My Momma tole me

Did anyone else learn that it is absolutely distasteful and crass, dare I say it, even nouveau riche, to discuss how much money someone makes? Especially someone you know?

My boss subscribes to this magazine - it makes him feel good because it is all about the position he wants - that of his own boss.

He spent 30 minutes sitting in my cubie today, reading the cover article aloud - "The Millionaires". Basically a run through of the top paid people in that particular position. Exclaims, loudly, over the notation of his own bosses salary (#48 of 198) and says, over and over and over

"That's a fuc& load of money...That's a fuc& load of money....Think about how much money that is..."

I "pish posh"ed him, which seems to irritate him a bit.

"I had no idea you were so well off."

I walked off. In my head, I was mentally fuming. Over the embarassment of having to be subjected to that kind of base envy. Over the embarassment that he is so loud everyone on my wing can hear everything he says. Over the absolute idiocy of a man who still carries that kind of schoolkid like wishfulness - like 13 year old girls reading Cosmo, wishing they were Gisele so they could bang Leo.

No, I don't have any money. Somehow the perverse experience of being surrounded by millionaires, even billionaires, for the formative years of your youth, when your own family is embarassingly upper middle class...that is enough to drive the desire of money out of your soul for life. Sure, I think about how I am broke all of the time. Lately, I have been having panic attacks about it in my sleep. Yes, I admit that I feel a hidden sense of jealousy that I can't afford the things I want - only the things my family needs. I was scoping out wedding dresses the other day in "Bride" and was ashamed to find that I had visually picked out the most expensive dress ad in the book - a 9K Vera Wang job.

When you become so envious of others that you actually begin to hate your self, your origins, you give up that lust. I often think it was some kind of fairyland to grow up where I did...I spent most of my time at my best friend's house. Her Father owned a chain of Cadillac dealerships in the Bay Area. She always had the most amazing food in her cupboards, and her mom gave her the Visa to go to the mall...she was 12 for chrissakes.

I'm not envious. More saddened and disheartened by those who still are. Because you have to admit, in the grand scheme of life (and in the East Bay) a $700 K gross yearly income is not spectacular. Your love for the human family is spectacular. Your wish to be good to others. Your wish that others do well, and succeed.