Poor
By and large, being poor pretty much sucks, at least if you're poor through no choice of your own. Which, if you think about it, is probably the only way you can really be poor. I don't know that you can count your self-imposed poverty types--people who could have existed in another socioeconomic status but chose to get all ascetic, as a kind of statement--as being truly poor. Being truly poor is not being able to get enough food to eat, or shelter, or basic health care. Being truly poor is feeling all hemmed in and claustrophobic and angry about the unjustness of society. Being truly poor is having to make a living off pedaling your bicycle around, putting up posters, for a pittance, until one day your bicycle gets stolen, and then you have to search the poor section of town, frantic, until the moment you decide to steal some other poor sap's bicycle and thus propagate the vicious circle of poverty. Unless, of course, you're one of the happy poor. It's entirely possible that you could be one of those cheerful peasant types, who are in touch with the earth, because they work the land, and know the phases of the moon, and who get together and perform jolly peasant dances to jolly peasant instruments when harvest time comes. Being that kind of poor is pretty good, possibly all life has to offer. The other kind...no food, no shelter, no warm clothing, no medicine, no dignity, is just horrible. On the plus side, however, being poor gets you the sympathy of bohemian well-off people, who write stories about your plight, and make documentary films and stuff. So while your children may be starving, at least your terrible situation is well-documented, with real feeling and complexity and depth.
Rating: $ out of $$$$$ (unless you're the happy peasant, who gets $$$$ out of $$$$$)


Middle Class
Being middle class (without going into all the various possible levels of middle classness, your uppers and lowers and whatnot) is pretty much the cat's meow. Basically, you get pretty damn close to a free ride in life, with plenty to eat, nice warm clothing, a perfectly serviceable and comfortable home, a decent education, a fine, if not terribly stimulating job, and, for lack of a better term, a solid identity. You know who you are when you're middle class: you're the mainstream (unless you happen to live in a third world country or in the middle ages, in which case you're kind of an odd duck). Politicians fawn over you, and pledge to work hard to ensure a happy, successful future for you and your children. Rich and poor alike envy you your comfortable place within the anonymous masses. You, for your part, can comfortably judge both the poor (who probably deserve their bad fortune) and the rich (who are probably miserable in spite of, or even because of, all that dough) alike, secure in the knowledge that society is on your side. You know what the man in the street has to say about the matter, because, by God, you are the man in the street (unless you're the woman in the street, in which case you're fine with that, too). If you have a tendency to be a malcontent, you can actually work hard to become either rich or poor, or you can sit pat and suffer fashionable anguish about the emptiness of your materialistic, bourgeoisie existence. In short, you've got it made in the shade.
Rating: $$$$$ out of $$$$$

Rich
Being rich is a bit more tricky than being poor or middle class. For starters, while you can't really get more middle class, and you can only get so much poorer (credit not being something that gets extended to the poor in great amounts), you can always definitely be more rich, and since the sky is pretty much the limit, there's always someone richer and stupider than you whose success can just really rub you the wrong way. How in the name of all that is holy did she get to be so rich? Well, Daddy's little pet, of course. Being able to sample life's finer side, while it may seem great, can lead to a dreadful case of boredom. There are only so many toys to buy, pleasures to try out, situations you can finagle with cash on the barrel. Additionally, on the negative side, the government just keeps trying to outsmart your accountant and take away some of your money, and both poor people and middle class people can be so judgmental and negative. On the plus side, you know that, historically, people of your socioeconomic status have tended to keep getting richer, so there's that to look forward to. Plus, are you kidding me? Let the teeming masses think whatever they want, imagining how miserable rich people must be--being rich is just plain awesome! Money can't buy me happiness? Then happiness, my friend, is greatly overrated.
Rating: $$$$ out of $$$$$ (with one $ subtracted on a lark, because it seems deliciously ironic)

What Went Well

What Didn't Go Well

"The 3-year warranty is a mere formality. Trust me. If you change your oil and bring the car in for your regular check-ups, the odds of any serious problems are slim. This technology has proven to be reliable."

"Now, this car has 10,000 parts being operated by computers. If something goes wrong, god forbid, you could spend more than the cost of your warranty on diagnostics alone."

• "Our current car is 13 years old and just now starting to break down."
• "Who's buying the car? You or me?*"
• "Are you saying the Prius is the wrong car for us?"
• "If you spew out one more stupid argument, I'm going back over to Honda."

Final Ratings on Car Purchase Experience

I grew up in Colorado (Alamosa until I was 12, then Grand Junction), so I can confidently say that I speak with no accent whatsoever. This puts me in an excellent position to rate the accents of others.

Note that I shall, for the purpose of this review, consider only accents of native English speakers. Which means I won’t allow myself to review accents like German, Indian, Swedish, and Korean. Those will have to wait for another day.

 

Australian Accent

Everyone who does not have an Australian (or New Zealand, same thing) accent wishes they had an Australian accent. And for good reason. The Australian accent augments whatever you’re trying to say, lending it punch and interest. When Australians are happy, they sound extra-happy, though not goofily so. They might simply be saying, “G’day, mate” to you like they do to everyone, but it sounds like they’re about to ask you to dinner. Conversely, when they’re angry, they sound murderous.

An example. Whenever my Australian friend Nick asked if I wanted to go biking, I’d always say yes, because he made it sound like so much more fun than it actually is. It was the accent, I’m convinced.

The only thing wrong with the Australian accent is it’s very difficult to synthesize. Whenever I try to do an Australian accent, people ask me if I’m doing my British Dandy impression. To which I answer, “Look, when’s the last time a British Dandy asked you if you wanted to put a shrimp on the barby, mate? Crikey.” A+

 

British Dandy Accent

When I call friends and family on the phone, I invariably either do my Very Old Jimmy Stewart impression (“Weeehhhllll, young man, I seem to have unintentionally voided my bladder. Isn’t that peculiar?”) or my British Dandy impression (“Pip pip! Cheerio and Bob’s your uncle!”)

Everyone finds this funny, no matter how often I do this. I know that people find these impressions funny because if they don’t laugh at the first impression, they laugh at the second one. And this is not an “OK, I’ve laughed at your ancient, stupid impression, can we move on, please” type of laugh.

Anyway.

Really, I don’t know if there are any British Dandies left in the world. I’ve heard their accent exclusively in Monty Python sketches and the Mary Poppins movie. So when I say “British Dandy” accent, what I really mean is Eric Idle playing a British Dandy, crossed with Dick Van Dyke’s impression of Eric Idle playing a British Dandy. Which is a great accent, if you want to seem ridiculous. Which I often do.

I like to think that if I were British, I would still do the British Dandy accent when making phone calls. I’d just do it more convincingly. A-

 

Southern Accent

The Southern accent is going to be complicated to rate, because how good it sounds depends on both the age and gender of the person speaking. Specifically:

• Age 6 and Under (Both Genders): Little kids of both genders sound as precious as can be when they speak with a southern twang. I regret that when hearing these cute little kids, I am rarely able to overcome the impulse to yell, “Run, Forrest! Run!”
• Age 7 to Age 40 (Female): The charm of the little southern girl actually increases with age, as she becomes a southern belle.  By the time southern women reach their mid-twenties, the cuteness of their voice is staggering, and should be considered a weapon.
• Age 7 to Age 18 (Male): Sadly (for them), as southern boys age, their accent does them no favors, denying them an increasing number of perceived IQ points, using the formula:

PIQ = AIQ – ((A-6) * 3)

Where

PIQ = Perceived IQ

AIQ = Actual IQ

A = Age

So, for example, a 14-year-old southern boy with an actual IQ of 120 (ie, smart as a tack) will have a perceived IQ of 96 (slightly below average). By the time the same boy reaches age 18, he will have a perceived IQ of 84 (dumb as a post).

• Age 19 to 40 (Male): Unfortunately (for them), as they age, the male southern accent does not lose its dumbifying effect. It makes up for this, however, by adding a tone of increasingly bitter menace. I’ve never come up with a formula for this, however, because I don’t like being around southern men of this age for more than a couple minutes at a time.
• Age 41 to 120 (Male and Female): Upon reaching middle age, the southern accent suddenly stops conveying charm (women) or stupidity and menace (men), and now lends a tone of wisdom and mellow conviviality. Why yes, sir/ma’am. I believe I will have another mint julep. Thank you for offering.

In the end, the southern accent deserves considerable respect because of the extraordinary diversity of ways it can color the meaning of words. I’d give it a B+, except I’m forced to dock it a full letter for that unfortunate “slackjawed evil” tone it lends the male half of the population for a fair portion of their lives. C+

 

Irish Accent

The only time I ever wish for a different accent than Australian is when I’m listening to an Irish person. The problem with this accent, however, is it’s been hopelessly infected by Lucky Charms commercials. That stupid Lucky Charms guy sounds just Irish enough that he pollutes and cheapens the whole experience for me. Also, I have no luck at all imitating an Irish accent, which tells me that it’s needlessly complex. That said, it’s an ebullient accent that makes me dream of being able to say “begorrah” with strength and conviction. Oh, and it makes my eyes want to smile, too. But my eyes don’t smile. They just sit there, impassively, in their Colorado way. In fact, I just checked the mirror, and it looks like my eyes are kind of sad and droopy, even though I'm perfectly merry right now. Damn it. A

 

Minnesotan Accent

I know one guy from Minnesota: Dug. He doesn’t have the Minnesotan accent—by which I mean the accent that everyone has in the movie Fargo. Too bad for Dug, because this accent lends the speaker a Garrison Keillor-esque tone that Dug could really benefit from. Ie, the Minnesotan tone is earnest, conciliatory, unassuming, and scrupulous.

Of course, now that I mention all these traits, I can see why Dug isn’t all that interested in sounding like a Minnesotan.

But, still, I wish I could pull off a good Minnesotan accent, because I would then quote Fargo day and night. Oh sure. You betcha. B+

- Elden