ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact

One a scale of one to ten regarding his anxiety toward his future, Max Stacey says he’s about a two.

And most of that two, he says, is to do with things that he cannot control.

“Like antibiotic resistance, or war, or climate collapse,” he said.

“But that’s about it.”

The 28-year-old is part of the Stacey family, which once owned the vast Algonquin Station to the east of our cosmopolitan desert republic.

For years, Max explained, his family toiled on the land and times were tough. Then his grandfather had the bright idea of running for council, which then allowed him to get in the town planner’s ear and get much of the western portion of Algonquin rezoned for residential development.

The family made hundreds of millions of dollars from the sale and since then, has founded a family office while the next generation of Staceys works to consolidate the wealth.

“I sometimes feel made seeing my friends renting these little shitboxes in town, knowing they’ll probably never own anything other than a clapped out Corolla and half a packet of John Player Specials. Honestly, it really does make me feel guilty seeing them try to get a little stack together for the future,”

“And all I have to do is pretty much just wait. Sure, I could be a lawyer or a doctor or something else like that but why? For my own personal satisfaction? Maybe. I have a cousin who’s a civil engineer. No idea why he bothers,”

When asked what he does for work, Max said he does freelance work in music and film.

“It’s not exactly a river of gold, I hardly chase my invoices. Mum thinks it’s great I’m following my passion, Dad just looks at me,” he laughed.

“Yeah, well. What can you do?”

Our reporter spoke to one of Max’s friends, who said, ‘he came out of the wrong penis into the wrong vagina then came out of said vagina in the wrong postcode,’ when compared to his dear friend.

He doesn’t begrudge him or think less of him. In fact, he respects Max for owning his own situation.

“Some of Max’s contemporaries think they’ve made it all on their own where Max knows that he’s only able to spend three days a week in the hammock because of who his parents are,” they said.

“I like that. He’s not smug or full of himself. He’s just a pussy little rich boy and he knows it. His unrushed way of life is underpinned by the huge inheritance coming his way,”

“Tell you what, I’m glad I’m not him. I’d rather roll the dice getting rich and feeling that feeling than being born rich. But then again, there’s every chance I’ll eat shit and die [laughs] the duality of the modern Australian, I guess.”

More to come.


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