“If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.” – John F. Kennedy

When the Titanic sank on April 15, 1912, 68 percent of the passengers died. Ninety-four percent of the first-cabin women and children lived, but 47 percent of the steerage women and children died.

In separating the living from the dead on the Titanic, gender and age mattered, but so did class.

Lest any of us think that notions of class distinctions and the privileges of economic nobility might have faded since 1912, here’s a number to chew on.

In 1970, the wealthiest 1 percent of Americans took home 9.75 percent of our national income.

Today, that same 1 percent takes in 50 percent of the national income.

In other words, today, a tiny fraction of the people in this country earn more than the bottom 120 million Americans combined.

If the American ship of state hits another fiscal iceberg and goes down, for most of us, there won’t be any seats in the lifeboats.

Personally, I have nothing against the very wealthy. In fact, it’s a club I’d be only too happy to join. And I’d be a good rich person.

I’d maintain a level head and keep my feet planted firmly on the ground, but I’d be doing it with a better haircut and nicer shoes.

It seems like the kind of income disparity we’re seeing today is unhealthy and does not bode well for the future of our society. It’s hard to know who is to blame for the situation we find ourselves in.

I’m pretty sure it’s not teachers, firefighters or office workers. And the truth is, I can’t work up much real antipathy for wealthy people.

In fact, the few I actually know are, without exception, some of the nicest, most generous, public-spirited people you’d ever want to meet, the kind of people who take all the fun out of not liking them.

I’d join the chorus blaming President Obama for this and every other problem in our society, except to do so I’d have to ignore the fact that what we are seeing now is the result of a decades-long transfer of national wealth to the rich going back to Ronald Reagan. Besides, I don’t like to pick on a non-citizen.

Maybe there’s no one to blame. Maybe I’m just feeling cranky because it’s April 15 and I owe taxes I can’t afford to pay and just found out that last year Bristol Palin made more money than I did.

A lot more. And that’s Bristol Palin I’m talking about, not her mom, Sarah, who, by the way, made more money last year than I’ll make in my entire lifetime.

She deserves it because who wouldn’t pay millions of dollars to hear a syntax-challenged failed vice presidential candidate ex-Governor reality television star tell us what’s really wrong with this country.

Adding insult to injury, I’ve been left off the guest list for the Royal Wedding.

I feel stupid for having already bought the Royal Couple a nice toaster oven. Luckily I kept the receipt.

All in all, it’s been a pretty bleak spring so far, both internally and externally.

Thank God baseball season has arrived and we have the Mariners to cheer on to victory and lift our spirits.

I haven’t checked lately, but I assume they are doing well.

Tom Tyner is an attorney for the Trust for Public Land. He is author of “Skeletons From Our Closet,” a collection of writings on the island’s latte scene.