July, We Hardly Knew Ye
Summers are to me what New Years Eves’ are to partyers – the high time of the year. And that induces a certain pressure to “live up to".
With July nearly o’er, the question occurs if I’ve lived it fully. But that depends on my definition of “living fully”. If by living I mean getting enough sun and fun and alcohol and sex, then by that definition the Botox-less prostitute standing on West Broad St. “lives” the most. I don’t think so.
By that definition I probably did well enough anyway. But if by “lived enough” I mean “have I made the world a better place” I can be less pleased. Have I helped others? That should be my definition of not only a successful month but a successful life. I get the definitions wrong too often.
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