I’m working on my 23rd cuppa, or thereabouts, enjoying the beautifully clear, crispy-cold morning, and as usual, reading some news.
There’s an article in this morning’s The NY Times front page, piling more background on top of the Lance Armstrong debacle. (“Lance, we never knew ye . . . “) Folks are seriously up-turning the pressure. One might say they’re boiling the Lance. (Go ahead, chuckle. I dare ya’.) I’ve also included an article from Outside magazine that caught my eye earlier this year.
Most — if not all of us — spent some time in kindergarten, where perhaps for the first time we learned about waiting our turn, waiting in line, raising our hand to speak, etc. In other words, at the very least we were introduced to polite, societal behavior; how to live well within our Village. For some (most?) the lesson stuck, and we grew up recognizing the advantages of working together.
For others however, kindergarten was a training ground of another sort. Some learned that cutting in line paid a dividend. And as those individuals got older, they learned how to spin the tale. Eventually, folks like these elbow their way to the top of whatever heap they’ve chosen in life. But their existence there is precarious because all the other Villagers — who paid attention in kindergarten and learned all those important lessons — don’t like being cheated or shoved or duped.
To use a term that’s somewhat in vogue these days, it’s malarkey to say, “Cheaters never prosper”. Cheaters do prosper. That’s why cheaters cheat. That’s why they steal and lie and do all the other things that most of us find repugnant, repulsive and disgusting; because cheaters prosper.
Until they get caught.
