I am only one; but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something. I will not refuse to do the something I can do.
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The greatest pleasure in life is doing what people say you cannot do.
From the Michigan album:
For the Widows in Paradise, For the Fatherless in Ypsilanti
Who can call us father, who can call us son? If we have regarded ourselves abandoned by whatever thing (a person, a lover, a parent, a false prophet, ourselves) then we have lost touch with the great family, ourselves, all of us together, on this great place called Planet Earth.
Who is your neighbor? He is your brother. Who is that stranger? She is your mother. The man downstairs hammering on the wall, the woman blow-drying her hair in the bathroom down hall— these people are your family.
Have you lost your mother to death? Have you lost your father to disease, to war, to alcohol, drugs, a car accident? Nothing can replace them. They have been made known completely in death, to whatever supernatural landscape (who can say for sure?). Until then, it is our hard task to welcome the widows, the children, the orphans, the fatherless into our family. What little effort it takes —a friendly nod at the stranger on the street, giving change to the vagabond, saying hello or goodbye, opening doors, keeping our mouths shut. In the small things, the day-to-day gestures, the normal business of the day, we do the great work of the kingdom, which is to welcome each unlikely individual into the fold, one person at a time.
popeye insists he doesn’t have “a thing for asian girls,” even though his last four girlfriends have been pekingese
[photo via alison i]