No matter how bad things seemed, this was always my father's cheerful response. He was a great man who suffered from severe illnesses and NEVER complained.
Over the past 2 weeks here's what has happened to me:
My number one uncle died after a lengthy illness. His funeral was befitting a dignitary, as he touched MANY lives as an educator, counselor and principal.
My always self-centered mother made this particular gathering all about her, even from a wheelchair.
The gas light in my car came on.
I was pounded with past-due bills and other similarly threatening letters.
What's a pro-peace blogger to do?
Well, I start off listening to classical music. I especially like Borodin, Rimsky-Korsakov, you know, the Russians. And then I thank God for the best darned brother in the world. He can tell a funny joke a day with no repeats. My delivery sucks, but here goes:
A Georgia boy gained entrance into the hallowed halls of Harvard. (Notice that alliteration?) And since Georgia is my home, this story is not outside the realm of possibility). He walked up on two Ivy league, sweatered types and asked:
'Howdy. Do either of you know where the cafeteria is at?' To which one Ivy leaguer quipped, 'It would be behind the preposition.'
The country boy's response?: 'Oh, I'm sorry. Do you know where the cafeteria is, asshole.?'
Praying and living in Peace!
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