The hills and thrills of wealth

In the hills I'm a house sitter for a summer. A family friend and family is off to their Brazilian home for three months. Left to me is a wonderful and equally scary looking German Shepard named Misha, a music studio which is locked and a pool that is perched high above the lay mans Hollywood. It's an eccentric set up that has blasted me right into the neighborhood of the elite. The sought out Hollywood Hills is prime property to the stars and professionally equivalent alike. Every morning, I walk outside to see the Hollywood sign, iconic and larger then life. I jog with plastic surgery patients and pass 100,000 dollar cars on the way to my "home"" each day.

All of this has been absolutely amazing in building my self esteem, feeling part of the elite, driving up the long narrow and curvy streets enlisting a sense of privilege and entitlement within my hidden rich kid. This attitude is shared by all in the hills, you can tell by the way they plow through stop signs and jog in the middle of the road. It's a thing here in the Hollywood hills. The rich and beautiful enjoying a sort of guarded and secret life full of the freedom and boundless paths.

Wealth in America, is royalty. There is no splitting it two ways. With the absence of the kings of Britain and dictators of our eastern neighbor we have but one way to show our status and feel a sense of importance; that comes in the form of monetary accomplishments. Bluntly speaking if you have a jag you can cut in front of others on the 101 and if you are wearing you designer sunglasses and a large over sized hat you can push ahead of others at the market or effortlessly reach for and secure the last Times newspaper at the airport.

I'm not here to hate the wealthy because I have high hopes of joining their ranks one of these days. This is simply an observation, one that highlights said entitlement which feels innately part of what makes one wealthy in the first place. Without guilt without remorse, simply taking with a sense that "it is mine and I deserve it."
Blind eyed to the world.

One day I may be seen driving up the hills in a gray Porsche, to my alarm code home with a view. Smiling and being the first one through the stop sign, not because I am rude but because I am most certainly rich.