Uncle Max and Aunt Minnie were a couple.
Max wanted to MAXIMIZE everything...he wanted the biggest house his money could buy, the fanciest car, the most friends, the biggest parties. Minnie wanted to MINIMIZE everything...big enough, new enough, enough already, were her slogans. He let the reins out, she pulled them in.
Somewhere in the middle, somehow, some way, Uncle Max and Aunt Minnie found the path they could both walk on. He bought into some of her simple satisfactions, and she found a light in some of his dreams. Together they found a rich happiness, enduring happiness.
Not so today. The ubiquitous Maxes are in the ascendant, frenzily, virtually, uncontrollably, chasing the maximum, seemingly never contented with what they have, dismayed by what they haven't. Maximum frustrations, disappointments, self immolation, attach to their prizes. The Minnies are shunned as passive, lazy, unmotivated sloths, caricatured as mere hitchhikers on the road of life. Their quest for serenity amidst the chaos, for spiritual comforts and enlightenment, are secretly scoffed and sneered at. But the Minnies smile.
It may be that the essential difference between them is primarily in the different ordering of their priorities, rather than in their quantity. I used to think that Uncle Max was more fun to be with, and that Aunt Minnie was smarter. I now realize I was half right.
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