Rattler's Pup's Pup

So you are pretty sure that your idea of the world is the real story and that the rest of us have it all wrong, right? The ones who see it the most like you are the ones that come the closest to having it right. Right? Am I right?

That means that only one of us has it right. What if that one died last Wednesday? Or six hundred years back! 

You do realise that your odds of winning a lottery, any lottery, are way better than your world vision being the one, right?

What if nobody has the winning ticket? Hey! That's more or less my idea, so that one can't be right under my own rules.

I'm still holding up mirrors to mirrors.

Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war.

 

I've Heard Them

Just when you think luck has nothing to do with it, another pot of gold shows up under some rainbow that you never noticed in the middle of your backyard.

I've heard it all ends. I suppose it has to eventually.

Make hay while the sun shines. That, or do one of those other things that wiser, older folks always suggested.

Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war.

 

A Sinking Ship

I've never understood why the captain or anyone else would go down with a ship, rats included. Now I find myself feeling almost guilty about abandoning the good ol' US of A during these dark hours. It breaks my heart to see the divisions that seem to grow deeper by the day. 

Oh, I've been around for long enough so that I remember other dark days. When those four little girls died at the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, I was sixteen years old. Two months later President Kennedy was taken from us.

Somehow, these dark days seem to represent something more ominous, if that's even possible.

I have a lot of friends who assume that I left the USA because of the turmoil. Of course those around me know that true love brought me to a new home. 

None of us are helpless. It's not about politics or religion, taxes or taste. It's about love. Do your part, then do some more. Smother that hate with all the love you've got on you.

 

Feeling My Oats

 

It's all about the luck at the end of the day, isn't it? I suppose I should ask "innit?"

We're all born, at least all of us here. The ultimate "good luck," I suppose, unless you're born into a sad, painful existence. Then it's the ultimate "bad luck."

We're all gonna die. No exceptions so far. 

That event must be the opposite of the birth experience.

In between, it's all boy meets girl, boy loses girl stuff. Be wary of anyone who tries to tell you that they have only good luck or only bad luck. 

Meantime, enjoy the ride. Don't let the birds sing for nothing. Get your share of the joy and try to get some to your neighbor.

Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war.

How Many More Summers?

 

Do you suppose that a moth has any idea of how little time he has? You know Dr. Einstein said that time only exists so that everything doesn't happen at once. Would you consider that the beauty of everything around you is wildly enhanced by the idea that it won't last?

Take care of your memories and make plenty of new ones.

Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war.

If Only

Who knows how many "owners" old Jonathan has gone through at this point. At one hundred and ninety one or ninety two, who's counting, who really cares. I find myself wondering if the old boy misses any of them. Do you suppose that he sits around thinking wistfully, " Humans are so wonderful. If only they lived longer."

Make the most of whatever you've got. Love like crazy and eat pudding.

Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war.