IBD ExComm and Murder

(I'll bet that title will get a lot of attention!)

Saturday night I went out to dinner with the IBD ExComm, since they were meeting here in Chicago over the weekend. I was curious to meet the people behind the names and magazine portraits. Nice bunch. Pleasant dinner. All very much dedicated to helping Mensa grow stronger. I'm glad I went.

But the thing that I've been mulling over since then has nothing to do with Mensa. As we entered the restaurant. a woman came up to me saying "I know you-- where do I know you from?" We guessed about a few possibilities, but finally I remembered that I'd worked with her at Forest Hospital back in the 80s. We chatted about it and she asked if I'd heard about Ari Squire, the son of the hospital's owner. I live under rock, so I hadn't heard anything. She gave me a brief description, and I googled when I got home to learn more .

OMG! I knew this guy. I knew his wife (yeah, she was a shrew, just like the papers are painting her). I have a large gold and diamond ring from Ari's father. I worked closely with his older sister. When I quit twelve years ago, this arrogant, spoiled rich kid was sitting on top of the world, and now look where he is.

Certainly makes me pause before envying others who seem to have it all.