Come, Come with me, walk with me to the mailbox. Today's a big day. I'm expecting a letter from the King of Sweden, with his decision on my petition, or should I say my coronation.
I bought my ticket, went through the training, said my goodbyes, packed my brown bag, - dog the robot drove me to the launching pad, who then left without a hug or a good luck pat on the back.
As I now calmly, happily sit and strapped down for the blast-off, dog's note flashes on the screen:
Where do you keep your sunny disposition?
The words Sunny Disposition, Sunny Disposition, keep looping in my head as I listen on the phone to my cousin and her husband in the midst of using the loudest voice, angriest tone and nastiest words that humans can throw at each other, seconds from initiating physical assault.
The first time I heard Lost Ones by Lauryn Hill- I was blown away by the passion and the energy.
I quickly sent a text to a gal friend, (who's an expert on the subject of Lauryn Hill and her genre) unable to mask the energy and excitement generated from hearing the song.
My "could have been" gal pal told me that the chorus and melody is from an old Reggae song and the lyrics were about Lauryn's anger towards her ex, Wyclef Jean.
At the end of the song, a narrator asks a bunch of kids about their definition of "Love", which got me thinking about how I would have answered the question?
Has there ever been the death of a human being or the extinction of whole civilization that stopped society and the world in its track?
Prior to the death of Muhamad Ali, I used to think that the world would come to a collective pause, a universal moment of silence for the most loved and recognizable human on the planet. But as touching, acknowledged as his death was, everything still went on as normal.