​Success is one of humanity’s strangest concepts. If we don’t have success, we want it. If we do have it, we want more. “Success” can be defined as accomplishing an aim or goal, or the attainment of popularity or money, and “a success” is a person or thing that achieves the desired aims or attains prosperity. Most often, however, success is measured in terms of having gained popularity or wealth. I have found the more dangerous of those two gains to be wealth. We live in a society driven by profit; everyone is looking to make their millions. Yet every time we go into the checkout line at the store, we see, strewn across the covers of the tabloids, the faces of wealthy celebrities who have their millions and their fame and still have lousy relationships, not to mention depression in abundance.
            If we are to believe the information presented to us, the goal is to become rich and famous—which, in turn, apparently means miserable and depressed. I can assure you that you can be miserable and depressed when you’re broke, and that’s a hell of a lot more achievable than being rich. The whole thing gets even more complicated when you realize that it’s easy to build up an immunity to success in your own mind. In our world, where there are countless people who die from starvation on any given day, it’s easy to forget that having a pulse is a success in its own right. But how often do you actually think of that as a success? I would guess that unless your life has been on the line before, this might be the first time you’ve thought of it like that.
            That means you have a basic immunity to the concept of success already. This immunity gets even stronger when you reinforce it with all sorts of other ideas that society foists on us, like the need to have a big house or a nice car or a high-paying job. You’re expected to achieve a whole bunch of things just to be “normal,” let alone successful. And when you don’t meet the set threshold for “normality,” you become an outcast. Next thing you know, you feel like a failure in every way. You find it hard to get out of bed in the morning and difficult to do your job. Soon all your friends and family become distant to you, even when you are in the same room with them.
            I’m a happily married young white man in America. I’m the foreman of an automotive restoration shop. At the age of twenty-nine, I own my own home with my wife. I have several classic cars that I get to drive on a semiregular basis. I have a nice family and good friends. I’ve been to car shows and won awards. People see these things I have or things I have done, and they see me as a success. Yet I have my own immunity to success. I feel like a failure almost every day, even though I have everything I need. I’ve lived paycheck to paycheck. I’ve bought on credit; I haven’t been able to afford decent health care. I’ve worked difficult jobs for just enough money to get by. Despite me beating myself up about those things, most people don’t know they’re even bothering me.
            People tend to see what’s on the surface. They don’t usually bother to ask about how someone really feels. Why? In some cases, it’s because they are jealous of the other person’s perceived success, even if it was hard won or if it doesn’t bring them happiness. Besides, how would you even answer someone if they did ask you about how you really felt? Could you answer, or are you running from that too, as I am?
The only way to resolve this whole mess is to decide for yourself what you want. Above all else, stop trying to find the success that others want and look for the future youwant. Don’t beat your head against the wall on account of others’ opinions. If you want to be an astronaut or an author or anything in between, start with your needs.
            If you find yourself needing some sort of success to move forward, set a little goal that is easy to reach. Once you reach it, find a goal that’s a bit bigger. Eventually, you will find yourself capable of reaching even the most ambitious of goals. Give success your own definition, not someone else’s. If people get jealous or are mean to you because you’re trying to reach your goal, remember that it’s their shortcoming, not yours. Whatever it is you are trying to achieve, know that it will be hard to get there, but rewarding in the end. And remember that happiness, not monetary wealth, is the ultimate form of success. 
                 Let go of what society has taught you and think about what you can teach yourself.

         ​In this ever-changing world we live in, it becomes quite easy to forget the traditions of our past. As a kid, I was afraid of all things related to death, which is often vilified by our modern society. But when I was thirteen and already fascinated by vintage cars from the twenties through the sixties, I watched “Ghostbusters” for the first time. I became enamored with the 1959 Cadillac ambulance that was featured in the film.
            Ah, you never forget your first hearse. A destined turn of events led me to locate an original 1959 Cadillac hearse of almost the same model as the ambulance in the film. It was then that I first understood the meaning of the vehicle; a lavish transport designed for the sole purpose of escorting our dearly departed to their final resting place. I wasn’t afraid of the dark anymore.
            Why did this old hearse spark such a shift in my perception? If you’ve never spent some quality time with a hearse, here’s a thing that becomes apparent straight away: hearses are metaphysical, metaphorical, and sometimes physical gateways from this world to the next. They define our departure with dignity and class, providing those we leave behind with a sense of closure. They bring a silent connection to a door our society has locked tight. They say, “Death is death. It happens to us all, and it’s OK.” I often ponder this as I look at my fleet of six (and counting) death carriages in my backyard. 
            I have often been asked, “Aren’t they creepy to drive?” The answer varies depending on the individual hearse. There are three basic types of commercial vehicles that fall under the category of “hearse.” The most common variety is the purpose-built hearse, designed for the transportation of bodies. The second type is what the industry refers to as a combination vehicle, a hearse that could be used as either body transport or an ambulance (more common in small towns in decades gone by). The third, and almost forgotten, hearse is theflower car. This vehicle was designed to go ahead of or trail behind the hearse to carry a vast array of flowers in honor of the deceased. They could also carry a body and were often built on a hearse chassis. 
            In my personal experience, the purpose-built hearses are what I would call “happy hearses.” Their task one of respect and honor, the energies around these hearses are of a positive nature. They are usually quite pleasant companions on the road. Thecombination vehicles are a more tumultuous bunch, as they both respect the dead and sometimes have to fight for the living. People don’t generally die or experience great fear and pain in hearses, but they do in ambulances. A hearse used as a combination vehicle could have the same passenger twice… To me, an ambulance is more haunting than any hearse. A hearse with a combination history can be interesting indeed. (My wife says to give them some love, too. They’ve had a hard life.)
            So what is the point of all of this hearse-related babble? Most things today are cookie cutter and slapped together just to make a quick buck. Vintage hearses are finely crafted examples of our respect for the departed, and ultimately, for their life. Choosing to admire such an integral part of our past can provide a window to the future, and facing our inevitable death in a positive, respectful, and classy way leads us to a more gratifying and appreciative life. Hearses are not meant to be intimidating; rather, they are a symbol, if not a catalyst, for the good at the end of the road. To destroy a hearse is no different than desecrating a tombstone, so let us honor the hearses by giving them the respect they deserve.