A few weeks ago I read an article about insufferable “new rich” who visit Nantucket. The article went on to surmise that many of the tourists were the nouveau riche who came to the island like it was a pilgrimage to Mecca. “If one finally 'arrives,' one must make at least one pilgrimage to Nantucket to bray about their financial status. Profess your faith through displaying conspicuous consumption.” In other words Rhode Islanders would understand, a spacone.
The original subject of the article was about some nasty Islanders who callously dismissed the poorer residents (the “help”) concerns about finding affordable housing there. Bumper stickers were appearing that said: “If You Want Affordable Housing, Go Back to the Cape Where You Belong.” The author goes on to question whether the help was going to commute the four hour total, ferry to and from the Island, to work their jobs keeping the rich from having to do their own laundry and such. A response to the article had one threatening to introduce as many male and female skunks to the island, in hopes they breed like hell and stink up the place. I think perhaps some nice Lyme disease carrying tics stuck to the skin of male and female badgers would make island living more interesting.
But the author's trip to the Island took on a different bent when he encountered the stuck up attitudes of mostly the visitors of the Island vs. the actual residents themselves. He noticed the arrogant way they drove on that tiny island, with over sized Cadillac Escalades and giant Land Rovers. Add to that their inability to follow parking regulations and parked wherever they wanted. Also the comedy of seeing their purported off road vehicles sunk, up to their axles in the sand, on some of the beaches.
He spoke of standing in line at one of the many ice cream shops near the principal marina there and overhearing, rather TOO easily, some young 20 Something Trust Fund kids insult his choice in sunglasses. They weren't Jacques Marie Mage shades but a pair of knock-off Ray Bans bought at a Boston yard sale. Oh, How gauche! How tacky!
He ignored the comments but it perked his interest and began listening in to some other conversations he would overhear from the young rich he'd find. The best one was where he overheard a young wife, with a little one in tow, rip the hell out of her husband about not “being able to afford the White Elephant Hotel and instead staying at some B&B where they do NOT babysit the kids all day. The White Elephant boasts of a staff where you can dump your annoying, fun killing kids off all day, freeing you to get drunk and go wind surfing. If you're really rich, you can send them to some boarding school in Switzerland. Then you can sail the world in your yacht, docking at all the proper places and be seen.
Ugh, imagine a wife who was soo class conscious to ride you about not moving up as well as you can, so you can afford to brazenly display and shove in the face of others, your wealth? Even if she was hot that wouldn't be compensation enough.
**
On a 4th of July once, I hung out with some friends I grew up with at their place of business to watch the fireworks at McCoy stadium. It was nicely placed to see it all and an easy in 'n' out as the city population would swell another 20,000 and jam up all the roads. For us, we knew how to navigate the side roads and avoid it all from where his business was.
At the time, I was driving a Sebring convertible which I loved. I always loved convertibles as they were a joy to drive and very relaxing. I had parked mine with the other vehicles there. It was the only “car” in the lot as everyone else drove oversized SUVs. As the night wore on, one of the wives came to me and asked why I was still driving a car. It was the way she said it that dripped of judgment and failed conformism on my part. I wasn't keep up appearances it seems.
I told her I didn't need a truck like that, and being very conscious of costs, I alerted her that the exhaust system on her husband's SUV costs more than than..say a very decent weekend on the Cape. That didn't click for her, she was too involved in her appearance and how she slightly tilted her white wine glass as she spoke to me. Also being desperately thin at 47 didn't help her in my mind's eye either. “You're not 20 honey..not anymore!” I thought.
As she walked back to her family, I mouthed, “You're married to a plumber for God's Sake, who was convicted of drug dealing in his teens. I know, I saw him being shoved into a cop car in Slater Park.” I suspect she was waiting for her invitation to join the Point Judith Country Club. It'll be a lonnng wait honey, you aren't their kind of people. You'd be arrested if you tried to walk in the front door.
At another cook out event, I ran into another conspicuous spender wife. She had questioned why I was still living in Pawtucket and not moved to Seekonk or Rehoboth where all the newly rich ones in Pawtucket fled too. I had told her that it would be nice to have the privacy a couple of acres would give me but the “need” to move just two miles to the east wasn't that strong. As we continued to speak, she fired jabs at me and I at her. When I found out she belonged to a home owners association, I really dug into her. I called them conformist shit holes where “bored rich housewives who have nothing to do but stir the shit in the pot by patrolling the neighborhood looking for petty violations of the association's contract...the wrong colored rose bushes...only red American Beauty roses are allowed!”
I go on...
“My God..it's like a bunch of teen girls ripping up another one over her lack of proper mascara...you'd think these women would've grown emotionally over the years, simply just grow up!”
When I said that, her head spun around and she gave me the worst look in the world.
BINGO! You gave it away! I nailed it! She WAS one of those girls! I thought.
“Hey Kathy, why did you get so angry at what I said? Are YOU one of those girls?”
Silence. Only crickets chirping.
The whole time, her husband was sitting right next to her and just dried up like a spider on a hot stove as we two had this little row. He wasn't going to say a damn thing..and didn't.
She cut me off after that for the rest of the night. No loss. I just felt bad for her husband who had to LIVE with that.
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