Hello Brooklyn, Goobye Brooklyn...

I was born and raised in Park Slope. For several years after I got out of the military though, I lived in a tiny one-room apartment in a then-ghetto building on Carlton and Flatbush Avenues, just across Flatbush Avenue from Park Slope, in what's called Prospect Heights. I rented that place for $600 a month from a Hasidic Jew landlord.

I was the only Caucasian in the building at that time. The rest of the building was black. A drug-dealing bum lived in the hallway. I used to watch him smoke crack and freak hookers through my peephole at 3am.

When I went overseas for the second time, I subletted the tiny apartment to my friend. Unfortunately, during that time, the building was sold. The new landlord kicked everyone out, including my sublet (I wasn't able to come back to try to resist). He renovated the entire building, and then re-rented it out. Now the entire thing is full of white yuppies paying almost $4,000 a month rent. My old tiny room on the first floor is now an 'office,' being used by two tussled-hair, black-frame-eyeglass hipster/yups with laptops (I walked by and looked).

After Google-ing my old address, something came up - apparently the original drummer for the 'Mighty Mighty Bosstones' now lives in my old building as well. He appears to be some yup photographer who takes 'creative photos' for car ads. You can see his website here: http://www.dalsimerphoto.com/

You know, it's funny... I mean I never really considered myself a fan of the 'Mighty Mighty Bosstones.' However, in the past, I would think that meeting their original drummer would be pretty cool and interesting.
Now that I've heard that this guy is living in my old building with a dozen other yup tenants, he seems like the most uninteresting individual on the planet to me, along with all of the rest of them. Two-dimensional.

I need to know, are these people really what the rest of white America has always been like? Did I grow up in some sort of inner-city, white working-class bubble, that misled me into believing that most white people have character and heart? That most white people are real and genuine? That all those 'white stereotypes' you hear black people making about us weren't really true? You know, the nasally voice, the goofy walk, the lack of anything interesting about them.

The longer I withstand this yup/hipster invasion, the more I realize that I didn't grow up 'white' after all. I couldn't have. At least not in the sense that the rest of the country grew up white. Us and them, we are nothing alike.

Paper Chasin'

So being though I happen to have been born and raised in the middle of what now has mutated into one of the most status-obsessed neighborhoods in New York City (and probably the country), Park Slope, Brooklyn, where two-dimensional yuppie slimeballs and suburban hipster privileged kids are streaming in in larger numbers as each day passes, one of the topics I often find myself thinking (obsessing?) about is wealth, class, and how it all breaks down in the long run.

Being rich. Who doesn't want to be rich? Seriously, even those among us who prefer to live a minimalist lifestyle, we all must agree that having more than enough money to get what you want/need is always a good feeling.

With regards to the bigger picture though, I've been thinking a lot lately about the greater benefits that come along with being rich - the trans-generational benefits. Obviously one can only 'enjoy' wealth for a limited time, since we all leave this planet eventually. That's why one thing we talk a lot about in property class is wills, trusts, and estates - really, really, rich people trying as hard as they can to pass their wealth down to their family for as many generations as they can, and the law, predictably (until recently) trying hard to counter those efforts.

Now, many people's first reaction is "what's wrong with that?" Why shouldn't a man want his children, and their children, to be the ones to benefit from his hard work? Partly, I would have to agree.

It seems like one of the basic motivations a man has to strive to be successful in life, is to provide for his family. If that means he ends up accumulating enough wealth to be passed down for generations, well then all the better. I can understand that.

Now, what I'm wondering is, why will 'having more wealth' automatically make those later generations better off than anyone else? What I'm trying to say is, is there really that much of a difference, happiness-wise, between a child who's born to parents who are worth $60,000, and a child born to parents who are worth $16 million?

Really think about it - what is so much better about growing up/reaching adulthood with money to throw around, than without?

When I look around now at those who grew up the way I grew up (lower working class, no savings), and those who grew up on the Upper East Side or wherever to rich parents, outside of 'status' (which is bullshit anyway), I just can't figure out what the huge upside is to being raised rich.

So these rich kids got to ride horses in Connecticut or wherever while I was running over used condoms and crack vials in alleyways with my friends. They got to go sailing on some lake somewhere while I was swimming at Coney Island or Breezy Point or Fort Tilden with my parents. They went to obscenely expensive boarding schools and go-away colleges, while I was put through 'inferior' public and Catholic schools, and graduated from CUNY.

So these kids now know how to arrange formal silverware, how to play polo, and how to conduct themselves at 'formal gatherings.' So what?

Does that mean that these kids grew up happier than I did? I don't think so, I had a blast as a kid.
Does it mean that they grew up to be 'better adults'? Hardly - I have yet to meet one of these type individuals whose insights/personality made much of an impression on me.
Sure, they grew up with more social capital, and thus more of a likelihood that they would go on to 'make money,' but that's just circling back around to the same question.

So does it mean they're having more fun than me now? Well...

When I drove a yellow cab in Manhattan for a short while (another story) I got a pretty good glimpse into 'their world.' After picking up and dropping off numerous Manhattan rich-kids-turned-rich-adults, I must say, I wasn't exactly wrought with jealousy. These guys weren't exactly bringing supermodels home with them (although they seemed to think they were).

Same thing when I bounced at a nightclub (another story). I watched these rich guys night after night throwing around thousands of dollars in the VIP section, flirting with the staff and customers, trying to prove how fly they were. After they would go home alone, thinking they were a hot shot after wasting a ton of money buying bottles for girls, I would go home with the shot promotion girl that they were drooling over all night.

Now don't get me wrong - of course I would love to pop into a Lambo dealer and roll out with something like this:


And, of course, I would love to be able to wake up with my girl with a view like this:


Outside of that though? They can keep their restaurants, their country clubs, their golf courses and their "debutante" parties, and all the other benefits of growing up wealthy. I have no interest in it.

Sometimes I feel like if I had more money, I would be able to attract more/better females (my vice). Then I remind myself, I already pull the type of girls that these guys want, and then some. I rarely see some yuppie douchebag or hipster brat walking around with the quality of girl that I want. As for my girls? Well, let's just say they usually turn heads wherever we go.

So when it all comes down to it, although I cried about growing up "disadvantaged" in my law school application, and although it may have been true, am I really that much worse off than those who grew up 'advantaged'? For the most part, I don't see how.