The truly rich are different from you and me; they take a noisy helicopter to their weekend getaway. And it’s ruining the place for everyone.
For ordinary mortals, planning a trip in the U.S. has become an exercise in trying to choose the least miserable path. Airlines are shrinking seats and leg room, airports are choke points, not gateways, trains are moving museums of 20th century equipment (demonstrated tragically this week), roads and bridges are falling apart and Interstate tailbacks can stretch for miles.But if you’re rich enough you can skip all of this. These days the most valuable privilege for sale is to travel where you want to, how you want to, when you want to—and never share the experience with anyone you haven’t chosen.
Sometimes, though, the people lucky enough to enjoy this privilege make abrasive contact with those who don’t. And there is probably no place in the world where the collision of great wealth and the rest of humanity is as acute […]
Poetic justice. The uber rich in the Hamptions now have their peace and quiet destroyed by a constant parade of choppers.