Gilded

The end of the latest Gilded Age is so recent that I still have a Daily News with a picture of a five-hundred dollar cheeseburger—or was it a thousand-dollar omelet?—dreamed up by a publicity savvy chef at some bistro or other around the city. These indelicacies were really Joe-basic diner food tricked out with shaved truffles and edible gold leaf, and were mostly consumed by reporters who likely had then to file their stories from the comfort and privacy of small, tiled spaces. The stories cropped up every couple of months or so, increasing in volume and truffles and gold leaf, like the snooze alarm on a clock that said, “IS THIS ANCIENT ROME ENOUGH FOR YOU?”
Update: This Fellow is down with the President on the pay cap. Little fishes, we are really in trouble, aren’t we?
(H/T Betty Cracker)
Now a $500,000 salary cap is supposed to be blowing the truffles off the cheeseburgers for senior executives of companies who got the largest amounts of bail-out money. But what, exactly, exactly, is a “senior executive”? Does only the “senior” executive have to sell his Lockheed? Will junior executives earn more than their bosses? Unless there is a provision for locking CEOs into their corner offices, “downsizing” their positions may become all the rage. Or a new and horrible generation of “consultants” could be spawned. Or perhaps they may start taking on second and third jobs as the simple folk do, when they can find them.
Posted by Mrs. Polly on 02/05/09 at 02:34 PM • Permalink
Categories: I Don't Know Much About Art, But I Know What I Like •

