The other day Ally again chatted with me on Skype, and the name Don Juan came up for some strange reason. And now… a few days later; I felt I could relate that to web design, development and programming—anything “work” really.

Have you read anything about the tales of Don Juan? I hadn’t, so I Wikipedia-ed the shit out of it and there are loads of information in there. Basically, he’s the world’s greatest lover and he’s a natural born seducer. I can relate to that too but that’s not what I’m talking about.

I’m talking about us, the cyber-maniacs of the web-design-verse. It hit me like a Rolling Stone lick—we are the fucking Don Juan’s of it all. Otherwise, why are you doing what you do, whether it’s designing, programming, or working in a Red Light District booth? We are it.

Do you do it just because "satisfaction" of surviving another pay-day? Then get the fuck out. Seriously. Get. The. Fuck. Out. Because we, right here, we care, and we should be the Don Juan’s of whatever it is we do.

Once upon a time, Steve Jobs—the IT-superhero of the last three decades—so honestly and humbly put it like this:

“We’re here to make a dent in the universe. Otherwise, why even be here?”

As usual, he’s precisely spot on, just like I was when I was competing at the shooting ranges years ago.

If you’ve read this far—have come so far down the lines of text and all that’s in-between—then you’re most likely in it for the love. The love of the game, the life, baby. Congratulations, that’s fantastic, dear!

And I mean that, I really do. Because by being in it for the love of your work—and possibly hate of others work—you’ve gone from 0-60, my friend. It doesn’t matter how fast you got, or will get, there. It’s only that you are there that matters, and nothing else.

Money and the love for it, the greed, or just the necessity of having a job, may get you to 60, that’s for damn sure. It will get you far further too if you have enough of that shit in you. But there’s nothing like being in it for the love, the hate, the opinion-ation of you inner crazy self.

Money is a great motivator—you need it for survival—it’s primal instinct. All-too-natural-mindfuck of the 2000 or so past years.

But it’s not “the real deal”, you know. I’m right now above the clouds, watching the sun set outside my window seat on the plane I’m riding. It’s beautiful to the point of undescribable-ness so I won’t even try. Point is, is your work that beautiful, in your own opinion? If not, do you want it to be?

Then you’re on the right track, baby—your very own track, just where you should be. You’re doing something right; you’re in it for the love. Continue down that path and nobody else’s, and you’re already my own personal idol.

Money is numbers. Love is magic. Do the math, and then continue down your path. Pretty please with cherries on top.

Fuck “show me the money!”—“Show me the love” instead!

@mizwizzy mentioned something on Facebook relating to me and something called “profanity”—had to Google that. Personally, I care about crazy-ass-wise-ass-ness, and throwing in an F-grenade at someone tends to make them think just a lil’ bit more about what you’re saying. My love to you though, Ms. Wizzy! :) And I think this post kinda tuned it down a bit actually, but don’t get used to it!

Wow, this sunset is love(ly). 9.38 PM and about to land but I’ll remain in the clouds because this is a great day, and a great decade for all of us. Rock on.

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