Instead of obsessing about gas prices, Omicron, the stock market, our excruciatingly slow home renovation, losing those pandemic pounds, and all the other anxieties keeping me from a good night’s sleep, I will remember that I am not fighting or fleeing for my life.
May all our collective prayers for peace in Ukraine be answered.
Money can fund philanthropy, the arts, technical innovation, beauty, medical breakthroughs, and many public services we take for granted.
Jealousy has a lot less to recommend it (though it might provoke healthy competition).
In our tiny neighborhood, jealousy has recently run amok. Sometimes expressed in the loathsome designations “up the hill” or “down the hill”, we’ve got an awful lot of neighbors (in both senses) obsessively focused on who has a better view, a nicer house, a prettier yard, or an apparently easier life.
Oh, this is seldom verbalized in any direct way. The jealousy is cloaked in righteous indignation: “Those damn so-and-so’s are breaking the rules again!” by allowing their dog to escape the yard and do its business “wherever it chooses”. The finger-pointers didn’t bothered to learn that said dog was dying of cancer and unable to control its bodily functions. (Dog died=problem solved=do move on, please.)
Then, there are false and oft-repeated claims that the committee responsible for managing the landscaper’s schedule spends the budget keeping the areas near the ocean looking good “for the benefit of the people who live down the hill”. Yet, these same folks are the first to grumble if their view becomes overgrown.
And finally, complaints about matters long since resolved, such as whether someone’s outdoor lighting is too bright. (Consider: #1 There are no street lamps in the community, #2 Ever thought about getting window shades?, #3 Maybe if you asked nicely?)
Sheesh. Have a nice glass of vitriol and (don’t) call me in the morning. I’ll be working on my next rant.