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| Rob's Soapbox | ||
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Congratulations!
You have finally landed on the one page on this entire site (and on the entire internet for that matter) that is purely without bullshit... my soapbox page. There are a lot of times during our show that, whether it's because of time constraints and other obligations, I don't always get to address some issues that I feel don't get the attention they deserve. There are even more times when I just don't feel like waiting until the show the next day to get some things off my chest. Thus, I have started the "Rob's Soapbox" page. If you have clicked on this page looking for someone to coddle your fragile sense of self-esteem, or tell you what you want to hear or to reinforce your outdated world view, then exit this page right now and go somewhere else. If you are in search of the last forum for reason and common sense left in the world, then sit back, relax, and enjoy. I make only one promise with this soapbox page... if you read long enough and often enough, you will eventually be offended. So here's my latest soapbox. Listen up, 'cause you just might learn something... |
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March 30th, 2009 MY NEIGHBORHOOD'S SECRET SOCIETY We often say on the show that class and money do not go hand in hand. My neighborhood proves the adage beyond the pale. The point of the mantra is simple; just because you have money doesn’t mean you also have class, and certainly the reverse is true as well; people with little or relatively no money often have a ton of class; I can think of plenty of hard working blue collar folks that are filled with class, and sadly, I know lots of people worth 7 figures that have no class at all. I will stop over-using the word “class” now. Our American society has tried to force upon us the belief that the people who make the most amongst us are therefore more refined, civilized, intelligent, better bred, and ultimately better than the rest. Class warfare goes in both directions and we’ve spent a lot of time in America the last 40 years demonizing the rich and successful in our nation and during that time one of the ways they’ve fought back is by perpetuating the cartoon of themselves’ as some scene out of the Great Gatsby. The truth is that class is all about how you carry yourself, treat others and behave. Class covers everything from manners to etiquette to morality. Class involves holding the door open for the person behind you as you leave a store, thanking someone who does the same for you and offering a polite wave to those who let you in front of them in traffic. Class is knowing, (without being told), that cell phones don’t belong in church and that no one, anywhere wants to hear your cell phone conversations so thus you should speak quietly. Class is making someone new, young or nervous feel welcomed, not shutting them out and demanding that they earn your time. Class is knowing how to both win and lose with grace and honor. Class is not being afraid to leave your wife’s side at a party, but also not abandoning her completely. Class is, in the end, not so much definable as it is simply understood. It is elegant, understated and damn impressive. I live in an up-scale neighborhood in Northern California. It is far from the nicest neighborhood I have ever seen, but it is viewed, correctly, as a neighborhood of stature and comes with all of the stereotypical trappings such a place should have; a gated community entrance, guards patrolling our streets, video surveillance throughout the neighborhood, multiple water fountains, perfectly manicured and maintained front yards, a golf course, homes ranging from 3,000 – 5500 square feet, and a whole bunch of assholes. Secondly, my wife and I crave privacy and solitude but weren’t yet ready to make the move to acreage and near total isolation from society for a few reasons; for one thing, we have no intention of living out our remaining years in the Sacramento area because it’s an awful place, so why invest in land and permanence? Secondly, every mile towards the country we go, adds 2 minutes to my drive to work which already demands that I wake up at 2:30 every morning. We thought that for now it might be nice to live somewhere that allowed to me to stay up with my wife until, say, 7pm each night. What a party. So we compromised our fortunate lifestyle with realistic understandings of our current demands and settled (for now) on a nice sized home with as nice a view as you’re going to get in the Sacramento area in a well-to-do community which will have an enormous financial upside someday and comes with a fairly quiet day-to-day life. Our intention was always to keep to ourselves, go about our quiet private lives and count the days until I retire and we escape one of California’s few desolate wastelands. We were “original residents,” buying the home before the entire community was finished being constructed. Along the way we have slowly met many of our neighbors. Almost all of them “know who I am,” since word travels fast in a 400 home community and, admittedly, it’s hard to be inconspicuous when you drive a corvette and have a fat guy showing up at your house regularly with a giant Longhorn sticker on his SUV. The show’s overwhelming popularity and success makes it almost impossible to not have heard of us, even if someone has never listened to the show. The unquestionable majority of our neighbors like their privacy as well and are happy to allow us ours. Everyone smiles, we generally look out for each other’s homes and the neighborhood in general and there are almost no “troublemakers.” No one seems to let their kids get too loud or their dogs bark too much, everyone’s home is well kept and whatever riff-raff did live in our community were foreclosed upon early in the process; we have almost 100% residency/occupancy and everyone that lives here can seemingly afford it (one of the many reasons our community is and will remain so valuable; MOST people who couldn’t afford to live here were forced out early and the rest of us are happy to maintain our homes’ values and wait for the turnaround). It seems near to perfect as can be, doesn’t it? If you have to have neighbors, this is the way to do it, one would think based on that description. Sadly, as is so often the case it’s basically phony; at least for a small fairly pathetic group of our neighbors that are so stuck in high school they actually formed a “secret society,” that gets together in alternating homes, for the sole purpose not of enjoying one another’s company, but rather to sit around and talk about other people and how those in the “secret society” are better than the people they’re talking about. Eeesh; makes my skin crawl just writing about it. This glorious group is not made up of people that actually like one another, it’s a group of people who meet a fairly pitiful set of “qualifications,” that apparently begins with “how much money you make,” and ends with some sort of painfully despicable minimum requirement on the type or number of cars you drive. Now, lest you think any of this is sour grapes allow me to dispel your misconceptions; my wife and I were invited to join this gaggle of goofs early on; in fact we still have the flyer (classy invitation, yes?) which we look at now and then for a good laugh. That is, after all, all you can do with people like this; laugh at them and/or feel sorry for them. I’ve been holding off on sharing this monstrosity with you for reasons none other than it truly makes Janell and me fairly ill to attempt to comprehend how pathetic people must be to enjoy getting together for the stated purpose of looking down at people who live amongst you. I had all but forgotten about these clowns until a neighbor recently asked me about the society and it reminded me that I had been meaning to let you in on it. If nothing else, I am hopeful that sharing these cretins with you will help you to understand that alleged high society comes with more than its fair share of vile people who fit every negative stereotype ever created about “gated communities,” and well-to-do people. Yuck. As for the society itself, it clearly isn’t that secret. That was never the point, of course, because people who would actually commit their time to gathering with others solely to make themselves feel superior don’t want the fact to be a secret; that gets in the way of their sense of entitlement and self importance. They would much rather that everyone knows about their “secret society” in the hopes that people will feel left out and, ergo, beg to get into their dumb group (thus, they believe, feeling as though they have arrived in life). This is as childish as adults get; it simply doesn’t get any more immature than this. Additionally, how in the world do they know how much money people make? The answer, of course, is that they don’t. They’re either totally guessing, using material possessions as a guide, or not caring and basing their “invitations” on the desirability of the couple, while claiming that income does matter solely for purposes of appearance. Jesus, the more I write about this the more repulsive it is. Trust me when I tell you that no one in this entire gated community has the slightest clue what my actual income or our net worth is. I hold such things close to the vest for many reasons and while educated guesses can certainly be made, no one would be correct. Apparently though, months ago, my public profile, the cars we drive and/or how Janell and I look, dress and act was good enough to garner a flyer-of-invitation. We never responded and since, I am sure, have become the hot topic of conversation amongst the secret society that simply can’t understand how anyone could turn them down. Without prejudice I tell you it was the easiest thing we’ve ever done; and one of the smartest.
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