ENDANGERED PLEASURES IN DEFENSE OF SELF-INDULGENCE AND SIMPLE LUXURIES Barbara Holland takes up arms against America's current ethic of industrious virtue. We work longer than we did twenty years ago, she says, and eat more vegetables, but why get rich and live forever if our lives are gray and arduous? According to Holland, morning sex, bare feet, gardening, dawdling over the morning paper, and idle summer vacations are more fun than shopping malls and cable television, and certainly more fun than working all our waking hours. She exhorts us to rebel, to oversleep, and when we get up, to eat bacon. Holland's recommended world includes not just smelling the flowers, but calling in sick and lying down among them, if possible with a friend, a bottle of wine, and a handful of strawberries. It calls for Fourth of July parades and Christmases lasting twelve whole days. She's also in favor of less respectable joys like happy hour, chicken gravy, driving without our seatbelts, gambling, and swearing -"one of our least expensive and most flexible pleasures, ready to hand wherever we may be" - and laments those now snatched from us forever, such as cigarettes, furs, ocean liners, and comfortable bathtubs. Eloquent and merry, Holland persuades us to notice and guard the small delights that cheer our days.
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