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Unlike panning for gold, with us humans it is not the jewels that settle to the bottom. The Los Angeles area is a huge bowl, with the forgotten masses of its population living in the flatlands in the center, the middle class folks living in the foothills, and the extremely wealthy living on top of the hills. From where I lived, I could look out over this vast urban area from well above the riff-raff. At least I could when the smog lets me see anything at all. But I was the exception to the above mentioned rule, for although I lived, for the moment anyway, on a vast estate far up in the hills, I had no wealth. On the contrary; I was actually as poor as a church mouse.

So how does a poor man such as I live up here alongside the famous and privileged? Ah, now there is a story.

_____________________________________ Fate is, at times, a cruel mistress. I thought I had done all the right things. I attended the right college, took the right classes, studied hard, and then began working my way up through the ranks of an established company. I made my mark in middle management early on. I was being noticed. I was earmarked for big things. The widget my company made had a corner on the market, and my career moved up in step with our product. My future was bright.

Then some high school dropout invented a little electronic gizmo that did what our widget did, at four times the speed and half the cost. The ...

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