:What Are You Worth?:

I know it's probably an old observation, and I'm not dropping anything new or exciting on anyone here.

But it seems to me that life costs too much money.

Or maybe, more accurately, money is just a lousy system. Because really, it's an assignment of a random number to an item or service, on the basis of how much it is in demand, or at least on the basis of the perceived desire for said object or service.

Problem is, the services that never seem to merit a higher number are the ones via which people earn those numbers in order to trade them for the goods and services which they need or "need" to live. Hence, the system falls apart.

We live in a society where, rather than working a day to provide food and shelter for your family for a day, some work a day in order to provide for virtually nothing (i.e. income is overshadowed by expenses, legitimate or otherwise), while others work for what, in a couple days is the equivalent of what the aforementioned individual makes in the entire year.

Last I checked, there's no country in the world where it costs $40,000 to live for a couple days.

What I'm saying is not that some people are not in lines of work that should compensate them handsomely for their efforts, nor am I saying that work should be devalued by wages which are sub-par for their field... But then again, where's our "par"-bar set? What are we expecting from life, in the long run? Should someone be able to work for one day, and on the basis of that day, in theory be able to take the rest of the year off (provided they are living with only the necessities of life, rather than living according to their 'yearly income')?

Maybe, ultimately, what I'm asking is this: who determines, in the end, what an individuals' work is truly worth? What determines that the CEO of a major company should be making more than he guy changing oil at the local garage? Is it simply on the basis of responsibility or training or experience? Is that CEO worth more because of the potential income he creates? Because then, in theory, shouldn't the oil change technician who enabled his car to continue to run, or the transit driver who gets him to work every day, be paid in relation to the fact that they've just enabled this CEO's potential to continue?

I don't know. Maybe they're dumb questions. Maybe I'll get people jumping down my throat, like I normally do when I ask questions (which, by the way are just meant to cause thought, not to raise ire)...but I can't help but feel that regardless of all this, the reality is, our system is broken, in one way or another. Sure, it's the system we've got, and unless something major happens to derail it and cause it to completely and utterly collapse, it'll be what we continue to function with.

But is it the best system? Is it effective? Do we lose something when we leave people feeling entitled to more than the ability to provide for their families? Why do we need this standard of living that demands so much? (And I'm aware that as I write this, I am on an iPad in a Starbucks, on free wireless Internet...) But really, are we entitled to this? Are we entitled to anything? Really?

So maybe that's my issue... Entitlement. Is this job or that job worth more? Maybe. But what's the attitude behind the individual earning said income? That this is somehow owed to him? Or that it's an incredible privilege to be able to receive such rich compensation for his time?

We've all got only so many hours to live. This makes us all equals in the sense that time is a precious commodity... Every moment we live we will never have again. So time is worth something...it's impossible to place a price tag on it, really...it's an invaluable resource.

So is what you make your right? Have you somehow 'earned it'? Really?
Or is it a privilege that you've been somehow blessed with--an opportunity to take what you've been given (and yes, maybe worked hard for) and really make some sort of difference with your socio-economic position?

I dunno. Just some ramblings. There you have it...take it for what it's worth.