Earlier this week, I was reading about the Civil War and pondering the current status of our “Great Experiment,” and yesterday I discussed with a friend the spiritual concept of being refined, as gold, by fire. Both were on my mind today while I listened to old Ray sing.
I love my country so very much. We remain an experiment, ever a work in progress, but we are still here - the star-spangled banner yet waves - and I remain proud and unspeakably grateful to be an American.
O beautiful for pilgrim feet
Whose stern impassioned stress
A thoroughfare of freedom beat
Across the wilderness
God mend thine every flaw
Confirm thy soul in self-control
Thy liberty in law
O beautiful for heroes proved
In liberating strife
Who more than self their country loved
And mercy more than life
May God thy gold refine
Till all success be nobleness
And every gain divine
O beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam
Undimmed by human tears
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea
There’s a great Lewis Grizzard bit about “an RC cola and a moon pie.”
is a thought I sometimes have, and then I turn my back and walk toward the sunset. It took a lot of time and practice to figure out how, and sometimes it *really*, really hurts, but it’s the only way. People can be like thorns, and I no longer want to be a martyr.
"I’m going to say something now, Sophie, but I don’t want you to feel obligated to say anything back, so I’m going to hang up right away — I love you, Sophie. Bye" is the story of my whole life. That and "It’s just if something funny happens on the way to the deli, you’ll only tell one person and that’ll be Patch and I’ll never hear about it." And "SOPHIE! SOPHIE! SOPHIE! SOPHIE!" Except I do that part just internally because I have a lot of pride.
Live fast. Die young. Bad girls do it well.This ones forchaptertwelve.