I Remain Below the Radar

I have a theory.

I read a new report on the top 50 video influencers in real estate today. Let me back up. I subscribed to various YouTube channels that are in the real estate space to acquire knowledge and grow my personal brand. Both in the space of selling residential real estate and in learning to hone my craft as a YouTube creator. The latter is a hobby.

Today one of my most cringe worthy content creators, name withheld because I don’t care to emphasize my jealousy over another person’s success in a space I plan to dominate. I almost went there.

Anyhow, I was watching the channel, which my I add is the last time I will do this, and saw there was another new top list. You know those lists that are comprised of one persons opinion of who is who in the space of x?

When I saw this list I knew the regulars who would be on the list. They are earned. But there were a few individuals who were there and a few who were not. Namely me.

Even as I write this I fell like a total crybaby pussy fart.

I can’t help it. I work so fucking hard at this and yet I remain unrecognized. Rejected. Overlooked.

Many years ago I was on a softball team for men. It was more like a one-off pickup game but it meant something. There were even custom shirts. the shirt was a high quality jersey that cost me $50 buck. It was hideous and I gave it away to someone who looked better in it than me.

There was the moment where we were being picked in the roster for going up to bat and the whole selection process had begun. I was last. What the fuck? Sure I was fat and over 30, but why the hell was I last? I run marathons for fuck’s sake! Can you tell I am still butt-hurt?

In the middle of the game after I was benched I began to make an observation. This was a popularity contest. A god damn high school, teen-aged bullshit click that I had once again lived to suffer through as an adult. My god, how?

In high school I will admit I was an outcast. It said strange things and stared off into space a lot. It was not that I was awkward or carry it was that most conversations bore me and looking at humanity without being cynical about their flaws against mankind made me very uncomfortable. OK maybe I was odd. I suppose that insisting that I sit at the table with the short bus crowd did not help. But hey, they were more like me than the cool kids.

So there I was thirty something benched and rejected once again. I got up and asked to take the field on one than more inning and kept getting passed by. That did not bother me so much as the demographic that I was being passed up by. Some of these guys looked like a health hazard. Seriously, there was a composite of what can only be described as a parade of middle, over the middle-aged men who’s cholesterol laden arteries were actively being washed by the 7 cooler of beer in the dugout.

Don’t get me wrong I was probably at my heaviest but I was still fast and full of energy. Did I mention I ran a marathon that year. Ok, ran is not the operative word but I did finish. That has to count for something.

I had to get in the game. If not to play it was to not like a total fucking reject. I was seriously the only one on the bench. The epitome of a bench-warmer and the culmination of my entire life being displayed for the universe to witness. The gods of cool were once again having a Louth at how much I can withstand in this ocean of popular fish while this random sea weed remains planted for them as a backdrop for their cool stories. Like a movie extra who looks at the camera and the director overlooks it only to be on the cutting room floor before the premier.

I approached the captain of the team.

“Hey, Can I get in?”

“Not Right now”

“Dude, I am not sure why I am the bench. I am faster that half the team and although I can’t really hit that great, I do run marathons you know”

“To be honest this is not a marathon. Your just not in my top ten”

I sat down.

Top ten? Top ten?! Holy shit. Are you kidding me? Top ten?!!!

Asshole.

I find it funny that over ten years later that top ten joke remain a part of my mental playlist.

Now you know why this list I have to suffer through became so painful this morning. It was like someone up there wants to see me remain a number 11.

The gods of coolness and clicks has had another chuckle at my expense.

So I remain below the radar. This is my theory.

I have a theory that James Festini must remain below the radar of popularity because it is not my time. THat somehow the gods have a plan for me. That somehow no matter how much energy I pump into the sky there cannot be rain. That once my time comes there will be a great flood and the world will come two by two and join me on my arc of oddities and outcasts to dance in the glory of our triumphant journey through the field of socially acceptable assholes and rise above them.

We will crowd surf through the ocean of those who once overlooked my art and now the want nothing more than to wonder how it was that I came out of nowhere as an overnight sensation.

It’s not like I am a superstar athlete or a musician with a talent. I am just an artist and a businessman. I am trying to create a sub genre of individuals who work hard and play hard. I suppose there is nothing sexy or popular to what it is I do. I suppose there is a reason that I remain below the radar.

It may be because I suck.

I may actually have created an art form or business niche that is either ahead of its time or too late for acceptance. SO I remain steadfast in my effort to document my effort in the field of sales and create content around my whims and spew my recycled wisdom in the form of audio, text and video until one person at a time hears me. and when they do hear me they listen and they become members of a family.

Remember that Blind Melon video for their this song rain? It was about a little girl who was dressed as a bee who tap dances. She wander around the city dancing for people who just don’t get her. Towards the end of the video you can see her number 11 status grow into a pitiful sadness. Until she stumbles upon a field of tap dancing bees.

I just cannot believe it is so hard to find my tribe of tap dancing bees.

This is my theory.

I have a deep-rooted belief that individuals like Anthony Robbins, Deepak Chopra, Oprah Winfrey, Eckhart Tolle, Casey Neistat, James Ray, Jason Silva, Casey Neistat, Benicio Del Toro, Gary Vaynerchuck and even Grant Cardone are not my gurus or even my idols but that I belong in their company. Like an artist colony were Picasso, Van Gogh, Dali and Frida Kahlo sit on a sand short and paint landscapes and drink wine for months. I truly believe that in my heart I may have to be dead to be “discovered” as one of the originals.

I don’t want to be the king. I just wasn’t to sit in the court of the king. Even if I am the jester.

That being said. Fuck that top 50 real estate influencers list. Fuck that top ten coach, fuck that top 5 real estate podcast list and fuck the naysayers. Even if I am the only one who gives a shit.

I will continue to fly below the radar.

I will continue to provide my unique perspective on business and pleasure in a renegade documentary format commonly called vlog. I will continue to creat art and mount it to the wall of my digital museum for those to walk by and ignore. I will wait and watch for those few who get off of the short bus and engage them in intellectual conversation.

We will laugh and enjoy tap dancing in our bee costumes and make our own top fifty list of those who passed over us while we stayed diligent in our madness. That we were unwavering in our originality at the cost of losing popularity. Those who love us are offered a glass of wine and a paint brush. Those who disrespected us will sit on the bench and watch us play.

This is my theory.

Soldier

Some of us left family their girlfriends or their wives

Some have left their children who have just begun their lives

With no expression on our faces all of us from different places

We have come here for a reason and some are now regretting

Why we put ourselves through this and what is it we are getting

Minds congested, eyes blood red a cadence rings inside our head

We force a smile , tell many jokes to cover up this mental hoax

Not knowing which is harder to hurry up and wait or scare our mind by wondering if your girl is on a date

Expect to leave here at a certain time the rumors spread to play the mind

There is very little, but a lot to do we try to make it better by holding on to special thoughts and praying for a letter

Gave us boots, sometimes a roof for our head

Gave us clothes, sometimes a warm, cozy bed

Inject us with a needle hydraulic cure all potion

Make me cut off most my hair and move me near the ocean

We tough it out like macho men we do the manly things again

Some have hopes of going home leave for what? ­ to avoid being alone

Why did I join this army, could it be a big mistake?

Did I stop to think ahead and see what it would take?

I guess I joined for discipline and for a life direction

But now I found just why I came at ease pay no attention

I now get paid to march and wait from break of day till it’s dark and late

But I see this as just a test I pass this one I’ll pass the rest

I will not tough this out men because this is not meant for me

I don’t have a plan for living with the U.S.­ Infantry

When I need to ask a question

I do expect a good reply

I have to live my life alone, alone is how I’ll die

You will have to stop the country that causes hostility

You are the group of soldiers the U.S.­ Infantry

Chaos­ and ­Embrolio

Give me just a moment to gather all my thoughts

Let me put together all the things that I have got

So many things are going on so little time to think

All the major “slip my minds” pass by in just a blink

I need some time to catch my breath so I can clearly see

What are all the details that have passed in front of me?

Plans are left uncertain, too many books to open

Piles of paper on my desk, I wonder how I am coping

Things to do and people to call

I look to the left and my coffee cup falls

I wipe it up quick with yesterday’s sock

I look at the wall only 7 o’ clock

What have I done to go though this trail?

When all I can do is just sit back and smile

I will one day take time

To walk barefoot on grass

And dream of the day that I see you kiss my ass

Acceptance

I never knew of failure, I’ve always known success

Expected so much more from me and never any less

When my life was going good and everything was right

I had to stop to bow my head and then gave up the fight

So now I wait for a second to chance this time I will not quit

I won’t be called a failure I’d rather stand not sit

Doubt and confusion feeling very blue

Real or just illusion lost on what to do

Fear and mass dilemma everything is fast

Try so hard to be the first and always wind up last

Physical and mental, times are getting rough

All that I am giving is never quite enough

I guess it was a mental block or maybe just a case

Of negative emotion that made me lose the race

The people who I called my friends

They now think it’s funny

I cannot wait for their rainy day

To laugh cause mine is sunny

I know that when my pain is gone and no more is to woe

I’ll stand upon the highest point and shout

           ” I told you so!”

Laughing at Adversity, from the book “Life…There’s An App for That”

You can change you state of mind from depression to bliss in an instant. That’s why drugs are so damn popular, because it’s a way of changing your state of mind without really trying. It’s a rather inexpensive way of artificially stimulating bliss. This laughter that I keep talking about a form of euphoria.

If you’re ever in the conflict are in a situation where the world is collapsing. You can literally reach over and grab your imaginary whippet has the boss is yelling at you and Telling you you’re fired. In your collapsing and falling apart and you’re ready to throw up or pass out or have an anxiety attack. Just reach over and grab your little whippet can and take a big old hit.

Yes, the application requires that you pull out your imaginary can of whipped cream, shake it, press the nozzle, and suck in all the air, and then suddenly you feel a rush and smile. You say,”hey man no problem,” and let out a little chuckle then watch as the adversities slowly melts away. I am sure the boardroom will now yell at you ask you what the hell are you doing? Just look at them like they’re completely insane. And in that thought laughter is for sure the funniest remedy.

Who knows, you could probably collect the insurance policy when the boss tells HR that you are completely insane. I use nitrous as an example but you can substitute it with an imaginary joint and a lighter. Just pull it out of your pocket and light it up and take a hit. I realize once again that this solution to a problem is rather unorthodox. However, I would rather laugh my way through adversity than cry, And besides you know this is some funny shit.