That feeling — the deep wanting and equating things with goodness — was alive and well before the 80’s. I remember getting a tennis racket in the 70’s and being over the moon because that meant I was now just like those rich people. I was One Of Them. Which was ludicrous, of course. My single mom’s pay was the same. Our upbringing, which automatically excludes me from the upper echelons of society, was the same. The non-tailored, fresh-from-K-Mart-s-sale-rack clothes were the same. But I owned something that I knew rich people owned and that made me feel special.