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Back in January, Mitt Romney was asked on the “Today Show” if he stands by his previous statement, that anyone questioning inequality in America and misconduct on Wall Street is envious of the rich.
He repeated that if they do that, “it’s about envy.” He later said that discussions about inequality in our society are “very envy-oriented.”
Well, Mitt, I believe that inequality is destructive to our society. And I don’t have an envious bone in my body. I have a great wife, great dog, great little house, great little car, great kids, great grandchildren. (no, that should be “wonderful” grandchildren). I’m a contented man. Oh, I might have a reaction to somebody’s 1955 Thunderbird convertible, but it’s more “How cool” than “I wish I had it.”
When I was in business, I spent time with some of these people I’m supposed to envy, mostly CEOs of client companies. And I can only think of a couple that I’d want to spend an evening with. While they were looking down on me, I was sizing them up as people.Once I was in the room with two CEOs during a break and heard them one-upping each other on Gulfstream jets. I left the room before I puked. I had a few tell me with a chuckle about illegal or unethical tricks they’d pulled, like I was the family dog who wouldn’t understand. An exception certainly was the time I traveled with Stanley Marcus (of Neiman Marcus). A total delight.
Let me define the people I’m talking about. These aren’t your penny-ante millionaires. They aren’t professionals. Many rich lawyers have happily crossed my path, and there are a few medical doctors I’d like to know better. (Doctors’ arrogance is usually professional, I’ve found, not personal.) The people I’m talking about are the super-rich. We’ve had a glimpse into their world through Romney and his five houses and his wife’s two Cadillacs. In dramas like PBS’ Downton Abbey, I think most Americans never quite understand the class structure─particularly how the underclasses know and keep their place. I’d have made a terrible peasant.
The super-rich belong to another time, like when John D. Rockefeller, J. P. Morgan, Andrew Carnegie, Philip Armour, Jay Gould, and James Mellon paid someone else to go fight the Civil War in their places. Mellon’s father wrote to him that “a man may be a patriot without risking his own life or sacrificing his health. There are plenty of lives less valuable.”
The super-rich are the French nobility in 11th century England. We’re the Anglo-Saxon serfs. Serfs back then used the English word “pig”; the nobility used “pork” from French. That is, one class raised the animal; the other class ate the meat. We don’t figure in their world, even if their activities impact us vitally.
If they would stay on their estates and yachts, none of us would have a quarrel with them. Do you Jay Gatsby thing, dude. But they don’t. They intrude. As you read this, they’re buying the 2012 election. In Wisconsin, only 7 percent of Governor Scott Walker’s funding in his recall battle comes from Wisconsin. Most of the rest comes from billionaires in Texas and New York. As our May 8 primary approaches, you’ll see TV ads from “Restore Our Future”─ads that de-restore Rick Santorum─and you’ll wonder, Who is Restore Our Future? Search “restore our future contributors” on Google and find out. Look down the 10 pages at how much these donors gave and what companies they represent, and ask yourself, “Hmmm, what might these people expect in return from President Romney?” And in the fall, when you see “American Crossroads” on an ad, remember that 98 percent of Crossroads contributors are billionaires. (President Obama has a super-PAC, but it’s piddling compared to these super-funds.)
Let’s put things in perspective and look closely at one of these super-rich. Robert Rowling, owner of the Omni hotel chain, is worth $4.7 billion. He gave $2.5 million to American Crossroads in 2010. That’s five-one-hundreths of one percent of his net worth.
Now let’s suppose that you, the reader, have a stash worth $100,000. A contribution you’d make that would be comparable to Rowling’s would be…fifty bucks. Contributing a few mil doesn’t make a blip on his bank statement ─ but it can sway an election. That’s what’s going on. They give what is to them chump change in order to make it easier for them to make more after the election.
Who do these people think they are ─ giving millions to political candidates who will favor them with low tax rates, trying to buy elections so they can play their high-finance games without interference from us Anglo-Saxons serfs (that is, government regulation)?
Who do they think they are ─ taking all they can for themselves without regard to how their risk-taking impacts us all, even pushing an ideological agenda against assistance to the poor? Who do they think they are? Well, they think they’re the nobility, the masters of our future. And they could just be right.
No, Mr. Romney, I don’t envy these people. They make me angry. And I’m going to do my best this year to see they don’t succeed. This Angle-Saxon swings a mean vote, and it will be against you and the birds that flock with you.
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Lee Ballard lives in Mars Hill.
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