the Hilton empire. It was only natural the hotels would be his original love.
There were some days when he missed his nearly-humble beginnings with his business. He used to be able to visit each of his properties daily. But now that he owned well over one hundred, it was practically impossible – especially when several of them were outside of the state of Florida; never mind that he only had a few properties within Orlando itself these days.
A small smirk crossed his face.
And there were those days when his wealth, power, and prestige brought a smile to his face – most days were like this.
Today was one of the latter.
He was currently visiting the University of Central Florida’s campus. With his funding, a new building had been erected and was finally ready to open on the university campus, just in time for the summer session. Being a prominent businessman, it was only fitting that he would donate to the business program of the university in his home town.
That is one of the drawbacks and bonuses to being rich. People expect you to be a philanthropist. But when you are a philanthropist, people remember your name.
And nothing says “I’m important” more than a building with your name etched into it.
Howard smiled at the thought of his name being preserved long after his death and through many millennia. People would remember Howard Dorough – he would make sure of that.
He adjusted his tie a fourth time as he followed Dean Keon out of his office.
In a matter of minutes, they had descended an elevator and walked out of the building into the Florida sun. Howard adjusted his collar. Since he spent most of his time indoors these days, he had forgotten how unbearable the Florida weather was in a suit, even in mid-April.
A university cart was parked outside the Business Administrative building for them.
Howard raised an eyebrow.
“It’s a bit of a walk to it from here. It’s past the far end of the second Business Administrative building.”
Satisfied with the answer, Howard stepped into the cart. He sat beside the dean in the passenger seating area.
The driver started the cart and proceeded to head toward the newest addition to the Business Administrative plaza.
The dean described how they’d come to pick the location of the newest building and the history of the two previous buildings. Apparently, his building was on the lot which had previously contained the University Theatre. It had been rebuilt at a new location a few years prior, so it only made sense to fill the location with a new building for one of the nearby degree complexes: business or science, particularly computer science. Business, however, had happened to claim the lot first. Thanks, in large part, to Mr. Dorough’s kind contribution.
Although lengthy, there was no one who could withstand the power of the dean’s flattery. Howard gave him a large smile as he accepted the praise graciously.
After all, he was more than used to listening to lavish praise.
The cart stopped abruptly, and Howard put his hand to his chest before brushing off the sudden stop. He took in a few low breaths before getting out of the cart and brushing off his slacks.
Howard stood in front of the building in front of him. It matched the other two Business Administration buildings in appearance. It had the same facade constructed completely of windows. It had the same circular, modern architecture style. But this one was different.
This one was called the “Howard D. Dorough Business Administration” building.
He smiled and stared up at his name. Everyone always said it was impossible to be remembered, unless you did something amazing, like a work of art or great literature. But he had certainly proved them wrong.
Anyone will be remembered if they have enough money to get their name out there. And not just out there, but on something indestructible.
Money is the key to securing remembrance. That was obviously certain. People with money make things happen.
The dean placed his hand on Howard’s shoulder. Howard brushed it aside lightly by pulling his shoulder away.
The dean straightened his tie and cleared his throat. “Would you like to go inside?”
“Yes, I would like to see just how this building turned out.”
He held open the door for Howard.
Howard slid into the opening and entered the building.
The dean followed closely behind him.
The foyer was wide and held classic leather couches and various potted plants in strategic corners.
The building guide directly center noted where offices were and on which floors.
“Do the students use this building?” Howard studied the sheet intensely.
“It’s intended to be a graduate level building, but I believe that there will be a least a few undergraduate courses in its classrooms.”
“Has there not been space for the graduate students in the other two buildings?”
“Sometimes, but not always. We’ve had business classes in overflow classrooms, like the mathematics building.”
“What an odd place to put business students.”
“I agree, but it is nice to know that we’ve been forced to do it because there has been high enrollment and retention in the business program.”
“The universities are doing a fine job of producing tomorrow’s business leaders. That was why I was happy to donate funds toward this building’s construction.”
“I would actually love it if you could see the large lecture hall we have created in this building.”
“To keep students away from mathematics?”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Dean Keon laughed as he led Howard toward the elevator.
The two descended toward the lowest floor of the building. The elevators opened, and they stood in a long hallway. The outer side was constructed completely of windows – even the doors were made of windows. The inner side contained the doors to the large lecture hall.
The dean opened one and ushered Howard in. The lecture hall was completed with red padded chairs and sleek black walls.
“Is this for undergraduate courses?”
“I can’t imagine many graduate courses needing large lecture halls.”
Howard nodded.
“This room seats three hundred students. So it is a great asset to the Business Administrative complex.”
“Indeed.” Howard nodded in agreement with the dean.
They exited back into the half-glass hallway. Dean Keon pulled open one of the doors and led Howard out to the side of the complex.
He motioned toward the large staircase to his left. “And, if we go back up these stairs, we’d return to the main lobby of the building.”
Howard crinkled his nose at the thought of climbing up that many stairs, when a sound caught his ear. “What’s that noise?”
Dean Keon turned toward the Student Union. It seemed as though he already had his suspicions about what was producing the sound. “I apologize, Mr. Dorough. Some of the student population does not support America’s involvement in this recent war. Protestors are inevitable… You know how idealistic the younger generation is.”
Howard cleared his throat as he stared toward the Student Union. “Idealistic” was far from the word he would choose. Rather than idealistic… he would probably opt for “directionless.”
“Make peace, not war!”
“Bring our soldiers home!”
“Let’s learn! Not fight!”
