I sit writing the day before new years. Bitter End Yacht club. Virgin Gorda. The British Virgin Islands. Playground of the rich and beautiful. We get to park our little Orion for next to nothing and wander in and mingle. Truly phenomenal displays of wealth. The white plastic gleams. The stainless is always shiny. The toys come out. The inflatable slide from the top deck. 3 jet ski’s on the back. Yacht pulling powerboat, pulling dinghy. Money pouring down the drains and away. Inconsequential it seems.
And why do I rant. There is a part of me that admires people that have done well in their lives, taken the money to do extravagant things with their families. Introduce their children to new countries. What is money for really anyways?
But here, today, something feels different about the extreme decadence and the seeming ignorance of anyone else around. Drive that dinghy full speed through the harbor. Don’t give a thought to the boats bouncing around in your wake. Let the nice man in the clean white shirt bring you your orange juice. Life is as it should be. There are masters, there are servants. The world has always been this way. Some own the plantations, and then there are slaves to do the ahem, work. In so very many cases there is no connection between the two. The rulers rule, the laborers sweat. Why question your place in the grand scheme when it’s on top. Off to the vacation where the water is blue, the toys many. Rub elbows with your people. Life is beautiful.
Today I’m surrounded by the 1 percent. I’m not impressed. For the 1st time in my life I am truly scared and sickened by our government and the people that are about to start running it. To me it’s always seemed relatively benign. I haven’t felt threatened. Me, personally, my world. White guy doing ok. And it seemed like things were essentially beyond my control anyways. Head down in the sand. My world was fine. Me, mine, me. No need for real worry. For Me.
I don’t feel that way today. At a deep down level, I feel like we are heading into a dark and frightening place. Maybe it’s gotten to the point where me and mine feel threatened. Is it the possibility of economic collapse? Or of my kids having to fight in a war because of an idiot pushing a button? My money, my security, my family. Too damn close to home. Me has expanded to my country. Took me long enough. And as I look inside at my barometer and take a reading my sense is that I am not alone. I feel a revolution coming on.