November 10, 2024

By Arthur H. Gunther III

thecolumnrule.com

Morning is such a delicious thing – at times. Worries that kept you tossing at night seem washed from stinging emotion; birds sing; a cool breeze wafts in the slice of an open fall window; the bones don’t ache as much; and optimism, however fleet, is as fresh as the pulling scent of fresh-made coffee.

For many of us, but not all, such a morning happens in a topsy-turvy world where there is war and children are collateral, where individual opportunity to succeed is blocked by time and place and the same race for profit that raises rent and grocery prices, where the promise of recovery through strength is actually an egocentric play from charlatans.

Ah, but the rare morning is fresh, and while this endomorphin will not last, so, too, will pass those who betray humanity by indifference to suffering; by proclaiming that unrelenting hardship is good for you; that sharing resources, opportunity, charity, goodwill, compassion is a liberalism that weakens you in the rat race. Got to get to the finish no matter how many faltering people you step over.

Serious, vital, timely topics. Put off for another night when you toss. But this morning, in the rise off the bed before the day begins and changes things, it is perhaps time to make love with what is good. Endomorphic.

The writer is a retired newspaperman.

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