My pal, Tonja, is a great bartender. When she decided to quit one job, she walked down a line of patrons, bellied up to the bar. She tagged each one as she walked towards the door and into the future, "I like you. I like you. You. I don't like you."
Today, a few years later, she's pretty sure that there were only one or two "don't likes."
Admirable, in my opinion. You take your wisdom where you find it.
Running through an unofficial inventory of my life, I'm almost bereft of "don't likes." In the melodrama that flourishes in my heart and in my mind I often tussle with some Moriarity or another. Time always reveals that I do most battle with myself.
After more than fifty years in the music business, I can't give you the name of a single crook who has cheated me.
Four wives in and now I realize that I have no bad feelings towards them or any of the other women that I've been lucky enough to spend time with. You wouldn't know it from my years of ranting and raving and feeling sorry for myself.
Under time's microscope it seems obvious that my major charge against the other side is that they don't love me enough. They don't love me as much as I love them.
Well, sir, thanks to wise friends like Tonja, I finally realize a couple of things:
1. It ain't no contest.
2. If it were you wouldn't win by loving less.
3. The best lover loves the most.
4. It's the love that matters. That's all.
Scared dogs bite. Hurt people hurt. Sadly, we've all been hurt by some point. You can't do much about any hurt that you've caused but you don't have to cause any more. Let's love. Love hard. It's gentle, don't worry.
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