I've got a theory that many of the coolest things are invisible. A long time back I read Class by Paul Fussell. One of the things in that book got me thinking: The highest classes of people with the oldest money drive old, ordinary cars. Same cars as the lower middle class, as a matter of fact. Status for them has nothing to do with cars, or stuff. Yesterday in the optician's office, while waiting to be fitted with my new prescription shades I picked up some smarmy upscale magazine and saw a bunch of ads for expensive watches.

I've had some expensive watches. Rolexes. When you wear a Rolex you will notice another Rolex wearer across a crowded airport. And you will think how nice it is that you're in that same exclusive club he's in. The downside is that maybe he's thinking the same thing about you, and you know you're not really in the club but are ambitious and just trying to be in the club until you can afford an even more exclusive watch. When I figured that out I quit wearing watches at all. It's a nice way to meet people, asking them the time.

(Aside: Why did the WASP go to the hospital? For the food. -Stolen from a NYT article yesterday.)

Class is invisible. It's based on breeding, culture, heritage, old money, influence and other more-or-less intangibles. It has nothing to do with Breitling watches or Maseratis. Sometimes the only visible differences between a member of the lower middle class and the upper class is in the quality of the haircut and the body fat index. Sometimes not even those.

I served in the Marines with a bunch of guys from old WASP families. In many cases it was a family tradition. Usually I didn't even know it unless something gave it away. Their summer homes on Cape Cod or the Baltic, for example. They might have driven Corvettes, but that was pretty much one of the standard choices for single Marine officers anyway. I remember spending a holiday with a friend at his family's place in Rye, NY. I had no idea...

It seems to me - and I could be completely wrong on this - that if one wants to appear to be of the American upper class, the thing to do is to show nothing flashy, take good care of one's teeth, and get good haircuts. If one wants to show how jealous and ambitious he is, then he should buy and display all the flash he can.

From the middle middle class - your correspondent...

(Claudia, scratching Robin's back.)

Claudia, photographed in my motel room in San Antonio, Texas three years back. An interesting shoot - pretty sure I've talked about how sick she was the whole time and how she insisted we continue. Guts - the girl has guts. I know I'll be photographing her again sometime as we've talked about it in the last few months. She also brought along a co-worker or maybe her boss who had seen her naked, but not quite that naked. It was strange to say the least.

Gotta get my bright red Honda Interceptor serviced (32,000 mile) soon so I can do another long ride this summer. It's been a few years since I rode to Washington state to Louisville, to Buffalo to Boston to Philly to San Antonio (when this was made along the way) and home to San Diego. Rides like that are the best feeling of complete freedom I've ever experienced. No real schedules so anything from three hundred to twelve hundred miles a day works, depending on what I want to do. Motel 6 keeps a light on for me and every truck stop serves chicken-fried steak. I s'pose I'd best get planning this one. Models interested in working with me along the way, feel free to comment here starting with "DON'T POST THIS" and giving an email address and we can see what happens. I won't post the inquiries.

So...time for a glass of wine and my current science fiction novel...