To pass through this brief life as nature demands. To give it up without complaint. Like an olive that ripens and falls. Praising its mother, thanking the tree it grew on. Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 4.48.   I sat at my favorite spot on the porch one spring morning, watching the sun paint golden stripes on the trees and amusing myself with the chattering of the wild birds as they fought for seeds from the feeder. Suddenly, I was assaulted by a disquieting thought: how many more spring days...

O, we don't give a damn for the whole state of Michigan The whole state of Michigan, the whole state of Michigan We don't give a damn for...

1 My knees and hands were bleeding and hurt like the dickens, but I was still holding onto the seashell I had picked up from the darkened...