He's a Cinderella for the modern age. Gifted by economic conditions created by a man who relied largely on astrology, not unlike the witches in many a Disney film, Michael D. Eisner, chair of the Disney corporation, was able to attend the orgy of consumption that was the American 1980s.

While much of the populace languished in poverty, Eisner became one of the most successful and highest paid executives in America. But the ball is almost over. Eisner sees January 20, 1993 as the proverbial stroke of midnight for his personal fortune and is acting accordingly.

Instead of realizing that he benefited from the climate of corporate turmoil that was due to the policies (or lack thereof) of the government, he is eating the pumpkin and killing the horses out of spite for the society from which they sprang. There is, however, one key difference lost in transition to the modern world: Cinderella always believed in a better day.

Eisner apparently does not. His cashing in of $197.5 million in personal stock options on Tuesday was one of the most cynical and selfish acts anyone has committed in the presidential transition period. It sent a message of no confidence rippling through the world of finance. Yes, it saved the multi-millionaire $16 million. And yes, he issued a statement about it.

"While it may be positive that the new administration plans to raise all sorts of taxes to help reduce the federal deficit, some of these proposals will have a negative impact on your company, especially in the area of executive compensation."

Michael Eisner's lack of faith in the American future comes shining through like the reflection off of Cruella's gold tooth in "101 Dalmations." Eisner is all for the economic recovery of America as long as he doesn't have to pay for it.

Sure, long term financial solvency for this nation is a laudable goal unless his deep pockets might be touched. The United States faces an enormous task if it is to climb out of the pit of debt that was dug in the 1980s. Actions such as Eisner's are simply another shovelful of dirt thrown in the face of those who seek a better day.

In theory, the concept that the wealthy have an obligation to take their financial lumps like most of America did in the past decade is a debatable one. But Eisner is not simply wealthy.

Anyone who can dump close to $200 million in stock options in one day and heads a corporation that is worth $22 billion is mega-rich. It would be reasonable to guess that he doesn't need the $16 million in question to pay the mortgage. Nor is he likely to use it to put food on the table, unless Eisner is planning to feed all of Orlando.

As long as the executive elite in this country can weasel their way out of responsibility, they will. Unlike most, they can pick when to restructure their stock portfolios and shirk their duty to a country that has treated them more than fairly.

As Disney's chair, Eisner heralded the return of classic family entertainment that Disney's recovery brought with it. But now Eisner is reintroducing a concept that is far older than Mickey Mouse--the concept of unrestrained greed.

Never mind that during the 1980s the top 5 percent of American wage earners saw their incomes double as a whole, Michael Eisner has personal rights to exercise. Never mind that the Reagan-Bush years reset the average family's after tax income to 1970s levels, Eisner sees a loophole. Never mind that because of 12 years of Republican rule, the bottom tenth of Americans watched their average income decrease 14.8 percent, because Eisner wants his dough and he wants it now.

Eisner wouldn't even let Bill be inaugurated before he bailed out.

The issue here is larger than the personal fortune of Michael Eisner. The issue at stake is leadership. Eisner would be the first to say he is a incredibly influential corporate leader. His turnaround of Disney was nothing if not impressive.

But now, in the waning days of the second Gilded Age, he is leading an exodus of confidence in this country's future. Last Tuesday's sell-out is touching off an avalanche of corporate whoring in the weeks before that bright morning in January when Clinton officially takes over.

Disney's president, Frank G. Wells, also dumped $60 million of his stock on Tuesday. Several major recording artists are reportedly renegotiating their publishing rights contracts to avoid a possible tax hike. And Morgan Stanley, the investment banking firm, is offering to pay bonuses early to duck the proposed rate increases. This isn't the sort of leadership that Eisner should be offering at this key crossroads.

At the beginning of this financially crucial holiday season, millions will flock to see Disney's "Aladdin." The story of the genie, the lamp and the three wishes might, in some indirect way, encourage the public to ask themselves what they wish for the next four years.

But Michael Eisner, obsessed with money he cannot possibly need, is spinning quite a different tale. He believes that the lamp is broken, the genie is dead, that there is only one wish left and that wish belongs to him. He would wish for gratuitous personal gain over national economic confidence.

Eisner would make a superb Midas, should Disney ever decide to undertake such a project. Let's hope the rest of the corporate community does not spawn sequels.