Martini Wonderland

“Both were slick salesmen and extreme opportunists with raw talent and rough edges.”

“My peers were shuttled to private schools in large German sedans by neurotic mothers wearing cashmere and suffocating French perfume. We spent weekends at country clubs and holidays in Hawaii. I learned early on that I needed everything. Horse estates, beach bungalows, private jets, exotic cars and yachts. Everything would bring happiness. Everything was the great expectation, and I was expected to chase”

“Whenever you look at something, don’t think about what it is. Instead, think about what it can be. Think about its potential. Everything wants to be better.”

““Innovation made me a fortune, and trust me when I tell you I’m no genius. I just see things different. I see potential. I skate to where the puck is going, slap the goalie with my stick and go home to fuck the head cheerleader. I can make you better than you thought possible. But you got a lot to learn, and I’m short on time. Time is the most precious resource of all. It’s one of the few things I can’t buy more of. So the question is, are you worth it?””

“Generally, the reader might assume Gary folded a C-note into his palm and slid it into the host’s manicured fingers. Not in this case. Gary handed the thin white man a thick white envelope. The host opened the envelope, and I could detect an almost imperceptible eyebrow twitch and moment of rapture. But he was a pro and cool as a cucumber. The host closed the envelope, smiled internally, and went to see if our private room was ready. It had probably been ready for hours, and we still would have been seated there with or without the $5,000 tip. But that was how the big man broke bread, and he wouldn't have expected anything less from his crew entertaining a guest on his behalf.”

“Lil Jon and his posse were returning to their limo after a successful business meeting with Sidney, and they'd decided to spark a spleef to seal the deal. And it was a sweet deal for Jon. He was offered the opportunity to be the face of Crunk!, Sidney's new energy drink. Sidney would pay him one dollar for every case sold. That was the deal, and it didn’t get much better. Jon didn’t have to contribute a penny to the venture, just his distinctive name and face. Sidney assumed all the costs and risks. At the time, Jon was a relative newcomer to hip-hop, but he was a savvy marketer. He’d coined the term Crunk! (a blend of ‘crazy’ and ‘drunk’) to describe his music and lifestyle, and his personal brand was busting out virally and exponentially.[11]”

“"When your family turns on each other like a pack of wild dogs, you realize something terrible has happened. You might have everything you wanted in life, all the money in the world, but it’s a mirage. It’s a big fucking illusion. I should've done shit differently, but by the time I noticed it was too late and they were deep in their disease.”

“You must make your children work. Make them earn a living. Make them appreciate responsibility and accountability. Let them learn how to form relationships, communicate, influence and earn respect. If you don’t, they won't learn how to deal with people, and they will never achieve anything on their own. Don't let them invent fairytale excuses for not working. It's a load of bullshit."”

“The Wilsons reminded me of some of the most prominent families in the United States and Canada (Kennedy, Bronfman, Annenberg, etc.) whose fortunes were derived from colossal criminal enterprises and prodigious corruption.[20]”

“The immoral transgressions of the first generation, which result in massive wealth accumulation, are absolved with the succession of subsequent generations of artists, career socialites, and reluctant philanthropists, and all the prior crimes and nastiness are forgotten and forgiven. All the poisons disappear and the blood money is washed clean in the afterglow of good deeds and tax-deductible donations. High society has a short collective memory when substantial wealth is involved.”

““Because Winston wants to create Churchill cigars, and he wants Sidney to be his partner." The Haitians would have to wait, again. I was on the next flight to Nassau, and then on to New York. Winston wanted to pimp out his grandfather's image and family name by developing Winston Churchill brand cigars. He was seeking Sidney's sage wisdom and marketing advice, and a little venture capital between new chums never hurt. After all, Sidney’s Midas touch could turn shit into gold, and he had the sterling to float a risky venture with a fancy British socialite. Winston was nobody’s fool, and he knew the most important business lesson. Never use your own money if you don’t have to. I walked into SFIC boardroom and scanned the occupants. Sidney had assembled his executive dream team, primed and ready to heap praise and adoration on whatever plan he concocted. They looked unanimously agitated when I walked into the meeting and sat down at the table. I was intruding on their sacred sales domain. I was feeding from their trough and diluting their pie. They had no clue that I was responsible for getting Winston and Sidney in bed in the first place, but I wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction. The executives enlisted the expertise of an eager Davidoff sales representative who was ready to pounce on what must have sounded like a dream come true. The Churchill name was almost synonymous with the image of a cigar, and the Churchill family had never considered licensing their name or Sir Winston’s distinctive image to something as vulgar and mundane as a tobacco venture. Winston waltzed in looking the dapper English gent, draped in a bespoke suite and handmade loafers. He worked the room, pressing the flesh and sharing a chuckle with most of the executives. Sidney was wheeled in last and rolled to the head of the table, cigar in his mouth and his eyes barely open. The London trip had taken a toll on him, and he was still recovering his energy. He was sitting fairly still, and I was not entirely sure he was awake. We sat through Mr. Davidoff’s tediously well-heeled pitch. We feigned interest in his colorful charts and graphs, market research, metrics and forecasts. They would source tobacco from the finest plantations in Nicaragua, and the marketing campaign would be exponential. Churchill cigars would be the biggest thing to come out of England in years. Bigger than the Beatles. Davidoff had gone all out on this sucker. They even prepared branded cigar boxes and mock-up labels with tiny pictures of Sir Winston on the cigar rings. First class. Top shelf. The Davidoff show finally ended, and it was the rep's finest hour. He was prepared to accept Winston’s and Sidney’s undying gratitude and signatures on the exclusive licensing agreement conveniently stashed in his expensive leather attaché. He primed his Monte Blanc fountain pen out and prepared to bask in mega deal afterglow.”

“"We don’t have to. We’ll sell the non-Cuban cigars domestically, and we’ll sell the Cuban cigars everywhere else. We just need to negotiate deals with the original Cuban company and the phony foreign fabricators. Maybe we’ll do Nicaraguans for the United States market.” "The Cubans won't go for it." "Really? Have you ever asked them?" "No. Why don’t you call Fidel and ask him." Winston and Sidney looked at each other and smiled. I was on the next plane back to Nassau, but I was not going to Cat Island.”

““As far as money, I made fortunes and lost fortunes, but money comes and money goes. Money is magnificent, but it’s not everything. Sooner or later, you realize that some things are much more important. And you think about all the time you wasted chasing bullshit and illusions, and you get regrets. I realized it too late, but you got your whole life. You’re a smart kid, and I like you, so I’m going to give you a piece of advice that I wish someone had given me." Sidney now had my full attention, although I almost drove the car into a ravine. Fortunately he didn't notice. "Get out of this business and do something you care about. Something that makes a difference. Give people opportunities to help themselves. Find unknown heroes and get them known. You like to surf, right? So teach kids to surf. Even better, teach retarded kids to surf. Help abused animals. Do something to help, something you care about. You won’t regret it. Trust me on that. You will still be happy and satisfied, even if you don’t make any money. You can hold your head up and know that you made the world better. And if you make a little money along the way, and there’s no harm in that, then enjoy the shit out of it. But don’t let it control you. It will ruin you if you are weak. It will make you doubt everything and mistrust everyone. Even the people you love most of all."”

““I know, I’m an old fart singing a sad sack song, but it's true. When you get to my age and you've done everything, you will understand. I've had a lot of women in my life, but not much love, at least not real love. And my children are a fucking mess, but I still love them. Someday when you have kids you will understand. Nobody is perfect, and you will screw up and make mistakes, and so will they, trust me on that. But you need to forgive them and love them, or you will regret it. "I did my best with my kids. I know I wasn’t the world’s greatest father, but I didn't want them to make the same mistakes I made. I wanted them to be better than me, and I thought that would happen if I gave them everything and saved them from the struggles and suffering I experienced. I didn’t want them to know that pain. “But that was a mistake. I now know that a little suffering is good for kids. It builds their character and makes them appreciate things and understand people better. Suffering makes them better people. So does teaching them to help and to give, and you can’t start them too early. Take them to animal shelters, soup kitchens, homeless shelters, wherever. Show them real life. Don’t sugar coat it. Show them the shit all around us. They need to see what others lack to appreciate what they got, and they will be happier because there is so much more joy in giving. Encourage them to give whenever they can and any way they can. Let them give their allowance away, or their toys to children that don’t have anything. Giving is the best feeling there is. My kids never learned that, and that is my fault. Turns out that wasn’t the biggest mistake I made.””

““Don’t interrupt, I’m getting to it. Like I said, I made lots of mistakes with my kids, even though I always loved them, but my biggest was not showing them enough affection, or as much as they needed. I thought throwing money counted as love, but it doesn't. I didn't spend enough time with them or really take the time to show them how much I loved them. I was too busy with other bullshit, trying to make money and chasing pussy. I didn’t notice that the family poison was making them toxic. By the time I noticed what was happening to them it was too late. They were deep in the disease and there was nothing I could do to get them back. "The reason I’m telling you all this is that I don't want to see you make the same mistakes I made. You remind me a little of myself, just not as handsome or smart.” I glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw the toothy grin. “I can see my flaws in you. Trust me, you got them. You don’t realize it, but you wouldn’t be sitting there if you didn’t. So do yourself a favor. Go home and love your wife, even if she drives you crazy. And when you have kids, make sure to love them as much as you can. Love them more than that. More than they deserve.””

“In April of 2011, the Poet fulfilled a lifelong dream of performing the piano upon a remote wilderness peak. He chartered a helicopter to drop him and a Steinway on an isolated section of the Chugach mountain range in Alaska. Just a puny Poet and his priceless piano braving the frozen tundra. Naturally, the Poet wore a full Yeti costume. On a 6,000 foot glacier in the middle of nowhere, the Abominable Poet pounded out frigid show tunes while dressed like a pygmy Sasquatch.”

“Money can't buy happiness, but lack of money can destroy it quickly.”

“He made me understand that success isn't measured by net worth, ranking on the Forbes list, or material possessions. Success is finding your own brand of happiness. Success is enjoying your brief time on earth, helping others enjoy their time, spending as much time as you possibly can with people that make you happy, and realizing that everything is replaceable except love and time.”

“Success is living an interesting life, never becoming boring, overcoming hardship and adversity, and becoming stronger and smarter from each failure. Success is loving your children more than they deserve, giving people a chance they don't deserve, and giving them a second chance after they fuck up the first chance. Success is making your children better than you, giving away more than you make, and telling the world's greatest stories.”