Playing Fair

I was five. Kindergarten was not so bad. I did OK. My teacher wrote on my report card, "Joy plays fair and tries to see that everyone else does, too." My parents reminded me of that so often, I think it became my motto in life.

I would like to think that life is fair, but its not. And that's OK. If life were fair, by whose standards would it be deemed as such. In my humble opinion, (OK, humble might be a stretch) if life were fair, I would still be 37. I would look like Kathryn Zeta-Jones, travel the world at my leisure and have more money than I, my kids and my kids' kids could spend. That would be fair.

Or would it be fair to say, God has been good to me. I live in a nice house, drive a luxury car, have a wonderful family, a job I love most of the time and housekeeper so I never have to do housework. Is it fair that I have so much and complain so much? If I lived in Manes, sat on the front porch, broke green beans, peeled potatoes and spit tobacco juice while I gossiped with the neighbors, would I think life was fair?

How should we judge what is fair? It's not like philosophers haven't debated that one for eons! Fair would be if I could be free to do exactly what I want when I want. Yes? And what would that be? I don't know.

I think it best that life is not fair. If it were, I think I should have to give up a lot.