Yesterday I saw a bumper sticker that read:
"I'm not spoiled. I'm just well taken care of."
As I looked at the car on which the bumper sticker sat, I scoffed. Here in front of me was a late-80s Buick, faded and unwashed. The green fuzz that had begun to grow on the bumper indicated a sponge had not caressed the car in quite some time. (To clarify, the bumper sticker looked relatively new, and was obviously not placed on the car immediately after it rolled off the lot in the 80s) I read the bumper sticker again. Spoiled? And you drive an old beat up Buick? How could that be? I thought to myself, "I have a nicer car than this person, and mine is a 94 Acura, which is also faded and dented. I don't consider myself spoiled."
Suddenly I had an apostrophe (that's what Smee said in hook when he meant epiphany). Lightning had just struck my brain. The person in front of me could be the happiest, most content person on the planet, and here I am judging them by the car they drive. I'm an idiot. So I repented and kept driving.
Moral: being spoiled does not mean having nice, new stuff.