We had a really good meeting yesterday at work. It gave me a lot of confidence that I should have a big addition to my small pile of money within 5 years. So I indulged in a scenario in which I pull down a fortune. My cut is 7 million.
I haven't actually done the math but it occurs to me that a lot of things wouldn't change much. I could only see a half dozen things to worry about that I don't have answers for. And it helps that my analyst was telling me that I'm handling things. I am. So I went shopping for $2MM homes here in LA County. I was surprisingly picky. When you get over 1.5MM and stay below 3MM there's not as much choice as you might think. And beyond the choice of marble or wood floors and the fabulousity of your kitchen, landscaping and yard amenities make a hell of a difference. As I shopped, it was immediately apparent who had professional interior design help and who didn't. Suddenly, the whole raft of half million dollar houses I've been eyeballing for the past five years came into focus, as well as the importance of friends.
I'm reading 'A Gentleman in Moscow' and it's painfully beautiful. But it reminds me of what I'm thinking when I look at these houses. For me, it's really about the conversations I would be having in its social spaces and the parties the Spousal Unit would be able to throw. Can I or can I not have a jazz quartet in the backyard? What does it mean to live exactly that large? It also occurs to me that this kind of stuff is accomplished in short order, and that people are very unlikely to undergo any personal changes in order to accomplish this level of affluence. I assess that for most people, it's done by age 40 and the rest is shabby gentility without much of the gentility. The sewers carry the same smells, no matter what the address. The interwebz carry the same traffic. If you were X before, you're going to be X after.
And then it was very obvious that getting the Porsche would be trivial.