It's lonely in the Black 1% - Welp!

This is something I didn't expect because, hey, the few that there are, if they are lonely...Hang together! Anyhoo, The mimi-interviews offered in the segment affirm the nasty, little open secret that floats through the world of the stinking rich.

The nasty open secret? It's terribly segregated. That even in that supposedly-learned, intelligent, color-blind cocoon, the Whites there can be, and are, as rabidly racist as their poor or working-class counterparts. They just do it with a rye-and-water in one hand as they smirk and ring for Jeeves.

This tiny CNN Money segment highlights financier Eddie C. Brown and his wife Sylvia, and Sheila C. Johnson. Let's just say that they could buy and sell Guam a few times BEFORE breakfast. That's how loaded they are. But as they recount, no matter how rich, they will ALWAYS only be seen as Black.

See. I'm so weird that that wouldn't bother me. Number One? It's true! Number Two? I harken back to the words of my late grandfather. "I don't want to eat with no folk who might poison my food!"

So, I say, Black 1%? Make that money. Be comfy. No crime in that. Give back to where you came from. As for the rye-and-water drinkers? Do business. Be civil. Keep your dignity but under your breath tell 'em to go kick rocks.

http://money.cnn.com/2016/10/14/news/economy/black-1-unstereotyped/index.html

P. S. my personal experience with the uber-rich came when I attended college. Little, old, poor, scholarship me (you know the students who weren't 'legacy'; the ones who couldn't afford to coast on the fumes of prior wealthy generations who'd attended; the students who HAD to study) went to this all-women's college in the NE. A place as idyllic as the brochure. A place where some students return to campus came in the form of a stretch  limo, an entourage and a flurry of professional movers. Oh, yes. The first few Septembers during my attendance, the campus grounds were awash in beehived, chain-smoking "Millicents" swathed in pearls and twinsets; the "Rogers" were in tweed and bourbon breath.

I discovered then, as I stood gripping my best, vinyl Woolworth handbag, and watched the Return-of the-Spawn -of-the-Masters-of-the-Universe,  that the rich, oh man, they really are different.