Show Me the Money

Every once in a while, I purchase a copy of Worth Magazine. Okay, I read it in the tub and then recycle the magazine. Last month's Worth, or perhaps this month's, had an article on pet care. It talked about the average amount of money a certain segment of the population spends on pet care.

Now, I cannot remember the particulars of the article, but they were giving examples of what people spend on their pets. Pets with real gems in their collars, purchasing seats for them when taking them on vacations, all sorts of expenses. And at the end of the article, they mentioned inheritances. The people in the article, and the stats that were listed, were generated from Worth subscribers.

Okay, the magazine only costs a few dollars to purchase, and I will admit I read it, on occasion to see how the other half lives. Okay, I see how the top 3% lives. To give you an example of some of the other articles in the paper, there was an article on how to purchase a helicopter. It talked about what the purchase price range would be, what it costs to maintain the transportation, and how long you are likely to own the same helicopter. Oh, and if you have to ask how much a helicopter costs, I would guess you are not a candidate for this type of transportation. Besides the initial cost (200K+ for one of the more affordable models), you have to spend $20K every 100 or so flight hours to completely overhaul the engine. And since these things have many more moving parts than airplanes, after about two years, you ought to purchase a new one – because maintenance gets much more expensive.

And there are articles about setting up trusts, golf ball collecting, antique safes and where to purchase them. You know, the normal-type articles. Er, yeah.

I remember shopping in a very expensive neighborhood – I did not know anyone in the neighborhood, but we were passing through and needed a few things. Everybody seemed nice. They seemed happy. I have always heard that money can't buy happiness, and I sort of believe it. Remember Elvis? To Elvis, happiness was a peanut butter and banana sandwich – hey, I can afford those. Okay, maybe I can't afford the carbohydrates, but you get my drift. Still, rich people seem somewhat happy. Well, when they are not in detox, or when they are not being indicted for stock fraud. Or when they are not being arrested for propositioning an undercover cop in a bathroom stall.

Coming full circle, I don't care how rich people spend their money on their pets. It is a little bit sad that they will leave their pets more in their wills than anyone will ever leave me (darned, that Bill Gates, all holier than though about not wanting to get me pregnant). But I mean, 12 Million to the family dog – if you have a billion dollars, may not be a big deal. Personally, if I were rich, I would leave a sizable chunk of change to my favorite blogger. You know, fund the arts. A blogger who writes both pithy essays and erotic stories, someone who lives on the East Coast. Someone with real world experience. Just saying – and I would even wear a ruby studded cat collar. Just saying.