I used to know this guy in Toronto who, like Eddie, was incredibly rich — and had more issues with it than you could possibly imagine. People were always hitting him up for loans they had no intention of paying back (“Hey, he can afford it!” was the standard rationale, usually coupled with “He’ll just take it off his taxes!”). The few of us who didnt treat him like an ATM machine had to tolerate — and there is no other word for it — his need to pay every restaurant check, no matter how large or small. You’d think it was great — a free meal, after all — but after a while, it got incredibly awkward. We stopped inviting him and limited our contact to phone calls and the occasional walk in the park… but never an event where money was a requirement.

I guess he got sick of it as well, because suddenly, for no real reason, he just gave it all away. It was something like (and I’m estimating here) ten million, which he distributed to a hundred charities and God only knows how many homeless people along Yonge Street. Almost overnight, his bank account went from eight digits to a slightly anemic six. He got a job, moved to a smaller apartment… and was just as miserable as he was before. The problems didnt disappear. They just adapted to new surroundings.

Eddie was built off this man, save that, of course, in his case, Ed kept the cash. Still, his relationship to his wealth is just as complex as my friend’s was with his own. He does indeed live in a fairy tale, with a Prince Charming… but happily ever after? Dont be so certain about that.