For his efforts I am told Mr. Limbaugh is somehow exceedingly well compensated. Certainly, as a conservative, I shan’t begrudge a man making a good living, even those among the GOP’s nouveaux riches. Where I draw the line is when he uses his money to purchase the estate adjoining Meticula, my family’s ancient winter manor in Palm Beach. Last year when I arrived for my annual January-March constitutional I was stunned to discover Mr.Limbaugh as my new neighbor. Literally stunned, as I was unceremoniously beaned by an errant ball from his private golf course as I was supervising the tent arrangements for an evening party in the gardens. Limbaugh had the minimum graces to drive his cart to the fence and offer an apology, but the sight of the obese cigar-puffing harlequin, clad in those garish chartreuse plaid plus fours and tam o’shanter, compelled that I muster an entire lifetime of good breeding to accept it. It should come as no surprise that I summoned my property manager the next morning and ordered him to put Meticula up for sale. It was a difficult decision, what with all the Bernard Madoff unpleasantness that so affected the Palm Beach real estate market and social calendar last year. For the life of me I can’t understand why Mr. Madoff is known as the “shame of Palm Beach” while Mr. Limbaugh still maintains an address in that once-exclusive village. Say what you will about the embattled financier Madoff, but at least he had the good taste to inhabit only the better Democratic clubs and progressive social circles. In any event, after 116 years in Van Voorhees hands, Meticula has passed on to new ownership. I took quite a financial bath in the bargain but it was worth it to escape further exposure to Limbaugh. It was also useful in shoring up a few recent liquidity problems in several of my trusts.