Squalid success

Already logged 10, 539 steps this morning and it’s only 7:25 a.m., thanks to Older Daughter’s work schedule. It’s hard not to feel virtuously smug about my new dawn ritual. Makes Ben Franklin’s “morning question” easier to answer. “What good shall I do this day?” We’ll see, but whatever it is will be frosting.

The centering subject of this morning’s ramble was “Success.” William James still gets the first and last word on that, in my book.  He wrote to H.G. Wells in 1906 of “the moral flabbiness born of the exclusive worship of the bitch-goddess SUCCESS. That – with the squalid cash interpretation put on the word ‘success’ – is our national disease.”

I think TB-B missed that one.

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