July 23 – A life worse living

A life worse living
commuting, daily driving
lost hours from each day

On the surface, a life that depends on a daily, one way, 1 to 2 hour drive, may be and probably, should be, considered worse living.

It’s a nutty way to live.

Driving miles and miles in cars from homes to jobs where we earn the money to pay for the cars and homes.

Boggles the mind the think how this county is built to accommodate the car.

I expect some day that stadiums will be designed as huge round parking garages so you can watch the game from your car like a giant drive in movie.

Then move on to consider that having the inconvenience of a long daily commute usually means that;

I have a job.

I have a home.

I have a car.

I have some choices in life, way I live my life and lifestyle.

On a plus – minus examination, I have to admit I come out ahead in the game.

Worse living?

Yes, who wants to be listening to an audio book then sitting at home with a cool drink and a book open on my lap.

Is there worse worse living.

You bet.

July 21 – The Better Angels

The Better Angels
Of our Nature, shine brightly
that blind may see them

Where to look for hope?

After writing this Blog Post, the Cortes’ Quadruplets were baptized together this morning at Cross Pointe Church in Duluth, GA – Could not have asked for a better example of the Better Angels of Our Nature …

A thought inspired perhaps by Mr. Lincoln.

How do we undo the damage Trump has done? Instead of writing off the 40% which still seems to be mesmerized by his racist theater, Wise has a better idea. He believes that when most people are confronted with their subconscious biases, if they are “encouraged to respond to the better angels of their nature, they will do it.

“It’s when you don’t let them believe that they have better angels; if you make it seem like, ‘You’re just a horrible, irredeemable human being,’ they will show you just how horrible and irredeemable they are. The research tells us … that most white folks don’t want to think of themselves as racist, and don’t want to be racist.” From a review by Charles Kaiser of The Man Who Sold America by Joy-Ann Reid

The phrase, Better Angels, maybe comes to us from Charles Dickens’ Barnaby Rudge, “It is curious to imagine these people of the world, busy in thought, turning their eyes towards the countless spheres that shine above us, and making them reflect the only images their minds contain…So do the shadows of our own desires stand between us and our better angels, and thus their brightness is eclipsed”  though Abraham Lincoln’s 1st Inaugural Address, I am loath to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature. “

In 1861, before his inauguration,  Lincoln showed a draft of what he intended to say to William Seward, his Secretary of State.  Seward recommended that Lincoln conclude with conciliatory words, and sketched out a few sentences for Lincoln to consider.

Seward’s rough draft, which has been preserved, contains the expression “better angel.”  Twenty years earlier, in 1841, Charles Dickens had used “our better angels” in his novel “Barnaby Rudge.” There is no evidence that Lincoln  read Dickens, but Seward did.

Lincoln read Seward’s rough draft in which Seward had scratched out the words”better angel” and substituted in their place “guardian angel of the nation.” Lincoln then turned Seward’s discarded two words into the memorable expression “better angels of our nature.” (from A Lincoln Quotation You Can Use In Writing: Charles Dickens and Abraham Lincoln by Gene Griessman, Ph.D)

July 14 – Yippee-ki-yi-yay

Yippee-ki-yi-yay
He shouts and he sings, am off
and vacationing

Love this song.

Ain’t much for cowboy songs, mostly, but y’all can sing this at my funeral when my ashes are tossed off the pier at Tybee into the Atlantic Ocean.

Until then, I am on vacation and singing this tune into the sunset.

When a Cowboy Trades His Spurs for Wings Writer/s: David Rawlings / Gillian Welch 

Let me tell you, buddy
There’s a faster gun
Coming over yonder
When tomorrow comes

Let me tell you, buddy
And it won’t be long
Till you find yourself singing
Your last cowboy song

Yippee-ki-iy-ay
When the round-up ends
Yippee-ki-iy-ay
And the campfire dims

Yippee-ki-iy-ay
He shouts and he sings
When a cowboy trades his spurs for wings

When they wrap my body
In the thin linen sheet
And they take my six irons
Pull the boots from my feet

Unsaddle my pony
She’ll be itching to roam
I’ll be halfway to heaven
Under horsepower of my own

Yippee-ki-iy-ay
When the round-up ends
Yippee-ki-iy-ay
And the campfire dims

Yippee-ki-iy-ay
He shouts and he sings
When a cowboy trades his spurs for wings

Yippee-ki-iy-ay
I’m glory-bound
No more jingle jangle
I lay my guns down

Yippee-ki-iy-ay
He shouts and he sings
When a cowboy trades his spurs for wings