The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

If you didn’t know it before, after this last election, you do now. Billionaires are running the country. Truth be told, they always have, but occasionally we get a President or a Senator who came up from more modest means and worked their way up the social and economic ladder. Not this time in the year of our Lord, 2024. Nobody said life was fair. And yeah, I know, it could be a lot fairer than it is.

What we need to understand about our very very rich overlords is that they are not like you and me. Do you think Donald Trump has ever gone shopping in a Safeway? Maybe get a hankering for a diet Coke after the servants have gone to bed and thought, gee, why wake the cook up, I’ll just pop over to the all night Quickie-Mart and grab a cold one, maybe rub shoulders with some nocturnal citizens, might even chat it up with the Pakistani graveyard shift guy, see what’s on his mind these days. Might buy a Slim Jim while I’m at it….

First of all, these billionaires don’t walk to … well, anywhere. And if you think they drive themselves to that anywhere, smarten up, they summon the chauffeur to fetch the limo or the town car. Buses, taxis, light rail … think some more. The rich don’t use mass transit. They have their own private jets for anything beyond the city limits. These are privileged people. They do not venture into drug stores, they do not shop at Target, they have their people do that stuff. Sure, you say you saw Trump serving hamburgers and fries at MacDonalds’ drive up window, just a regular joe, the guy who called his opponent a liar for claiming she had actually worked at a MacDonalds. C’mon, how gullible are we? They closed that store, put him at the window, handpicked the customers and videotaped the ad. Unless he had his team of accountants with him, he probably couldn’t make change for the ten dollar bill that got pushed at him.

George Bush Sr. tried the plebian act too. Went into a grocery store like nearly every other American, probably figured playing the Common Man would get a few votes, but embarrassed himself at the checkout when he admitted he’d never seen a scanning machine before. Apparently they don’t use scanning devices in the mansions of the rich. And even more apparently he’d never been shopping in a store that had one.

No, my friend, the rich are a bit different. They don’t know what the price of milk is, what a dozen eggs go for, how much hamburger costs a pound, what a gallon of gas is at the pump. They don’t have to. But when they tell you they feel your pain, well, they don’t feel any pain at all. They have someone on staff for that.

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