Queen for a Day

My husband and I have had a long-running argument over whether money buys happiness. He says no, and in fact asserts that the poor, living in hovels though they may, have stronger family ties and closer friendships than the rich, and thus ultimately are happier overall. I usually take the opposite point of view just for fun, but never being rich, I have had no way of knowing for sure. Now I know.

Last night, through a stroke of luck involving a close friend with connections, Mitch and I were able to stay in an exclusive suite at an exclusive private club in New York City, for a price much lower than any hotel. (Such a deal!) Situated on a high floor in mid-town Manhattan, our home away from home has fabulous views, a huge outdoor deck, an original De Kooning, flat screen TVs all over the place, luxurious silk robes, sheets with a high thread count--not sure what that means, but they feel good-- sleek furnishings, a towel warmer in the bathroom, the strongest water pressure-- thus the best shower--outside of Niagara Falls, a fitness club with steam and sauna, blah blah blah. It's quite the place. But what makes it really special is the coffee wall. It's an appliance of course, built in so it looks like it's in the wall, and all you do is put your cup where it's supposed to go and press a button and coffee--very good coffee--comes out within seconds. You don't have to mess with filters or even a little pod of coffee, you just press a button and this fabulous, rich, delicious, brewed-to-perfection coffee comes out, steaming hot. I am on my second cup as I write this and I may have a third if I feel like it.

Based on this new information, I am going to go out on a limb and say that yes, money does buy happiness. And while I am still bummed out over my diagnosis of skin cancer two days ago--apparently it's not the bad kind, as if there is good cancer--that I will have to deal with in the coming days, feeling pampered makes it easier somehow. If I won the lottery and had infinite wealth to share, I would arrange for the poor to have coffee-dispensing units in their hovels. It's much better than a television, and everyone already has one of those. FYI: We went to the Museum of Modern Art yesterday afternoon and found out for sure that the De Kooning in our suite is not the original. (Unless they have the fake.)