Them that has, get....

I have to catch up with my bills AND clean the house--doesn't today, Monday, seem the perfect day for such things?

Not that I've done anything yet, mind you. Had to apply for a job that leapt out at me on this morning's e-mail first. It's at Harvard, so of course all of my state-school insecurities have been having a field day. Morning. I know, I know--I should really worry more about all of the brain cells I murdered while at that state school, rather than the school itself (which is a fine institution and I shouldn't be ashamed of it; my behavior while there, well that's another story....).

And I'm all better now (and, God willing, will remain so), so why worry?

No, I haven't a snowball's chance with that job, so why torture myself. It just seemed so perfect--it entailed research on business solutions to global poverty. Yes, I could apply all this business expertise I've been amassing all these many years to a humanitarian issue.

Humanitarianism and writing/research: Does it get much better than that??

Well, no, it doesn't. So I applied, even though I realize a job like that will likely draw 1,000s of resumes and while I am qualified, I got a report on my resume that this morning that said it stunk.

Problem is, it was also attached to an offer to "fix" said resume for $75.

I'm afraid I don't find that a Kosher combination, so am sticking with my stinky resume for now.

On other fronts, I spent part of the morning stewing about something I read in The Berkshire Eagle over breakfast. It was a front-page article on how Nantucket is becoming an island equivalent of a gated community for the super-nouveau riche of our age. What really got me was a quote from the guy who made his $500 million fortune from Yankee Candle (whose name I've forgotten in the hopes that it will vanish along with his story). He wasn't surprised that Nantucket was filling up with rich folks like himself, for "successful people like to be with successful people." Besides, there he can have a "nice" bottle of wine without having to worry about it, citing the fact that he could spend $300 for said bottle of wine while the guy at the next table would likely spend $400.

So, these birds of a feather flock together so they can indulge themselves in peace, basically. No poor or even middle-class people around to ruin their fun. Awaken what's left of their conscience, if any.

While I don't begrudge anyone the occasional indulgence (one look at me, and you'd know I walk that talk), but when indulgence becomes a way of life, I find myself turning away. Doesn't help that another paper carried a headline about the starvation "epidemic" sweeping across Africa.

Problem is, I can't help but thinking about how much food $300 could buy, much less $400.

That's just the way I think, I suppose; learned that at my mother's knee. When she was a little girl (during the Depression, as I may have already told you), she asked her mother why the richest family in town did nothing to help all the people on breadlines. "They didn't get rich thinking that way," she replied.

Guess not. And they sure won't start thinking that way as long as they hide themselves away in swanky island ghettos, will they?

Oh my--now I am in a state. Time to hit the stack of bills on my desk. Woo!