“For pomp is a tenacious force. And a wily one too. How numbly it bows as the emperor is dragged down the steps and tossed in the street.” A Gentleman in Moscow
He was the prince from the moment he was born.
The heir.
The chosen.
The selfish young man was sent to boarding school in Virginia because his socialite parents were too busy to deal with a young child. They would wait until he produced something that would reflect back on them and then they would claim him.
He was an indifferent student more prone to cards and drink and late night parties. When he was around 16 year old, he discovered girls and the pleasures they would bring to him. Always back to him. He alone mattered.
After graduation he took a position as a teacher’s aide in a prestigious school where a dress code was enforced and rules had to be adhered to. He hated it, because he was not the center of their attention. Just one more cog in an ever-turning wheel.
He stayed two years and then headed west to Chicago. With his experience he landed a position teaching eighth graders at a Catholic school. Again, he had to learn to be humble regardless of his family’s enormous wealth. His father had provided a new Corvette as a graduation present. His mother had a local bakery send him boxes of sweets every week so he could impress his fellow teachers.
Time passed and he met another teacher at a conference. She was unaware of his narcissism, but seemed impressed with his manners and dress. He courted her for two years and they were married in a civil ceremony at City Hall.
Their union proved to be so unhappy. The marriage ended. No children were born during that marriage.
He drifted. He moved. He traveled. He had lost so far in the game of life. How could this be, he thought. I am important. I matter. I am rich. Not once did he look in his mirror and see that he was the root of his misery. And that only he could become a decent human being.
He began to pray and attend Mass. He began to seek opportunities to be useful and helpful. With his family money he gave to important organizations and sponsored many civic events. He really did not need a job, but it gave him something to do and to gain recognition.
He wed two more times, but each ended in divorce. He still was a work in progress, obviously.
When his father died and he inherited millions, he sat and thought for a long time. In his grief, he mourned the loss, but also seemed reborn.
Ten years passed and he was now facing his sixth decade of life. He had community approbation, a comfortable home, good friends. Then his health declined. He had a trust written leaving everything to Boys Town in Nebraska. If he could help young boys to become good men, then his life did, indeed, have meaning and purpose.
The heir passed this life quietly and he was cremated. His ashes were tossed into Lake Michigan. He was no longer the prince.
It all was over.