In my mind, wealth and worth are two distinct categories. Take, for example, Donald Trump. With an estimated $2.5 billion stuffed in his mattress, no one can contest the man’s wealth. But when you consider that his recent tax return shows annual charitable contributions of only $287,000, a $19,000 drop from the previous year, one must question his true worth.
Still, our culture clearly worships Mr. Trump: crowds tune-in to watch him play god of the boardroom, deciding who shall live and who shall die with a flick of the wrist and a bark of his trademarked “You’re fired!” In fact, I suspect that the producers of “The Apprentice” originally had a different title in mind, but were disappointed to find that “American Idol” had already been taken.
At times, I imagine leaving the world of publishing and going into television. I envision a hit reality-TV show called “Lifestyles of the Rich and Righteous.”
We could do a segment on Michael R. Bloomberg, the Mayor of New York City, who in recent years has given over $350 million to charities, showing himself to be a thousand times more generous than The Donald. We can zoom in on cosmetics mogul Ronald O. Perelman, who brings along a pack of yeshiva students on his more exotic vacations so that he can pray with a minyan on Shabbat.
And then there is David T. Chase, a New Jersey-based philanthropist. On a recent trip to my older brother’s Palm Beach community, I had the opportunity to visit Mr. Chase’s mega-yacht, the Cherosa. As I approached the luxurious craft, I was struck by her bold crest, which featured two lions and the words “Torah, Prayer, and Charity.” These words, our sages tell us, are the pillars upon which the world rests.
As we strolled along the lake trail, Mr. Chase shared a story. Once, out at sea, he called up to his captain, asking which way was east. The following day he did the same and the day after as well, until, exasperated, the captain wondered aloud if his employer was studying navigation. Mr. Chase explained that, being a religious Jew, he wanted to know which way was east, as it is customary to pray in the direction of Israel.
A few days later, the captain called him back. “Mr. Chase, I’ve been thinking,” he said. “If prayer means so much to you, perhaps I should take it a bit more seriously in my life. Today is Sunday. Since we are docked, do you mind if I leave the yacht to attend church?” Mr. Chase happily agreed.
Here’s where, as the host of “Lifestyles of the Rich and Righteous,” I would intone, employing my best Robin Leach voiceover: “Even out at sea, in the midst of a vacation, David Chase makes sure to give his prayer the right direction. And now, instead of aye-aye captain, he has his captain humming ay-yay-yay.”