The Breath of Others

We claim we don’t like elites, but we eagerly follow every ridiculous and pompous movement of the British Royals. (They’re now upset about a Nigerian trip that Harry and Megan took where they were treated too much like a state visit!) We belong to air clubs, hotel clubs. We have Amex green, gold, platinum, and black cards. Hertz has a platinum service. On our recent trip to LA, we arrived and departed though Amex suites. Once upon a time, elite offerings were only open to invited, important guests. Then a court case opened them to all, with the wonderful result that we can watch people clip their toenails in a Delta lounge. (No, I am not making that up. Nor am I making up the woman who changed a filthy diaper on a first class United seat.) So since lawyers of course sued to open private clubs intended for the top guests, people struggle for other elite experiences. This happens at beach resorts, in school, on the job, and when traveling. (There’s a rigid “culture” among people who commute by train every day, and apparently on the few times I’m on such a train I break every tribal law.) Why is this? It’s because we struggle for independence. As much as we collect ourselves for mutual protection, influence, and sustenance, we need vacations to get away, special treatment to separate us out, offers to elevate our status. As much as we hear “no man is an island” or “it takes a village” or “we’re really pack animals” I wonder. It seems at times, not infrequently, that others’ breath is poisonous to us.