I went to a political-type fundraiser tonight, not of my own accord. I was sucked into it. Anyway, it was hosted by a local plastic surgeon and it was at his house. You know where this is going don't you? His house was amazing. It is a sprawling Spanish style house with a huge backyard with a big pool and rock waterfall, tons of deckspace, and a tennis court. The interior was not my cup of tea but needless to say, it was very well appointed and professionally decorated. The driveway was occupied by a Ferrari F355 Spyder, a brand new Lambo Gallardo, a brand new Range Rover Sport, and a pimped out Hummer H2. All of those cars are the docs. I assume they live in the 4 car garage but there might also have been more candy hidden in there. He's a young guy known as a huge playboy. Of course his guests were pulling up and Masarati's, Porsche Turbos, SL's, etc, etc. X5: Check! I talked to him about cars and commented on his rides. He asked me to get him when I left so he could take me out to see the cars. What did that mean? Keys? Start it up, drive away? I'll never know because I felt like a dumb kid so I didn't bug him and slipped out.

I left there feeling very inadequate. I know I have nothing to complain about. I'm pretty lucky having the things I do. There are always people who have more money than the next rich guy. I have to remember the total crapholes some people have to live in because they can't afford any better. It's all relative.

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