A Time to Set Aside Childish Things

Ever since I heard Barack Obama's inauguration speech last Tuesday, I have been ruminating on his words — turning them over in my head and re-experiencing the amazement I felt watching him, our first African-American immigrant President, take over the reins of our beleaguered country.  

Among the many thoughts I've had about the speech, one was that I probably wouldn't talk about it here.  It didn't seem appropriate.  That speech is for discussion on blogs on rhetoric, blogs on foreign policy, blogs on social responsibility, history, politics, law.  Not so much for blogs o' snark and righteous indignation.  

Until now.

You see, tonight, at a friend's recommendation, I read this NYT piece about a group of women who have started a support group, Dating A Banker Anonymous.  Along with holding weekly social events, they've also created a blog, DABAgirls.com where they lament their vexed fates with their "FBFs" (Finance Guy Boyfriends) — guys who are losing their deals, their bonuses — and consequently, their abilities to wine and dine their beloveds at $200/plate restaurants.

DABAgirls.com is a veritable gold mine of Marie Antoinettes of the 20-something set.  While their posts are "infused with our own special brand of DABA Girl humor," the blatant and crass materialism seeping through the cheekiness is jaw-dropping:

This whole messy ordeal has advanced my Botox start date by at least two years. Like every other DABA girl, the economy was wreaking havoc on my relationship and youthful good looks. Phone calls went unanswered, Hamptons invitations un-extended, plans canceled (including, but not limited to, expensive opening night tickets to the ballet, which were scalped instead of being graciously offered to me and a galpal), and so forth and so on. Until – the horror of all horrors – my FBF lost his job, which I guess technically downgrades him to just my BF.

Overnight, he went from unavailable to downright clingy. He wants to have dinner every night. By dinner I mean staying in and cooking as Megu is no longer in the budget.

Since Love is defined in dollar amounts for these women, right now eligible (i.e., rich) men are disappearing before their eyes.  Stripped of their magical millions, all the wealthy princes are turning back into "clingy" math and chess club nerds and, well, what's a princess to do??

So, how does this relate back to Obama?  For the reams that could be written about the multitudes of Marie Antoinettes and the shocking lack of awareness and personal responsibility they express in DABAgirls.com, I think the most eloquent — and sensible — response comes from our new President, in his inaugural speech:

We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things . . . 

In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never been one of shortcuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the fainthearted -- for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things -- some celebrated, but more often men and women obscure in their labor -- who have carried us up the long, rugged path toward prosperity and freedom.

Frankie and Johnny

Frank Rich gets hip to the theme of this blog. On the culprits of the economic collapse:

This debt-ridden national binge of greed and irresponsibility washed over our culture not just through the Marie Antoinette antics of a Schwarzman and a Thain but in mass forms of conspicuous consumption and entertainment. Cable networks like Bravo, A&E, TLC and HGTV produced an avalanche of creepy programming catering to the decade’s housing bubble alone — an orgiastic genre that might be called Subprime Pornography. Some of the series — “Flip This House,” “Flip That House,” “Sell This House,” “My House Is Worth What?” — still play on even as more and more house owners are being flipped into destitute homelessness.

When Obama called it a "collective failure" to rein it in, he rather diplomatically attributed responsibility to everyone rather than call out the jovial idiot and the vulture-in-a-wheelchair by name. Yes, there were ten drivers in the pile-up, but you also have to single out the culpability of the dude in the lead car who knowingly hit the road in a car with no brakes.

Some acts of avariciousness are more egregious than others, and there seems to be an inverse proportion between the scale of greed and its consequences. While many consumers and opportunistic mom-and-pop real estate speculators are paying for their excesses with ruined credit and homelessness, Bernie Madoff sweats it out in a swank co-op paid for with someone else's sweat equity, while John Thain licks his wounds in a country estate that spans three towns and sports five addresses. (His pied-a-terre is a two-bedroom $27.5 million Park Avenue duplex.) If it's business as usual, he will probably land his next CEO gig very soon. Although there are some who caution: beware the lynch mob.

(Also, what's up with John Thain's $1400 wastebasket? Trash cans, always the trash cans with these people!)