We can't help but stare wide-eyed as the wealthy fall

Here's why people love to read stories about the very rich who fail in very public ways: $30,000 dogs.

The dogs were among the amazing Lifestyles of the Rich and Infamous details to emerge from the sad but spectacular demise of Denny Hecker the past week or so in bankruptcy court.

Other delicious tidbits trickled out over the past few days, including on Thursday details about Hecker's credit card expenditures at Neiman Marcus: He paid off debt of $130,000 this past year, which led me to wonder how in the world he got out of NM for any less than $150,000? I hear that's like trying to get out of Costco for $300.

The next paragraph in the story explained: He still owed $198,000. That's more like it. (It's always the accessories).

The trustee also said Hecker had six Harley-Davidson motorcycles he had planned to resell. Now, as a former Kawasaki guy with Harley envy, I can understand keeping one. But why do you need six when you only have one rear end?

Minnesotans would rather talk publicly about their sex lives than their finances. So when Hecker's excesses were unveiled in bankruptcy court like an episode of "Let's Make a Deal," Minnesotans sat mesmerized and, like the contestants on a game show, wide-eyed the merchandise.

In some ways, we may have been anesthetized to such unmitigated gluttony by earlier actions against Ponzi schemers as their wealth was seized and scattered. Rolex watches? Yawn.

A $60,000 fur coat for your loved one? Maybe for your wife, but Hecker gave it to his "friend" instead. Not very Minnesotan.

Seriously, two German shepherds worth $30,000? Each?

Minnesotans get their dogs from the pound, or maybe Uncle Bud. I got my latest one from a rescue group in South Dakota. I gave a donation to the group in the parking lot of a PetSmart in Sioux Falls, and they gave me a hyperactive boxer that drools and snores.

I did pay $300 for my last boxer. It would have been $350 except that he had only one testicle, so they knocked fifty bucks off the price. That led to my wife's best line ever. She turned to me and said: "At least now you know what they're really worth."

But back to Hecker, greed, debauchery, vainglorious spending and $30,000 German shepherds.

That's because I live in the real world, the world of 11-year-old Chryslers, sturdy cloth coats, Timex watches and a dog that pees by the door when we're gone, in plain English. The world in which you pay for the things you want with your own money.

Dismantling of fortunes

It's that world to which some of Minnesota's once most prominent and flamboyant entrepreneurs have been introduced to this past year. Even those not yet wearing prison orange have seen their fortunes dismantled, their prized possessions gobbled up for a pittance by their contemporaries who either succeeded the old-fashioned way, or who have not been caught yet.

And thus the gawker-slowdown-at-an-accident fascination.

Of the many scenes we've seen from the wreckage of white-collar crimes this year, the homes and businesses raided, the tearful court appearances, two stand out as emblematic of a singular, tragic time in Minnesota business.

One was included in some news accounts. According to police reports from Crosslake, where Hecker owns a multi-million dollar home, the weekend after his business was raided, Hecker's wife locked him out of the Crosslake mansion when he went to the garage to get some chicken. Hecker told police he could see her in the window, waving a handgun.

Some children were in another window, expressing an emotion probably shared by many who lost their money or jobs because of Hecker. According to the report, the kids were showing their middle fingers at him while laughing as Hecker tried to get back in using a screwdriver.

Denny, meet real world.

The other scene, one showing impressive resiliency, was reported last Sunday by my colleague, CJ. After his grueling and likely humiliating experience in court describing how he'd lost millions, Hecker did the only thing a man in his position could do, the only thing men in his position seem to know how to do in such times.

He went to Manny's steakhouse for dinner.