Who Was That Masked Man?

I live in a one-newspaper town. The Gannett newspaper conglomerate chooses to publish in one-newspaper markets, thereby precluding any need to compete for advertising dollars or "scoops." Gannett can publish the news it sees fit to publish and it can publish anything it deems to be news.

The November 7, 2004 headline in my Daily Gannett read "Philanthropist of the Year Feted at Awards Banquet." Of course, any subscriber to my Gannett newspaper knew, without reading further, that the Philanthropist of the Year was chosen from among the handful of people who conceptualize, manufacture and receive all of the awards in my town. Because they own my town. And all of the dirty little working people who live in my town.

The hot-off-the-press news flash stated "The Moneybucks family, headed by Milton Moneybucks III, gave more than $500,000 last year to 200 organizations. Milton Moneybucks III is the chairman of Moneybucks Financial, the parent company of Moneybucks National Bank and Trust."

Don’t get me wrong. I find this very honorable. Milton Moneybucks III inherited a banking empire in my little town and he has generously given away $500,000 of his grandpa’s money to charity. I’m all for it.

But it gets better. The award was presented by a woman who shares a marriage license with a wealthy industrialist older than her father, but far less attractive. Her sole occupation is attending awards banquets at which one-percenters give awards to one another. When her busy schedule allows, she also fervently endeavors to instill an appreciation of the fine arts and proper table-setting in children who don’t know who their fathers are. I’m pretty sure she has received awards for her earnest efforts. I’ll have to search the Gannett news archives for confirmation of that. She offered these comments from the podium:

"The Moneybucks’ contributions have been given without recognition and fanfare, and most were made anonymously."

There you have it. Milton Moneybucks III is the Anonymous Philanthropist of the Year. Just between you and me.

An anonymous source provided me with the letter accompanying the anonymous contributions. The letter, printed on the Moneybucks clan’s linen stationery, watermarked with the family crest, reads as follows:

"Please accept this anonymous contribution toward your fine cause. Don’t tell anyone. I prefer to simply bask in an anonymous warm glow, knowing that I have performed an anonymous gesture in complete and utter anonymity.

I am also anonymously enclosing two tickets to the awards banquet at which I will be shamelessly and anonymously honored for giving $500,000 in anonymous contributions to 200 organizations. Only my cloak of anonymity hides my embarrassment about it. Please pass the tickets on to someone at a respectable level of your organization, and note that a dress code will be strictly enforced.

Please also sign the enclosed receipt acknowledging my anonymous contribution, and return it to me anonymously at Moneybucks Financial.

I would have slipped this donation, in cash, through the transom of your establishment’s back door, but I can’t go anywhere without being recognized. I surely would have been spotted, and the anonymous nature of my anonymous contribution would have faded into anonymity. Besides, your office is located in an icky neighborhood where neither I nor my Mercedes would be safe."

Dead center on the front page of my newspaper was a color photo of Milton Moneybucks III accepting his Anonymous Philanthropist of the Year Award. There wasn’t even a black bar across his eyes. He looked terribly embarrassed. And tanned. And well fed. He wears his anonymity well.

Only a splash of golden sperm stands between you and the thrill of award-winning anonymous philanthropy. Teach your children well, but choose your ancestors better.