Something happened to me between the day
of my birth and the age of three. I opened my
eyes, got my fingers to work and was capable
of pointing. I was able to shake my head, say
the words yes or no, accepting or rejecting
that which was presented to me.
From that day on, I was set on a course of
learning right from wrong. I was guided in
childhood by elders and my own personal
discoveries. Not all rights were right for me.
And as I grew more independent, some
wrongs, like refusing to eat my turnips and
broccoli as a matter of taste and preference
was left up to me.
As a teen, I learned that parents, teachers,
clergy, bosses even presidents could be wrong.
The world of mankind could be one hell of a
contradictory and messy place. And given the
minor part I played, much as I tried from time
to time, there were so many things I could never
change.
I had to learn about control, what I was capable
of doing, what couldn’t be done by me, and
when to let go.
With age I have learned to accept change. Right
is not always the right it used to be, and wrong
albeit sometimes acceptable now remains pretty
much unchanged. Except for broccoli and turnips,
that is. Given the bitterness, I have grown to
acquire a taste for such things.
Frequently, I still tend to point my finger and
shake my head in judgment of good and bad.
For what it’s worth, now at the pinnacle of my
life, given the big picture, likelihood is, except
for me personally on occasion, good or bed,
I can’t change a goddamn thing.
-30-
Chris Hanch 6-39-2022
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