This morning, while opening up my email, I was once again hit with a reminder that the Haves are Having such things any rational human being on this planet could not POSSIBLY fathom. It was the headline: “World’s Most Expensive Apartment Could Sell In Monaco.” Now the apartment in question (“apartment”… HAHAHA!) is going to be for sale at, perhaps, 400 million dollars. Supposedly, it will have five levels with a kitchen on every level. Yes, of course, because that is so important and necessary.
Oh, and, according to the Yahoo article, the apartment will also have “…a water slide extending from a dance floor to the private infinity pool on the terrace.”
The person who will rent this place has already been prejudged by yours truly as Shitdick Showoff of the Decade.
(Obscene doesn’t even begin to describe it)
The disparities between the rich and the poor (who now include the decaying middle class) are so extreme these days that I sincerely hope there WILL be a revolt in the not too distant future. The pitchforks, as Nick Hanauer shrewdly noted, are a’comin’.
Frankly, I blame the bread, the dough, the green…the MONEY…and those corporate sharks who make us reliant on it.
To me, to many, money is, most certainly, the root of all evil. If money was a movie character, money would be Emperor Palpatine, Hannibal Lecter, Max Cady, that SS guy who melts like hot Playdoh in Raiders of the Lost Ark, Cruella DeVil, Gordon Gekko AND the Joker rolled into one.
Over most of my adult lifetime, I have had little to no money. I rejoiced one morning when I found ten bucks in the bottom of my underwear drawer. Ten lousy bucks. Seriously. I spent it on something I shouldn’t have right after I’d found it. It’s lost now, nowhere to be found, never again to be seen. It was in my hand one second, and then it just disappeared in a flash. Sneaky bastard.
Money has made me angry and severely depressed. I hate to use the word “bitter” because it makes me think of cranky, old biddies with sixteen cats and a cane to beat small children and fuzzy puppies with, but perhaps “bitter” is a much more appropriate word to use instead of “angry.” Anyway, money has made me feel loathe to the people I truly love. Money turns people into enemies, when it shouldn’t. It’s a very touchy topic of conversation. One person has a story of a fortune gained, yet another has a story of trying to survive on diddly-squat (for those unfamiliar with the term, “diddly-squat” is a type of currency not accepted by 99.99999 percent of all vendors).
Money also makes family members bitter towards each other. I love my dad; he’s definitely earned his way up to his position and then some. However, my dad forgets what diddly-squat is and what it’s like to live on diddly-squat. He once said to me, “Someone your age should have at least $100,000 in savings.” I laughed incredulously and said, “Dad, I have diddly-squat in savings!” My previous savings — when they were actually SAVINGS (and weren’t equal to 100 grand by the way)– had to go towards future taxes owed; unexpected, mysterious bills, and ancient debts. Anyhow, when it comes to money matters, I simply cannot listen to my dad much anymore. It’s been thirty-five years or so since he’s had diddly-squat.
Money turns us into fools as well. The consumer culture that we are, we buy a lot of crap. And I mean crap. The kind of crap that makes us go “What the hell did I buy that Piece of Crap for anyhow?” We buy what we want rather than what we need. Those clever advertisers let us know that restaurant food is the only real food to eat; hard liquor can only be served at fancy clubs where everyone is on an ecstasy-and-liquid diet; cosmetics can make us all look like Scarlett Johansson; cell phone plans can bring broken families together, and so forth. Only when we’ve diddly-squat do we buy what we actually, really and truly need. If only everything that we really and truly need was worth diddly-squat right now (like gasoline, for one).
Finally, money turns us into snobs. Again, my dad is a prime example. I love him dearly, but honestly, he’s not going to accept it — whatever “it” is — unless it’s top quality. He’s in the midst of having his home completely remodeled right now, and there shall be only the best of everything in appliances and countertops. If he’s looking for carpeting, he probably won’t even glance at it unless a Berber is there on site with her sheep, ready to shear and weave on command. If he’s buying computer gear, he will scour hundreds of miles if he has to in order to find the nearest Apple Store. He enjoys truffles in his scrambled eggs and a lovely bottle of red for dinner every night. Yep, money gives people who have it the best, so when they’ve plenty of it, like my father, they expect absolutely nothing less than the very best.
When I do have money, and that’s a very rare thing, I try to assist those who don’t, or pay for things for the kindness they once showed me. Every so often, that’s where my money goes — in the hands of someone I love who really needs it (and I mean needs it) much more than I do at that moment. Lately, I’ve good karma on my side. It’s come back to me tenfold, and, for that, I am eternally grateful. People are often underestimated: they can be kind and can accept the notion that money is just that — money. The way it’s conceived of and used is what makes it a detriment to ourselves and to our relationships with one another.