According to my trusty Oxford dictionary, the first definition of success is "the accomplishment of an aim." Well, now, if that's all it is, let me tell you the story of a very successful monkey.

This monkey - we'll call him Wilber - was the subject of a laboratory experiment. The researchers set Wilber up in your basic laboratory cage . . . well, maybe not exactly basic, because in this cage, there were two levers. If Wilber pulled the lever on the left, he got food. Good stuff, too. Or at least good stuff if you're a monkey. Anyway, if he pulled the lever on the right, he got cocaine. Apparently, Wilber quickly adopted the aim of getting high. As often as possible. And so, in his quest for satisfaction, Wilber just kept on pulling the lever on the right. And pulling it. And pulling it. And pulling it. Until eventually Wilber starved to death. Which was probably not his aim.

Which brings us to the built in flaw in the quest for success. Underlying the obvious aim (in Wilber's case, the cocaine), one seems to be aiming also for something a bit more fundamental - the Aim of all Aims, as it were: the desire for satisfaction. Wilber got the cocaine. He was satisfied. For a moment, anyway. But then - he wanted more. We have an itch. We scratch it. We're satisfied. Until we wander into the next patch of poison ivy. We go to our favorite restaurant and order a Big Mac, a side of fries, and a chocolate shake. When we get home that night, we are so satisfied, we need a little Pepto Bismol. But in the morning, darned if we aren't hungry again. And so it goes, even with the best sex, the fastest car, our own private island complete with mansion, staff, and indoor swimming pool. All right. I can hear you saying, "Hey, eBobb. Give me all that stuff first, and then we can talk about it." But the truth is, after a while - maybe ten, twenty years (probably sooner with the sex part) - we find ourselves wanting something again. We desire. We long for. What? More satisfaction? But then, where does it all end? Or does it? Will our longing go on and on forever, with ultimate satisfaction ultimately denied? Did The Stones foretell our sorry future: "I can't get no satisfaction, 'cause I try, and I try, and I try, and I try . . . Oh, no, no, no." Depressing, isn't it? Or - is it?

I mean, what if you really were Totally Successful? That is, what if you achieved complete, unlimited, everlasting satisfaction? Remember that old cliché among actors trying to figure out how to deliver a line: "What's my motivation?" Well, if you were completely satisfied, you wouldn't have any. No reason for another walk in the autumn sunshine, no need for another quarter pounder with cheese, no use in another kiss, or a song, or a bold new idea, or a Carnival Cruise, or a shot of Jack Daniels . . . no point, really, in getting up in the morning. Or, if you succeeded in getting satisfaction during the afternoon, no need in going to bed at night. There you'd be, this great big useless slug, forever and ever satisfied. About as great a success as old Wilber, wouldn't you say?

Whew!! When you think about it, if you've been lucky enough to elude success thus far, you've escaped a fate worse than failure by the skin of your unsuccessful little teeth. So - thank your lucky stars and keep on aiming. Just make sure you aim high enough so you never actually get there.

copyright © 2004 eBobb. All rights reserved

Visit eBobb - poet, entrepreneur, balladeer, and all-around virtual personality - at www.eBobb.com for more sage observations, and - especially for you lucky citizens who remain success-challenged - perhaps a few cheap . . . errr, economical, yet unique and original, gift ideas of the music/poetry/eBook variety, plus plenty of free samples.