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The founder of this thread suggested I contribute something I shared with him outside of this thread. It went a little something like this:
I'm not sure how to describe my background. My dad came from a very poor family--five kids sharing a bedroom, the whole shebang--and my mom came from an upper middle class family. As far as finances, my parents live comfortably but beyond their means. I'm still on their tab since they don't want me to live in the streets. But rich? No no no no no. Not rich.
I haven't been that close with many rich kids, with the exception of my best friend in college. Her immediate family wasn't really that rich, but her entire family had quite a legacy at the school she and I attended. The art building had her last name on it. She was an art student, too, which was a little amusing. It was kind of neat when we'd meet someone new--we never seemed to be without each other--and the person we met would say, "You're So-and-so? As in The So-and-So Art Center?"
A few boys I knew in high school were wealthy. One had a soda fountain in his basement! The other, whom I'd known since kindergarten, had the entire lower floor of his parents' mansion to himself. He had big swingin' parties there. They were fun, but I think he felt used sometimes. He wasn't a very open guy; he didn't talk about how he felt much. I could read him like a book, though, and I never understood how anyone else couldn't. He would say, "You always know how I'm feeling, J." I think maybe other people just didn't care that much about how he was feeling. Though he hung out with a crowd that I thought was crummy sometimes, he was a good guy.
There's this one family that my parents met through Amway in the 80s, and they used to be pretty wealthy, too. Although they had a big house and nice cars and everything, I don't remember ever really thinking about them being rich. I grew up with their son, and so I wasn't all that aware of the distinction. I do remember being incredibly jealous of all his toys, though. He had some great toys. The one I liked the best was this laser gun that had flashing lights in different colors and made electronic sounds. You may not be impressed, but that's all I could think about sometimes when I knew I'd get to come over.
My first real awareness of the difference between rich people and me was in high school. My sister seems to end up with rich guys. One summer I was her chaperone for a swim tournament in Michigan. Her boyfriend C was going to be there. After the meet one day, we went to the mall. I was amazed by how he spent money. He wasn't reckless, frivolous, or embarrassing. Shopping involves choices, but he made different choices than I could make. When I shopped, I'd think, "Okay, I have $25. I can buy one of these or I can buy two of these." And there were things out of my price range. When he shopped, his choices were based on what he wanted. Nothing was out of his price range. He went into stores that I'd always been too afraid to enter because I couldn't afford anything in them. The difference between us was that I was limited and he was not. I had never before seen anyone shop like that, so relaxed and free. I hadn't really imagined that anyone I could know would be able to shop like that. And I wasn't jealous. I wasn't upset. I was only awed. It was so entertaining. |
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