Doorman: “We would never get a tip from Mr. Koch”

For the last few days we’ve been featuring the saga of David Koch and two PBS films critical of him. The drama around the first film, described here …

David Koch & PBS self-censorship

… got the second film canceled …

How a PBS film about David Koch got another PBS film cancelled

The first film, the one that aired — and which became the source of all the consternation at WNET in New York, where David Koch lives — is called Park Avenue: Money, Power and the American Dream.

One of the least consequential scenes in terms of the analysis, but most consequential in terms of its portrait of David Koch the man, is this one. (The film is cued up at the point of the inner scene; replay to see the whole thing.)

Quoting the doorman:

“The cheapest person overall was David Koch. We’d load up his trucks, two vans usually, every weekend for the Hamptons, multiple trips, multiple guys, in and out, in and out, heavy bags — we would never get a tip from Mr. Koch…”

And I hope you caught that social deference — “Mr. Koch.” That by itself — knowing your place — is worth a tip, at least in your father’s U.S. of A.

The part we care about starts at 45:20 and ends at 46:00 (ish) — a really short segment. But man, what an indictment of the mean-spirited hyper-entitled hyper-rich this is.

Our betters, like Pete Peterson’s grandson

I’m reminded of this, a verbal portrait of billionare Social Security–hater (and friend–of–Bill Clinton) Peter G. Peterson’s grandson, via digby (my emphasis):

A Living Argument Against Aristocracy

I confess to being an intermittent fan of Bravo reality shows like Top Chef and Project Runway, so I sometimes tune into the network from time to time and catch one of their other shows.  I happened to see a couple of episodes of a show called NYC Prep when it aired last summer but was so sickened by the loathesome little Lord and Lady Fauntleroys featured in the show that I never watched it again.  The worst one by far was this guy:

Peter Cary “PC” Peterson, 18 years old and a senior at Dwight, is sitting at Philippe on the Upper East Side, talking about the way the world works, based on his extensive experience. “Everything in New York City is about connections,” he explains, his eyes glinting and head lolling back. “It’s who you know and how much money you have. It’s really sad. And I am not saying I’m like that. But that’s what New York is: money and power.”

He is like that, and worse.

I’m a little slow on the uptake, I guess, because I didn’t know that this little jerk is the grandson of Pete Peterson, scourge of the safety net.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a greater argument for an estate tax. A huge one.

My emphasis. A huge one. Here’s the little lad:


Wait until he gets old enough to feed. This class, these people, are what I mean when I say “Our Betters.” Do you doubt that they don’t doubt I’m right?

Tell your Tea Party–voting friends, this is who we all work for. I’m serious; I do this all the time. The right-wing Christian ex-Air Force tile installer I just worked with gets it, because I didn’t talk down to him, but across. They all hate the rich. De-tribalize them, say I.

Mes centimes detribalizées,


To follow or send links: @Gaius_Publius

Gaius Publius is a professional writer living on the West Coast of the United States.

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