If you’re one of 97 percent of Americans, there comes a time when you realize that you’ll never be a millionaire. (If you fall within the other three percent, my email’s down below.) Some of us realize this when we’re young; other, more deluded sects of the 97 percent spend their whole lives chasing this arbitrary figure and still come up short. I’d like to think I fall under the former.
For years, I’ve made a habit of not learning about any get-rich schemes when they actually have the ability to make you rich. This isn’t some self-righteous, anti-capitalist venture, as much as it is avoiding the chronic headaches from CNBC tickers. It’s too much!
From what I hear, Bitcoin’s the latest thing that’s getting people rich, at least if you got in the game two or three years ago instead of right this very moment when I’m emptying my savings into Bitcoin. I don’t know much of anything about it, besides that it’s something that dudes apparently like to talk about on dates, the Juggalos have their own form of currency, and Kanye could’ve maybe rivaled Diddy’s absurd wealth if he stopped worrying and learned to love the Coinye.
My coworkers tell me it’s too late to invest in Bitcoin, which is fine, because I have a better idea: convincing Chad Kroeger and Nickelback to go public. It may sound far-fetched, sure, but there’s some logic behind it. Right now, if Nickelback formed a company and sold shares of its brand, the price would be lower than it’s ever been—the band still performs in large, outdoor arenas to thousands of adoring fans, but earlier this year saw its lowest major label debut to date on the Billboard 200. With a band name close enough to a strain of cryptocurrency, a few unsuspecting tech nerds would fall for it and accidentally invest.
If Nickelback went public, I’d get in on the ground floor, with full knowledge that the group is a Lady Bird-esque song placement away from hipster reappraisal (and therefore soaring prices) and then maybe an entire generation eventually admitting that Kroeger and company have some damn hits. One can hope.