Striking Distance

by Robert P. Barsanti

We have had a wonderful July. On a day that a billionaire would have designed for his pleasure, I walked up Pleasant Street and headed to town. This summer, these hydrangea have bloomed, as have the hedges. Somebody loved them. Somebody pruned them by hand, fertilized the dirt with the right acidic mix to get bridal white blooms, and gave them lots of water.

This close to town, the property values have entered into the Platinum Circle, so most of the yards aren’t waiting for Chad to get off the Rhodes 19 at the yacht club and get on the Toro in the backyard. Instead, squads of white-shirted workers descend on the “property” and prepare it for the weekend. In one brick driveway, four women bent over and pulled slight shoots of grass and weeds from between the bricks. Two hours later, the bricks were weed-free and ready for the gleaming summer rides—one a Mini Cooper, the other a silver Yukon.

At one point in the recent past, Nantucket was where millionaires mowed the lawns of billionaires. I remember seeing those millionaires bouncing their lawnmowers in the back of Ford Explorers, with the handles pushed out a precarious back window. That time has mostly passed. The billionaires found a cheaper way to get the lawns they want for the summer: they let their accountants find a contractor who will hire sub-contractors who will find people to “grind the gig work” and pluck the grass out of the brick driveways for cash. The mowing millionaires have moved to Florida, North Carolina, or Mashpee. The billionaires remain and they expect quality service.

Since Ronald Reagan, the economy has been splitting between the “have-aYukons” and “the have-a-bikes.” Since 1978, the average wage of a CEO has increased 1480% while the average worker has seen their wages hold steady or fall. As the CEO wages have risen and the workers wages have slipped, unions have faded from America and from Nantucket. Today, less then 10% of all workers are unionized while, at the same time, the top 1% owns 35% of the net worth of the country. And guess where that 1% comes for lobster salad and blueberry lemonade?

So, for most of the well-heeled visitors on Main Street, the only unionized continued on page 16