“Looky there,” said the old man gazing across the bayou. “Them crazies is at it again, dancin’ and drinkin’ and carryin’ on somethin’ fierce…and doin’ the Buzzard Lope.”

“They do that every year,” said the old woman. “You know that. I call it a pretty darn good time to go shoppin’ at the dollar store.”

“That’s a point,” said the old man. “One thing’s for sure, we got more parties and festivals ‘round these parts this time a year than anybody can shake a stick at.”

“That buzzard festival is one thing,” said the old woman. “But you ought read about this big wine festival goin’ on ‘bout the same time. Says here a bunch of rich folks got together and raised $8 million in a single afternoon by auctionin’ off expensive wines and yacht cruises and dinners with movie stars and stuff.”

“Do tell,” said the old man. “What was they raisin’ money for with that kind of opulence and con-spic-u-us consumption??

“Says here, they was raisin’ money for poor people…the children of poor people,” replied the old woman.

“And imagine,” said the old man. “Nearby, another whole bunch of folks was making a head count of the homeless in the neighborhood.”

“Yep. But while some were counting the homeless, someone at this party paid $340,000 for a seven day escape to the Bahamas on a private yacht,” continued the old woman. “Somebody else paid $200,000 for supper at Spago with movie stars and to go to Judge Judy’s show on the TeeVee Box.

“Still somebody else paid $400,000 to cruise the Mediterranean on a 170-foot yacht and somebody coughed up $130,000 to have supper with Robert Redford. He’s gettin’ kinda old, ain’t he?”

“Wonder how much some of them rich people would pay for a conscience?” asked the old man.

“Whatya mean?” asked the old woman.

“What I mean is how can them rich people throw money around like that, like it was water, when they ain’t about to actually meet any poor folks themselves, much less use all that wealth and privilege to try to change the system that keeps people poor in the first place?” said the old man.

“Kinda harsh, ain’t you?” asked the old woman.

“Yes,” agreed the old man. “But think about it. These hoity-toidies would rather get together in a big ol’ cluster and try to out-diamond each other – all the time thinkin’ they’re bein’ so egalitarian – than to get their hands dirty workin’ hard to reform the system toward some kind of economic justice. It’s the 21^st Century equivalent of ‘let them eat cake’. Hell, the French monarchy fell because of this kinda carryin’ on!

“I see what you mean,” said the old woman. “The whole world only raised $15 million in a concert for Haiti and these folks raised $8 million in a single afternoon of excess. Wonder what they could accomplish if they put all that money and energy toward a level playin’ field?”

“They ain’t interested in that,” said the old man. “It’s the jagged playin’ field made ‘em rich in the first place and most of ‘em got a head start wearin’ fancy shoes.

“Naw, they’re happier livin’ in jewel-encrusted luxury and when the opportunity arises sittin’ around in a circle masterbatin’ on poor folks, thinkin’ that’ll make ‘em happy.”