You ask me about the mood in Palm Beach? I’d like to tell you, but I’m sitting here with my head between my legs crying, and I can’t look around me. I got up a while ago, but slipped on my tears and hurt my back. But let me see if I can somehow crawl over to the computer and lift my heavy hands to the keyboard and type out a few pathetic words.

I hope you’ve guessed by now — we’re depressed down here in Palm Beach. Across the Inland Waterway in West Palm Beach, there are families sleeping in cars and men making their beds under the railroad bridges. But here in paradise we’ve got real problems. I’ve got a friend who has to fly commercial! She doesn’t have the money to use private planes any longer. She’s humiliated. That’s how brutal things have become. The people next door took what he calls a "nicking" on the Madoff business: He lost $5 to $10 million. Thank God it wasn’t serious money. Some people have lost everything. That’s too bad, but we’ve got dinner plans.

You want to shop? Be careful when you go into Neiman Marcus. The chain is down, and it’s got to be worse on Worth Avenue. The salespeople live on 10% commissions and they’re desperate. At the door they’ll grab you like a used-car salesman and won’t let you go. Say anything, but if you can get out of there with your life, head down the avenue. Everything is for sale. What’s a lousy 40% off? That’s book value. Name your own price. Take away those Guccis. I’m not a shopper. My wife does it. So that’s the only brand-name I know. Sorry.

Stop for dinner. You’ll get a deal there, too. Only $29.95 for a three-course dinner. Don’t let them embarrass you. The hell with bottled water. And if you’re still hungry, fill up on the bread. And watch the wine. One glass should do it.

You’re going to the Halitosis Ball this evening? That’s great! That’s one of the newer charities. There are about 150 major charity events each season, and that was the only disease left. You’ll get a good table because these events are generally down about 50%.

Look, sweetheart, this is the new Palm Beach. For more than a century, the mega-wealthy came here, and no matter what happened, they had gay old times. Good old Jack Kennedy, remember him? "Playboy Jack" we called him. He used to come down from Harvard in the ’30s. He said it wasn’t until years later that he even realized there was a Great Depression.

Well, they realize it now in Palm Beach. And they’re not happy. They’re angry and they can’t figure out with whom to be angry! Of course, they’re angry at Bernie Madoff, but that’s only a beginning. If President Bush had been a Democrat they would be angry at him, but you can’t blame a Republican. Who can you blame? You know what I think? They’re going to blame it on me. My new book, Madness Under the Royal Palms, came out last month. It exposes the island far beneath its Botoxed features. I’m the one who created this incredible mess and now I’m trying to benefit from it.

If you want to know more about the mood in Palm Spring, take a peek at our story "Palm Beach Cleans out Closets for Quick Cash – Consignment Shops Loaded With ‘Madoff Inventory.’"

More! Here’s a slide show of fabulous Palm Beach finds!