I’ve marveled occasionally over the past few years at the explosion of wealth in this country, and the totem for these reflections is the BMW.
I lived in Louisville during the ’70s, and BMWs were all but unknown. The only BMW dealer was a small garage well out of town in a hamlet on the Ohio River. People who drove Beemers were enthusiasts who prized them as high-performance machinery.
Now, I commented to my friend Saul the other night, BMWs are status symbols and as common as Hondas. “There’s a lot of money in this town!”
“It’s not money,” he said solemnly. “It’s credit. They’re doing it on credit.”
“And there’s nothing behind it?”