Getting Back To Normal In The Abnormal World Of The Super Rich!

It's been a long while since I last posted and I'm not quite sure how to get started again. Or even where to begin. But as the COVID panic slowly begins to subside and things are starting to open back up, hope and excitement are coming back into play - somewhat obscuring the utter shock we were in when the sky came crashing down last year.

While it all might seem like a blur at this point, nonetheless practically overnight the whole world just shut down, didn't it? Everything stopped, but everything! Social engagements came to a screeching halt and we suddenly found ourselves isolated in our own homes and apartments. The airlines shut down, schools closed, restaurants, bars, gyms, movie theaters, even city parks all closed. And running daily errands came to a frustrating crawl since gasoline stations began to run low on fuel, and nothing was open anyway.

The virus and shutdown had no socio-economic boundaries of course, meaning the rich and super rich were hit as unexpectedly as everyone else, even the poorest of the poor. Looking back a year later, it can almost be thought of as comical. Like the very first episode of Schitt's Creek wherein an unlucky rich family went bankrupt. Not only were they unceremoniously plucked out of their luxury mansion, but then they were plunked down at a cheap two-room motel in a cheesy little town called Schitt's Creek. 

But it really wasn't funny at all, was it? With almost everything else closed, at least the grocery stores struggled to stay open.Who could ever have imagined that going to the supermarket would be the social highlight of the day? But then after standing in long lines, the shelves were mostly empty once we got inside. Basic staples like bread, milk, pasta, canned meats, tuna, baby food and cereal - all gone! And no tissues, paper towels or toilet paper whatsoever. 

Mercifully at this house where I work, and like most rich families, we have what's referred to as a "Perpetual Pantry" that's well stocked with all kinds of basic food and household supplies. Dried beans, rice, flour, sugar, salt, powdered milk, canned meats, fish and vegetables, candles, batteries, and big bundles of paper products from Costco - which carried us through the worst part. Some rich people fled to their yachts or private islands, only to run into the same problem with food running out and stores in the ports were either closed or empty. 

Most people, of course, were not so lucky in having a well-stocked pantry or a private island, I know that. It was shocking and so heartbreaking to see news reports of thousands of people lined up for food and water. Which was when I started to contribute to local food banks and convinced the Mister to do the same. He has a long list of charities he contributes to on an ongoing basis, but I'm happy to tell you that he dumped a chunk of money into area food banks - which I hope will continue down the road.      

There for a while we thought we had lost Dame Covington. She had already been in the hospital with double pneumonia for over a week. Then she was finally discharged, with nurse's aides coming to her home twice a day. However in no time at all she was back in the hospital, apparently contracting the COVID virus from one of the aides! At her age and in her already-weakened condition (and in spite of all of our prayers) none of us really expected her to live. But she's a strong old bird and live she did, slowly now regaining her strength and vigor. 

When the new vaccines came along, it seemed like a miracle to think we could suddenly become immune to a murderous virus that had killed millions across the globe. My employer, who doesn't even get annual flu shots, was reluctant at first. But his new nutty girlfriend (who can be surprisingly rational at times) convinced him that future European travel might depend upon a vaccine passport. While that has not yet come to pass, it was enough to convince him at the time. In any case, all of us here - the Mister, the girlfriend, the house staff, the groundskeepers and I  have received our two doses and feeling good about it. Soon we'll be hosting our first fully-catered cocktail event, complete with a small chamber orchestra and Dame Covington is definitely on the guest list, even if I have to pick her up myself. So it appears we're slowly getting back to normal in the abnormal world of the super rich.

With over six-hundred-thousand of our friends and loved ones in the United States alone dying from the virus, as well as the near-universal economic devastation, I doubt that any of us have gotten through this ordeal completely unscathed. If you're still reading this blog after this long dreadful nightmare, I do sincerely appreciate it and hope that healing, recovery and a brighter future is ahead for all of us.

As always, thanks for stopping by tonight,

Andrew

 

January Blues 2020!

Not unlike a dreaded postpartum depression, it happens every year around here after all the hullabaloo of the holidays has passed and the winter blues set in. All that excitement about gift shopping, decorating, cocktail parties, fund raisers, galas and formal sit-down dinners for family and friends gives way to absolute idleness and bickering until the Spring Social Season starts to wind up. Unless of course you're a winter sports aficionado, in which case this is your favorite time of year on the ski slopes of Aspen or Zermatt with all the après ski parties each evening into the wee hours of the morning..

There's still a couple of deep-winter perks to come: Super Bowl Sunday on February 2 can in some circles require caterers, bartenders, valet parkers, perhaps even outdoor tents with big-screen audio-visual techs on hand. Plus the Academy Awards on February 9 can often be a time for high fashion dress up parties, whether in a private home or especially if viewing from a private club or a luxury hotel ballroom. Not forgetting that many of the rich and super rich will be attending the event itself at the Dolby Theater in Hollywood.

Then of course Valentine's Day on February 14 always creates a hubbub among the rich. Like, what to do? What to get for your most beloved, which might even be your wife? A new car? A new plane? A luxurious week in Zermatt? In any case, it's always a hey-day for Tiffany's, Cartier, and Harry Winston. Not to mention Master Chocolatiers in Switzerland and Belgium.

This holiday season has been a little strange around here. I've mentioned in several posts about the long line of girlfriends streaming in and out of my employer's life since the scandalous divorce some years back. Some of them last for a few months, some for two or three years. But in December there was this new one who swooped down on us, I kid you not, like the Wicked Witch of the West!

After only a couple of weekends of dating my employer, she moved herself in here lock stock and barrel. By that I mean a big truck arrived with all her stuff - clothes, shoes, and boxes and boxes of files - like she was going to be here forever. She even brought her own Christmas tree decorations and insisted we add them to our own traditional tree. Then she immediately started giving orders to our house staff about her laundry and food preferences, and she asked the groundskeeper to keep her car washed at all times. She even tried to turn me into her personal assistant - which I totally rejected.

But it doesn't end there. She also dumped her full-grown dog in our laps, which freaked out our own dogs really bad. And she asked my employer's Personal Secretary at the office to get her a new computer, printer, and a new big-screen TV for the Master Bedroom. "I only like to watch Samsung TVs" was her explanation. Seriously?

Needless to say, we were all reeling about this new crazy woman and her take-over of the house. One day I was escorting a technician from Direct TV around the house to upgrade all the TV receivers when she came up and introduced herself as "the lady of the house". Which was news to me! Really? I thought she was only a temporary guest!

Mercifully after about six weeks my employer had seemingly had enough. For reasons I'm not yet privy to, that same truck that brought her in here came back and hauled her and her dog out, again lock stock and barrel in one brief afternoon. And our dogs seem to be so very grateful and relaxed these few days following. We'll see what the next girlfriend might bring, but I tell you this - the last one was a real doozy!

I hope your deep winter blues, if any, are going well. But every passing day is a count down until spring and renewal, right?

As always, thanks for stopping by this evening.

Andrew

Happy Holidays 2019!

Ahhh! After all the preparations, shopping, decorating and sheer hard work, the payoff is finally here and the holidays are upon us!

I don't know about you but I'm fairly well exhausted myself. While I'm looking forward as to how it all unfolds, I'm also looking forward to January 2 when it's all finally over and deep, deep winter sets it. A sweet period of rest and respite before the spring social season starts winding up.

Holiday preparations this year have been especially difficult for two reasons. The first being that house renovations (mostly painting and plumbing) have been underway at the same time we've been trying to decorate both the interior and exterior of the house for Christmas, which has been tricky. (Mud tracked through the carpets next to the Christmas tree is not a welcome sight!)

But the other is my employer's new déclassé lady friend who seems like she doesn't know upside from down most of the time. It's not her fault that she's lost in this world of the super rich, and she seems sincere enough in her affections toward my eighty-year-old employer. But her lack of social skills has been maddening. We got through the small Thanksgiving and pre-Christmas cocktail parties without her messing anything up. But suddenly she's decided to throw a soirée of her own to introduce her friends to my employer, right between Christmas and New Year's. And she announced it to me as though I'd take care of everything. But no, no, no!

Her guest list started out at about twenty-five, but swelled to eighty-five when my employer heard about it and decided to add some of his friends as well. Mind you, before my employer's scandalous divorce we've had galas in this house for literally hundreds of people, so eighty-five seems like nothing to me. But this new woman just started to spin around like a child's toy top, as though she had never had to deal with so many guests. To help her out I introduced her to our caterers, and convinced her she needs a bartender and valet parkers. Mercifully this particular time frame is dead for them, so they are able to accommodate her.

But of course with such a late decision she was not able to send out Save-The-Date notices followed by formal invitations to anyone, just phone calls and emails. So her RSVP drop-out rate is a whopping 50%, compared to the usual 20% for a well-planned event. Honestly I'll be surprised if even forty people show up

I hope your holiday preparations have gone more smoothly than mine, and that your drop-out rate is only 20% or even less!

As always, thank you so much for reading and following along this year! Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and all best wishes for a happy and curious New Year!

Andrew 

  

Winter Doldrums in the World of the Rich!

"I'm seeing a lot of new faces in the audience tonight, especially on the old faces." - Johnny Carson on the Tonight Show.

With the spring social season just around the corner, this is the time of year when rich people all over the world begin to trickle home after mysteriously vanishing to Switzerland for a few weeks. While their face lifts and other unmentionable nips and tucks might only take a few hours in surgery, it takes a couple of weeks or more for the healing and bruising to subside. And there are plenty of luxury spas in Switzerland to accommodate this recovery time.

At the end of the month we're hosting a small soirée for several couples who have just returned from their winter "vacations", ready to step back out into high society. Dame Covington is practically giddy in anticipation. Said she, "I wonder if we'll recognize anyone?"

My employer and his new girlfriend did go to a rejuvenation spa in Switzerland, but only for a week. And there are no discernible nips, tucks or bruising that we can tell. Ester, the Upstairs Maid, has a keener eye than I, and she suspects they have opted for Botox treatments this year, rather than plastic surgery. While I've noted some puffiness now and then, I can't really tell the difference between too much alcohol or if they're simply retaining and bloated.

But I'm looking forward to the party and the parade of stretched foreheads, alarmingly wide-open eyes, and the sometimes-permanent smiles that come from too many trips to the fountain of youth. Chef and I both agree that a snappy (if somewhat bitchy) cocktail party is just what we need to get warmed up for the onslaught of the social season - which could be a humdinger this year considering how politically polarized everyone has become in the last couple of years.

To be sure, it will be a welcome relief from a rather dull winter this year. Unlike in years past before the divorce, there were no large galas or other dazzling events, no holidays celebrated here in the house, only a smidgen of small rather-dull cocktail parties now and then - all of which I blame on the obnoxious new girlfriend. But nonetheless, we in the house staff tried to make the best of it.

In the last post I told you about Christmas with Dame Covington, which was utterly charming. Then New Year's came along and turned out to be totally uneventful. Although the new girlfriend said she wanted to have a quiet evening with just a few of her déclassé friends over for cocktails (which I really wasn't looking forward to) they wound up going to one of their private dinner clubs in the city. Which gave me the chance to celebrate the evening with a few déclassé friends of my own.

Then Valentine's Day crept up, like it does on all of us, right? And I really didn't know what to do. I did have the good sense to have our florist fill all the vases in the downstairs with red-rose arrangements. And Chef made sure we had plenty of champagne, chocolates and caviar on hand, just in case.

But again we got a reprieve! They booked rooms at the Plaza Hotel and had dinner at the Oak Room (on the ground floor of the hotel) the night of their arrival. And then the next day they had Valentine's lunch at the Plaza's Palm Court. As cliché as that all may sound, we were delighted to have the evening free! Chef made some chocolate-dipped strawberries for Dame Covington, and she was delighted as well.

I hope you got through all the holidays without undue stress, and that your winter blues have passed smoothly. Spring is just around the corner, with all the hope and renewal that always seems to bring.

As always, thanks for stopping by this evening,

Andrew         

What? Dame Covington Is In Jail!

This evening I got a late-night call from our local Constable to see if I could come and bail Dame Covington out of jail! Seriously? It seems the dear old gal had become belligerent and created a ruckus at a fancy cocktail party here in town. Apparently there was an argument about politics and Covington used her gold-handle cane to trip her opponent - an equally elegant lady of roughly her age who didn't take it well and called the cops!

Of course I jumped out of bed and drove over right away. In my world I always have access to bail money, be it for my crazy old employer himself or for his occasionally unruly guests. But Dame Covington is a special case and I'd use my own money to bounce her out of jail, if need be.

This charming wise old woman has been a friend of my employer's since childhood, elementary school in fact, and was a best friend to his first wife who died some years back. She's like a fixture in this house - always around in the background. She can be found in the library quietly reading a book, down at the pond with parasol in hand watching the swans glide by, or unobtrusively making herself a hard boiled egg in the kitchen. In fact, I'd be worried if I didn't see her around here on a daily basis. For those evenings when she's had a few too many cocktails and can't quite make it home, she even has her own designated bedroom on the second floor, next to the elevator.

Among her multiple marriages, no one seems to know or care where she gained the title Dame along her journey in life. But she has a regal air and carriage which gives her all the respect she deserves. It's rumored that she was once quite rich, but now is almost totally dependent on other people's cocktail buffets for her daily nutrition.

Bless her dear heart, she has all kinds of issues in staying out of jail. The dents and scratches on her ancient Rolls Royce testify to her driving skills. While she doesn't drive on highways anymore, apparently she's a terror on streets here in our little community. Our local cop Michael is very lenient with her, but here's some funny exchanges he's shared with me:

Michael: Did you see that red light, Madam?
Covington: Of course I did young man, but there's so many of those in town - do you expect me to stop at all of them?

Michael: There was a stop sign at that intersection, Dame Covington!
Covington: Yes, but it appeared like more of a suggestion and I wasn't really in the mood.

Covington: Why did you stop me young man, can't you see I'm in a hurry?
Michael: Speed signs are there for a reason!
Covington: Alright then, I'll take it under advisement. May I go now?

I met Dame Covington the first week I worked here, it was in autumn. Upon escorting her and my employer's new wife (both with cocktails in hand) out to the balcony to observe the brilliant fall colors of red, yellow, orange and purple, she said to the new wife, "Your grounds are lovely my dear! Who does your trees?" And I've been in love with her ever since.

After posting bail, she fussed all the way home about the embarrassment and discomforts of being thrown into the clink. But coaxing her with a Hot Toddy I finally got her tucked into bed, up on the second floor. And I'm going back to bed myself, right this minute!

As always, thanks for stopping by this evening, even at this late hour.

Andrew


PS: Her bail was only $50!

My Employer Is Flat Out Crazy!

It's only June but it's already hot as the dickens right now, more like something we'd expect in August! At least the summer solstice arrived this week and our dear planet earth starts to tilt northward again, one slow day at a time until Autumn arrives. I for one can't wait! Cooler temps, football games, and all the crazy holidays headed our way.

I don't know if it's the heat that's affecting both me and my employer but we've been at odds lately. On a huge property like this I'm pretty good at hiding out and conveniently running errands without ever having to come face to face with him. In fact sometimes there's ten-day to two-week stretches when we never see each other at all. But when we do there's nothing but whining, bickering and quarreling about every damned little thing around here:

He: There's a couple of tree lights out in the driveway.
Me: Yes, bulbs do burn out, don't they?
He: When you find the time would you mind changing the batteries in my remote?
Me: Certainly Sir, I've been waiting all day for such a challenge.
He: Why's the TV not working?
Me: Because it's raining and I'm not the one who chose satellite for this house!
He: Are you happy here Andrew?
Me: About what Sir, if I might ask?

The thing is, in my mind the rich have nothing very much to complain about in this life. They have luxurious secure housing, as much gourmet food as they want or need, top-dollar health insurance, vacations, travel - and free time out the wazoo. What else on earth is there to grumble about?

The big rub right now is that he has a new girlfriend - I've lost count but she's like seventh or eighth since the divorce several years back. Some last a few months, some a couple of years, but this new one has a strange grip that I've not seen before. She's like a Goody two-shoes type (nothing wrong with that) but she's planted Bibles all over the house, including the old man's bedside table. And she's even coaxed him into going to church on Sunday mornings - which is way too late in my opinion.

So here's how it goes: the pharmacy delivers Viagra to the house on Saturday, they go to church on Sunday morning, then come home and fornicate all afternoon. Which is fine, I'm no one's judge - and it certainly does keep them out of my hair for the day.

But the other thing is my employer is getting up there in years and showing signs of dementia and paranoia. Which is scary! He has total recall of things that never happened, and in his mind everyone is trying to steal from him or screw him in some kind of way. He'll devour an entire can of nuts while watching a soccer game, then claim the next day that someone stole his cashews. It's not just the house-staff here that gets the evil eye, but the office staff as well. He'll approve a new purchase or renovation for a property he owns, but then forget about his approval and chew everyone out for spending his money! This gets old really fast. How can we know what to do without running afoul of the bear?

The good news tonight is that my spy confidant at the office said the pilot has been alerted and the old man and new woman will be away during the week of July 4th celebrations - a much needed respite for all of us! And I think if I'm wise I need to sit down and update my resume while it's quiet around here for a few days. Who knows what the future may bring?

Thanks for dropping by this evening. I hope you're planning some fun events for the Fourth. I'd love to be with my family for some outdoor grilling and homemade ice cream, but it's not in the cards this year. House sitting and dog sitting are never-ending tasks, whether the old man is here or not.

Andrew
         

Christmas Gifts for the Rich: The Orient Express!

In September I mentioned a few items that might be great gifts for the super rich. It's really hard to buy for them, you know? Considering they already have everything under the sun, right?

But thanks to our Twitter pal Jim Kendall (luxury real-estate mogul in Boston) it occurs to me that the gift of travel could be entirely unique and well received by our rich friends - if presented carefully and in the right way. Who doesn't love to get out of town and do something different, right?

For example, how about open tickets (meaning 'at your convenience' ) for a ten-day holiday on a luxury Mediterranean cruise ship? (Which is generally under $50,000 per couple.)

And then, how about open reservations for a six-day revitalization visit to the luxury spa Clinique La Prairie in Switzerland? Who wouldn't appreciate that? (About $33,000 per person, or $66,000 per couple.)

Or perhaps open tickets for the three-room apartments on the UAE's luxury airline Ethiad Air -complete with a private shower before landing? (A round-trip ticket from New York to Mumbai, for example, would be roughly $76,000 per couple.)

But Jim was talking about something new altogether. It seems the renowned Orient Express, serving the rich and famous since 1883, is upgrading some cars to accommodate the current new breed of super rich - who are always looking for new thrills and adventures. In it's long 135 year history the train has not only been known for luxury but also mystery and intrigue - as in Agatha Christie's book and film Murder On the Orient Express.

Like many other children, my father bought me a miniature train set when I was a child and I've been hooked on train travel ever since. As a family we took trains all across America and Canada, with sleeping cars, an observation car, and a dining room with linens and crystal wine glasses on the table. All so awesome! And then in later years as a poor back-packing student traveling in Europe, cheap passenger trains were always the transportation of choice. Not just for the scenic beauty but also the wonderful people you meet along the journey.

One summer in Istanbul I went to the train station to check out the Destination Board, trying to decide where to go to next. To my excitement the Orient Express was pulling into the station at that very same time! At least twice I walked the entire length of the train on the platform, peering into windows and watching the well-heeled passengers depart - summonsing porters to pick up their Louis Vuitton luggage and steamer trunks. Just so elegant and mind boggling!

But now getting back to the subject, here's a link to the newly added suites for the super rich on the Orient Express. At a mere $7,000 per night per person, you can easily see why this would be a great gift for your best rich friends. That's only about $200,000 for a couple to have a two-week trip, right? Perfect for a honeymoon or anniversary celebration, as well as other such reckless events.  Conde Nast Traveler

I hope this has been somewhat helpful in making gift decisions this year?  Or what?

As always, thanks for dropping in this evening,
Andrew

The Terrified Rich!

"I've been rich been rich and I've been poor, but rich is better!" -  Sophie Tucker, Gertrude Stein, Mae West

During these times of worldwide chaos I've been somewhat amused by business and financial publications like Forbes, The Atlantic, and Business Insider describing the whining and fears of the well-heeled rich. While many of us scramble to come up with rent money or the electric bill, it's true that the rich and super rich have their own set of headaches that keep them awake at night - as inconceivable as that may sound.

In no particular order, here's a list of some of their self-imposed anxieties:

- HANGING ON TO THEIR MONEY: Once they've busted their butts and accumulated a pile of cash, "How on earth do we hang onto it?"

- DECLINING MARKETS: Could their fortunes evaporate overnight with rumors of a recession or an actual collapse? (Even those in the middle class with 401K's have this worry, right?)

- THE IRS: Rich people know all too well that the Internal Revenue Service is breathing down their necks, watching every move they make and ready to pounce. Which requires teams of accountants and lawyers to help them find all the loopholes.

- LAWSUITS: Everyone wants to sue the rich and they're always being dragged into court for some reason or other, which is why they keep lawyers on retainer. (My employer even has a special cheap suit from Walmart and a $25 butt-ugly watch from Walgreen's that he wears to court, so he won't look too rich.)

- CAR WRECKS: At any given moment on any given day, a simple car crash could cost them millions once the injured party and their lawyers find out they have deep pockets! Which is why many of them take taxis, limos, or hired car services when they go out and about.

- POLITICAL CONCERNS: Who is currently in the White House or Congress that might help or hinder them for getting a tax cut or eliminating corporate regulations? (And therefore huge contributions to political campaigns!)

- DIVORCE: No doubt about it, this is decidedly the easiest and quickest way to lose HALF your fortune overnight! (Especially when the wife knows the best attorneys who can break a prenuptial agreement.)

- SEXUAL IMPROPRIETY: As we all know, anyone with money or power is at risk of blackmail, public exposure, or lawsuits for inappropriate behavior. It's all over the news all the time, and I needn't explain more.

- CHARITIES: The rich are under constant siege from a long list of charities seeking donations. Which is why most of them assuage their guilt by aligning themselves with a favorite few, attend their glitzy (if not boring) Charity Balls, then scribble out a check and be done with it. (Around the holidays we literally gets stacks of charity requests in the mail!)

- SECURITY: The multiple homes of the rich are always targets for professional thieves and cat burglars who are after their million-dollar art works, jewels and silver. Even worse, some rich people need to hire body guards to protect against more sinister situations like kidnapping, ransom, or worse.

There's other disquieting stuff, like fear of gold-digging friends, corporate embezzlement, or worrying that their kids will bump them off for the inheritance - but I'll stop here. Many of us daydream about being rich. (Or at least having enough to make ends meet every month.) But as with anything else, there are consequences and responsibilities involved.

As Oscar Wilde said: "When the Gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers."

Thanks for dropping in this evening,
Andrew

Christmas Cards for the Rich!

Have you started your holiday greeting cards yet? I know it's only mid November, but with so much to do for the holidays it's best to get started on the greeting cards right away.

In the world of the rich greeting cards are not optional. In fact they're mandatory, and Hallmark cards aren't going to cut it. (Sorry Hallmark, no offense intended whatsoever.)

In early September I ordered the necessary number of personalized greeting cards my rich employer requires, and in October delivered them to our calligrapher for addressing the envelopes. In fact, she'll have them ready by the end of this week - plenty of time for my dotty old employer to add his signature or personal hand-written words, as he so desires.

I know there are beautiful cards out there in every elegant department store and boutique, with designs by the best of artists. But around here we always resort to Crane and Company - makers of fine stationary for the rich, and the very paper our United States dollars are printed on.

From this company you can get a nice box of 100 personalized greeting cards (including your own inside message and choice of fonts and colors) for easily under $500 dollars. In fact, the more cards you order, the lower the price per card. They also have pre-made cards that drops the price considerably, almost down to Hallmark prices. But at least you'll still have the Crane & Company insignia.

The thing is, social correspondence for the rich is a deadly serious business. If you have time for further reading on the subject, several months back I wrote four different posts about the importance of hand-written communications in the world of the rich.

RSVP, Invitations, and Regrets;
Thank You Notes;
Stationery for the Rich;
Calligraphy for the Rich.

I hope this hasn't been too long or overbearing, but if you wait 'til the last minute to do your greeting cards then the whole attempt might become more of a chore rather than the pleasure it should be in reaching out to say "Hello" to our friends and loved ones at this special time of year.

Thanks for dropping in this evening,

Andrew

Home Libraries for the Rich!

I recently received a comment inquiring 'What kind of books do rich people read?' But since every human being whether rich or poor is different in their tastes and interests, there's really no way to give a generalized answer, right? What I can tell you, however, is that rich people have books in their homes, and lots of them.

Most of us have bookshelves, whether we live in a small apartment, a modest home, or a mansion. But it's become fashionable among millionaires and billionaires to have an enormous private home library, with floor to ceiling shelves filled with thousands of books. Just check this Google Image link to see exactly what I'm talking about here.

These home libraries are certainly grand and beautiful to the eye. However, unless they're in the home of a professor or scholar, they don't really make sense, do they? Aside from using books as decorations, they are meant for one thing - to impress someone. They make the statement "We are respectable, grounded, intelligent, thoughtful, inquisitive and decidedly well read!" 

But not necessarily true. These libraries are not a life-long collection of seriously-studied books that shape the owners' souls.They are created by interior designers who purchase the books by the yard to fill the empty shelves in these empty-headed rooms.

The upper shelves always have extensive collections of matching, color-coordinated encyclopedias, law books and such. Then lower down, there are yards and yards of exquisitely bound books on any topic under the sun. But on the eye-level shelves, the books are generally supposed to reflect the owners' real interests in life - hunting, traveling, music, pre-Colombian art, whatever. But the thing is, these shelves can easily be manipulated to impress people with embellished interests beyond the owners' true experience and exposure.

If you've been reading this blog for very long I think you'll agree that I'm not too often critical of the rich. But these phony libraries really get my goat. They are in fact a graveyard for books - never touched, never pulled out, never read. And they rarely provide a true glimpse into the owners' souls.

In the house where I currently work there is indeed one of these designer showroom libraries. But I'm relieved to tell you that upstairs in the private living quarters there are also floor-to-ceiling shelves carelessly crammed with books that are actually read. You'll find all the latest offerings from the New York Times Bestseller List and titles directly related to my employers' personal interests and business affairs. Non-fiction certainly seems dominant over fiction. And getting closer to an answer for "What do rich people read", in this house you won't find any of the popular genres such as romance novels, murder mysteries, westerns, horror or science fiction.

So I'm going to stick my neck out here, not extrapolating this to all rich people, and say that the reading habits of my current employers are seemingly on the serious side. Which is a good thing, in my opinion, as they present themselves as leaders and pillars of the community..

Thanks for stopping by tonight.

Andrew

   

Dogs of the Rich!

There seems to be a lot of interest about where canines fit into the lives of the rich. In fact, if you google the words rich people's dogs you'll see literally tens of millions of articles.

We've all heard stories about diamond-studded collars and lavish inheritances left to pets (i.e. Leona Helmsley). And I have a vague memory of an event when Elizabeth Taylor chartered a private yacht to keep her Pekingese off shore to avoid the six-month quarantine to get a dog into England.  

If you've been reading for a while, you know we have two Great Danes here on the estate, and my rich employers seem to genuinely adore them. But their input into the dogs' care is minimal (make that non-existent) and their welfare is dumped entirely into the hands of house staff.

There was an article in Forbes Magazine a while back by Liz Moyer wherein she quotes Russ Alan Prince (President of Prince and Associates) who's organization authoritatively tracks the habits of the rich.

Says Prince: "For some wealthy people, the only true love they get is from their pets. They're estranged from their children, they are at war with their business partners, but their pets are always there for them."

Sounds kind of sad and pathetic, right? But I guess there's some truth to it. At least their pets are not asking them for business advice or loans, or throwing investment opportunities in front of every step they take. And I know for a fact our Danes are not begging him for charity contributions - just treats now and then.

Here's what my employers do for the Danes, which is mainly all the fun stuff:
- Pet and hug them.
- Sometimes they'll pick up a ball and throw it.
- They also pay for the groomer to come here once a week.

And here's what the house staff does for them, mainly all the hard work:
- Feed them twice a day plus lots of snacks.
- Clean up their accidents in the house, which are all too frequent!
- Give them their monthly heart worm and flea meds.
- Get them to their regular and emergency vet appointments.
- Administer whatever meds and restrictions the vet prescribes.
- Brush and check for fleas and ticks between the groomer's visits.
- Make sure they get enough outings and exercise.

Hum...so who gets the short end of this deal? Sometimes I get the feeling the Danes are just living ornaments around here, along with all the other possessions my employers own. I wonder what a sincere dog lover would think about this. Taking on a pet is such a huge commitment and responsibility, is it not? My employers, however, effectively dodge all the mess and problems of pet ownership, and pass it off to their house staff. Perhaps understandable and very convenient, right?

But then - they also pass off their children to a Nanny. Who am I to judge?

Just some observations tonight. Thanks for stopping in.

Andrew

Personal Shopper for a Billionaire!

One of the most fun things about this job is shopping for the house and the family I work for. The fact that they're billionaires is icing on the cake with a seemingly unlimited budget. I was issued a corporate credit card when first hired, and no matter what I spend, the corporation replenishes the account immediately - like having a magic purse.

Normally I can go through several thousand a month just for food, wine, floral arrangements, and household items to keep the place running smoothly. But if there's a major holiday or important cocktail parties in the works, my credit card balance can shoot up into the tens of thousands. 

Like if I need to order a kilogram of Beluga caviar for a large cocktail party, there goes $6,000 or $7,000 right there. (My heart always skips a beat when I hit the "Add to Cart" button - especially if I need two kilograms, in which case I'm near sweating.)

Imagine what it's like to go shopping for this family and buy whatever you wish - the most expensive array of imported cheeses, the choicest cuts of meats, the freshest shrimp and wild Atlantic salmon, fruits, berries, nuts, expensive deli crackers and chocolates - all without so much as glancing at the price.

The Mister is always grumbling about household expenses. One month when my account topped fifty thousand (it was December and there were several cocktail events in the house) he mentioned that "We need to cut back". When I reported this to the Missus who runs the house, she simply replied, "Things are as they are - don't worry about him, I'll take care of it."

I should also mention that if there's a major event involving the events planner, musicians, tents and canopies, caterers, waiters, bartenders, security and valet parkers - that doesn't go through my budget. This kind of party can hit a hundred thousand or more in nothing flat, and is paid for by the corporation.

When I first started working here all this extravagance took my breath away. But I'm way over it now and just hope that after each party there'll be a little left-over Beluga and champagne.

As always, thanks for dropping in this evening,
Andrew