Two Tribes.

In a rare moment I watched an item last night on the Looney Lords of England. You have to love that level of dignified insanity, the selective cross breeding of hundreds of years, and the end result. One thing was mentioned by a certain snot nosed little skid mark, the ‘new money’ people. I had to agree with the young Lord Sidney Snot. It is something that frequently leaves me completely gob smacked.

The new money people are all over the place, and a lot of them don’t even have the money, they might have a few trophy pieces, i.e. large house, cars, even horses and a bit of land, or they might have more than one house, be dripping in bling, and be sending the offspring to some obscenely expensive school, but at the end of the day, they are sitting down to baked beans on toast for dinner when no one is looking because that is all that is in the kitchen. What the new money people do have in buckets is absolutely no sense of humour. Even some people with an average house on an average bit of land like to lump themselves in with this crowd. Adopting some quasi sense of upper class to the rest of the sweating masses, often the folks living on the same street who happen to be renting. Now I was lucky enough to have a father that instilled a lot of the ‘old school’ rules into my upbringing, in other words I have forgotten more about black belt etiquette than a lot know. Watching these wanna be little lords and ladies has been no end of fun for me over the years. However recently being told I didn’t know what I was talking about when it came to basic rules regarding R.S.V.P’s did give me a moment to grind my teeth in frustration.

I am sure we all at least know one or two of these types. The ‘new money’ love to ‘share’ with you their recent trip to where ever, and often neglecting to point out they took out a massive loan to even get on the plane. Or you get the royal decree to turn up for dinner, and inside the McDonalds Mansion, which does look the part on the outside, is basically a bare shell on the inside, all the money being taken up on the mortgage and therefore furniture is conveniently left out. The excuse often being, for decorating purposes, they are going for a ‘minimalist’ look. Well they get that right, a telephone sitting on the floor in an otherwise naked room is about as ‘minimalist’ as you can get. On the other hand, I was once in a house where the man of the house was so obsessed with impressing the world he hadn’t noticed his wife had become a compulsive eater and his son had quietly slipped into alcoholism. The house looked fabulous, the very latest of everything. Even in a high end decorating magazine it would have stood out a mile. It was also one of the coldest and saddest places I have ever been in. I once knew a lady whose whole life revolved around trying to convince everyone of her station in life. Problem was, the more she tried the more she looked like a try hard. It was almost painful to watch, but seeing as she had decided I did not belong in her class any attempt to even subtly help her was met with open ridicule and hostility. So I let her go on her own way, sat back and watched the faces of others when she showed herself up, often in the most embarrassing ways.

It all sort of came together over the past couple of days, the great divided between the haves, and the have nots.

The day before I had the chance to observe two very different groups that lived within what is really a few kilometres of each other. One shopping centre was happy to have the thirty year old plus concrete swept and clean. The other shopping centre had carpet, polished wooden flooring etc. One had a few struggling stores, the other had at least one of every type imaginable plus the obligatory boutiques.

In both places there were some similar types. The first one that comes to mind is the mutton dressed as lamb, it seems it doesn’t matter where you live, not being able to face you are no longer nineteen and still dressing like one is across the board. With more or less the same results. The pretty young things, all dressed to announce they are young, but legal, and ready for the world, as long as it doesn’t mess with their over done make-up and hair. The boys or the peacocks as I like to call them, all trying to look cool, but praying no one actually confronts them, because they are all scared to death of being beaten to a pulp. The list goes on. But in the poorer place I also noticed things that were not present at the wall to wall carpet shopping centre.

• An old lady smiling at me and moving over on a bench so that I too could sit down.

• Young couples, too poor to afford the latest NASA designed pram, holding their babies, and the babies looking content and happy.

• An old man, a total stranger walking up and complimenting my daughter on her manners towards me.

• A woman my age, in a Zimmer frame, obviously in pain, obviously having huge difficulty walking, but never the less, slowly and painfully walking, determined to make her way on her own steam.
  

Later that same day, sitting in the ‘better class’ shopping centre, I saw none of this. Sure everyone was dressed in newer and more fashionable clothing. The latest runners, flash watches, dripping in bling, the works. But as for the human side, I could literally feel the desperation, these people seemed concerned with one thing. Fitting into this imaginary quasi new money class. All with a somewhat desperate look on their faces, as if they were only concerned with one thing, that others were noticing them. In the end no one was noticing anything. I had a feeling of incredible loneliness there. There were hundreds of lonely people around me, it rubbed off.

If ever I needed proof that money, any amount of money, doesn’t buy happiness, this was it. Long ago I walked away from belonging to any particular class of people. Not even in high school did I feel the need to be part of group, it never made sense to me. I have never really fitted into a particular group anyway, something I am extremely grateful for. Because of this, one of the things I treasure in life is the ability of sitting still and watching the passing parade. No matter where I am. When you don't belong to any particular tribe, you tend to see things far more clearly.