So much despair, yet there are the green tinges of Spring ever beckoning in this current political climate.
We rail at the inequalities, quite rightly, but we also nurture the good, the insightful and the youth.
When I feel low I sit back and listen to my children. For in them is the future and, as we shall see, it has a rosy side.
This little anecdote stems from something very old, relatively, and the awakening of someone very young.
I hope, that when I am old, my children will feel that my time on Earth was decently well spent. If they turn into thinking, caring adults who are good parents to their own children, then I will be satisfied.
As yet that is sometime in the future, but for now I find both comfort and amusement in the following tiny episode.
My two older boys are at school and college in the UK. My three, much younger step-children are keeping their daft old Limey Dad on his toes, right here in Oklahoma. They attend local schools and are subject to local attitudes, something I have written about before, particularly here, in this Diary.
Today another daughter stunned me into silence. This one is eight years old, and about to start 3rd Grade. She thinks she is eighteen years old, and I am just an "old, bald man", whose sole ambition is to ruin her day. Then, five minutes later, I apparently walk on water, and can do no wrong ..... then, five minutes later .... and so go our days. Happy, for the most part.
So we, Mrs Twigg and I, are driving said sprog home from the dentist. She had some "procedures" and is feeling quite pathetic. As is usual we have music on the audio when this song comes on. It's one you all love, so I am embedding it for you to enjoy once more:
Where were we? Oh yes, Natalie and her dental issues :)
"Hey Nat, who wrote that song?" was my tenderly flung out question.
"Woody Guthrie" was the un-hesitating reply, before she drifted back off to sleep amid demands for curly fries "Which I deserve because I was good at the dentists".
Jodie and I just sat with our own thoughts. Mine were quite pleased. My eight year old knows Woody Guthrie, and there is hope.
Hope that she will grow up and be a leader among a generation of Americans who manage their affairs a little better than their parents and grandparents are managing.
Hope that we will not do too much damage before it's their turn.
Natalie thinks the world is hers. I hope we leave it to her in decent shape.
Here she is a few years ago ... cute huh?