Today, I’m thankful knowing that we should live our lives for the moment, not for the legacy.
I learned my lesson on this point in any interesting way.
Back in July 2017, I was embarking on a short vacation for the Independence Day holiday in Martha’s Vineyard with my lovely partner. The lack of access to my computer left me, well, lying in wait. As we waited for the ferry to cross over to the Vineyard, my wife encouraged me to listen to a musical she had been introduced to by our oldest son. I was not really in an artistic or melodic mood, but, since I was without a book to read or my usually trustworthy laptop to pass the time, I followed her advice and listened to the music from the award-winning Broadway production on my iPhone. Well, the music was awesome, and as our ferry approached the Vineyard, I had tears gushing down my face as I listened with my earbuds to the musical’s finale, Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story. I was so blown away by the story that I immediately yearned to see the live production. A few months and a few hundred dollars later, members of my family and I were off to the Richard Rogers Theater in New York City. The show was well worth the wait—and the exorbitant price of admission.
Of course, the musical I’m cagily referring to is Hamilton – the nearly 3-hour, ‘non-stop’ story of the determined immigrant, Alexander Hamilton, and his endless pursuit of freedom, prosperity, and, of course, legacy. Ironically, Lin Manuel-Miranda opted to write a musical about one of the least-known founding fathers, even though he was one of the few ultimately chasing a legacy. Despite his wife Eliza’s claims that Alexander did not need a legacy, he pursued it with a passion. So, he fought valiantly in the American Revolution, served as Washington’s wartime secretary strategist, and eagerly accepted and excelled at the Secretary of Treasury post in President’s Washington cabinet. He created the Federal Reserve, the first National Bank, and the Coast Guard. And, yet, as we learn in the final scene of the musical, as a bullet fired from Aaron Burr’s gun barrels towards the protagonist, he’s left pondering the age-old question about legacy: “What is a legacy? It’s planting a garden that you never get to see.”
Hamilton is right.
Many of us will spend endless hours of our lives doing things with this intent, or hope, that we might publish our research in a manuscript, have our surname included on a mathematical proof, or possibly have some avenue renamed in our honor after our demise. From my perspective, such pursuits are all in vain, and when I say that I mean it in a dual context. Yes, they are in ‘vain’ because they are ultimately fruitless or futile – they carry no bearing on our current lives. But, they are also in ‘vain’ as they are often done in a prideful manner to satisfy our egotistical whims.
Today, I’m reminded of a few interesting tales that illustrate my point. When Alfred Nobel finally died in 1896, his obituary was actually published a second time. You see, several years earlier, this affluent Swedish chemist, inventor, and engineer, who incidentally had made millions developing weapons and an explosive known as dynamite, was accidentally identified in the newspapers as having died in 1888, when, in fact, it was his brother Ludvig who passed away at that time. Reading his own obituary in the paper horrified Alfred and left him wondering how he might be remembered. So, in turn, he changed his will, stipulating that his great fortune and inheritance be put to good use to reward those who serve humanity with the issuance of one of several Nobel Prizes. So, in 1901, the Nobel Prizes were issued for the first time in 5 categories: Chemistry, Physics, Medicine or Physiology, Peace, and Literature. Exactly 25 years later to this day (Nov 18), George Bernard Shaw was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature for St. Joan, a play the Irish author would pen to commemorate the infamous French warrior Joan of Arc. In a rather brazen manner, Shaw would reject the prize fund of 7,000 pounds. Supposedly, he quipped the perfect response: “I can forgive Nobel for inventing dynamite, but only a fiend in human form could have invented the Nobel Prize…. My readers and my audiences provide me with more than sufficient money for my needs.’’ But, here’s the best part: He did not refuse the title that came with knowing that he won the Prize. Once again, the vanity of legacy reveals itself.
But, if this is not enough, I can also share the interesting tale behind the most lovable toy any young child can receive – a teddy bear. But, the story as to how the soft, furry brown doll that resembled the hibernating carnivore of our forests came to be an iconic symbol of our childhood is one worthy of repetition. While on a hunting trip with the Mississippi governor near the town of Onward, the then 26th United States President, Theodore Roosevelt, who was known for his big game hunting prowess, had failed to secure any prize. Fearing the braggadocious leader of the free world would be embarrassed with his lackluster hunting performance, the Presidents’ aides cornered a small black bear and tied it to a willow tree so the Commander-in-Chief could have an easy shot. Horrified at this prospect, Roosevelt refused to take aim at the defenseless creature. Well, when the story leaked to the press, newspaper writers and cartoonists had a field day mocking the President’s timidity. However, upon reading the account, a Brooklyn candy shop owner named Morris Michtom had a brilliant idea. Why not honor the President for his compassion, despite being known for his world-renowned, big game hunting expeditions? So, after securing the permission of the White House, Mitchom invented the first ‘Teddy’s Bear’ on this day (Nov 18) in 1902.
Well, a century later, we still pay tribute to Shaw’s achievement as a Nobel Prize author. We also still purchase teddy bears as a treasured gift for our cherished youth. In fact, an average, small teddy bear will put you out about $10 at Walmart. In case you’ve forgotten, that’s the crisp bill in your wallet with the smiling, handsome face of the nation’s first Secretary of the Treasury.
Comments