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SilverTorch Potpourri
The words and music of Lift Every Voice and Sing, often called the Black National Anthem The words of the song We
Shall Overcome Miscellany: Answers to Questions Classics of Inspiration
SOME THINGS YOU KEEP Some things you keep. Like good
teeth. Warm coats. Bald husbands.They're good for you,
reliable and practical and so sublime, that to throw them away would
make the garbage man a thief. So you hang on, because something
old is sometimes better than something new, and what you know
is often better than a stranger. These are my thoughts, they make me sound old, old and tame, and dull at a time when everybody else is risky and racy and flashing all that's new and improved in their lives. New careers, new thighs, new lips, new cars. The world is dizzy with trade-ins. I could keep track, but I don't think I want to. I grew up in the fifties with
practical parents - a mother, God bless her, who washed aluminum foil
after she cooked in it, then reused it - and still does. A
father who was happier getting old shoes fixed than buying new
ones. They weren't poor, my parents, they were
just satisfied. Their marriage was good, their dreams
focused. Their best friends lived barely a wave away. I can see them now, Dad in trousers
and tee shirt and Mom in a housedress, lawnmower in one's hand,
dishtowel in the other's. It was a time for fixing things - a
curtain rod, the kitchen radio, screen door, the oven door, the hem
in a dress. Things you keep. It was a way of life, and
sometimes it made me crazy. All that re-fixing,
reheating, renewing, I wanted just once to be wasteful.
Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant there'd always be
more. But then my father died, and on that
clear autumn night, in the chill of the hospital room, I
was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't
any 'more.' Sometimes what you care about most gets all used up and
goes away, never to return. So, while you have it, it's best to love it and care for it and fix it when it's broken, and heal it when it's sick. That's true for marriage and old cars and children with bad report cards and dogs with bad hips and aging parents. You keep them because they're worth it, because you're worth it. Some things you keep. Like a best
friend that moved away or a classmate you grew up with, there's just
some things that make life important .... people you know are
special....and you KEEP them close! AUTHOR
UNKNOWN
The Cost of Raising A Child THE PERFECT JOB My first job was working in an orange juice factory, but I got canned...couldn't concentrate. Then I worked in the woods as a lumberjack, but I just couldn't hack it, so they gave me the ax. After that I tried to be a tailor, but I just wasn't suited for it...mainly because it was a so-so job. Next I tried working in a muffler factory but that was too exhausting. I wanted to be a barber, but I just couldn't cut it. Then I tried to be a chef -- figured it would add a little spice to my life but I just didn't have the thyme. I attempted to be a deli worker, but any way I sliced it, I couldn't cut the mustard. My best job was being a musician, but eventually I found I wasn't noteworthy. I studied a long time to become a doctor, but I didn't have any patience. Next was a job in a shoe factory--I tried but I just didn't fit in. I became a professional fisherman, but discovered that I couldn't live on my net income. I managed to get a good job working for a pool maintenance company, but the work was just too draining. I got a job at a zoo feeding giraffes, but I was fired because I wasn't up to it. So then I got a job in a workout center, but they said I wasn't fit for the job. After many years of trying to find steady work, I finally got a job as a historian until I realized there was no future in it. My last job was working at Starbucks, but I had to quit because it was always the same old grind. So, then I retired...and found out I was perfect for the job!
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