The tyranny of the second home
I was reading in the New York Times this morning about the terrible burden that is placed on affluent New Yorkers when they own a second home in “the country.” I’m putting “the country” in scare quotes because—and this is an observation borne of seven years experience of living in Manhattan—what New Yorkers, bless their sweet, naïve urban hearts, call “the country” is not what the rest of America thinks of as country.
They are talking about the Hamptons or scenic parts of the Hudson River Valley. We are talking about fields of soy beans, hog lots, grain silos, failed crops, and foreclosures.
I learned from the Times this morning that these people have to contend with terrible dilemmas: the question of whether or not to invite weekend guests (the guilt is simply overwhelming if one leaves one’s less affluent friends stuck in the city!), how to find a good contractor to build a cabana for the pool, how to find someone reliable to do the “spring clean-up” on the grounds when you will be in Paris for the spring, and so forth.
I have to admit I remain unmoved.
Perhaps I just wasn’t fully awake and could not appreciate the peculiar trials of the economic elite. I’m sure it will hit me full force around noon, when you’ll hear me say to myself, “Yes, you know, those people neither have children dying in a pointless war in Iraq, nor are they forced to decide between heating or eating, but it certainly is true that it’s getting harder and harder these days to find a servant who can polish the silver properly!”
Chez Balerstein, however, things are going fairly well, in spite of our ongoing struggles to manage our household servants.
I have continued to pack and Alex has continued not to pack, and we have received our first wedding gift:
If I’ve learned one thing from getting married twice, it’s that if you put something on your registry that is in the shape of a heart, people will jump on that like a galloping horse. That said, I love this pot! The people who sent it—although I have never met them—are now my new best friends.
I also made great progress on Nasser’s socks:
Which is a good thing, too, since he is lending me his car again this afternoon so that I can pick up my wedding gown.
The little bit of mohair in the Mountain Colors Bearfoot makes these socks absolutely scruptious. Nasser has been appropriately appreciative in the two sock “fittings” we’ve had thus far. Smart man.
Shelley, meanwhile, continues to beg discreetly during breakfast (lunch, and dinner):
Keep your eyes on the prize.
Have a great weekend everyone! Back with more Bridal Barn updates, I’m sure, next week…
May 18th, 2007 at 12:02 pm
I’ve been lurking for I while, but I just had to comment on this post. I registered and received the same pot for my wedding (now 7.5 yrs ago). I LOVE the pot and use it all the time. It makes a stove that needs cleaning look just a little bit cheerier!
May 18th, 2007 at 12:26 pm
Ellen (and Sarah), your posts almost always make me smile! (I only remember one or two that made me cry…) Thank you so much for being bloggers! That new pot is the best. On moving…I have the same initial response as you do – but every time we’ve moved the actual moving has snuck up on me so that at the last minute I revert to Alex’s way. I think we’re still looking for some items from four moves ago (and we’ve been in this house for 16 years)! Have wonderful weekends – you, Alex, Shelley and Sarah. (not in any particular order)
May 18th, 2007 at 1:39 pm
I love the pot! Very fun. 🙂
May 18th, 2007 at 4:30 pm
Ooh, Le Creuset! Wonderful stuff!
Can I send a comment to Sarah through you? I’m very sorry to hear of her impending divorce (if I read her last post correctly). I get the impression that it’s a good decision, but it can’t possibly be easy.
Your comments about the burdens of wealth remind me of a story you told me years ago, about a financial aid applicant whose family budget included things like “$1000 a month for fresh flowers.” While the cost (in early 90s dollars no less) was mind-boggling, their oblivion was even more astonishing; apparently they did not realize that a family who can afford 1 large a month for flowers might not stack up so well in the Financial Aid Olympics.
May 18th, 2007 at 5:34 pm
Excuse me, but I’d like to know where I can sign up for that kind of problem, ya know?
Nice Le Creuset! 🙂
Also, please don’t hate me because I tagged you for a meme.
May 18th, 2007 at 9:11 pm
Oy, such burdens they have… Gee, wouldn’t it be fun if they got out *waaayy* back in the sticks and had to deal with something like an outhouse with spiders? [veg]
That pot is wonderful. I shall refrain from making the obvious comment; although I do. 😉 So are Nasser’s socks, and I’m glad he’s being properly appreciative, *and* bless him for lending his car again. Shelley, if you don’t stop staring so hard, you’re gonna burn a hole through that bagel. Or Alex.
Since you can’t drink and drive – or at least shouldn’t – I hope you can fortify yourself with chocolate before the dreaded Bridal Barn pilgrimage! (That name still cracks me up. And email coming tomorrow, probably… I’ve suddenly got several to answer, and you know me. [g])
May 18th, 2007 at 10:45 pm
I live and grew up in (in fact my family settled here in 1630) in “the Hamptons” and I have to make a couple of comments –
1 – we have been trying to get a landscaper to clear our back yard (waay overgrown) and while we have gotten a quote that we said ok to – we CANNOT get a date to get the job done from him – does that happen everywhere or is that just a Hamptons thing??
2 – Next week is the official start of the season here – ugh – means shopping mid week early early or late late to be able to get parking places.
3- I remember my Aunt and Uncles place by the water (not palatial – the name was “the coops” and it was originally a chicken coop) did have an outhouse along with spiders and black snakes — ugh. But oh what fun we had there….
4. And as locals who used to work in the service industries out here – you all should have the fun of dealing with some of these folks….
btw — LOVE the pot.
May 18th, 2007 at 11:18 pm
Such problems they have…not!
I see that Shelley is also sure (as is our Gypsy) that her telekinetic powers will work this time.
May 19th, 2007 at 10:05 am
Re: Shelley. Yes! I love the way she never gives up hope that this time it will be different.
I swear that this dog, with her relentless optimism and dogged (heh, heh) determination, would make a good candidate for graduate school.
May 19th, 2007 at 12:52 pm
It must be SO difficult to be independently wealthy. How do they survive?
Hope you made it out of the Bridal Barn unscathed 😉
May 20th, 2007 at 3:24 pm
Yes, but Shelley has a warm, attentive (if strict with the table scraps!) advisor, and a kindly second reader. It’s a highly improbable version of graduate school 😉
So are we going to get to see this dress? (Maybe I missed an earlier picture.)
May 21st, 2007 at 7:39 pm
the correct dog command to Shelly is “avert your eyes” in a strong tone. It only works infrequently at best. wooooooof