I sat dumbly in the car as my wife gave a beautiful, intellectual analysis of how gorgeous the message of Still Alice was as we drove home from the Lyric, stewing in my depressive obsessive sewage of self-pity and fixation on the message of mortality from the movie, my fear and careerism, and how the movie rattled me. I was hearing and missing at the same time the lesson of the movie that Alec Baldwin’s character missed and that Kristen Stewart’s character completely embraced, the living in the moment, the interacting and learning from her mom and what she was going through, and her lack of willingness to have a backup plan and a focus on money in her career. And instead like Alec Baldwin’s character my complete focus was on my career as an entrepreneur, which is increasingly rooted in fear and the desire for financial stability in old age. The fear of being destitute and broken without friends or money to pay for my own medical care and a nice home and travel in old age eclipses all else, all the feelings of sanity from reading and writing and music, the calming of mind I used to feel, all of the peace and a deeper sense of being beyond financial status and stability and culturedness.