April marked the 100th anniversary of the publication of “The Great Gatsby.” That got me to thinking about F. Scott Fitzgerald’s quote about rich people: “They are different from you and me.” What would you be if you were wealthy? Would you be the kind of person who uses money for the common good or would you be more inclined to use it for your own good?

Let’s start with the latter. As for me, if I were a rich man, I’d:

Live at the Carlyle Hotel on New York’s Upper East Side. In the late afternoon, my wife and I would have luscious cocktails in Bemelmans Bar and in the evening be awed by whatever chanteuse is entertaining in the Cafe.

Spend a month or two in our beach houses in Martha’s Vineyard and St. Simons Island.

Buy a well-bred 2-year-old at a Keeneland horse auction and partner with a winning trainer in a quest for a post position in the Kentucky Derby a year later.

Take world cruises in the penthouse suites of luxury liners.

For travel by car, our personal chauffeur would drive us anywhere we needed to go.

For longer trips, say to the grandkids’ home in a distant state or to our manor across the Atlantic in the Cotswolds, our personal pilot would fly us there in our Embraer Phenom 300 jet.

There’d be no need to look at the dollar sign ratings of restaurants. Since the world is our oyster, why not have oysters in dining rooms with Michelin stars?

You get the idea. Think Stone Barrington in Stuart Woods novels.

If I’m honest, self-indulgence would likely trump altruism. Sure, we’d donate generously to mental health-related nonprofits, progressive political organizations and the arts. I’d try to get a seat on corporate boards that are open to putting public interest over private profit. I’d also use whatever influence I have to goad private and government sector leaders into taking a hard look at what makes countries like Finland and Denmark much happier than the United States year after year, according to the annual World Happiness Report. Two key factors, by the way, are wider social safety nets and much less income inequality. After all, to quote John F. Kennedy, “If a rich society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.”

But it’s still fun, isn’t it, to dream about being at the high end of the wealth scale? I bet I’m not alone. Yes, I know money can’t buy your health, but it can certainly buy better health care. I know money can’t buy happiness but, as an anonymous wit once said, “it can buy you the misery you prefer.” Or as Jackie Mason said, “Money is not the most important thing in the world. Love is. Fortunately, I love money.”

In the scheme of things, of course, it’s more important to be content and healthy and loved than it is to be rich. But why not have it all? At the very least, with riches we wouldn’t worry as much about the future of Social Security and the fate of our 401k accounts, which lately are 401 not ok. Financial freedom would reduce a lot of life’s stressors, and I’m pretty sure I’d also be more content in a suite at the Ritz than a room in the Holiday Inn.

As for love, though, I’m lucky that my wife is the kind of person who’s fine with the Holiday Inn. Booking the Ritz wouldn’t make her love me any more — but It sure would be nice to see her face light up when we walked into that Ritz lobby.

We may splurge some day on a night or two at the Carlyle. Maybe we’ll have a dinner at the three-Michelin-star Le Bernardin a limo ride away on W. 51st Street. But those would be exceptions to our more modest routines. And that’s really enough. As another unknown sage said, “Happiness is not having what you want. It is appreciating what you have.” We do.

But there’s nothing wrong with a few flights of fancy every now and again.

Herb Cromwell (landhcromeagle@aol.com) is a retired nonprofit executive and occasional writer. He lives in Catonsville.