Why does ‘the good life’ (as it’s often interpreted) require out-glitzing others?
When I left my hometown in 1964, Lake Norman was perhaps just filled to mark its 532 miles of shoreline. Duke Power had dammed the Catawba River for electrical power. People were building small cabins and parking trailers on lake lots, which were available to even a mill worker–like my Uncle Guy, who came to fish the large lake.
Courtesy: visitlakenormal.org
Over the past fifty years, the desire for lake life has brought change to the lake’s once-affordable shores. To say it honestly, living on Lake Norman today is costly–in dollars and lifestyle. While I know that’s a generalization, it’s mostly true. I know it from experience, too. Living here is expensive in ways that I didn’t anticipate when we moved here two years ago.
A retired educator, I’ve learned quickly not to be overly influenced to spend like many of my neighbors and friends who benefit from a richer retirement. For example, there isn’t a boat or jet skis at our dock. There’s just a ladder to use when climbing in and out after a swim.
I’m not complaining about that, though. What I do find concerning are the cultural implications of an opulent lifestyle–not just here, but elsewhere across our country.
Our mailbox is filled with magazines that are, well, just glitzy, offering pictorial representations of what Thorsten Veblen referred to as ‘conspicuous consumption” in his book, The Theory of the Leisure Class. Although the book was published in 1899, it has had lasting power over the decades.
What we have is an attempt to out-glitz others. All the small towns, hamlets, the one large city around the lake publish PR materials showing happy, rich, and mostly white people and their lifestyle.
One recent magazine published an article about a family’s experience. It read: “They travel often and went to Disney World last year. ‘We had a blast,’ said the mother. ‘Where else can you spend $11 on a balloon?’”
Gads, I thought. who wants to spend (or should spend) that much money on a balloon? And what does it say about the mother?
Well, yesterday another glitzy parcel arrived in the mail (don’t you love paying for junk mail?). On the cover was a professionally produced photograph of a professional wakeboarder. The sky above him held him in a frame of Carolina Blue. The lake’s wake behind him rose above his waist. Arms held high with lifejacket hugging his chest, sat his young son on his shoulders–with hands in the air, just like dad.
In my mind, being a professional means having value and respect for whatever you are a pro in. But when I looked at that magazine cover, I became irritated–at both of these professionals—the father who put his young son in danger and the magazine that made the action look attractive.
In my mind, both are guilty of self-serving action–the father brags and the magazine profits.
Perhaps all who live on our lake should read and discuss Poe’s iconic short story, Masque of the Red Death. Revelry is not above calamity.
