Happytown

A fine fountain pen. You could pay a thousand times the price of this one. Exactly what does that mean?

Right in the middle of middle America there is a place called Happy-town. Everyone in Happy-town has an ultra-white fence, two dogs, one wife, a small cape cod house, and a summer house in the Hamptons with a mistress. Wait, I know what you are thinking. Who really needs two dogs?

Life is not about simple needs, if that were the case we could get by with a mistress, six thousand a month from investment dividends and live in a miserable studio apartment in Soho. The apartment, rent free, that you just happened to inherit from your pilgrim forefathers. Life is much more than a gorgeous mistress from Ipanema and various accoutrements though. You need people to fear you and your wealth. They need to be cautiously enthusiastic and eager to serve you. Don’t settle though, you need more, evermore.

Your fence pickets are inch thick hardwood, sanded, primed and finished with no blemish. Each individual slat costs more than three times the hourly rate of more than half the nations' workers. Homeless onlookers stand and stare at the fence in disbelief for long minutes until they are hauled away by the police.

Enough about things. You must pay attention to your feelings. Happy-town residents feel the exhilaration of outrageous profit margins, whether from preposterously inflated pharmaceutical prices or hedge fund managed emergency rooms. Whatever they have stock in - be it a diamond mine in South Africa or opioid manufacturers right here in the U.S. of A., the feeling is nearly orgasmic, never karmic. There are many ways to make a killing, figuratively and literally. Residents of Happy-town feel no dread or embarrassment regarding the cash derived from the sale of weapons. The manufacturers of endless wars and the machinery needed to sustain them - from Afghanistan to Nicaragua are profiting endlessly. You can feel the comfort cash coming in, and the ability to pay one hundred thousand for a fountain pen is unspeakable.

There are however other things that must be attended to as a resident. You may be required to pay 35K for a photo op with a would be dictator or several actual ones. It is just part of the program. That’s the way it is in Happytown!

Comment:
You are so lame, I'll never invite you to the Hamptons again.
Barbara, I didn't mean for this to be about your stock in Boeing and Northrop-Grumman, or your white picket fence. It's kind of a parody that's all, really.