'Cause that's how Rough Ryders Roll...

A young DMX looked like a the bad ass avatar in a video game that was never made. His frame thin but muscular, his style and demeanor one you couldn't hope to achieve. His voice that raspy sound that gave gravitas, and his face an expression that let you know without question he'd seen it all and done and it all and that he wasn't about to fuck around on the way to the final boss. 

An older DMX looked like your favorite uncle when you were a child. A little thicker but still with a aura of joy. Quick with a joke but working every day to make sure the spiritual was right too. This was the uncle that would spot you twenty and beer out the cooler when your mother wasn't looking, but would also show up when you were in trouble ready to handle business.  

In between we got classics. I spent to today jamming to It's Dark and Hell is Hot, the classic ...And Then There was X, and The Great Depression and singles from Grand Champ and Year of the Dog Again. I was stunned at how many of the songs I still knew the words too. (I was also surprised that at this age simply rapping like we used to I was out of breath, damn.) 

And then the social media deluge started. Of DMX being Earl Simmons. Father. Friend. Philosopher. And guy who while he struggled with his own demons didn't let it color his zest for life. 

His kind shall not pass this way again.

Because they don't even try to do it like this no more....

The Passing of a King

 

"In my culture, death is not the end. it's more of a stepping off point. You reach out with both hands and Bast and Sekhmet, they lead you into a green veld where you can run forever."
~ T'challa as portrayed by Chadwick Boseman

Sometimes people keep things to themselves, troubling things, because they don't want anyone else to worry. It's an act of love really. The act of being worried is so draining. Especially in situations where the act of worry or concern cannot change anything. Or maybe he was just a private person. I honestly don't know, but his people kept it close. A friend of mine, who was a friend of a friend of Chadwick's sister told me today that she kinda knew he had cancer, but thought that it was under control or had been treated so she didn't even think about it. And after I saw pictures of him earlier this year and expressed concern with other friends those conversations quickly became that he was "naturally skinny" and had just bulked up for his roles or that he was preparing for another acting gig by slimming down. The idea that there might be something else to it did not even occur to us. In reality we've all known people with cancer, but treatment is real, so now we tend think of it as more something you get through than what ends you. It hurts to be wrong.  

The King is Dead. Long live the King. 

Chadwick Boseman studied hard at his craft. And he was good at it. He was someone who had worked enough to not only was able to credibly embody the godfather of soul James Brown, but also display the quiet courage of baseball legend Jackie Robinson, or the spirit of a young future supreme court justice Thurgood Marshall. These and other were roles that required variation of style, of cadence, of emotion. Of a blend of talent and craft. In an industry that still limits the what kind of character that black actors and actresses can be, he managed to widen the field for himself and for others. And then came his star turn, as the African King and superhero T'challa, the Black Panther. The first billion dollar movie headed by a black lead character. A tour de force on so many levels. One that created an image that resonates, as we say now, for the culture. And he did all of them in between chemo treatments and battling his cancer. 

I watch the videos of him visiting children with cancer, of his tearing up during interviews when he says it gave it him a sense of responsibility, and those take on a new weight now. He knew where they were, what they faced. I'm certain he kept his head up, but that's a heavy burden. And he carried it well.

I don't wish to diminish any other death this year, but this one feels different. So much has moved us this year. So many lives have been cut short by tragedy. Some by fate. We didn't see any of them coming. They all hurt. 

We thank you Mr. Boseman.

Wakanda Forever.

All good things...

When I read the articles about Stan Lee, I kept wondering why most of them didn't take the time to explain why this modern day P.T. Barnum who made himself out to be a literary Edison was so racially sensitive. Maybe it's because he was Jewish, and had adopted the name Stan Lee because he wanted to save his real name for when he wrote the great American novel.

Stan's passing is tragic. I remember sometime ago reading something, on twitter or someplace, about how one day we'd watch a Marvel film and there wouldn't be a cameo. That's when it would hit you, because the films now almost need a cameo. I hope that they'll continue in some fashion - maybe for Spider-man movies it's advert on a passing bus with Stan's face - or his portrait in an embassy or the UN in the background of the next Black Panther film. Something. I'm just saying, it's an idea.

Damn. I must be getting old.

With great power, comes great responsibility...

He was a good guy....

“Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you; it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you. Hopefully you leave something good behind.” Anthony Bourdain (1956 - 2018)

Anthony Bourdain looked to me like a guy I used to work with. A guy who explained one night, while we were out some place God knows where doing God knows what, that he had to stop drinking because "there are too many jurisdictions between here and my house." Anthony Bourdain reminds me of him - a little rough around the edges, but when he spoke he sounded like an old friend. I liked Bourdain. Mostly because he proved that you could get paid to travel and eat, and you didn't have to always go the end of the earth to do it.

A storyteller who ended up cooking for a living, then writing a book about what really happens in the kitchen and getting famous for it, Bourdain was something special. His voice melodic, his interest genuine. He was a guy that took his fame and didn't just indulge in it, he tried to in his own way to make the world a little bit better. His cooking shows weren't about cooking, but about the people in those places that made the food, be it the a kitchen in Cambodia or Boise, ID. And he didn't think you had spend a ridiculous sum of money on something for it to taste good, it just had to be authentic. He made eating interesting. 

My favorite fact about him is on his show Parts Unknown he traveled to Charleston, SC and while there, a couple of drinks in,  he visited one of the many outposts of that late night life line, the Waffle House. Yes,  the same Waffle House where the steak with sides is less than $10 and you can get your hashed browns like 1,000 different ways. And he loved it.   

Oh, and he like Archer. I love Archer.

Mr Bourdain, I don't think the world will be the same now that you're gone.

Let me hear it one last time..

"We Out. Hey Joe, I know this spot got fish fresh off the grease..."

"My President is black, my Lambo is blue..."

It is a sad day.

As Sporty said, don't forget to set your clock back 350 years tonight.

It's always hard going back after a long vacation. You'd gotten used to silly things, things like a movement towards justice, concern about the environment, healthcare and human rights. Then back comes the UGH. In one fell swoop, it's like the world just went gray after you've gotten used to sunshine and hope and compassion. True it wasn't all great, there was always that undercurrent of problems you'd thought you'd left behind - of bad rhetoric and opposition, but you were on vacation. It didn't seem to matter as much. You even dreamed that the vacation might get extended. That you could potentially move and be on vacation forever.

But alas no. The UGH is back, and it seems like everything you left on your desk is still there, but now with all the stuff you missed while you were away. And it even seems like more stuff since they now realize you take vacations. The UGH. You'd almost thought it was going to be a distant memory.

That just means we need to start planning for our next vacation.

Thank you, President Barack Hussein Obama.

This is the part where somebody screams "TAKE ME WITH YOU"      

I got a bad feeling about this...

Ramblings Post #311
I miss my youth. When I used to watch movies and just enjoy the story, or in some cases, the special effects because the story sucked, or yelling at the screen because yes, I was one those people. Now, when I watch a movie I'm concerned with representation, stereotypes, cultural slights, and how I would have done it. All that and the popcorn is like $12. Which may explain why I don't go to the movies like I used anymore. Well, there are other reasons too, but all that right there.

Ghostbusters Classic

I watched the Ghostbusters trailer, and... it wasn't funny.

Or, maybe I'm just not getting the jokes.

As I've written before, I was skeptical about this whole project from the start, but since I think Melissa McCartney and Kristen Wiig are funny, I was willing to give it shot. Said offer of said shot has since been rescinded. Maybe it hurt that the film trailer makes it sound like a sequel, while the actions on the screen make it feel like a remake. Or that right this moment it looks like the people behind it didn't understand the original movie. Or that I heard that the original actors making cameos had them shot as both the original characters AND as random strangers. Which means they don't know what film they were making or marketing. That does not bode well.

And I said explicitly that really hoped the Black woman character wouldn't be for all intents and purposes a "Wanda Zedmore." By that I meant the fourth wheel addition of the non-scientist character. In the original, the black character is just a guy who from his first line of dialogue clearly indicates he's in it for the pay, but he isn't portrayed with any of the stereotypical attributes one might expect. He's just a guy.  He contributes, he has a few good lines... it's almost an every-man character.  Well, the black female isn't Wanda Zedmore, as then she would have had more dignity. This character is a blatant Hollywood stereotype, the classic loud black female "with a dip of sass" comedy character that I really thought we were past since shows like Black-ish exist now. In the trailer alone she hits the Stereotype Trifecta- "from the streets," Cadillac, and Jesus. To say that character just looks bad is an understatement. Shouldn't the idea of good roles for women extend to women of all races? Why couldn't she be a scientist and one of the other characters have been the NY native?

Or maybe, maybe it's just that I'm missing the jokes. That "hat or wig" snippet was just...odd, and the few other attempts at comedy I saw seemed forced. But it is truly possible the jokes weren't meant for me. I've watched comics who were women do routines that had half the audience rolling on the floor - the female half.  There are jokes that men find funny, and jokes that women find funny. It happens. Or New Yorkers find funny but no one else. Or Jewish people find funny and no one else. So the idea that I'm not getting the jokes as a very real possibility.  But, and this is a very large but, if you're making a film, based upon the idea of appealing to the nostalgia of its original, mostly male audience, to ensure its financial viability, while also trying to bring in a new female demographic to assure its profits, shouldn't the humor be more universal? At least in the trailer?

Or is the idea that this New Ghostbusters, which apparently has made a point of showing women on both sides of the camera, just not intended for men? Do women turn out for sci-fi comedy? Bad sci-fi comdey? Considering the the standing ethos of the Modern School of Thought on Trailer Editing, the idea that the film has better jokes so you really have to go see it is a bit far fetched. Women deserve their own good film roles and lead opportunities, but um, what happens if the comedy isn't funny? And in today's political environment, how sexist will I be for having that opinion?

Barkeep. I need a MAN drink. So make it pretty, and fruity, and with one of them little umbrellas. And put some powdered sugar on the rim. 

Martin Luther King Jr.

If ever there was a need to build a time machine and to go back and pluck someone from the past because we need him today, it's Dr. King. A voice of calm in an ocean of outrage. A man who endured because he had to, because he knew that his people needed him to be more than just a man, but a symbol.

The most sad part about this idea is that he would recognize where we are now without any prompting...because I swear ain't that much changed.

1958 or 2015... ain't much changed.

We are all Parisian

Baltimore 2015

This is a political post. 

Apparently we've learned nothing. And are learning nothing.

First let me state that I don't agree with the rioting and the property destruction. It's pointless and senseless, self inflicted wounds if you will. But the rioting and looting isn't the most heinous of acts happening, for that's like saying the injuries are worse than the crash. No one seems to be asking how could we have avoided the crash, and then how can avoid the next one.

The news media doesn't surprise me.

Images of riots draw eyeballs. And news outlets need eyeballs.

The news media has a vested interest in excitement. And answers don't come in sound bites, 3D graphics and talking head discussions in two minute segments that lead to commercial. It comes from hard serious and sober conversations about the underlying root issues that got us here and what can be done to address them that exhaust the participants. But if you'll notice, the seeds of those conversations are being reduced to blurbs the announcers can breeze through while they show this video of something on fire. High unemployment and this burning building. Horrible education and these images of police in riot gear. Injustice and look at the smoke in this panoramic shot. These potshots of news and information allow the guilty souls of vampire news to sleep at night. 

That the people of Baltimore are experiencing the pains that come from shrugging your shoulders in the face of injustice is...tragic. People marched fifty years ago for these same ideas. And yet here we still are, wondering why? But there is no need to wonder.

It's been 60 years and ain't a damned thing changed.

Image from Tumblr ( and I know they don't know where they got it)

Go Gentle oh Ye Robin, Travel Well. You Will be Missed.

Drama is easy, comedy is hard. Very hard. A moving production of Shakespeare or Beckett are a walk in the park compared to making large groups of people howl with laughter. It's one of the reasons I've always found it hard to agree with the Oscars when riotous comedies aren't nominated. 

I remember hearing a story about Robin Williams years ago. That he'd once gone on stage and done two hours of stand-up comedy for the early show that had the audience in stitches. Then, for the second show less than an hour later he did another two hours of amazingly funny stuff, and NEVER DID THE SAME JOKE. That takes funny. Real funny.

Comedy is rare talent. Few have it. Robin Williams was one of them. His performances are right there at the top of the pantheon of comedic excellence. Good Morning Vietnam was falling down funny.  And I could watch him be funny in almost anything, even films I really had no intention of watching. I didn't think I would like The Birdcage, but because of Williams I watched it and was blown away. I really didn't plan to watch Hook, or Jumanji or Mrs. Doubtfire. Saw them all. His voice over work is legendary. He practically made the move Robots work. I saw Aladdin specifically for his performance as the Genie. I'm such a fan of his comedy I even thought he was good in Popeye.

The term "National Treasure" was once applied, and I actually got angry when someone questioned it.   

The world today is a little less funny. No, that's not accurate, its a lot less funny, than it was yesterday. He was just that damned good.

Now Hiring - Entry Level Postions

Requirements: 25 years experience cranial microsurgery, 5 years of restaurant management experience and at least 5 years using the 2014 Cyberdyne Accounting XX Resource Management System. Conversational fluency in Spanish, Mandarin and Mid-Seventeenth Century English dialects, good with kids. Applicants should have an Oscar, a Tony and a Grammy and a full understanding of dark matter, string theory as well as my family's secret barbeque sauce. Must be able to multitask.

Top secret security clearance preferred.
Space Shuttle Flight certification required.

 $10.00 per hour. 

Welcome to the Wild Wild East

This is a political post.

I went out a few months ago to a friends birthday party at a little spot called the Buckhead Bottle Bar,
which looked a lot more impressive in the photographs. That and the waitress took so long I thought she had to drive to the liquor store to get the alcohol for my drink. Okay, maybe I'm a little old for that spot, but the news today suddenly brought back a memory of that evening. Aside from the look I got from the doorman, I had to submit to a pat down before entering.

Normally I don't do a spot that has to pat you down. It generally means the people running the spot know that their crowd has a tendency to get ornery, which really isn't conducive to a good night out at my age. As such, I paused at the door and asked him if it was "like that" in the establishment. He indicated that no, it wasn't, but due to the liberal gun laws in my state of residency, guns had become more prevalent than ever. He informed me that even the nicer restaurants, the places that look like movie backgrounds, are festooned people packing personal weaponry.

Where have I been?

Now I realize that there is a little town just outside of Atlanta that requires gun ownership (strange how conservatives didn't scream that government mandate violates any rights, now isn't it?) but the city of Atlanta proper and all it's associated city-lites aren't crazy dangerous. Are they? I mean, I live in a theoretically sketchy part of town, and I don't feel the need to be armed. It's not like I'm stumbling across bodies in the street on the way to the grocery store. I can leave the house after dark, just like in most of America, so I'm confused as to why Governor Deal felt the state needed better protection for dealing with roving bands of ...I'm guessing ghosts, here.

I mean, do the people in Buckhead, Brookhaven and Vinings need to walk around ready for a High Noon showdown? Or do teachers need rifles to hold off the natives until the menfolk get back from the fields? Because we live in the 21st century. At least I did.  What I find most disturbing about the bill is the specific inclusion (revisions of section 1-5) that removes the prohibition allowing guns into places that serve alcohol, because I like to think we're all fairly sure that alcohol impairs judgement. Am I to understand that drinking and driving is bad, but drinking and guns are okay? Apparently there is some study somewhere I missed that indicates alcohol does not impair judgment if you have a gun on you. Probably NRA sponsored.

This is really just an expansion of GA's Stand your Ground Law, which rests on the principle of allowing a person (usually not a minority) to shoot someone whom you feels threatens you in any place you're allowed to carry a gun. This expands the area you can legally carry one. Since we're now adding alcohol to the mix, I can uncomfortably predict this will not end well. A few drinks, an argument and suddenly everyone swears they're the hero in a Quentin Tarantino film. As the default threat - i.e., a black male - I find it more than a little worrisome. Here's to hoping I'm Django.

A Ghostbuster goes to the other side

Harold Ramis as Egon

I saw Ghostbusters at summer camp, with a group of guys whose names I can't remember but who left me with a feeling of camaraderie I guess I'm still trying to find all over again. That film was brilliant, funny and just speaks to me because of when I saw it. And as funny as Bill Murray is, even a comedy icon needs a straight man to throw him setups. That guy was Harold Ramis, who passed on Monday.

I met him once. It was in college, where instead of the normally stuffy business executives I had to work to find interest in (No, I've always dreamed of managing medical device sales in the regional Midwest, really!) an actual Ghostbuster showed up. He was physically bigger than I thought he would be, long past his Egon Spengler prime, but still a bright spot on the closeup schedule. I also remember as the crowd started to thin out as people headed back to class, asking him seriously about writing professionally. Instead of brushing me off, me a young black kid he'd just met, he listened to my concept and gave me a few names of companies where I should submit my work. Now that I go over that moment in my mind I still can't believe he was so gracious.

Thank you Mr. Ramis. For listening. And for Ghostbusters. Stripes. Animal House. Caddyshack. Groundhog Day. But mostly for listening.  

Philip Banks, father.... RIP James Avery

Every dad is not Heathcliff Huxtable. Sometimes your dad needs to be Philip Banks.

In an age of television where the successful black male was the rule and not the exception, James Avery's interpretation might have come across as a bully, as mean, and maybe even a little brash. But then he was supposed to be a father...not a friend. And sometimes your father can't just love you, but has to lay down the law, hold you in check and get you ready for the world outside the four walls you were raised in. Yes, we all thought Carlton was a joke, but Carlton more than held his own when the chips were down.

James Avery was more than just Philip Banks. With a career that spanned more than thirty years, he was everything, appearing on classic shows like the Jeffersons, through the mid nighties on shows like L.A. Law, and up to a character in the Star Trek Universe in the 2000s. Yes, we remember him as Uncle Phil, because every great actor has a signature role, but that's like saying James Earl Jones was only ever Darth Vader's voice.

Good night Uncle Phil.  

A pause...in the Long Walk to Freedom.

Nelson Mandela.

I ain't gonna play Sun City.

Most people have forgotten that phrase and the song. It was a "We are the World" against apartheid, the collection of segregation laws to maintain a white minority rule in South Africa held over from it's colonial past. Sun City at that time was a South African resort, open only to that small ruling group, and had hosted many of the top names in entertainment from around the world. In 1985, a group of entertainers, including Bruce Springsteen, U2, George Clinton, Run DMC and Bob Dylan joined in a protest song against apartheid, "I ain't gonna play Sun City." I can still remember the chorus. 

That was my introduction to South Africa. Schools didn't really cover anything but American history back then. They still don't, but back then we had to actually go to the library to learn anything. 

And from learning about apartheid I learned of Nelson Mandela.

I remember watching his release prison, and him walking with his wife. It was oddly compelling, although at that time I couldn't fully grasp the gravity of the situation.

When I learned his story, I realized what an amazing man he was. What I remember most was the lack of anger. After being put away from the world for almost three decades, he lacked a bitterness to which he was more than entitled. And then, he persuaded all the South Africans who had been trod upon under the heel of apartheid to put their bitterness aside as well. In less than a decade. Transformative doesn't quite do it justice. That Mandela, who at the time had spent most of life away from politics, was able to finesse a less than cataclysmic transition of his country into the modern age is nothing short of remarkable.

And understand he was a genuinely nice guy as well. And politics at the level sees so few nice guys. 

To paraphrase our President "We will not likely see the likes of [a] Nelson Mandela again."

This is but a pause in Nelson Mandela's story, for his story must include his legacy...and that will outlive us all.

The Scandals that Weren't

This is a political post.

When you don't like somebody, everything they do is wrong. If you don't like somebody,  you can rationalize the validity of the statement "Look at them, sitting there eating cookies like they're better than me." And although they've been subtle about it, we are beginning to get the impression that maybe some conservatives don't think of the President as their pal, ha ha.  Okay, all jokes aside, we all know that if Obama personally cured cancer they still would not like him. Which I believe makes every assertion made towards him more than a little suspect.

Now the sad part is there is plenty to get mad at Obama about: the continuing existence of Guantanamo which serves mostly as a radical recruiting tool, the comically dubious nature of the drone strike program, and the ridiculous backlog of claims at the VA. Any one of those is fodder for a semi-serious critical analysis of the President's term...as well as many other things. But instead we got the week of fake scandal. Not anything about jobs, or growth, or deficit reduction, or the continuing abuse of financial privilege. No, we got this.... 

Benghazi

Once you become convinced of a conspiracy, until you find said conspiracy, you will never be satisfied. No matter what facts emerge, unless you can link them up to make your theory valid, you will believe that there is more to find. Even when nothing more exists. Which brings us to Benghazi.

The conspiracy cadre wants so dearly to learn that awoken in the dead of the night and told the
diplomatic mission was under attack, the President said "f**k'em" and went back to sleep. Or even that somehow the President was in Benghazi that night leading the attack, Hillary Clinton with a fake
mustache by his side, in an effort along with the ACLU, the Unions and gays to bring down the country. Unless Obama and Hillary confess to something like this, then these fools think they must still be hiding something! Because this is bigger than Watergate...which just goes to show you how few people remember the particulars of Watergate, why it was so bad and why this isn't even close to that accident of history. And at this point I'm not sure what they're still trying to prove Obama did wrong. I don't think they even know. 

IRS

So let me get this straight. The problem is that the taxing agency of the US used inappropriate criteria to select applicants for review which resulted in delays and asked for too much information from said applicants. Yes, really, that's the whole scandal. It sounds simple, but what it caused is for conservative groups to be treated unfairly. Maybe. But let's look deeper, let's look for context.

In 2010, with the Citizen United decision having been handed down which loosened the rules of money in politics, there was a sudden upsurge in requests for 501(c) tax exempt status. The problem was a lot of the applications were more than a little suspect, as the organizations requesting to be classified as "social welfare" groups clearly were not anything of the sort. Social welfare organizations can't favor specific legislation or a candidate, and cannot be focused on political campaigning. A large number of the applying organizations clearly were political, and thus ineligible for this classification. So the IRS spotted possible widespread tax fraud, something that seems to have been forgotten when discussing the scandal. The problem is they took the wrong steps in their initial investigation.

Only this doesn't even appear to be a coordinated effort by the sitting administration, but more a group of bureaucrats looking for a workload shortcurt. Or rather, one person. Which is terrible. Unless of course you actually work for living, then you kinda understand how overworked people look for shortcuts. And if you look into it a little more, you realize that this not only happens all the time, this instance doesn't even reach the level of normal shenanigans. History shows FDR, Nixon and most recently in 2004, then President Bush targeting Greenpeace, the NAACP and churches who spoke out against Iraq using the IRS as a weapon.

So there must have been a cover up of this horrendous and illegal practice? Um, but Congress looked into this last year, and the Acting Head of the IRS testified on this very subject before a Ways and Means subcommittee. Answered every question they had too. And although inappropriate, the act is hardly illegal.

So the real scandal is organizations who submitted forms for tax exemption, during a massive surge in applications, that that appeared fraudulent got got delayed and received extra scrutiny? Oh, the horrible shame of the IRS tying to do it's job. 

Associated Press

It's funny how the people who implored the administration the loudest to investigate the national security leaks, well, not implored, more like screamed at the President to do something, are the ones now outraged at the actual investigation. Even worse, the things they're mad about aren't even the right things. Again, going with context.

The Justice Department tries to do all sorts of things of dubious legality in an effort to be legal. They write up an opinion, stick in the file and like magic "they can do that." That's why we think "waterboarding" somehow is exempt from the term cruel and unusual.  The Justice Department did not just seize two months of Associated Press phone records. Repeated use of the word seize has colored this whole episode with such a bad connotation. It gives the impression of men in dark suits showing up and just taking things. Would you be as mad or interested if they used another word like, er, "asked for", "requested", or "subpoenaed"?

Because the Justice Department did get a subpoena. You know, like on Law and Order. Which means that this time they didn't use "opinion magic", they like...went through legal steps and junk.  Eric Holder had even recused himself - meaning he had no part at all - in the investigation to avoid any irregularities. And since they had to then serve the Associated Press with the subpoena, and wait for them to comply...AND the Associated Press cited it understood the existence of security concerns and waited to run the story....why is there outrage? The AP handed over the info...then waits a while?

That the leak that is being pursued was of classified information seems to have been overlooked. That a person without the proper clearances receiving said information is against the law has been pushed aside in the rush to damn Obama and his administration. Inflammatory language to gives rise to the imagery of jack booted thugs isn't helping. But then the AP, and the Conservatives, are trying to make its case in the court of public opinion.

The practical upshot of this week of...er, ...mess? On the plus side, we've spent a week unconcerned about the unwholesome antics of what ever talentless starlet would have normally been our focus. But on the downside, our attention was on the ludicrous political circus of pettiness, greed and jealousy that needs to end before we head down the rabbit hole.

And so we said Goodbye...

My Aunt died.

She was a grand lady, who constantly was after me to get married, since it was apparently my turn or some such nonsense. She always gave of herself, her time, her energy, always with a laugh or smile just for you when you visited even as she dwindled, sickness overtaking her. She was the person that was worried about you and was ready to help, even when she was doing less than great.

My Aunt died.

It sounds like such a simple phrase, until you realize all that goes with it. She was someone's mother and grandmother. Someone's wife. Someone's sister.  Someone's daughter. Someone's neighbor and co-worker. Someone's dear friend. And my Aunt.

My Aunt died.

She suffered from Lupus, a terrible disease, but she had battled it so well I think that we'd all forgotten just how fragile she was. I guess I assumed that she'd always be there, and now I'm ashamed of all the times I could have dropped by just to visit, but did not.  I can still hear her voice in my head, teasing me about getting grey hair or doting on one of grandchildren.

She's gone now, and I will miss her. Very, very much.