I have spoken a little of the rich before– and I can’t add too much substantively, but maybe something atmospherically…..
I’m a slave, of sorts- I live in fear, as many of you probably do- but I’ve seen things………….
Rich people certainly have their troubles, such as the hedonic limit I talked about, but mostly they are not, as far as I can tell, troubled. They live peacefully, in a cocoon.
The South is, to Hunter Wallace, an occupied territory suffering outrageous indignities. But rich people in the South are if anything more comfortable than rich people in the North, maybe because their money comes from land and commodities and less from hustling and dealing. Charleston has lots of comfortable rich people, including it seems to me a lot of rich Southern hippies.
And yet for all the ease and comfort, it’s not that great being a rich person. Their food is funny. I once got invited to dinner with some rich people, and they all agreed the soup was wonderful because it was creamy, but not too creamy. I tasted a bit, and it was about three times more creamy than anything I had ever eaten in my life. Rich people seem to equate good flavor with high fat content, so high end cooking seems to consist of trying to make things as creamy or buttery as possible.
A rich person’s steak isn’t as good as Outback, which isn’t as good as In-N-Out. But part of the reason I love In-N-Out is I don’t eat there very often, if I did I would get tired of it.
In the opening of “Moby Dick” Melville talks about the pleasure of sleeping in a cold room, and the enjoyment comes from the contrast from being warm under the covers versus the cold room. He says a man who can afford a fire in his room actually doesn’t feel as good, because he doesn’t have the contrast.
The rich spend their lives in a lukewarm bath of nice things, and they don’t have the highs and lows that we do. The lukewarm bath is kept just so by lots and lots of money, but who knows how long the money will last.