Stairway to Heaven

October 7th, 2007

This weekend I was out where the hyper-rich live for a food and wine evening at a hyper-exclusive clubhouse on Kiawah Island outside Charleston. My invitation was a fluke, but I got to meet a famous chef and eat a few appetizers and thank my lucky stars that I didn’t have to live there, and all in all, it was an okay night. The best part though, was walking back to the car along a pitch dark drive under a sky jam-packed with stars. More damn stars than I get in my neighborhood with its crime-busting streetlights and no security guards, which caused a momentary twinge of envy, but then I let myself lean back, look up, and go swimming in the Milky Way for a few seconds. The rich have to live such constrained lives behind their gates that I know I should be thankful I’m not one of them and not begrudge them the stars for consolation.

One Response to “Stairway to Heaven”

  1. andrew says:

    i am not feeling like the saint today, but your weekend sounds better than mine. going to the dump and having a pseudofriend treat my kindness as weakness has left a smell on my clothes and in my neurons.

    i wonder if they get away with that bs with their real friends? ahhh the hyper-rich. seriously the real difference is that they seem to be so organized at home — . It always seems to look like the inside of the Banana Republic in Chicago. Clean, clean and full of nice clean stuff oh and good music.

    Do they pay for the illusion? Or do they just have enough time to indulge it.

    Don’t get me wrong – funny, capable, and not too atrocious — i can pull off the good music, the art appreciation, and occas. my clothes — but i can never find the time to do it all at once and work and go to the dump and get pissed on. do i need mor e money or more time? St. A