We live in an area that is a seasonal enclave for society’s upper echelons. As you know, I’ve had some terrific interactions with the older generation of the one percent, truly gracious people who like to laugh. You would recognize some of the names of the residents if I chose to drop them, which of course I would never do.
The younger generation is something quite different. They are slovenly. I do not exaggerate. I am describing people who are parents themselves. Parents who leave their babies’ used diapers to winter over in cars; adults who will not pick up after themselves; people who would rather sit in filth while they wait for someone else to clean up the mess around them. Thank Gawd, that’s not my job.
I’ll let you in on something else, money and good taste are not synonymous, not in the least. You wouldn’t believe some of the tacky tchotchkes, ordinary junk, stuff you’d expect to find in a dorm room rather than at a summer compound. But wait, there’s more.
Some of them, in some instances more than one generation of them, are being investigated by the SEC. Entire families, imagine! Call me naive but I just can’t imagine Dad, Grandad, and Biff being investigated at the very same time. It’s the pedigreed version of the Madoff scandal.
Privilege is just a word. Sometimes it’s a dirty word.