A million dollars really isn't what it used to be.
Think about it. You're now part of an elite class of people. Somehow that holiday with the family in a cramped caravan in Kiama eating sausages and beans for tea just isn't going to cut it anymore.
You're going to need a nanny and holiday in exotic places like Milan or Seychelles which all sounds lovely but if you do that for 20 years at $50,000 a year then all you'll have to show for your original million dollars will be a suntan and sent to a nursing home by the selfish brats that you've spawned to replace yourself.
No I'm afraid that to be rich you need to be even richer these days. You need a bank balance bigger than your tax file number. By which case you will have traded up for a new set of friends who want to attend charity auctions and strange people who come asking for money so that they can start a business venture farming ostriches in Canada.
Your wife would become increasingly bored with the whole range of garden parties attended by people who are famous for being famous, while all of your old friends are down at the local pizzeria with a bottle of $5 plonk having a whale of a time and then carefully splitting the bill afterwards.
Money doesn't buy happiness; nor does it rent it for very long. It might buy you a better class of enemy but who really cares if the radio from your Festiva gets stolen?
I belive that I have a solution. Please send your burden of money however massive to me, where I'll quietly dispose of it in Milan and Seychelles.
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