Chapter 3

I Must Be in the
Back Row

So the last will be first, and the first will be last.
—Matthew 20:16

In the 1980s, there was a series of commercials that did a good job of finding catchy ways to connect with their audience. Some of these commercials featured a journeyman professional baseball player named Bob Uecker who became quite well known as an announcer for the Milwaukee Brewers and a sometimes actor who had a way of delivering short, funny witticisms that were easy to remember.

One of his most famous catchphrases came during a commercial in which he is in his seat at a baseball game preparing to watch the game and talking about how ex-big leaguers like him get special treatment when the usher informs him that he’s in the wrong seat. Uecker pompously remarks, “Oh, I must be in the front row.” The punchline is that Uecker’s seat was actually in the nosebleed section, the farthest seats away from the action as possible, where they pan to him sitting all by himself, yelling at the umpires. Since then, these back row seats have often been jokingly referred to as “Uecker seats” by sports fans everywhere.

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While “I must be in the front row, oops, I am in the back row” has been a source of fun and mostly trivial conversation over the years, there’s a more serious side to this topic. At times, it seems as if the world is divided into the “haves” and the “have nots.” “A-listers” sit courtside, cut in line or skip lines altogether, and fly first class or alone with their sushi and pets while the rest of us are just happy to be there.

For most of my journey growing up, I sat in the “back row” and more recently have had both “back row” and “front row” experiences. If I am honest, I have to admit that the front row isn’t all bad, although I also think most of the time, the people in the back row are more interesting.

I have also learned, as time has gone on and I have become at least a little bit wiser, that seeking the front row at all costs doesn’t lead to happiness, and that too much “front row” living can be a dangerous thing.

There was an article inVanity Fair written back in 2001 that provides a good illustration of the potential pitfalls of sitting in the “front row” for too long. The article highlights various socialites who frequented the island of Capri back in the day.

Capri, located in the Tyrrhenian Sea off the coast of southern Italy, is a small island (only about four square miles) and shoots out of the sea, with her limestone cliffs reaching heights of two thousand feet providing for a dramatic and unique setting. The island has always been home to the jet-setting crowd, a place where the yachts that dot the shoreline are measured by meters, not feet, and where the patrons are whisked to shore at night, taxied up the steep hills where they walk the cobblestone streets shopping for Gucci, Hermes, and Rolex before dining at fancy restaurants and then returning to their mansions on the water, ready to do the same thing the next day.

The article guides the reader through the history of Capri and shares about the lives of many of the famous people who made the island a summer home. While part of the article seduces us in a way that we wish we could be part of this privileged lifestyle, there is also an ominous tone to the stories about the dangers of living in decadence and without any real purpose.

There is a saying that has been around for years about the dangers of boredom, that “idle time is the devil’s playground,” and much of the story talks about the depravity that manifests itself i