But Happiness Is No Respecter Of Persons.

I Get An Urge, Like A Pregnant Elephant, To Go Away And Give Birth To A Book.

Great And Good Men And Women Stirred Sugar Into Their Coffee Knowing That It Had Been Picked By Slaves. Kind, Good Ancestors Of All Of Us Never Questioned Hangings, Burnings, Tortures, Inequality, Suffering And Injustice That Today Revolt Us. If We Dare To Presume To Damn Them With Our Fleeting Ideas Of Morality, Then We Risk Damnation From Our Descendants For Whatever It Is That We Are Doing That Future History Will Judge As Intolerable And Wicked: Eating Meat, Driving Cars, Appearing On Tv, Visiting Zoos, Who Knows?

Mind You, Mount Rushmore Isn't Exactly The Parthenon Or The Sistine Chapel Either. After The Naïve Daftness Of The Crazy Horse Monument, I Find The Pompous Idiocy Of Those Four Presidents Somehow More Risible Still. Wishing To Show Respect Or Feel A Vicarious Thrill Of Admiration And Pride, I Can Only Giggle. For Which I Am Very Sorry. Any Loyal American Reading This Who Feels Outraged And Insulted Is Free To Explode With Derisive Snorts Of Laughter At Any British Equivalent.

Weather Is Real. It Is Absolutely Real: When It Rains, It Rains – You Get Wet, There Is No Question About It. It Is Also True About Weather That You Can’t Control It; You Can’t Say If I Wish Hard Enough It Won’t Rain. It Is Equally True That If The Weather Is Bad One Day It Will Get Better And What I Had To Learn Was To Treat My Moods Like The Weather.

Come Back, And Do That Thing, Be Lovely To Each-other.