Son of Privilege

Just saw a CNBC interview with Michael Gates Gill the author of How Starbucks Saved My Life: A Son of Privilege Learns to Live Like Everyone Else.

What a pantload!

Son of privilege is right.

Son of Brendan Gill, New Yorker critic and columnist, he grew up in a Bronxville mansion with regular guests like John and Jackie Kennedy, Ernest Hemingway, John Updike and Brendan Behan showing up for tea and crumpets and Chivas Regal. His life story is a prototype blueprint illustrating how birth privilege provides a safety net for all manner of irresponsible behavior.

Drop out of college... not a problem when your frat buddy can get you a job at his Daddy's Madison Avenue advertising agency.

Marry, divorce... have an affair... marry divorce... have an affair... father more children... Hey, just brush it off with trust-funds, inherited money and a six-figure salary from advertising giant J. Walter Thompson.

Then, when you run out of great ideas like "Plop, plop. Fizz, fizz." and they toss you out on your butt, just use friends and family to fund a vanity consulting business. Go bust? Well, it wasn't your money anyway.

Then what? No more money, nobody left to borrow from, no job prospects and no wife.

Ever wonder why a young woman would be attracted to a pasty-faced, balding, pot bellied has been? Duh... he's rich.

Not rich anymore? Not married anymore either.

So this modern day Siddhartha, who had never taken a subway ride until forced into it by penury, had a revelation while rubbing up against the unwashed:

Eureka! Simplicity is key to happiness!

Now that his sob-story memoir has become a best seller, soon to be a major motion picture starring Tom Hanks, his advice for America is simplify your life, reduce your overhead and live the life of a modern-day Thoreau.

Great idea, Einstein.

Why didn't the rest of us think of that?

Tell a young family that runs out of money on Wednesday and has to wait until payday on Friday to buy groceries that they should lower their overhead and live simply. If you live in a 25-room mansion, like Mr. Gill once did, it's easy to scale back. For the rest of us it's hang on for dear life and ride out the storm.

My father worked in a sweatshop, when he wasn't on layoff. We ate plenty of spaghetti for dinner. Then I got to college on the Upper East Side of Manhattan and discovered that all those "Sons and Daughters of Privilege" who all grew up without a care believed in the nobility of poverty. They actually envied those of us who had nothing and didn't hesitate to tell their therapists and anyone else who would listen.
Let them try it for a day or two.

This morning I started writing a book entitled...

"How Having Plenty of Money Saved My Life: A Son of The Working Class Learns to Live Like a Child of Privilege."

What are the chances that Tom Hanks will give me a $50,000 advance for the rights?

Excuse me while I go plunge my hands into boiling water and wait for Mr. Hanks' people to text message my people.

Uh, oh... L'il Angel--my 15 year old daughter--just yelled out that she's ready to be chaufered off to school. On the way I'll ask her what she thinks of switching over to the simple life.

"Live like everybody else, Dad? We already live like everybody else."

I guess the romantic view of everybody else is a little bit different from up on that perch in Westchester.

Munchausen By Proxy, Washington Style

By the time she was 8 years old, J.B. had been hospitalized 200 times and had undergone more than 40 operations, including the removal of most of her intestines.

K.C., a 2-year-old boy, was hospitalized more than 20 times due to complications from asthma, severe pneumonia, mysterious infections, and sudden fevers. His doctors were baffled and unable to determine the cause of these illnesses.

Productive Americans who work hard, play by the rules, pay their bills and live within their means have lost nearly half of their net worth in 2008. Politicians scramble to stop the bleeding, but nothing they do seems to help.

What do these seemingly unrelated cases have in common? They were all the result of Munchausen by proxy syndrome.

This relatively uncommon condition involves the fabrication of illnesses or symptoms by a primary caretaker. One of the most harmful forms of child abuse, Munchausen by proxy syndrome was named after Baron von Munchausen, an eighteenth-century German dignitary known for telling outlandish stories.

J.B.'s medical history was traced to her mother, who manufactured her daughter's illnesses. Similarly, when K.C. was thought to have AIDS, he eventually complained to his mother's friend that his thigh was sore because "Mommy gave me shots" (indicating that the mother was giving her son something to cause his symptoms).

In the case of the American economy, Washington politicians caused the disease through legislation (Community Reinvestment Act) and executive order.

Through these actions they, along with their hired extortionists like ACORN, coerced lending institutions into making loans to clients who did not have the ability nor the willingness to pay them back.

Many of them took huge campaign contributions from lenders like CountryWide and Fannie Mae. Fannie Mae, in fact, became a dumping ground for government cronies who made tens of millions at the same time they were producing phantom profits from loans they knew would never be paid back. Franklin Raines, former CEO of Fannie Mae, ascended to his high office after several years in government service advising that other famed real estate guru, William Jefferson Clinton.

Comrade Raines took salaries and bonuses totaling more than $90 million during his short stay at Fannie, but shows no willingness to pay back any of it.

Now that the financial mess has reached crisis proportion, these same psychopaths claim they are the only ones qualified to solve the problem.

Often Munchausen perpetrators give themselves away with subtle verbal clues or attempts to shift blame.

Rahm Emmanuel's recent statement that Democrats should "never let a crisis go to waste" is one example.

Harry Reid's demand that Detroit executives need to submit a detailed plan before "we show them the money" is another.

These geniuses have been running their industry into the ground for five decades, but the esteemed Senator wants a turnaround plan in two weeks.

I've got an idea. Since I'm an independent contractor and file estimated taxes, instead of a tax check I'll send a polite note informing Senator Reid that he must submit a detailed plan to retire the national debt before I "SHOW HIM MY MONEY."

Anyone care to join me?

In Munchausen by proxy syndrome, an individual deliberately makes another person sick then misleads others into thinking that the child has medical problems by lying and reporting fictitious episodes. He or she may exaggerate, fabricate, or induce symptoms. As a result, doctors usually order tests, try different types of medications, and may even hospitalize the child or perform surgery to determine the cause. Sound familiar?

Typically, the perpetrator feels satisfied by gaining the attention and sympathy of doctors, nurses, and others who come into contact with him or her and the child. Some experts believe that it isn't just the attention that's gained from the "illness" of the child that drives this behavior, but also the satisfaction in being able to deceive others. Remind you of anyone?

Because the caregiver appears to be so caring and attentive, often no one suspects any wrongdoing.

Most often, abusive Munchausen by proxy syndrome cases are resolved in one of three ways:

The perpetrator is apprehended.

The perpetrator moves on to a younger child when the original victim gets old enough to "tell" on them.

The child dies.

To get help, the caregiver must admit to the abuse and seek psychological treatment. But if the perpetrator doesn't admit to the wrongdoing, psychological treatment has little chance of remedying the situation.

Psychotherapy depends on truth, and Munchausen by proxy perpetrators generally live in denial.

Now the questions remains: Will those of us who work hard, pay our bills and play by the rules continue to drop our pants and invite the syringe every time Pelosi, Frank, Reid, et. al. declare a crisis that only they can solve?

With thanks and apologies to Kidshealth.org

Getting on With Life

John McCain's choice for Vice President has inspired some very interesting comments from the left-wing blogosphere:

i'm outraged that mclame piked a chearleeder

Well... actually... she was point guard for her high school basketball team and hit the winning free throw that clinched Alaska Small School State Championship.

another big oil stooge

Well... actually... she raised state royalties on oil drillers and gave every Alaskan a $1,200 energy credit from the proceeds. I understand that to the current crop of Neo-Socialists, tax credits that provide direct cash are anathema. After all, it's the responsibility of the state to confiscate earnings and profits then provide "services" designed to dictate behavior and promote a utopian society--while providing huge monetary gains for state-supported cronies. This is the culture of corruption in Alaska politics that Governor Palin was elected to combat, and did. Any comments from Mr. Obama--an extortionist for ACORN as well as willing accomplice to the Chicago corruption cartel--would be greatly appreciated.

once again an attractive woman gets picked ahaed of qualified women

This one is especially amusing. First, because it suggests that a woman with nearly a decade of executive experience is less qualified for Veep than a man with barely three years in the Senate and not a single legislative achievement on his resume is for President.

And second, because this feminist tactic confirms Rush Limbaugh's contention that:

"Feminism was created to allow unattractive women access to the mainstream media."

Okay, here we are. Many comments, very few surprises--until this little gem after it was made known that Governor Palin has a four-month-old child with Down's Syndrome.

she should have had an abortion and gone on with her life.

An isolated kook, right. Wait, there's more.

any woman who would give birth to a down sindrome baby isn't smart enough to hol office

she should quit her job, stay home and take care of her family; what's she doing having five kids anyway

Yes, I do agree with population control, and would want it guaranteed by
mandatory sterilization after one-half a live birth per person. Both people involved get the knife. And any guy who gets more than one woman pregnant at a time loses his nuts.

These vitriolic blatherings should not have come as a surprise. As I was reading these thoughtful postings my "Horrid Comment" memory chip kicked into gear. Years ago when an acquaintance from work gave birth to a Down's Syndrome child a highly-evolved colleague suggested that she should: "Leave the kid at the hospital."

Some turned away while others nodded.

And in fairness, even on the Leftoid message boards there were expressions of disgust from many posters. But that didn't keep the whackos from posting on.


I think it is dumb to have a kid that you know will be born all messed up. Period.

Actually, Trig's biggest problem isn't that he has Down's Syndrome it's that he has a repuke for a Mom.

Granted, as an adoptive father I'm biased. When our son was born, the inseminator (referred to euphemistically as the birth father) believed that his responsibility ended with an offer to pay for an abortion.

Our daughter was born three years later and our legal liaison relayed the same story.

But then, when I proudly showed her picture to a group of professional associates at an Upper West Side cocktail party I was left speechless (not easy) by a comment from a complete stranger who proclaimed with an unassailable aura of authority that:

"Foreign adoptions are a conspiracy to depopulate the Third World."

As I said, none of this should surprise me.

Staring at the Ceiling Fan

I'm sullen, confused, depressed. My normally cheerful outlook on life has been dragged through the depths of despair. All of the poisons that have lurked in the mud for millenia... well... never mind.

Every once in awhile I see, hear or read something that makes me want to go straight to the nearest cliff and throw myself to the mercy of gravity.

That was my reaction recently when I happened upon this essay written by a young gentleman, Ken Ilgunas, from Niagara Falls and published in the Buffalo News. The whining ruminations of Mr. Ilgunas are reproduced below in Bolshevic red.

I am 24, live with my parents, can’t find work and am floundering in a sea of debt five figures high. I think of myself as ambitious, independent and hardworking. Now I’m dependent, unemployed and sleeping under the same Super Mario ceiling fan that I did when I was 7.

How did this happen? I did what every upstanding citizen is supposed to do. I went to college. I took out loans so I could enroll at Alfred University, a pricey private school. The next year, I transferred to the more finance-friendly University at Buffalo, where I could commute from home and push carts part-time at Home Depot.

I related my forthcoming debt to puberty or a midlife crisis — each an unavoidable nuisance; tickets required upon admission to the next stage of adulthood. But as interest rates climbed and the cost of tuition, books and daily living mounted to galactic proportions,

I realized this was more than some paltry inconvenience.

Upon graduating, I was helplessly launched headfirst into the “real world,” equipped with a degree in history and $32,000 in student loans. Before ricocheting back home, I would learn two important lessons: 1) There are no well-paying — let alone paying — jobs for history majors. 2) The real world is really tough.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and I had no intention of living in a society that was as unfair as this one. To seek a haven devoid of the ruthless 9-to-5 ebb and flow of contemporary America, I moved to Alaska.

As a liberal arts major, I dreamed of making a profound difference in people’s lives. Instead, for a year, I lived in Coldfoot, a town north of the Arctic Circle that resembles a Soviet Gulag camp. My job as a tour guide for visitors temporarily alleviated my money woes because it provided room and board, but when the season ended and I moved back home, I was again confronted with the grim realities of debt.

Desperate, I browsed through insurance and bank job descriptions. I had hit an all-time low. Could I surrender my soul for health coverage and a steady income? Could I sacrifice my ideals by falling into line?

Suddenly, living at home didn’t seem nearly as degrading as selling out. But sadly, other graduates don’t have any choice but to work for temp agencies and retail stores to eke by.

That’s the tragedy of student debt: it doesn’t just limit what we do, but who we become. Forget volunteering. Forget traveling. Forget trying to improve your country, or yourself. You’ve got bills to pay, young man.

Unfortunately, the recent passage of the College Cost Reduction and Access Act doesn’t portend that times are a-changin’. The act reduces interest rates on Stafford Loans and increases Pell Grant awards. Whoopty-do.

There’s no question that this is a step forward. But we’re still talking pennies and nickels when we need to completely revolutionize the government’s role in financing post-secondary education.

College is a wonderful experience and something every young citizen should pursue. But without help, a college education is becoming an unaffordable rite of passage and a privilege of the affluent.

My loan payments can’t wait much longer, and soon I must leave home to find work that doesn’t compromise my integrity. Although I sometimes wonder what it would be like if I had declared as an accounting major and got a cushy job punching numbers somewhere, I’ll take my history major, my debt and my mom’s cooking any day of the week.

Being a heartless windbag I'm probably the last person who should be commenting on this doofus' ramblings, but I can't help myself.

HEY MR. ILGUNAS... A COLLEGE DEGREE DOES NOT GUARANTEE A LIFETIME OF COMFORTABLE, RESPONSIBILITY-FREE ADOLESCENCE!

Wanna travel? Get a job.

Wanna help your fellow man? Earn your own way and set a good example.

Wanna get out of the basement?

Stand on your own two feet and quit the whining and self pity.

America's future? I hope not.

New York Governor Averts Panic

The horrifying images are in. The killer shark that's been terrorizing aquatic adventurers on Long Island has been vanquished. A team of marine rescue specialists, dispatched by Governor David Patterson who declared a state of emergency from Montauk to Lake Champlain, descended upon Zach's Bay and captured the man eater before disaster ensued.

EMS technicians arrived at the scene to treat panic-stricken bathers. Women screamed, children fainted, grown men cried in anguish at the sight of the monster.

Maria, a 37 year old mother from Flushing, was treated for "The Vapors" and described the horror experienced by everyone who witnessed the near carnage.

"For the rest of my life, everytime I take a drink of water or step into the shower I'll be haunted by the grisly images of what might have been."

Marine biologists, unsure of what to do with the pelagic carnivore, decided to give it to Rip Curant--a Jones Beach lifeguard who has a 110 gallon marine aquarium in his bedroom.

Rip is seen here, taking his new pet out for a walk.

Forever Young

It was an inspiring evening. A very close friend and colleague invited a few intimate buddies to his 80th birthday at Tavern on the Green in Central Park. More than 300 people packed the main banquet room. He has been a great mentor to me, a pioneer in the art of television lighting.

Literally a pioneer

That term is bandied about, but when Immie started there was no such thing as TV lighting. He was trained in theater, so when he was hired on at ABC in 1950 he told his new boss that he knew nothing about TV lighting. His boss told him not to worry, nobody does.

"How will I know if what I do is right," he asked.

"If it looks good, remember how you did it."

Good advice all around.

When I started in TV as a technician (1974) Immie was already a legendary figure. The first time I encountered him in the studio I was too awestruck to approach. Then, years later after I became a writer, I got a call to work on a corporate documentary:

"This is Imero Fiorentino Associates, would you please hold for Mr. Fiorentino?"

My heart stopped.

Over the years I have been very blessed. At every turn there have been bright, creative and caring people who were more than willing to put a hand on my shoulder and guide me through the rough spots. None more creative and caring than Immie. Following his example I've also tried to return the favor to those young people entering our industry.

At the end of the evening he jumped up to the podium to thank everyone for being part of his life and to invite us all to be a part of the rest of his life.

Never a thought of retiring.

Never a thought of slowing down.

At 80 he's looking forward to more challenges and more victories.

The renowned glass artist, Josh Simpson, once said that an artist must find his comfort zone and then spend the rest of his life staying out of it.

Through the quiet eloquence of his sterling example Immie has shown all who have been blessed to know him that staying out of our comfort zone is more than a slogan, it's a way of life.

Pre-Teens in Combat

In a dramatic report, the New York Times has uncovered a conspiracy by the United States military to conscript children.

Posing as male nannies, bow-tied Republicans wisk away infants as their single mothers pursue their dreams in exciting careers away from the drudgery of traditional home-based chores. They then force these babies into combat zones and cover up their misdeeds with the complicity of the right-wing hate media.

This conspiracy came to light in today's Times. Buried deep inside a front page story detailing how George W. Bush has personally foreclosed on millions of American homeowners in order to give their houses to Halliburton stockholders, the Times printed this seemingly innocent quote:

"Steve Allen, 51, a Vietnam veteran in Seattle, was repeatedly rejected when he and his wife, Lesa, started searching for an apartment this month. Some apartment managers said no because they had lost their home to foreclosure. Others said their credit scores were too low."

If the New York Times reporter had a calculator handy, she could have quickly determined that Mr. Allen, born in April of 1957, would have been 15 years old at the time of the Paris Peace Accords of January, 1973.

Democrats were quick to cite this disclosure as evidence of a larger, ongoing conspiracy.

"This is typical of this administration's continued effort to distort, misleed and dissemble" said Democratic presidential hopeful Barack Obama.

Harry Reid added that his office will look into the recent rash of child abductions. "There is nothing this adminstration won't do to advance their war strategy, including kidnapping" said the Senate Majority Leader.

Eli Pariser of Moveon.org commented that this disclosure reinforces the Moveon/AFSCME message seen recently in their "Not Alex" TV commercial. "If you think that these Neo-Fascists won't kidnap your children and train them to fight in secret wars, think again" said Mr. Pariser as he was leaving his aroma therapy session.

Quick to respond, the far-right hate cult Swiftboat Veterans for Truth issued a press release. "We have polled thousands of American veterans who served in Vietnam between 1965 and 1973. Not one had ever reported seeing American children in combat."

Senator John Forbes Kerry, however, differed. "I remember this clearly. It is seared into my brain. During Christmas of 1944 I was windsurfing toward Bastogne when I came upon a battalion of American snowboarders. They couldn't have been more than eleven years old."

In a related development, Barack Obama has reported to close advisors that he has been experiencing symptoms of post-traumatic stress syndrome.

According to campaign chief David Axelrod, the senator has been having recurring hallucinations where he sees himself, as a child, using a flamethrower against civilians living in grass huts.

"We are looking into a two-year gap in the senator's personal history. We can't seem to account for the years 1970-1971. This has an ominous feel to it."

"Barack would have been eight years old at the time," added Michelle Obama, "the perfect age for the Republican abduction squads. After all, Steve Allen was eight when they sent him to Viet Nam in 1965. Do the math whitey!"