You can't take it with you.
“You can’t take it with you,” is an oft quoted bon mot, normally delivered with ponderous wisdom by those who invariably don’t have “the filthy lucre.”
I take issue with both expressions.
Let’s start with the latter. If “filthy lucre” normally implies money obtained by dishonest means; then, despite being employed by such disparate authorities ranging from: The Bible (Titus 1:11), to Plutarch’s “Lives” and even Rider Haggard; I would consider it today a more throwaway expression.
It has a close relative in “filthy rich;” embracing a hint of jealously bordering on a complement.
Which takes us back to “taking it with you.” Being an Englishman, we have a system of taxes in my country that hits your kids hard with regards to a reasonable inheritance, (40% Inheritance Tax, 7 year rules on gifts, and now Teresa May trying her hand at the dementia tax for long term elderly care.)
Of course you can spend it all before you slake off your mortal coil, but then who knows when that is?
Frederick Forsyth had the originality of imagination in one of his stories, of a very rich man, (unmarried, no kids), who was diagnosed with a terminal illness.
He chose to be buried in the deepest part of the North Sea, and his grasping relatives were obliged to attend on board ship before the will was read in Portsmouth.
It was rough seas, many were sick, and when the will was read he bequeathed items like his stamp collection to his brother, his garden tools to his nephews etc.
Of money there was nothing.
His relatives employed a private investigator to see where the original wealth went and it came up with the finding that he had brought a considerable amount of gold and visited a foundry.
When that coffin slid into the ocean’s depths, was it made of solid gold? Did he in fact take it with him?
An interesting take.
