So we spent the better part of a week talking about how Donald Sterling, the owner of the Los Angeles Clippers, proved that money can’t buy you brains. But Donnie proved something else that he didn’t get as much press for.

Money can buy you love.

Famous archivist V. Stiviano, counting. (image via V.Stiviano/instagram)

The woman he was talking to when he said “don’t bring black people to my games” was 31-year-old V. Stiviano. According to the press, Ms. Stiviano was Mr. Sterling’s mistress. According to Ms. Stiviano’s lawyer, she was Sterling’s archivist.

Yeah, that’s what the kids are calling it. Ms. Stiviano was archiving Mr. Sterling. Donald Sterling is 80 years old. He is nearly fifty years older than the woman who is archiving him.

Having A Young Archivist Isn’t All It’s Cracked Up To Be

This whole archiving business is the other reason I couldn’t be like Donald Sterling. I am 52 years old. For the sake of argument, let’s say my blog finally made me insanely rich and I had a 22-year-old archivist.

First of all, I don’t know that I could live with the idea that, every time I had a business meeting with my archivist in a bar or at a sporting event, people would be saying that she was only archiving me because I had a really immense bank account. I’d feel awful for her, because I’m sure she’d just really dig me even though I could be her father or grandfather.

And what about what they’d say about me? “Look at him, another rich old coot hooking up with a hot young archivist. Who does he think he’s fooling?” Deep down, I think I’d know I’d only be fooling myself.

Of course, I could pay myself to believe she’d keep my records even if I were not an incredibly well paid blogger.

That Was Great. Best Two Minutes Of My Life. What Do You Wanna Talk About?

Yeah, I’m sure if he were poor he’d be getting archived just as much. (image via

But do you know what would really make being like Donald Sterling an unattractive idea to me? Spending time with my archivist when she wasn’t managing my archive, if you know what I’m saying. What on earth do I have in common with a 22-year-old woman?

Well, besides a heart and lungs, not a lot. Now in saying that, I’m not saying anything disrespectful about young women.  When I was 22 I thought they were great. And you know what? I was right – back then. And I’d still be right if I were still 22.

But I’m not 22 anymore. At our different stages of life, we need different things. Our generations have different tastes. I have seen things that my archivist would only know of because her history teacher told her about them. How many times will she pretend that she’s fascinated by my recollections of the Watergate scandal? How many times will she explain snap-chat to me before she gets sick of it and starts preserving some other guy’s records?…if you know what I’m saying, and I think you do.

And what about music? My generation doesn’t look at a twenty-two year old archivists  and think “I’ll bet she has great taste in music”. If I said something like “I’ve got Bruce Springsteen tickets” and she said “who?” I swear that I would kick her out of my library…I don’t care how well she archived me.

Now don’t get me wrong, my primary reason for being glad that I’m not Donald Sterling is that I’m not a racist boob. But this whole younger archivist thing just seals the deal.