In 1980s television, it seemed entirely possible to run a multi-million dollar conglomerate and still have a lot of free time.  I am reminded of a self-made millionaire from California, whose business interests included: a cargo shipping line, a vineyard, a toy manufacturer, a western ghost town, a record label, ownership of a racehorse and several government contracts for military electronics, to name a few.

During five seasons, I saw him drive a Ferrari Dino, a Bentley S3, a Rolls Royce Corniche, a convertible Mercedes-Benz, an Aston Martin and a Mercedes-Benz station wagon.

With all those businesses to manage and expensive cars to pay for, I rarely saw him working at the office.  He would be buying an antique automobile in London, or he and his wife would be shopping in New York, skiing in Colorado, sailing in Hawaii, participating in a road rally in Greece, or on a safari in Africa.

When he was home, rather than leaving early each morning to commute in Los Angeles traffic and returning home after sundown, he and his wife were usually playing tennis on their backyard court or sitting poolside, while live-in staff prepared dinner, ran errands and cleaned the house.  On a weekly basis, they would become caught-up in a murder mystery, which was somehow connected to their businesses, hobbies or one of the many charity events they had time to organize.  This often left me wondering why they didn’t move to a safer city.

These days, I am out of the house thirteen hours a day, including a three-hour round trip commute.  When I get home, my wife, after a day of working and commuting herself, has usually finished her dinner and has mine wrapped in tin foil waiting to be warmed up in the oven.  There is no tennis court in our backyard, but I do occasionally go out back and cook on our Weber grill from Sears.  We haven’t embarked on an African safari, but my wife has driven through the safari adventure at the local amusement park.  Surprisingly, it wasn’t in a Rolls Royce.