"Broke Like Me"

[AuntShecky]

[Author’s Note: Ever hear the expression “Great minds think alike”? The converse –“Not particularly great minds think alike” – must be true as well. I’d been working on the following story for a couple of days when I ran across a newspaper article about a new television series whose premiere will soon air on the Fox network. The premise is that each week a different millionaire will leave his money at home while he goes incognito into a poor neighborhood. The title of the series is, inexplicably enough, “Secret Millionaire.” After relying “on the kindness of strangers,” so to speak, the star of that week’s episode will reveal his true identity and bestow big financial awards on those who actually helped him in his time of need. The article calls it a “reality” show. (Must be a misprint.) In any event, any similarity between this short story and that future show is strictly coincidental.]

Broke Like Me

One has often wondered what pavement feels like, and now, alas, one knows. Here I am, Carter Farquar Wentworth IV , world-renowned yachtsman, international raconteur, and majority stockholder of the Allied Amalgamated Services Corporation Inc., in such desperate straits that I have been locked out of the bosom of hearth and home, lock, stock, and tragically-empty barrel. Additionally, I am literally lost, for upon leaving my Club – which had the cheekiest of effronteries to deny me entrance! – my erstwhile chauffeur having deserted me and forcing me to proceed on foot – on foot! --
through the dreariest and most unfamiliar of all urban venues, I have lost my way. Thus, like a latter-day living “Thinker” from Rodin, I am sitting on this lowly curb. I am afforded no knowledge of where I am or how I may proceed, and no cushion to buffer the unspeakable grime from the silken seat of my sui generis, custom-made Italian suit pants. Who would ever have imagined that concrete could be so insufferably cold!

“Hey Folks! It’s your old pal Willie Neigh here! Got trouble getting those nasty stains out of your best dress pants? DON’T pay through the nose for dry cleaning! Don’t dump ‘em in the recycling bin! DON’T donate your expensive clothes to charity! Just get foxy and try my Oxy! Oxy-Cotton-11, my NEW super-duper stain remover! DON’T be satisfied with wimpy old Oxy-Cotton 10! Rachet up that dial to Oxy-Cotton 11! Call NOW! Operators are standing by. Have your credit card ready. And if you order by midnight tonight, you’ll get a SECOND bottle o’ Oxy-Cotton 11 absolutely FREE! Only $19.95 for two HUGE bottles o’ Oxy-Cotton 11. Crank it up to 11, and your clothes will thank you! Call NOW!”

The nightmare started earlier today. . . “Oh, Muffy, dear, how delightful it must be in Palm Springs this time of year. . . Oh yes, certainly we’ll be joining you soon, but I’ve been so busy lately. . .Just haven’t had time to set up a flight with my pilot. . .Oh, Edmund, I didn’t know you were standing there! And Pablo didn’t announce you! Where is that man? Honestly, one can’t get good help these days!. . .Muffy, dear, Edmund is here. I’m afraid I’ll have to cut our conversation short. . .certainly Darling, I’ll call you back. . .yes, of course, Ta-ta.” I hung up the phone. “Muffy sends her love.”

“Oh, but I wish she could send you something more tangible, Carter.”

My financial advisor looked positively ashen. “Why, Edmund, whatever do you mean?”

“It’s bad, Carter, really bad. I don’t know how to tell you this, but to come right out with it. Allied Amalgamated ‘s stock price opened well yesterday and then plunged
faster than a critically-acclaimed TV show gets cancelled. It’s all gone, Carter. You’re bankrupt! In the popular parlance, busted. You’re broke.”

[Author’s note: As customary in television , the financial guy tells the former millionaire that he’s broke three more times.]

I was aghast! I fell backward onto my hand-crafted, custom-made sofa, nearly demolishing the legs of a nearby Louis Quatorze chaise in the process. “Surely it’s not as bad as you say. I have these 37 acres of prime property. I own fourteen other houses –“

“With a lien on each and every one. And don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about that Lola Abundonza person who has had your inheritance tied up in litigation for the past fifteen years. . .”

“Uh, that unsufferable trollop! What Father ever saw in her to begin with is beyond comprehension! Seriously, Edmund, can we not liquidate any of my assets?”

“Sorry, Carter. You’re broke.” [Author’s note: make that 4 times.]

So that is how I arrived at this godforsaken street in this most perilous neighborhood. Egad! Who is that yelling?

“You can’t do this to me! I’ve never been behind on my rent! Why are you evicting me?”

Clicking the heavy padlock shut, a uniformed man shakes his head. “Sorry, Miss. I know it’s not your fault, but your landlord defaulted on his mortgage. The building’s
in foreclosure.”

“Well, can’t I get my things? At least let me get my stuff. . .”

“Sorry. No trespassing by order of the Sheriff’s Department.”

“Trespassing! How the am I trespassing? I [bleep]-ing live here!”

Oh, can this day become any more wretched? Now this miserable pauper woman is approaching me!

“Excuse me, Sir, is this seat taken?” Without waiting for an answer, she sits down on the curb next to me. “What’re ya? Lost?”

“Indeed.”

“Can’t remember where you parked your car?”

“No, I have seen neither hide nor hair of my chauffeur.”

“Chauffeur? I guess you are in the wrong damn ‘hood! Listen, Mister, you don’t know me from Adam, but uh, I’ve got myself into a kind of situation here. I don’t have a place to [bleep]in’ sleep tonight! I gotta haul my [bleep] down to Social Services. . .”

“Good grief, Madam, are you telling me that you’re about to become a parasite upon the government? Don’t you have any family? Any friends?”

“Nope. No fam, no friends. In the words of the great philosopher, Ignatius J. Reilly, ‘I mingle with my peers or no one, and since I have no peers, I mingle
with no one. ‘ So, um, how’s about it? Can you lend me a buck for the bus?”

“ I never carry any currency.”

“No dough on you? Oh, that’s right. You’re rich. But if I were you, I’d get the hell out of here. It’s not the safest place to be. You can come with me if you want, but we’ll have to ankle it.”

Actor: “Hey! I know you! You’re Jarred Zeber, long-time shortstop for my favorite team!
Celebrity Spokesperson: “Aw, you recognized me out of uniform!”
Actor: “But, Jarred, I never would have pegged you as a [B]Freud Fracas driver! You’re
a multi-millionaire! I thought you owned a Bentley or some pricey driving machine!
Celebrity Spokesperson: Well, ya thought wrong! I’m drive a Freud Fracas so all
my fans will want to get a Freud Fracas too! All my fans drive Freud Fracases! So if you’re a Jarred Zeber fan, go out and buy a Freud Fracas! Today!

Rather than to remain on the street alone I have accompanied the foul-mouthed slattern
to a county government office which I regret to say is located in even less respectable surroundings. The social services person calls my new traveling companion’s name: “Sheboygan Summers?” “Sheboygan Summers!” Good God! Is that her name or a travelogue?

“Did you bring your social security card, your birth certificate, your past rent receipts, notice of eviction, your work resume, your –“

“Who carries all that around! Didn’t the three people I spoke to this morning tell you –there’s a [bleep]in’ padlock on my building! My papers are all locked up inside my apartment! What am I supposed t’ do? Ask the rats to fax ‘em to ya?”

“Well, we can’t process your application without the proper documentation. Sorry, Miss. You can try the food pantry next door. . .Next! Are you next, Sir?”

“I? Goodness, no, Madam! Far be it from me to burden the nation’s taxpayers with my personal misery!”

“Good for you, Sir! Responsible people like you are what makes this country great!”

Now we are in a place that must’ve have come from the pages of Dickens, a “food pantry," apparently. “Oh, this is just great,” she says in a tone that does not express gratitude. “Just what I always needed. A fifteen-pound plastic bag of macaroni. Where am I supposed t’ cook it? On the [bleep]in’ street corner?”

Endeavoring to be helpful, I remove a large and heavy metal container from the dusty shelf. There is no label, but there is a not unattractive vignette of a piglet imprinted on the front of the can. Again, this woman is an ingrate. “Shredded pork? I don’t care if it is from the [bleep]in’ USDA. Jeez, I’d [bleep]in’ starve to death before I ate that [bleep]!”

“Well, what about this– a healthy block of government surplus cheese food? Observe the lovely orange color. My word, served with a little Chablis it wouldn’t be half-bad. . “

“Thanks, but the last time I ate that crap I got sick.”


Voice-Over a scene of daisy-filled pasture in which a gauzily-clad woman romps:
“You’ve tried various dosings before, you’ve had medicine, but you still have symptoms.
Perhaps it’s time to try Blastitol. Blastitol is available by prescription only and should not be used while driving, operating heavy machinery, eating, sleeping, or breathing. Blastitol is not intended for women who are pregnant or nursing, and men and women who are alive today due to the result of any pregnancy in the past. Possible side effects include dry mouth, wet mouth, wet
pants, and foul language. Blastitol should not be combined with any other dosing.
So ask your doctor if Blastitol is right for you – and while you’re at it, ask him what the hell Blastitol is for.”


“Well, perhaps Miss Summers, asking the government to help you is not appropriate at the present time. Perhaps you should try pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps!”
What is this? A hand-held microphone?

“Mr. Carter Farquar Wentworth IV? I’m TV’s own Krudsen Wurster, of “Prank’d!” And you, sir, have just been prank’d!”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“It’s all a prank, Mr. Wentworth! You’re not broke at all! In fact, you’re just as filthy rich as you’ve always been!

“Hrummph. Well, this is highly inappropriate, but I shall tell you, young man, I have learned, as one says, ‘my lesson.’ “

“Really. So tell me, Mr. W., now that you been Prank’d, what the first thing you’re going to do? Give back to the community and those less fortunate than yourself?”

“If you’ll excuse me, I must dash. I do have to telephone my financial adviser–“

“So you can help the poor?”

“Good heavens, no. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from this unfortunate experience, it’s to examine one’s portfolio and diversify!”

Roll credits. Wurster: “Hey, somebody find that chick! She’s gotta sign a [bleep]in’ release form!”

Voice-over: Now here’s a scene from next week’s show.

“So you see, Mr. Frump, if you let us shave your head on camera , we’ll get HUGE ratings, and--”

[B]CLICK!

[DickZ]

Thanks for another carefully-crafted work, Auntie. I keep hoping some of the other writers here will follow your lead on how much effort you put into your stories, but I don’t think this message ever really sinks in to anybody’s skull around this forum. People just keep cranking out stuff that looks like it took them all of three minutes to produce.

Mr. Wentworth’s language and wording explaining his demise paints such a clear picture of him and his situation that I think I’m finally starting to understand what you mean when you say “show don’t tell.” And then Ms. Summers’ character does the same thing – her language and wording give a fantastic image of what she’s all about – much better than could be carved with a long explanatory paragraph that accompanies her initial appearance in the story.

And your little intervening commercials add a masterful touch. It's too bad none of the actual commercials in today's TV are that short, though.

You’re probably too young to remember it, but there was a television series called The Millionaire that ran from 1955-60 that had a similar premise to that in the the upcoming show you mention, and your story. And back then, a million dollars went a lot further than it goes today, despite the fact that it would go pretty darned far even today.

Here’s a site that sells DVDs of that old series. And no, I'm not trying to get a commission from DVD sales. If you scroll down a little, you'll see an assessment of the series (there's only one showing and that one is frequently changed, so hit MORE to see additional comments):

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0047758/

[AuntShecky]

Thanks for your comment. Re: the classic "Millionaire" TV
series, I'm definitely NOT "too young" to have remembered it, but since we were the last family on the block to get a television set, I remember Marvin Miller (who bore a striking physical resemblance to former U.S. Homeland Security Chief Tom Ridge) and the millionaire himself, John Beresford Tipton, whose face viewers never saw but we heard his voice, a la "Charlie" on "Charlie's Angels."

My little satiric story here was written strictly for laughs, but I'm going to climb up on a soapbox for a little while in hopes that it might open a serious discussion:

If you have a chance, do a Internet search of "Ignatius J. Reilly," the "philosopher" whom Sheboygan Summers quotes in the story. You find that Ignatius actually existed, at least in the world of fiction. You'll learn the sad story of what happened before the novel in which Ignatius appeared finally got published.

With that quotation I was trying to make two points. It's an allusion to the tragedy of Ignatius's creator, but the more importantt point is that it is the so-called "lower class" character, despite her salty language -- not the millionaire -- who is more likely to have an intellectual life.

From the plutocrat's point of view, the worst thing society can do is educate the poor. When a poor person sees those broadened intellectual horizons, two things happen. First of all, he or she is less likely to accept his or her lowly position on the economic totem pole. Secondly, an education is -- supposedly -- a ticket out of a lifetime of dead-end jobs toward a career and increasingly better financial circumstances.(But some of us are living proof that such a myth is not always true.) Of course, there are Horatio Alger-type cases of poor boys making good, but these rags-to-riches tales are the rare exception to the rule. Part of the reason for this is that the best opportunities fall into the laps of the well-connected, through the "old boy network," the dirty little secret of nepotism, and the truth of the frustrating cliché, "It's not what, but who you know." Again, this goes back to Ignatius's author, whose tragic death, according to some, may have been a result of rejection from publishers.

Recent -- very recent -- studies have shown that in my country at least, 1% of the population hoards 90% of the nation's wealth. The ruling class will go out of its way to tighten its grip on its wealth by any means necessary. Whenever anyone brings up the inherent injustice of this economic disparity, he or she is accused of "trying to promote class warfare."

For all we know, the upcoming Fox series may prove to be a ratings hit and give some viewers a faint sense of hope (akin to buying a Lottery ticket), but let's face it, the show is based on a lie. I don't know any millionaires personally, but from what I can gather, would most of them be willing to forego their wealth for any period longer than a week. Would they ever give it ALL away, permanently, like St. Francis did?

And while there are several wealthy people who do indeed make billions of dollars in charitable donations (such as Bill Gates and his wife,as well as Warren Buffet, and the wonderful people who support the arts and PBS and various educational institutions), some --not ALL -- do not deign to help those beneath them on the totem pole to such an extent to make society more equitable. I don't mean doling out hand-outs, like Lady Bountiful or John D. Rockefeller with his dimes; I mean relinguishing their strangle-hold on financial resources and power.

[1n50mn14]

This made me chuckle right out loud. I loved it because I could actually SEE Carter's distress and his facial expressions.

[mosimo]

As the story goes it was a good story yet I think it would have been better if it had been told from the point of view of the woman rather than the millionaire. You leave the desired outcome of the story too much to be assumed if you told the story from the point of the woman including the part where she was obviously hired to pretend to be evicted you would be able to bring up that aspect sooner and the fact that at the end it comes out that it does not really change the millionaires out look on life would be more evident.

On the discussion that 1 percent of the population of the US holds the wealth what really is wrong with that. Money is not what brings happiness. The problem with the outlook in the US is that too many people think that they deserve to be rich because they were born in the US. I am rich because I worked for every cent in my pocket. I am not rich according to your standards because I don't even make a five digit number yearly. But I am completely debt free and plan on staying that way. I really feel sorry for those people who do have more money they know what to do with. They truly are poor because many of them have not worked for anything in their life.

[AuntShecky]

As the story goes it was a good story yet I think it would have been better if it had been told from the point of view of the woman rather than the millionaire. You leave the desired outcome of the story too much to be assumed if you told the story from the point of the woman including the part where she was obviously hired to pretend to be evicted you would be able to bring up that aspect sooner and the fact that at the end it comes out that it does not really change the millionaires out look on life would be more evident.

Actually, it was not the girl's fault that she was being evicted but as a result of her landlord's negligence. She paid her rent, but the building was foreclosed.

When the"prank" was revealed, wanted her to sign a release form, which is standard practice, after the fact when people are filmed without prior knowledge. Had she been "hired" to participate in the prank, all of the legal
consent forms would have already been taken care of.
On the discussion that 1 percent of the population of the US holds the wealth what really is wrong with that.

What is wrong with it is the inequity. It does not seem
fair or just to me that a tiny percentage of a country's total population should hoard all of the resources.
Money is not what brings happiness.

True, but lack of money brings misery.The problem with the outlook in the US is that too many people think that they deserve to be rich because they were born in the US. I am rich because I worked for every cent in my pocket. I am not rich according to your standards because I don't even make a five digit number yearly. But I am completely debt free and plan on staying that way. I really feel sorry for those people who do have more money they know what to do with. They truly are poor because many of them have not worked for anything in their life.

Well, I am happy that you are comfortable in your situation
and is commendable that you are debt free. You are very fortunate. Not everybody believes that he or she "deserves" to be rich. What we do believe that we deserve is an equal break, a chance at the
pursuit of happiness. Such things are guaranteed in our country's sacred documents. When the plutocracy keeps the doors slammed shut, and the opportunities dry up,
that's when citizens should worry.

It is absolutely, uncategorically WRONG to say that people are poor because they don't work. Many people have worked all their lives in a job, only to have the company "downsize" or ship all of the jobs overseas. Some folks work two or three jobs and because the minimum wage is tragically insufficient to cover basic needs, they are still unable to make ends meet.

Please read up on this topic. I strongly suggest Nickel and Dimed to Death by Barbara Ehrenreich:
http://www.smallcommunity.org/readings/nickelanddimed.asp

[mosimo]

Well, I am happy that you are comfortable in your situation
and is commendable that you are debt free. You are very fortunate. Not everybody believes that he or she "deserves" to be rich. What we do believe that we deserve is an equal break, a chance at the
pursuit of happiness. Nevertheless you are treating happiness and money as the same thing. I have seen a lot of people who are happy with "poverty level incomes" not because of the money they get but because they are surrounded by people who love them and would willingly share their last piece of bread with me if I did not have anything to eat Such things are guaranteed in our country's sacred documents. When the plutocracy keeps the doors slammed shut, and the opportunities dry up,
that's when citizens should worry.People should worry when people are unwilling to sacrifice their own comfort to allow someone else a bit of comfort. One should not complain that they are not giving to me but rather one should look back and see how have i given to others less fortunate than I. It would be majorly detrimental if all the millionaires would give up their wealth because not only would people who don't know how to work a minimum wage job be required to work one but also many people would suddenly have more money than they know what to do with.

It is absolutely, uncategorically WRONG to say that people are poor because they don't work. Many people have worked all their lives in a job, only to have the company "downsize" or ship all of the jobs overseas. Some folks work two or three jobs and because the minimum wage is tragically insufficient to cover basic needs, they are still unable to make ends meet.Maybe they cannot make ends meet because their ends are too big. Do they really need two cars or even one for that matter? Do they need to be the only person living in their three bedroom house or for that matter their studio apartment? For many the problem is they can make it on their own. You cannot even if you do make it you wont have meaning for your life.

Please read up on this topic. I strongly suggest Nickel and Dimed to Death by Barbara Ehrenreich:
http://www.smallcommunity.org/readings/nickelanddimed.aspThe problem here is not that people are earning to little it is that there is no longer any sense of community in the US any more. If you are thrown out on your back you have to pick yourself back up it is your only option there is no one to help you.
Let me just ask this one question are you really complaining about the fact that millionaires have more money then they know what to do with or is it that you think that they do not deserve the money they have because you have just as much right to it as them?
About your other statements that lack of money brings misery I am living proof that that is incorrect. What produces misery is when you do not get what you think you have a right to. Innocence is bliss.

[Captain Pike]

Oh, and ah, back to the story, just for a minute... I think the "commercials" coming in and interrupting the story is a rather clever little have-some-fun-ism. Kind of like the old tale, "The Prince and the Pauper", turned inside out, or something.

I read the whole thing. It's nice to be entertained. I don't want get involved in this "discussion". I do have some opinion, however. Oh look, it's the oilman, coming in to do a delivery here at my house on the lake. I have to stay here because, we are buying a house that is in "short sale" status -- the previous owners went broke, and we are able to steal this great house at a bargain price we, but it takes a little longer than we had thought. My tank was nearly empty, so the bill will be around 700 bucks -- glad I held off till the prices went down. It's like buying warmth futures.

[Just came from rolling outside to talk with the oilman and take in a little afternoon sun. It took 180 gallons at $2.64 per gallon.]

If it weren't for his coming over, I wouldn't have had a chance to get outside -- I haven't got ADA handles on the door yet. It's always something.

Anyway, all I have is dial-up access out here in the forest. You know, my living out here, by myself for long periods of time, so far from other people, is almost like some kind of disabled Indiana Jones adventure. After all, if I got stuck outside there somewhere, say, down by the water, it would be a long time for anyone would hear me or notice me -- I could freeze to death.

Stories about odd juxtapositions -- people suddenly thrust into new and unknown worlds, makes for good reading. Take my life (please! Pardon the Henny Youngman), for example: back in a previous life, I was a hotshot software engineer, living, if you can call it that, pretty much hand to mouth -- check to check -- I didn't have a pot to..., you know the deal. Now, I'm unemployed, most of my body is paralyzed and I sit here in a wheelchair, writing and gazing out at this placid lake where a brilliant display of fall foliage has just passed -- I'm the luckiest guy alive -- the richest man in town (I don't think anybody actually lives in this unorganized township right now, except me).

There are all kinds of ways to look at a thing. Perhaps wealth really is more a measure of how well we can look at things, than anything else. Today, I have more stuff and choices then I've ever had before.

[Just took a look at the stock market. Mosaic just hit a new low of 30.77, Saskatchewan Potash, similarly slighted at a pitiful 69.72! Why, three months ago it was over 200.]

It sure is a good thing that I don't get my self-esteem from my stock market picks!

[AuntShecky]

Thanks for your comment, Capt. Pike! We used to visit Maine, and I loved it. But the folks we visited there no longer live there.
We used to live in the country as well, and I miss it so much.
Don't miss the "dial up" internet and the high cost of heating oil, though!
An earlier story of mine, "Free and Clear" on the net dealt w. th problems of buying a house.

http://www.online-literature.com/forums/showthread.php?p=624516#post624516