May Gumbytron heap blessings on you and yours

Alexander Hamilton on the Series 2004A $10 Federal Reserve Note, based on an 1805 portrait by John Trumbull (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I can’t recall when I lost my Outer Serenity, why I became a radical…
Maybe it was the first “lie” a boss made me tell just to make a sale.
Well, the Boss didn’t make me, I’ll have to admit, I had bought into the
Game.

Maybe it was the Cascade of Lies that followed chasing
that Almighty Dollar. Maybe there was something wrong with me. I mean,
the Dollar, it is a desirable thing… even its smell (especially the
smell of new money) that somehow wasn’t working on my neuro-receptors
(even though at times I would have fantasies of rolling around ina pile
of $20 bills, don’t ask why $20s, It’s a Jacksonian fixation) but yet…

I noticed that the things I really loved, a sunrise, a bee gathering
honey from clover, a stand of old growth forest, had none of that “new
money smell.”

And for some reason, these things, these li’l
miracles of daily existence had more allure than anything that now foul
odor of money could deliver me.

I began to worry about things
like right or wrong, can we continue on this path and expect to
survive, can we even appreciate the opening of a Daffodil in Spring?

And I became Radical.