I am currently perched at a coffee shop in the Sun Valley Resort, happily surrounded by luxury that provides a rustic, back-country facade sans the effort of actually roughing it, observing children who have been coddled by their parents into believing that it's perfectly normal to climb and jump on furniture and throw tantrums when they do not receive a third cup on $4.00 cocoa.
It's hard to beat the Sun Valley ambiance during the winter season. And, let's face it, what better way to spend Christmas than in a place where condescension and superfluous demands are rewarded?
Just yesterday, a woman with a pointy nose and professorial hair cut entered Iconoclast Books and asked the clerk to help her find a book written in the last year by a female author. The clerk suggested the new Toni Morrison novel.
"I want a book that is, well, good literature, you know . . . " A minute later, after the clerk had made another suggestion, "That looked a little sappy to me. Where do you keep that books have been written in the last year or so?" A few minutes later, upon her husband's approach, I heard her sniff and comment that she was ready to leave, "I'm not making much progress here."
Perfectly understandable. I mean, come on bookstore owners. What good is your business if you can't employ workers who can read the customers' minds, detect their preferences, and meet their requests within minutes of contact? Talk about incompetence!
Last night, while Dan and I relaxed in the Lodge pool, we were interrupted by a hotel guest's tirade regarding a glass Perrier bottle that had been left at the edge of the pool.
"How inconsiderate!" she huffed. "I guess we'll just take it with us since it hasn't been picked up yet."
The sign does after all read "No Food or Drink in the Pool Area," I thought as I watched the noble woman pick up her plastic cup and take a swig of whatever she was drinking.
A few minutes later, a hotel attendant came out to tell all of us that the pool would be closing in eight minutes.
"Does that mean you're going to come back out in five minutes?" the same woman who had been so appalled by other people's inconsideration snorted. "By the way, you might want to throw away this Perrier bottle -- no not that one, that's mine. I can't believe it was left here. That's so dangerous!"
"I thought we were so concerned about being considerate. The way that woman is addressing that worker seems extremely inconsiderate to me," I said, a little too loudly since it solicited a nudge from my husband.
But I was mistaken. Aren't the attendants supposed to cater to the fortunate people who can afford to be there?
Eight minutes later in the locker room, I discovered that no amount of money could hide the fact that the insulted woman was aging and pudgy with pockets of lumpy cellulite on the backs of her thighs. I suppose that's something we all have in common in the end.
I implore you, outlandishly wealthy people, to consider using your resources this Christmas season to make the world easier for others. I implore you to travel to a locale like Sun Valley, not for the sake of prestige, but so that you may stand in awe of its sheer beauty at this time of the year. Instead of searching your soul for enlightenment and God in yourself (judging from the shelves and shelves of "spiritual junk" at the bookstores, there is a lot of this kind of introspection occurring), I implore you to focus that energy on treating others with respect and regarding those who "serve" you as equals. Maybe then, you'll find a portion of the path for which you so ravenously seek.
"I wish for just one time you could stand inside my shoes. You'd know what a drag it is to see you."
-Bob Dylan, Positively 4th Street
