Humility

Today, I got a cappucino short from Starbucks.

The "short" is a relatively little-known size for drinks at Starbucks. They don't put it on the menu, apparently because they prefer that you believe that the "tall" is the smallest size they offer.

Just so we're clear on the Starbucks sizes:

• "Venti" (which means nothing I can discern) is the largest.
• "Grande" (which means "large") is the middle size.
• "Tall" (which means "having greater than ordinary height") is the smallest advertised size.
• "Short" (meaning "having less than ordinary height") is the shortest available size.

Anyway, the "short" packs all of the power of a "tall" cappucino in a smaller vessel, so it represents good value; A package stripped down to its vital essence and lacking unnecessary filler usually appeals to me, and this is no exception.

I was also pleased to find that the saying on the back of the cup was similarly compressed and packed with value:

The humble improve.

Well, yes, they do. There's no room to make fun of a daily affirmation that conveys its meaning so efficiently. You can't rearrange or strip down this info without damaging it, which means it's as good as it can get.
(Apparently, Starbucks saves the long drawn-out idiocy for the larger cups, having more space to fill.)

The humble improve. The more I think about it, the more I like it. I know people who are open-minded, sincere, and hard-working, and when I see them, they are typically busy accomplishing things that anyone could be proud of. On the other hand: Have you ever known an arrogant jackass who can justify his arrogance? I haven't.