At One Time, Being a Millionaire Was Good

There was a time when being a millionaire seemed possible and an altogether attainable goal. The lure of being in charge of a “thousand thousand” dollars would put me on top of the world for the rest of my days.
Was this not, after all, the land of opportunity, where the streets, although tarnished by filth, were still paved with gold? Such were immigrants’ dreams as they left pogroms in far away places to enjoy a life of freedom in this land of the free.
Wealth seemed to hold all the trappings a young man could want, easy living in a home designed by this budding architect, a 1965 Rolls Royce Silver Cloud (owner driven) in the garage, and freedom to do whatever I fancied. I always vowed that life; as a millionaire would not change me, only make things more attainable. I would not need to pay insurance, because my father told me he would never spend a penny on any insurance, “If I had money.”
Over six decades later, the dream never fully materialized. There is no one to blame by myself, but what I see happening in my country is making me wonder what life would have been like had I fully attained that dream.
Having money, lots of it, was always part of this dream we call America. Even if you could not speak English very well, and you made delicious donuts and an outstanding cup of coffee, and you wanted to work hard from before sunrise until after the sun sets, and you were shrewd, you could make money. And a lot of people did exactly that.
Other people, who were skilled in money management, and who had resources and a keen insight, were similarly free to make lots of money. As long as they were willing to pay the government its income tax, no one cared.
Then, along came a generation of have nots and wannabes. They didn’t really have the ambition to work like dogs to make a buck, nor did they care to invest wisely and make their money work for them.
Slowly, the notion of “having money” became offensive, not to the well heeled, but to those who viewed nice homes and cars and well-educated children as something to be spurned by the masses.
Politicians, who had their ear to the ground, began to put two and two together, and they read the feeling of the masses. They were angered because they had not, nor did they see any way to easily get it.
So, to spread ointment over the hurt, a balm for the “common man” it became fashionable in politics to begin to increase taxes on the rich. After all, they could well afford a few more percentage points off their fatted accounts, or so reasoned the black-suited mavens of the political backrooms.
The unwashed masses adored the idea to tax the rich and shift the burden off their backs. The poor, who we were Biblically instructed we would have with us, always, saw it as a way of “getting even.”
“We don’t have it, so neither should they,” became the unwritten mantra of the underclass. Politicians saw the writing on the wall, and parlayed that hatred of the wealthy into ever more complicated ways to tax “the rich.”
The definition of “rich” is not easy to find. For recent taxable issues, which take aim to knock the well to do out of their mansions, it seems our beloved Uncle Sam has drawn the line at incomes of $250,000 a year or greater.
If all “the rich” lined up on one side of the Mississippi, and all “the poor” lined the other side, it would probably be pretty easy to see which one had more votes. That group would, understandably, get the attention of those who control the power in Washington, D.C.
In China, I believe there was a euphemism for something like this that was known as “agrarian reform.” By any other name, it would be called redistribution of wealth. But this is America, and that cannot happen. Who could complain? If the masses have not, and want, should not the “haves” be forced to give up their vaunted wealth so all could share the benefits? That seems to be the modern way of thinking.
The trouble with that line of thinking is, it’s simply un-American. But do not, I repeat, do not expect that to be uttered by any elected official. One word of that, and their political fate would be doomed.
To put it bluntly, this line of thinking will drill more holes in the deck of our exalted ship of state. Without seeing the benefit of reward for hard work, where will the next generation find itself?
Why should anyone toil to be come a millionaire if the fruit of their labor will merely be siphoned away by lecherous taxes to fund “benefit” programs for those who would rather sit and collect a check than to rise up at 4 a.m. and make donuts and coffee?
I cannot say my dream has been shattered, because I’ve enjoyed a good, fulfilling life. I wonder now if it would be worth it all, to be a millionaire, and become nothing but a target for those who would want my money. The only part of the dream that remain unblemished is for that ’65 Silver Cloud, preferably gray and black with leather seats.
If I wait long enough, maybe the price on one will come down, and I can pretend I’m worth a million bucks, and, best of all, not have to pay taxes of a “disgusting” millionaire. Good grief, how things have changed.