The Millionaire Fastlane Read Free Page B

retire in their 60s or 70s. Even at that age, they struggle to make ends meet and have to rely on bankrupted government programs just to survive. Others work well into their “golden years” just to maintain their lifestyle. Some never make it and work until death.
    How does this happen? Simple. “Get Rich Slow” takes a lifetime to travel and its success is nefariously dependent on too many factors you cannot control . Invest 50 years into a job and miserly living, then, one day, you can retire rich alongside your wheelchair and prescription pillbox. How uninspiring.
    Yet, millions undertake the 50-year gamble. Those who succeed receive their reward of financial freedom with a stinking lump of turd: old age . Gee thanks. But don't worry; patronization rains from the heavens: “These are the golden years!” Who they kidding? Golden to whom?
    If the journey devours 50 years of your life, is it worth it? A 50-year road to wealth isn't compelling, and because of it, few succeed and those who do settle for financial freedom in life's twilight.
    The problem with accepted norms of retirement is what you do not see. You don't see youth, you don't see fun, and you don't see the realization of dreams. The golden years aren't golden at all but a waiting room for death. If you want financial freedom before the Grim Reaper hits the on-deck circle, “Get Rich Slow” isn't the answer. If you want to retire young with health, vibrancy, and hair, you're going to need to ignore society's default “Get Rich Slow” roadmap and the gurus spoon-feeding you the slop in the trough. There is another way.
    Chapter Summary: Fastlane Distinctions
     
“Get Rich Slow” demands a long life of gainful employment.
“Get Rich Slow” is a losing game because it is codependent on Wall Street an anchored by your time.
The real golden years of life are when you're young, sentient, and vibrant.
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CHAPTER 2: HOW I SCREWED “GET RICH SLOW”
The object of life is not to be on the side of the masses, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane.
~ Marcus Aurelius
    Exposing the “Get Rich Slow” Dreamkiller
    As a teenager, I never gave myself a chance of becoming wealthy young. “Wealth +youth” was an equation that didn't compute simply because I didn't have the physical capabilities. Common roads to wealth for the young are competitive and require talent; become an actor, a musician, an entertainer or a pro athlete-all roads that had a big “ROAD CLOSED” sign that laughed, “Not a chance, MJ!”
    So, early in life, I conceded. I gave up on my dreams. “Get Rich Slow” made it abundantly clear: Go to school, get a job, settle for less, sacrifice, be miserly and quit dreaming about financial freedom, mountainside homes, and exotic cars. But I still dreamed. It's what teenage boys do. For me, it was all about the cars-specifically, the Lamborghini Countach.
    The 90 Seconds that Changed My Life
    I grew up in Chicago and was a porky kid with few friends. I wasn't interested in teenage girls or sports, but lying around in a beanbag stuffing my face with doughnuts while watching Tom-n-Jerry reruns.
    Parental supervision was absent; Mom divorced Dad years earlier, which left my older siblings and me to be raised by a single mother. Mom didn't have a college education or a career, unless a deep-frying job at Kentucky Fried Chicken qualified. That left me to my own indulgences, usually consumption of sweets and the latest episode of the A-Team. My exertions were epitomized by a long broken broomstick: I used it as the TV's remote control since the real one was broken and I was too lazy to move. When I did move, the local ice cream shop was often my target; a sugary delight was a motive I could count on.
    That day was like any other day: I sought ice cream. I plotted the flavor of my next indulgence and headed toward the ice cream parlor. When I arrived, there it was. I was face to face with my dream car; a Lamborghini Countach famous