1. Welcome to SportsJournalists.com, a friendly forum for discussing all things sports and journalism.

    Your voice is missing! You will need to register for a free account to get access to the following site features:
    • Reply to discussions and create your own threads.
    • Access to private conversations with other members.
    • Fewer ads.

    We hope to see you as a part of our community soon!

What were you doing when you were 23?

Discussion in 'Sports and News' started by The Big Ragu, Mar 6, 2008.

  1. The Big Ragu

    The Big Ragu Moderator Staff Member

    The Forbes list of the world's wealthiest people is out... And number 785, with a net worth of a cool $1.5 billion, is a 23-year-old:

    One rich kid!

    And for the first time in 13 years, Bill Gates isn't the wealthiest man in the world.

    Sorry Bill :(
  2. BYH

    BYH Active Member

    Gorging myself with Domino's, mocking Ragu for refusing to join me and generally reveling in my awesome metabolism. :D :D :-\ :'(
  3. imjustagirl

    imjustagirl Active Member

    Living alone, hating my job and being far too sarcastic.

    Good thing times change, eh?
  4. TheSportsPredictor

    TheSportsPredictor Well-Known Member

    Fucking drop outs.
  5. alleyallen

    alleyallen Guest

    At 23? Hmmm...I was married to Ruthie, serving in the Navy and about to leave the USS George Washington for a duty station at a submarine base in Connecticut.
  6. outofplace

    outofplace Well-Known Member

    At 23...I started to get my shit together...not that I ever really finished getting it together, but that's when things started to turn for the better.

    After nearly screwing up my way out of my first job in the business, the light went on (the words of my boss at the time). Another bad week or two and I wouldn't have made it past my 3-month review. As it was, I ended up staying there quite a while before moving on to a better job.

    More importantly, when I was 23 I met Mrs. OOP, though it was nearly five years later before we were married.
  7. goalmouth

    goalmouth Well-Known Member

    Someone asked me what the business plans of Facebook, myspace, et al, were. I said I didn't know. Facebook -- a billionaire owner with $150M in annual sales. Another VC mirage.
  8. Frank_Ridgeway

    Frank_Ridgeway Well-Known Member

    At 23, I was earning $375 per week on the sports desk of a mid-major more than 1,000 miles from home. I paid $200 per month for a furnished one-bedroom apartment with cinderblock walls a few blocks from a major state university and ate at the same diner nearly every day, unless it was my night off, in which case I added to the stack of empty pizza boxes in the kitchen. I drove an enormous 12-year-old Buick, and the radio dial broke, so I listened to the same godawful country-music station for two years rather than getting it fixed. The bars closed about a half-hour after we got out of work and in two years in that town I believe I had six dates, so my nights usually consisted of watching Linda Ellerbee on NBC Overnight, the only station available at that hour in my not-yet-wired-for-cable part of the city. It was a good newspaper, but I hated living there.
  9. The Big Ragu

    The Big Ragu Moderator Staff Member

    I was eating Domino's when I was 23-years-old, BYH... The year after college, I was a bit lost. I spent half a year to a year refusing to leave the college town I had attended. I turned into that guy. The junk food wasn't the biggest problem. It was the booze. I think I spent a whole year drunk and I put on a gut for the first time in my life. I tended bar (not very well) at night and pretty much stayed soused for hours at a time. Then I'd sleep all day, wake up hung over, transfer myself to a ratty old couch with great effort, scratch myself and watch World Cup Soccer on the Spanish station (the only place you could find it) for several hours with my hand in my boxer shorts, until I had to go back out and press on a tap over and over again. It contrasted in a scary way with a friend who was younger, who was still in school, that first summer. He woke every day at 5 a.m., rowed, went to a research job and was a productive member of society. He went to medical school.

    One day, I was out sunbathing--if you can call it that--on this beautiful quad in the middle of the campus and this woman we sort of knew walked by. Without even thinking, I said, "hubba hubba," except a bit too loud. I am really self-conscious and shy and reserved for real, but I was drunk... My best friend was really embarrassed for me and decided to do an intervention... before people did interventions. My friends tricked me, got to together, and when I walked in, they locked the door and read me the riot act about how I was a disgrace. I had taken the LSATs, done well, and gotten into some decent law schools (before I decided there was no fucking way in hell I was doing that and randomly stopped the application process after sending off the first five applications at the top of the pile). I was under tremendous pressure to go, because I had no other plan. I had taken the GMATs (or is it the GREs?) and had an amazing grant to do a combined journalism/economics program at a very good school that would have been all paid for, including most expenses. I couldn't bring myself to do that one either, even though it should have been a no brainer. I had nothing against it. I was good at it. But I was afraid to be an adult.

    My mom died my senior year of college and I didn't know how to process it. I am not very emotionally evolved. I think it stifled my ability to get on with life. So there I was, the loser who refuses to leave college, who had lost all social skills.

    I eventually ended up taking the grant and getting those advanced degrees... they actually showed two-years worth of understanding and welcomed me despite how idiotic I had been. They were both useless for different reasons, although there were secondary benefits about where they took me to and the opportunities I was able to create as a result that made me life into what it is today. I won't get into the Master's in Journalism I have or the school I got it from. The Economics program was hardcore, but unless I took up the PhD track they wanted me to continue on--and I didn't want that to be my life--it was of limited value.

    Since then, I have always had a knack for creating opportunities that give me a great deal of independence (what I need most in life) and pay a bit better than I could make with a traditional media job. Really offbeat ones that have given me a lot of independence in the work I do. It comes with choices. I like certain things about what I am doing now, but miss some of what I had to give up in what I was doing before.

    But at 23, damn, I was eating the Dominos (with pepperoni, BYH!) and drinking more beer than my liver could handle.
  10. Ace

    Ace Well-Known Member

    I had a billion when I was 23, but I squandered it in the stock market, dammit.
  11. Baron Scicluna

    Baron Scicluna Well-Known Member

    At age 23, I got my first journalism job at a small paper in a very small town in the middle of nowhere. I didn't know a soul, and spent most of my weekends, when I didn't have to work unpaid OT, with my girlfriend, who's now my wife. I'd like to think that year was a year of building character, because it sure as hell didn't build my bank account.
  12. jboy

    jboy Guest

    When I was 23 I was thinking how much better my life would be after I got the job I really wanted, got older, got settled and figured things out a little more. Oh well.
Draft saved Draft deleted

Share This Page