Puttin' on the Ritz
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Puttin' on the Ritz
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About this listen
PUTTIN’ ON THE RITZ
We go looking for happiness.
Honestly.
There’s nothing strange about that.
We live well here.
Safe.
Orderly.
And still
something doesn’t quite settle.
It’s subtle.
So discreet
we’ve almost gotten used to it.
We want to look
like life is working.
Like we’re headed
in the right direction.
So we dress ourselves in dreams.
Cars
that promise freedom.
Watches
that promise meaning.
Homes
that promise peace.
Restaurants.
Trips.
Access passes
to places where the happy people
surely are.
We know it’s a game.
And still,
we play along.
Because it feels good
to belong
for a moment.
The price is high.
It has to be.
Otherwise
the illusion doesn’t work.
If it were cheap,
it would just be things.
So we pay.
For the feeling.
For the story.
I know it myself.
It works.
I was seduced.
Bought quality.
Bought design.
But not the life
I imagined.
Instead
I became a little poorer.
Not only in money.
Because the dream kept moving.
There was always
another place.
Another brand.
Another promise.
And hope
kept standing in the doorway,
smiling.
Puttin’ on the Ritz.
As if elegance
could be purchased.
As if happiness
were a level
you could upgrade to.
Maybe that’s why
we keep going.
Not because we’re stupid.
But because we hope.
And hope
is hard
not to accept
when it’s wrapped
this beautifully.
/ Simon Philip