Periodically in idle moments (of which it seems I have too many sometimes) I wonder what life would be like if I were stinkin’ rich.
By rich I don’t mean lousy winning a few mil in the lottery rich, I mean (in the classic definition thereof) Stinkin’ Rich. You know, in the upper echelons of that wretched one percent that is seeking to destroy all that we cherish and to drive the rest of us to serfdom so they can shovel mammon into their gaping and always unsatiated maws.
That kind of rich.
The kind of rich that (and I just read about this) would enable a guest at a Beverly Hills hotel to fork out $9,500 for a single night’s stay. Man, the room service for that pricetag had better be a virtual bacchanal of hedonistic pleasure. The kind of rich in which I could own days-of-the-week Bentleys (you know, sort of like days-of-the-week panties, but in luxury cars).
Seriously, can you imagine what it would be like to have such wealth that it would be virtually impossible for you to spend what you have in one mere lifetime? You could go anywhere you wanted to go. You could buy anything your heart coveted. Aha, I hear you saying, but you can’t buy love. But, of course you can. You can buy a whole coterie of loving handmaidens or dudes, depending on your gender or proclivities. But that’s not ‘real’ love, one can protest. Well, perhaps if you are that rich you have become satisfied that real romantic love is for po’ folk, not for the likes of you who can buy all the love you want.
While most of us may worry about meeting a mortgage payment (if we are fortunate enough to have a mortgage), keeping the lights burning in the house, or sending the wretched and ungrateful kids through college, the uber-rich have none of those concerns.
If you were that rich whatever would you have to worry about?
Aha, I can hear you say (I can’t really, it’s kind of a metaphor), what about mortality?
Nobody is rich enough to buy eternal life.
At least, as far as we know. But who knows what kind of pacts these filthy-rich bastards make with the powers of the universe? Maybe you can buy your way in. They aren’t going to share such information with the likes of us, or we’d really lose all hope and wouldn’t continue working as peons for them.