Oh the Glory of It All, indeed. As a too-young rich boy, author Sean Wilsey had a ringside seat to his father’s working his mother, their divorce proceedings, and the San Francisco society pages like a true scum maestro. He subsequently bought his mother gallons of ice cream and stuck his penis through a hole in a Playboy centerfold. Under a blanket of helicopter noise, he screamed “fuck you”s to Dad. Mom told him she’d be dead by Christmas. Glory is not meant to ride the existential coattails of Jamie Johnson’s documentary Born Rich, in which spoiled heirs dissect their disconnectedness and generally don’t care about anyone but themselves. Wilsey is actually interesting, and his prose touching, as he rummages through his Cali family’s wing-nut escapades. Yeah, the poor kid’s lonely, too, but he eventually learns about pot, and his mom learns about peace. Wilsey reads at 7 p.m. at Politics and Prose, 5015 Connecticut Ave. NW. Free. (202) 364-1919. (Jason Cherkis)