Here’s a variation on one of Aeso’s fables.  A magnificent 14 point buck over in Mayes County was admiring his reflection in the still waters of a farm pond.  For political and professional reasons, he would never say it out loud, but he was pretty certain he had the finest rack of antlers this side of the Rockies.  Because of his great strength, grace and beauty, all the lesser forest creatures were in constant competition for opportunities to “hang out with the big guy.”  He really liked being the center of attention and never doubted for a minute he deserved it.

This particular morning, he was moving his handsome head slowly from side to side trying to decide just which angle of reflection created the most regal impression.  It was hard because he was such a stud no matter how you look at it.

He was so engrossed in his self-adulation he failed to hear the footsteps of the approaching hunter.  When he became aware of the hunter’s presence it was almost too late.  No problem.  He’d been in tight spots before and his speed and strength always saved the day.  He heard the report of the rifle at the same instant a bullet slammed harmlessly into the tree he dodged around.  He chuckled to himself as the distance between him and the hunter widened.  He couldn’t help but look back to see the expression of disappointment and awe which would doubtless be on the hunter’s face.  It was.

But for the split second he was enjoying his triumph, he ran smack into a Chickasaw plum thicket, and as he thrashed around trying to back out, his wonderful antlers got tangled in the branches of a sturdy little post oak.  He couldn’t get out.  As you might expect, the expression on the hunter’s face brightened up a bit.  I don’t need to tell you how the story ends.  The moral is a little difficult, though.

See, the fable is supposed to illustrate how pride can be your undoing.  Some of the stories dominating the recent headlines bring our prideful buck to mind.  Topping the charts are Illinois governot Blagojevich and financial mogul Madoff.  If we open the phone lines now, I’m sure we could compile an impressive list of dandies from all walks of life.

On the other hand, we teach our children that they should have pride; pride in a neat appearance, pride in their work, and so on.  We expect to fid a fair amount of healthy pride in a manly man.  The trick is to figure olut when pride crosses the line and becomes “overweening.”  The dictionary definition of “overweening” is, “presumptuously conceited, arrogant, overbearing.”  As you can see, overweening is bad.  What we’re looking for in our pride level here is adequate “weening.”  We don’t want in “over” and we don’t want it “under.”  We just want the right amount of “ween” in our children, our role models and ourselves.  Beats me if I know how to measure for correct “ween” levels.

But I digress.  See if you can guess the proper term for someone who is guilty of overweening.  That’s right.  They’re “overweeners.”  I’m not kidding.  You can look it up.  Now that I’ve come across it, I’ve concluded this is an extremely useful and grossly underused word.  The modern world is full of overweeners and we ought to say so every chance we get.

In closing, let me urge you all to lead by example.  Take this opportunity to get your own ween levels in order, then you’ll have more credibility when you point out the overweeners among us.

Speaking of overweeners, January 3 was the 84^th anniversary of the day Benito Mussolini declared he was making himself dictator of Italy.  As you know, he too wound up in a thicket he couldn’t get out of.  What a weener! 

I’m Hink and I’ll see ya.

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