It is difficult for me to imaginewhat it would be like to be rich.
Really rich.
I grew up sharing a house
with eight siblings
and wore hand me downs till they
were thread bare.
It didn't bother me then.
It's before I became aware
of how other people lived.
In nice ranch homes
with a station wagon
and a den-
taking vacations to see
national forests and
sandy beaches-
wearing clothes from
a store that
didn't sell popcorn
while you shopped.
Today's rich people go all out
when planning their homes.
Gone is the groovy den
and taking its place is
the chic media room that
can hold 50 or more people.
A personal cinema.
Then there are bowling alleys,
tennis courts,
saunas, exercise rooms,
putting greens
and heated driveways.
Some rich women even have
"wrapping rooms" where they
just wrap presents.
With rows and rows of ribbon
and wrap and tape
and colorful bows.
And a giant table with
where they can lay out the
cut crystal vases
and flat screen TV's to
tie up into presents for their
servants.
Or something.
One luxurious home in Lake Tahoe
has a wine cellar that holds
3500 bottles of wine.
And I can almost guarantee
it is not Boone's Farm!
Yes, they certainly know how to live...
I'm not sure if I'd really want all that.
But one room that I would like to
incorporate into my home
would be the Panic Room.
Not exactly because I'm afraid
of terrorists
or evil intruders, mind you.
But so I could go hide inside
my personal panic room-
(whenever panic sets in)
like, daily, maybe-
and no one could bother me
and I'd have enough food
and entertainment for a few days.
If I was lucky,
maybe somebody
would take out the trash.
Or do laundry.
Or buy groceries.
Or scrub the toilet.
Or bathe the dog.
Or set the mouse traps.
Or mow the lawn.
And then-
maybe I might win the
lottery, too.
Yeah, right.
