On Draft Day, June 26, wear a five-button suit made of paper money. Let technicians from the TNT crew peel 50s from your pants as you pass on your way to the podium. The King James Bible says it's easier for a camel to pass through a needle's eye than for a rich man to gatecrash heaven. So start molting money today. Wilt Chamberlain was the Big Dipper. You should go down as the Big Tipper. God and agents get 10%, but give a good waitress 20. You can't take it with you, no matter the size of your Hummer.
Never decline a charitable request. Nonprofits need your money, sure. But so do the non-sheltered (those panhandling outside Gund Arena) or the nonemployed (those seeking a position as your personal chef's personal assistant). Life's too short—and your bank statement too long—to question the motives of everyone who begs you for a Benjamin. You say money doesn't grow on trees? Au contraire, mon fr�re. Money's made of paper. Paper grows on trees.
Easy for me to say, I know. But I sincerely believe you'll be well-served by this advice. Spurs center David Robinson is beloved for giving $9 million to build a school in San Antonio. Nine million dollars, Bron Bron, is just part of one year's ancillary income. You can do so much more.
You can, above all, trust people. I am here to help you. I have no hidden agenda. I ask only this: That you circle the first letter of every paragraph in this column, see what those letters spell, then reciprocate my kindness in whatever way you see fit.