The Curse of Money
Is money a curse? No, I don’t think so. If anything, I think that having money makes life easier. The poor look at us, the rich, and see wealth as a burden--more decisions, more land, more obligations. But, what the poor don’t know is that we enjoy the challenge.
The poor labor what? Thirteen, fourteen hours a day, scrubbing toilets and building clothes? And, what do they earn per day--fourteen, fifteen thousand dollars? My god, can you imagine? The interest alone on my fortune earns that in … now.
And, yet it is the poor who pity us. They look up at us in our ivory towers and must think it so lonely. First off, anyone building their towers out of ivory hasn't heard that this season is alabaster. Secondly, I could never be lonely. I have my tiny purebred dogs and my collection of Napoleon’s finger bones. And, of course, my unseen staff.
Still, the unwashed masses look at us and feel sorry for our hectic social schedules. I don’t think of croquet or yachting as chores. I think of them as simply another aspect of daily life, right next to having someone brush your teeth. And, if I didn’t escape from the grounds every now and then, I might go mad. Uncle Rupert certainly could have used a few moments away from the swan pond.
But, no, I wouldn’t give up my money if I had the choice. Because, I don’t think of it as a curse so much as a blessing. In fact, to anyone who thinks differently, I say spend a day in my dodo skin moccasins. I think you’ll find then incredibly comfortable. And, when you’re finished, please throw them out. I don’t wear shoes more than once.
