BUTCH – I have spoiled you. You have a silver spoon in your mouth. I want you to learn about life.
PATRICK – Dad, I know about life. That’s why you sent me to the best university.
BUTCH – Patrick, I know it is good that you are oozing with confidence but you still don’t know anything about life. The university is theoretical wisdom – books, classrooms, pretty girls.
PATRICK – Girls are not theoretical, dad.
BUTCH – Son, I want to immerse you in experiential wisdom, in the dynamic cruel world so you learn about life.
PATRICK – Dad, I went on a two-week trip in Spain. I learned a lot.
BUTCH – You learned nothing, Patrick. I want to dip you in mud.
PATRICK – To learn about life? Mud?
BUTCH – Yes. Mud is a healing substance. It is medicinal. It is good for you, for your face, for your soul. I want you to spend a week with a poor farmer’s family. I’ve arranged it.
eastwind journals
February 26, 2025, Archives tr598A/B
By Bernie V. Lopez, eastwindreplyctr@gmail.com / www.eastwindjournals.com
Share this article with friends via blog link – https://eastwindjournals.com/2025/02/26/the-father-son-billionaires/
This story is inspired by true characters.
BILLIONAIRE BUTCH – Patrick, my son, you know that I am a rags-to-riches guy, right?
PATRICK – Of course, dad. You were selling injection bottles with nice tight rubber caps in Bambang as a boy. You were eating left overs in noodle restaurants.
BUTCH – I have spoiled you. You have a silver spoon in your mouth. I want you to learn about life.
PATRICK – Dad, I know about life. That’s why you sent me to the best university.
BUTCH – Patrick, I know it is good that you are oozing with confidence but you still don’t know anything about life. The university is theoretical wisdom – books, classrooms, pretty girls.
PATRICK – Girls are not theoretical, dad.
BUTCH – I want to immerse you in experiential wisdom, in the dynamic cruel world so you learn about life.
PATRICK – I went on a two-week trip in Spain. I learned a lot.
BUTCH – You learned nothing, Patrick. I want to dip you in mud.
PATRICK – To learn about life? Mud?
BUTCH – Yes. Mud is a healing substance. It is medicinal. It is good for you, for your face, for your soul. I want you to spend a week with a poor farmer’s family. I’ve arranged it.
PATRICK – (After one week with a farmer’s family) Not enough, Dad. I want to stay for a whole month. This thing is opening my eyes. Thanks, Dad, that you are giving me an education outside the sterile university.
BUTCH – Go ahead. One whole month.
PATRICK – (After a month.) You can’t imagine what I’ve learned, Dad.
BUTCH – Tell me about it.
PATRICK – We have a pet dog. They have four.
BUTCH – What else?
PATRICK – We have a swimming pool with treated water, which reaches the end of the garden. They have a river, with crystal clear water, fish and other beautiful things, which goes all the way to the horizon. We have solar-energized light in our garden but they have the stars and the moon to illuminate them. Our garden reaches up to the wall, theirs, up to the horizon. We have a false sense of wealth. Dad, they are richer than us in many ways.
BUTCH – Now, I am learning from you.
PATRICK – We buy our food from the groceries, all neatly packed in cellophane. Sometimes they hide the rotten part and include it in the pack. The farmers grow it, harvest it and cook it fresh. No wonder the kids of the farmers do not get flu. They are strong and tough. Their immunity system is built by nature. Ours is weak, based on medicine in bottles we buy.
BUTCH – Now, you are talking – pure wisdom from immersion in mud.
PATRICK – I wanna be a farmer and wallow in the mud.
BUTCH – Good for you, son. Not a poor farmer, perhaps a bit rich but simple.
PATRICK – Simplicity and wealth can go together, dad. You are right to give me a silver spoon in my mouth before immersing me in mud. I have learned for myself. The Philippines is the biggest exporter of coconuts worldwide. Indonesia is a poor second. Yet, we are so poor. The wealth in coconuts is beyond imagination. Dad, I want you to join me on a trip to Bicol.
BUTCH – I like that.
PATRICK – Do me a favor, dad. Pass everything on to Joel (younger brother). He is the aggressive hard-working entrepreneur of the family). Let him run our empire. I am satisfied to be his R&D consultant.
So they go on a trip. Butch learns that Patrick becomes the biggest exporter of coir (coconut husk fiber) used in Japan, mixed with a binder to make the strongest plywood. Butch learns that Patrick exports activated carbon filters made from coconut shells to Sears Roebuck. He charges an exorbitant price because no one else knows the high-tech way of producing them (at that time).
They roam the muddy road of far-flung villages in Bicol’s coconut county, buying discarded coconut shells and husks at triple the price and still make loads of money while helping to uplift marginal farmers. Father and son are accompanied by five ten-wheelers, buying up all the cheap coconut by-products on muddy road sides that is making his family and the farmers rich.
PATRICK – I met Elisa, a farmer’s exquisite daughter. Would you permit me to marry a poor farmer’s daughter?
BUTCH – If you marry her, she wouldn’t be poor anymore. Go ahead. If you love her, why not. Break up with Natalie in school. I don’t like that pretentious spoiled brat anyway. She will destroy you.
PATRICK – She can’t destroy me, dad. But Elisa strengthens my soul. I take long walks with her in the rainforest of Mt. Apo. She knows a lot about rare medicinal herbs and is teaching me.
BUTCH – Pretty expensive walks. You have to fly to Mt. Apo?
PATRICK – What will I do with our money? Put it in a bank? Let’s pass on the empire to Joel. He is industrious. I am not. I am an artist, a bum. I’m just rich with ideas. My mind churns, and the mud has catalyzed it to greater heights.
Joel takes over the empire, busy busy as a bee. Patrick and Butch go on escapades – the awesome prehistoric temples at Tenochtitlan, the ancient monasteries atop towering vertical limestone cliffs in Meteora, Greece, and dozens of exotic places yet undiscovered by mainstream tourism. They buy high-end portable recording machines and record the rainforest animals in the Amazon rainforest, the symphony of parrots and cicadas. Then, they sell it to National Geographic for peanuts.
Everywhere they go, Butch is learning from his son Patrick, only because he decided to dip him in pure mud in his youth.
Joel, in his neat barong, picks them up in their muddy clothes at the airport, ashamed to show them to his girlfriend.
JOEL – We are getting a windfall from income in the coir for Japanese plywood, and from activated carbon filters for Sears Roebuck in Chicago. Are you sure you want to go to your five-star hotel in those clothes? You can stay at my house and wash up.
PATRICK – No thanks. They respect us for our money, not our clothes. They know us.
The empire Billionaire Butch built is in good hands. Joel is competent, a go-getter. But his heart is somehow closer to Patrick who does not see money but ideas.
BUTCH – I am so happy that I have raised two kids who are complete opposites. One is Mary who takes care of the empire, one is Martha who takes care of ideas that keep the empire moving into new grounds.
JOEL – Dad, may I ask why you never immersed me in mud?
BUTCH – Because you can’t take it. I know you. Don’t be jealous but your brother Patrick is tougher.
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