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Growing up in a middle-class neighborhood also scores points for you on several questions, and this, too, is reflected in the real-world experiences that people bring to their adult lives in the new upper class. But middle class covers a wide variety of environments, and the degree to which people who grew up in the middle class seal themselves off from that world after they reach the new upper class also varies widely, which is reflected in the wide range of possible scores. Having grown up in an upper-middle-class neighborhood inevitably means some restriction to your exposure to average American life. If you grew up in an exclusive part of town such as Chicago’s North Shore or northwest Washington, you or your parents had to take proactive steps to force you out of the bubble. That sort of thing happens, but even then it is often artificial–your parents made you help out in a soup kitchen during high school and you volunteered for Habitat for Humanity during college, so you have had brief exposure to some of the most downtrodden people and disorganized neighborhoods. The truth is, such experiences still leave people with little idea of what life in an ordinary working-class or middle-class neighborhood is like.”

You are right about missing the opportunity of turning Uncle Ho into a Tito though. Why is it that people like YOU are not security advisors, and instead we get the utterly corrupt, ignorant and incompetent Susan Rices??? Actually, that’s just a rhetorical question. The answer is simple. While I don’t know if the feckless, liar Rice went to an Ivy League school, but a goodly number our deep staters do. And basically – per people I know who went to Harvard, or similar- you go for the CONTACTS, not the education. After all, the speed of light is the same there as it is at Univ. of TX. or Univ. of British Columbia (Go Thunderbirds!!)

Today I was taking a walk in the countryside near an old Roman settlement in England in this beautiful season of pre-autumn with fruit happy on the trees and hay being cut and gathered. There is a peace about autumn as if nature is tired after its huge growing effort. From my vantage on a hilltop I watched a young girl and her horse negotiate the route downhill. Like a skier the horse slalomed its way down weaving from one side to the other. Was this typical for a horse I wondered or was it somehow injured? I had always imagined a horse charging straight down a hill. But like so many things I simply did not know.

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