I could make a million last the rest of my life.

My dad, though? He didn't need to. He lived in a gorgeous townhouse in Philly that his wife bought before she met him. She's a pioneering lawyer, one of the 1st females, senior partner in a well connected law firm. So at that point he was probably banking 80% of his income, and had another 10 years to go. He had a company Cadillac (new every 2 years), a company gas card, and I'd say most of what he bought was on the company credit card. He went on 3 or 4 major trips a year, cruises, sightseeing across the world, golfing in AZ, etc. He was president of a major bottling company with about 50 brands and 20 bottling plants throughout the upper east coast. When he was tight on time for a meeting in NYC, he'd call up a helicopter to pick him up from the parking lot in Philly and take him to the NYC office. And then he'd stay at the company apartment, that was reserved for him, and the drivers would ferry him about. He ate in restaurants with no signs on the door and no prices on the menu, 2 waiters per table, wearing white gloves. He never flinched when the bill showed up, and he certainly never let anyone else pay.

As my sister would say, it's good to be king.

You tell me, was he wealthy?

And no, when he hit this stage in life I was no longer living with him and didn't hang out with him. I didnt even know him. Sure, I grew up in the same house, but I saw him about once a week, and never during tax season.