Oh, my God, this headline from Business Insider, May 4, 2020:
Jeff Bezos is on track to become a trillionaire by 2026 — despite an economy-killing pandemic and losing $38 billion in his recent divorce
“If Jeff Bezos’ personal fortune keeps growing at its current rate, he could become the first trillionaire by 2026 at the age of 62, according to an analysis from the software-review site Comparisun.” —Business Insider
Holy shit. Can you even imagine? Can you imagine what it’s like to be a fucking trillionaire?
I, for one, cannot. I can hardly wrap my brain around what it’s like to be a millionaire. But trillionaire? It’s beyond my scope of understanding. That’s like me trying to comprehend infinity or time travel. As much as I enjoy pondering that stuff, after awhile, it makes my head hurt.
Remarkably, Bezos’ current wealth of $178 billion is a pittance when compared to the combined wealth of the 400 richest people in America, which is roughly $2.96 trillion. These people can literally lift every American out of poverty and do a whole bunch of other good stuff and still have a shit ton of money leftover for themselves.
Want to put that 0.001% kinda wealth into perspective? Check out this link. It will blow your fucking mind:
Bezos recently purchased the nine acre “Warner Estate” on Angelo Drive in Beverly Hills for a modest $165 million from music mogul, David Geffen.
Here are some fun facts about Jeff’s new home:
Anyway, I got to thinking about how every single time I purchase something on Amazon, Jeff Bezos inches a little bit closer to trillionaire status. I’m not faulting Bezos for being a member of the 0.001% club. He created an online marketplace with the massive technological and physical infrastructure necessary to fulfill our consumer culture and/or instant gratification demands by providing us with virtually everything we could ever want or need, and have it delivered right to our front door, sometimes even on the same day. We’ve become quite dependent on Amazon, especially during this pandemic, when it’s far safer to order in than go out.
Since the stay-at-home order was issued in L.A. on March 19, my Amazon purchases have definitely ticked up. While some stuff I definitely needed, some stuff was nothing more than mindless pandemic purchasing. But, hey, what gal can’t use a little package pick-me-up to look forward to nowadays? All those purchases add up, though. My Amazon card has something like $900 on it and Bezos collects on the interest every month I don’t pay off the balance.
My most recent Amazon purchase is something I actually need. An in-case-of-emergency product. Specifically, an in-case-I-have-to-pee-while-I’m-out-walking-dogs-and-there’s-no-bathroom-or-I-want-to-avoid-using-a-public-toilet product.
While inspecting my little parcel of portable, biodegradable sanitary funnels, I noticed the company’s website on the back of the package, so, I visited it. Turns out SaniGirl is a certified women owned company. Had I done a little research before making my 1-click prime purchase, I could’ve acquired my product directly from SaniGirl. Sure, I may have had to pay a nominal fee for shipping and maybe had to wait a bit longer than two days for delivery, but I would’ve supported a small, female run business; the kind of small business that could surely use the financial bolster during these wildly uncertain times.
It got me to thinking.
Could I possibly live in the world without relying on Amazon’s convenient one-stop shopping, fairly no-hassle return policy, and Prime delivery? Could I do it for a month? Could I do it for entire year? I mean, I always got whatever I wanted or needed before there was Amazon, in the same way I aptly managed life before cell phones and apps and social media. I’ll tell you this, it was a lot less stressful not being so plugged in all the time.
Now that things are slowly beginning to open up for business, it seems somehow more appropriate to support my local mom and pops and brick and mortars and independent e-tailers. Yeah, I think it might be fun to challenge myself and see how long I can go without succumbing to Amazon.
They say it takes twenty-one days to break a habit and ninety days to make it a permanent lifestyle change. I’m all about making healthy lifestyle changes lately. Why not add one more to the list?
Jeff Bezos won’t even notice I’m gone.