To my surprise – and my amusement – it seems that some people around here really believe that I happen to be the richest resident of Noosa!

Moi? Danksta Downunder with plenty of Capital D for Dollars? Since when did I become the richest resident of Noosa? Have I been keeping more secrets than a Swiss bank from myself?

Who started this rumour of my having acquired such werewithal? Wherever did the notion that I'm a member of Clubbe Well Off And Then Some With A Whole Lotta Motsa come from?

I found out about this pricey perception of me last week, while perched at my regular refreshment roost in Noosa Junction, an establishment of Celtic inclination that rhymes with down-to-earthy!

While I was sidling to the bar for another side of cider, barmaid Julia told me that she had noticed a local group of young people sitting at one of the veranda tables looking and pointing at me with compound interest, and then she overheard them talking about me with awe and envy.

Julia reported to me that this group have the idea that I am the Numero Uno Currency Cruncher around here, and that I also own an extensive portfolio of properties and investments around Noosa.

These people believe that I am a multi-millionaire in eccentric disguise! Julia and I had a chuckle about my purported fortune at the same time as I calculated whether I had accumulated enough points on my PubPlus card to redeem a pint of cider.

It's fascinating to find out what some people imagine to be the lives that other people lead. It's also very funny to gauge the distance between reality and the outlandish array of assumptions that distort it.

I've had more colourful changes of my channel than a chameleon's biography.

I am indeed a resident of Noosa, ergo I must be somewhere up in the BRW-brokered bracket of exponentially increasing income or well on my way to it any day now. I also have a beard, ergo I must be as well heeled as Richard Branson. I'm in this newspaper, ergo I must be a media magnate.

Then again, lots of people assume that anyone who is a Noosanaut must have a very long line of naughts following whatever amount is in their account. Noosanauts must also wonder about how much other Noosanauts are really worth or worth not.

If only I could remember what I did with all that wealth. I'm sure the financial institutions would only be all too eager to re-acquaint me with it.

There must be many very needy people wrestling with all that wealth I've supposedly dispensed and distributed. I'm sure that they will put it to good use rather than lavish it all on themselves and fritter it away like I must have.

What became of all those properties that propped up my profligate lifestyle? Maybe a stroll amongst the prime Location / Location / Locations of Noosa will remind me of my true address. Perhaps a perusal of the property pages will reconnect me with all the realty across my realm.

My own understanding of wealth is this: It's the quality of life itself that makes anyone rich.

Thankfully, I'm not a starving, street-dwelling, illiterate, ill, helpless or hopeless soul. Nor am I someone planning to climb the highest peak of prosperity or the slanting slope of social status.

I am content not to be dwelling in a designer domicile crammed with cravings, credits, digital doodads, labels, models, premium products, treats and treasures, being blinded by belongings that go bling!

Who is the richest here, there or anywhere? It's not the economy stupid! It's all of us! End of story!