I’ve tolerated a year of Sam and our friend, Paul Horne, blaring about the genius of Tim Ferriss and his Four-Hour Workweek, and it has bordered on insufferable. I’ve dubbed them ‘Ferriss-ites’ (rhymes with parasites) and through the storm of my nay-saying about their mascot, they have remained stalwart and faithful.
There must be something to this guy (plus, he’s blond, hot, and I suspect latently gay) so I’ve conceded to suspend my disbelief as best as I can and read the book.
I’m two chapters in just past the part where he wins the Japanese cage fighting competition with wiener moves of using dehydration to monkey with his weight and ‘exploiting a little known loophole’ and pushing the competitors off the platform enough times to win the championship. Okay, he won, technically, and probably prompted a re-write of the rulebook, but a wiener with a title is still a wiener.
Tim Ferriss’ rule-bending life almost conjures that of his quasi-namesake, Ferris Bueller, except Bueller maintained a sense of cool that I have yet to see from Tim. Convincing, innovative bravado is vastly sexier than loophole-exploitation every time. It’s also no secret that Tim’s favorite films are those of the Bourne series (another hot blond), and I feel certain that Tim emulates Bourne as much as I strive to achieve a higher state of Bond-ness.
It was at this point that I realized that I knew Tim Ferriss well. He is that ass-kissing finagler who eschewed grade school class structure by volunteering in the library, wrangling his way out of gym, testing-out to skip a year of Spanish, and running home from bus stop bullies every day. He is that kid, and so was I. The difference being that I grew weary of the sprint home and stopped being that kid. He didn’t. He wrote a bestseller about it and is trotting the globe, while I’m reading his book and blogging about him in the interstitial spaces of my 9-6 corporate existence.
Two chapters in, the biggest thing Tim Ferriss has shown me is the Bronson who might have been had I consistently continued being a maverick; the Bronson who still might be salvageable.