This was on Mike Ybarra's LinkedIn page as of this morning. I took the screencap just in case this post gets deleted sometime later. |
If you can guess, judging by my comment above, I was rather disgusted by the tone deafness inherent in the post. 1900 employees (at minimum) lost their jobs from the Microsoft Games division*, and that included ex-Blizzard President Mike Ybarra. In typical LinkedIn fashion, he posted a perpetual sales-type upbeat spin on his own departure; if he never worked another day in his life I'm sure he'll be perfectly well off. If he could handle living a middle class lifestyle, that is.
Still, that did get me to thinking about a variety of things, not the least of which is grappling with the concept baked into the American work ethic as defined by H.L. Mencken as "Puritanism: the haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy."
***
Having done my share of genealogical research, I've seen a lot of census entries for my ancestors as variations on "laborer", "housewife", or "maid". Sometimes you see them progress to "machinist" or "carpenter", but I've also seen pictures of the houses/apartments they rented --many of them merely rented rather than owned a home-- and I saw how they kinda sorta eked out a living over the past century and a half.
And now there's me.
Where I am is the culmination of their work --and their luck or lack thereof-- and I've made a living in a field that has seen its share of ups and downs. I'm no Puritan by a long stretch --my kids will tell you that-- but that Puritan work ethic has manifested in me over the years to an uncomfortable degree. I simply can't seem to relax and enjoy myself.
Of course, what I find enjoyable is not what a lot of people do.
A few months ago I had a conversation with a coworker about a variety of things, but he mentioned he was going to go on a cruise in a week or two, and that is one thing that I simply can't examine and find enjoyable.
No, this is not Bobby Kotick's yacht; it's two of Royal Caribbean's cruise ships. From cruisecritic.net. |
Even before my dietary restrictions, being in an enclosed space around that many people --and the associated conspicuous consumption-- just made me shudder. Even if I did find being on an oceangoing vessel enjoyable in itself, I would know that the places these ships docked at were tourist traps that presented a false impression of the localities themselves. It's kind of like going on what is called "exotic travel" and ending up at a resort somewhere; I can't enjoy that at all because I feel like I'm participating in some holdover from nineteenth century colonialism.
It's not white guilt per se, but the feeling that I'm still taking advantage of a situation when I recognize that a past I never had any control over still influences things today. I could choose to be willfully blind and try to enjoy myself, but that's not me.
To put this in perspective, my family once went on a road trip vacation that ended at the Outer Banks, North Carolina.** One evening, my ever-budget conscious parents decided to go to a "family restaurant" on the strip near our motel. You could tell the restaurants there wanted tourists because a lot of them had "AAA Approved" signs***, and so did the one we chose. The place had late 70s/early 80s decor, and the food was good enough (think of a local version of Perkins or Denny's), but what made me profoundly uncomfortable was the fact that while the management was white all of the staff were black. Okay, it was more than just that: the mannerisms that the staff exuded were extremely formal in a "this is how the serving staff of a duchess/plantation owner would behave" sort of way. In one of those rare occasions where my brother and I saw eye-to-eye, we both commented on later when we were alone at how damned icky that made us feel.
Yes, it was the South and only 20 years removed from the Civil Rights Act, but still I was shocked that in the mid-80s this sort of thing still existed. At a "family restaurant" no less.
***
I guess you could say that I'm uncomfortable with what I consider to be ostentatious displays of wealth and privilege.
I realize that Lexus as a car brand isn't truly a "luxury" car brand in the same vein as, say, Bentley is, but the "I could get used to this" tagline caught my attention when I first saw this commercial back in 2015 and I instinctively thought "No, I couldn't." For me, it's as if I'd gotten dropped into the middle of The Prince and the Pauper, and I know instinctively that I'd never feel at ease knowing what life is like for people who have less.
So, at this time of year, when you watch sports and there are tons of commercials for cruises, destination vacations, financial products, and luxury items**** and sporting events that the rich (or wannabe rich) go to, it really starts to affect me. (And that doesn't even touch on the fact that in the US there's now a ton of commercials for legalized betting.) I suppose it's a good thing that my social media imprint is minimal, given that I'd see a lot more of this stuff, and I'd really rather not be a party pooper.
Was there a point to this rant? Not really; I just have had it building inside me for a very long time now and I wanted to get it off of my chest. Well, that and that I'm tired --really really fucking tired-- of extremely rich people trying to proclaim how they're just "a regular guy" while hobnobbing with other extremely rich people, and trying to enact policies in business, politics and elsewhere that only favor themselves.
*Mostly ex-Activision-Blizzard employees, but also some from Zenimax (Bethesda) and other areas.
**Luckily for me we visited Kitty Hawk, the site of the first powered flight by the Wright Brothers. Yes, I'm an aviation nut.
***Now THAT is a blast from the past. I doubt businesses give a rat's ass about the American Automobile Association's seal of approval these days, but back in the 70s and 80s you were at least guaranteed a minimal amount of quality if that stamp of approval were given to a business.
****Given the price, I consider an iPhone or a top model Samsung Galaxy a luxury item, no matter if the wireless company gives it to you "for free", because you end up paying the $1400 cost for the phone. It's just hidden in the cost of the service itself, that's all.
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