Coral Gables Historical Archive
The Coral Gables Times
Thursday, May 4, 1961, page 28 (of 56)
The page
The text of this pageRead by computer from the scan, so some words may be wrong. The page picture is the original.
Suburbia Today, May 1961
6 Suburbia Today, May 1961
HOW TO ENJOY MONEY
ILLUSTRATION BY JOHN A. WOOLHISER PHOTOGRAPH FROM EUROPEAN THIS CERTIFICATE IS LEGAL TENDER FOR ALL TO ENJOY!! B 2145062420 A SERIES 1961 Treasurer of the United States Secretary of Enjoyment BY CORNELIUS VANDERBILT, JR. Enjoy it your own way is the advice of the great-great-grandson of "the Commodore," who talks about his money as freely as he spends it. SOME YEARS AGO I overheard two little shoeshine boys exchanging ideas, and one asked, "What would you do if someone gave you a million dollars?" The other tyke replied, "Count it." The point is that money—especially in lump sums—is America's favorite conversation game. I wasn't aware that everybody didn't have a house on Fifth Avenue, a villa in Newport, or a steam-driven, ocean-going yacht, until my second year at St. Paul's preparatory school in New Hampshire. A small incident gave me a hint of my hidden powers. Several of my classmates asked me to treat them to some candy. "How could I?" I asked. "I have only twelve cents left of my weekly allowance." "That's all right," they answered. "Just walk in the store and tell them who you are. They'll let you charge anything you want." "Will they?" "Sure thing. You are a Vanderbilt." A Vanderbilt? I felt puzzled. My name was Vanderbilt, all right, but I saw no reason why the store proprietor should be impressed by it. The boys sneered. "Oh, go on, stop pretending. Don't you know that your family has one hundred million bucks?" "I see," I said. I did not. "One hundred million bucks" meant nothing to me. The only thing I really saw was a mean look in my classmates' eyes. I sighed and entered the store where I explained to the proprietor that I would buy one pound of marshmallows, provided he would agree to take twelve cents now and wait for the balance until Saturday. The man behind the counter hesitated. He looked for a moment at the shining dime and two sticky pennies in my trembling hand, then asked: "What's the name?" "Vanderbilt." "What's the first name?" "Cornelius. Cornelius Vanderbilt." "Any relation to the old lady who has that big house on Fifth Avenue?" "That's my grandmother." "Take two pounds of marshmallows," said the proprietor, "and keep your twelve cents. You'll pay me the whole thing in a heap at your pleasure." I walked out in a daze. "You see," said my public, "you can buy the whole town if you want to. Just give your name and tell them to charge. How about getting some bicycles for us?" From that moment on my horizons broadened. Money has done a lot for me, even if it has failed me on occasion. Thinking it over, I realize that for one thing it has allowed me to be eccentric. I can say and do what I please... without good sense. I can choose the people I want to be with. I'm not be- Cornelius Vanderbilt, Jr., photographed with Mrs. Vanderbilt and his little sister Grace. holden to anyone. It's quite a plus. And there are other rewards, of course. After forty years of adulthood and some pretty wild experiences, I'll go along with the theory that the material and physical pleasures are fleeting and the flesh is weak. But you have to spend, enjoy, and grow up in order to find this out. One healthy way of getting your kicks from money is travel. I've made 75 crossings to Europe. I've been to Barbados in the Caribbean with its inexpensive pensions and liquor at one-third the U. S. price; to Kandy in Ceylon, high in the mountains, 50 miles from the equator, where you have elephants to ride on; to Zanzibar and the Sultan's palace; to Beersheba in Israel with the camel market and the wonders of the Dead Sea. I've been to Interlaken in Switzerland, and up the Jungfrau ice castle in midsummer; to Oaxaca in Mexico, and the ruined cities; to Rhodes and the excavations; to Capetown with its native compounds and processions. All colorful and worthwhile, and on the way I've met many of the world's great, including De Gaulle, Churchill, Gandhi, and Mao. Travel and a chance to meet the world-famous are rich rewards. Yet, I must admit, I have invested just as much in giving parties as I have in travel. (What did I tell you about the chance to be eccentric?) To me, party-giving is more than fun, it is a science. Chef and assistants are picked with care. Food is ordered with an eye to the time of year, the occasion, the guests, and the place. Bartenders are put through a full-scale rehearsal. Decorations and music get equal attention. Lastly, the guest list is chosen not so much with a study of the individual but of the whole chemistry. One kind of person brings out another, and I like to make stimulating combinations—politicians and comedians and corporation heads, and everywhere, lots of lovely women. Two of my (Continued on page 8) Photograph from Mr. Vanderbilt's MAN OF THE WORLD, published by Crown