"A mere $500 million separated the two. In a billionaire's world, that is close."—Forbes Magazine editor-in-chief Steve Forbes, describing the financial photo-finish between traditionally filthy rich guy Bill Gates and the now even wealthier Carlos Slim, quoted in Barry Paddock, “America Loses Bragging Rights As Carlos Slim Tops Forbes’ Annual Ranking of World’s Billionaires,” The Daily News (New York), Thursday, March 11, 2010
One night, as an impressionable collegian, I visited a buddy of mine who was working for a wealthy man. While my friend and I were talking in the kitchen of his employer’s home, the man’s twentysomething daughter came in, laden with bags from her stop at a nearby upscale grocery.
After emptying various foodstuffs of staggering variety and plenitude, she turned one bag upside down. Out flew change from her trip. Only it wasn’t silver that spilled across the counter. It was more twenty- and fifty-dollar bills than I had ever seen anywhere (except for inside a bank) in my life.
I’m not sure what made my eyes bulge more: the sight of so many large bills (remember, this was more than 30 years ago) or the woman’s nonchalance at how she collected and disposed of the remainder of her grocery bill. You had the sense that if she misplaced one, two, or even three $50 bills, she’d never notice it.
This was my first concrete lesson in what F. Scott Fitzgerald meant by “The rich are different from you and me.”
I thought nothing could top that little episode in how the rich approach money until I read Steve Forbes’ quote above.
Mr. Forbes, maybe in your universe, $500 million comes to a “mere” amount. But it’s so far distant from my upbringing and current livelihood that I’d need a Mount Palomar telescope to glimpse it—and even then, I don’t know if I’d believe what I was seeing.
Oh, and another thing: For years, one of my friends has called Bill Gates “the anti-Christ.” Does this news item now mean that there are two anti-Christs? Is there enough room for all that money—not to mention the egos belonging to it all?
One night, as an impressionable collegian, I visited a buddy of mine who was working for a wealthy man. While my friend and I were talking in the kitchen of his employer’s home, the man’s twentysomething daughter came in, laden with bags from her stop at a nearby upscale grocery.
After emptying various foodstuffs of staggering variety and plenitude, she turned one bag upside down. Out flew change from her trip. Only it wasn’t silver that spilled across the counter. It was more twenty- and fifty-dollar bills than I had ever seen anywhere (except for inside a bank) in my life.
I’m not sure what made my eyes bulge more: the sight of so many large bills (remember, this was more than 30 years ago) or the woman’s nonchalance at how she collected and disposed of the remainder of her grocery bill. You had the sense that if she misplaced one, two, or even three $50 bills, she’d never notice it.
This was my first concrete lesson in what F. Scott Fitzgerald meant by “The rich are different from you and me.”
I thought nothing could top that little episode in how the rich approach money until I read Steve Forbes’ quote above.
Mr. Forbes, maybe in your universe, $500 million comes to a “mere” amount. But it’s so far distant from my upbringing and current livelihood that I’d need a Mount Palomar telescope to glimpse it—and even then, I don’t know if I’d believe what I was seeing.
Oh, and another thing: For years, one of my friends has called Bill Gates “the anti-Christ.” Does this news item now mean that there are two anti-Christs? Is there enough room for all that money—not to mention the egos belonging to it all?
