By way of Maggie's Farm comes this announcement that Katherine Hepburn's home in Old Saybrook, Connecticut is for sale. The asking price is $28 million.
I know the place as we used to drive near it on occasion on our way to or from Lenny and Joe's Fish Tale, one of our favorite restaurants on the Connecticut seacoast.
Normally I wouldn't even post anything about this as I have little real interest. But a recent viewing of The Aviator (the story of Howard Hughes) reminded me of something I had almost forgotten. (I cannot say for sure this actually happened, but it certainly made for interesting cinema.)
There was a scene that took place at the Hepburn house (and I believe it may have even been shot there, comparing scenes from the movie to photos seen in the listing), where Howard accompanied Katherine to dine with her family one summer weekend. During the meal Katherine's mother, a rather outspoken woman in her own right, blathered on about being socialists and that she didn't care who knew it, and anyone who disagreed would never step into her house.
Howard sat there quietly fuming until he couldn't stand it anymore. He replied to her, saying that she and her family could afford to be socialists because they had money, while the average working man could not. He basically lambasted her for her ignorance about how business and the economy actually worked, then got up from his seat and left.
Howard Hughes may have been eccentric, but he knew his stuff when it came to business, economics, and the working man. He also spoke a truth (or at least the Howard Hughes in the movie did).
Those with money can afford to be socialists. The rest of us can't.
Socialism rarely effects the limousine liberals. After all, they've already got theirs. Living with the effects of socialism is only for the little people. (That means you and me, folks.) It also means that it's the little people who, in the end, pay for it all, be it with confiscatory taxes, crappy social services, poor educational and health care systems, substandard housing, or dead end it's-for-the-public-good 'jobs' of the “We pretend to work and they pretend to pay us” variety.