The unvoiced thoughts and ideas of a septegenarian.



With a good amount of perseverance I’m sure I could find umpteen definitions of, and quotes about, what it means to be human.  Though others far brighter than I may have written intelligent and thoughtful reams on the subject, I’m not going to go in search of them. I’m satisfied with my own definition.



If you say you belong to the human race,

are neither a beast of the field

nor creature of sea or sky,

I have a few questions for you.


Do you weep on encountering suffering?

Can you cling to hope in the face of despair?

When the snow falls do you feed the birds?

Would you kick your dog, step on a spider?

Do you offer your arm to the blind, avoid the infirm?

Would you invite a hobo to your table,

Give him warm socks and a coat to wear?


Do you know the difference between light and darkness,

Honor and shame, attention and neglect?

Between a playground and a jail, between a hug and a punch?

Can you ignore skin – black, white or yellow?


When did you last plant a flower, thrill to the music of Bach,

Read a great book, utter a heartfelt prayer,

Enjoy a walk in the woods, a swim in the sea,

Stand in awe at the base of a mountain?

Applaud a child’s curiosity?


Have you won the respect of others, the affection of children?

Did you bring a smile to someone’s face today?

Have you an inner spark you keep hidden

That if let loose might comfort another?

Do you believe in the goodness of man?


Which are you:

One who enters a room and says “Here I am”

Or one who enters and says “Ah, there you are?”


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Julie Rose



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I like men.  Growing up I had boyfriends, not girlfriends. I took great delight in sitting on the handlebars of Pete’s bike and being taken for a ride. I adored the guy who lived three doors away and let me drive his Harley –Davidson. I sat in awe of an English professor who had hyacinth blue eyes and smelled like the sweet tobacco he used in his pipe. I fell in love with one who draped me in Spanish moss and pretended I was his bride. As an adult I much prefer the company of, and conversation with, men rather than women.  I’d rather shoot pool in a pub than go to a tea party. I don’t, however,  long for a car that’ll win the Indy and I’ve no wish to outscore anyone on the golf course. I do prefer the ladies locker room with its aroma of fresh flowers rather than sweat, lavender scented hand lotion, hair dryers and thick, fluffy, pink towels.


Let it first be said I am not a biologist and have little concrete knowledge of hormones. There is a great deal of scientific research into the question of whether testosterone really leads to aggression. Much of it attempts to prove that testosterone – by itself – is not the bad guy but most studies conclude but that it plays an important role in  terms of both individual survival and procreation. There is also clear evidence of a connection between the hormonal effects of testosterone and the outward expression of aggressive behavior. While it is common to think of  testosterone in terms of sexual activity, it is, by no means confined to that arena. It plays a primary role in aggressive behavior exhibited in a variety of circumstances.


I have come to believe the Creator misjudged the amount of testosterone to be given to each sex.  Men have much more testosterone than women. There is no doubt in my mind but that testosterone is responsible for much of the world’s evil.  From the time they become adolescents, men are driven by that hormone. Every female in sight becomes a sexual challenge; every sport played is an opportunity to become “top gun.;”  every bit of land is a temptation to conquer. Can you find  a woman who has started a war?


Fantasy  – Wishful Thinking. What would the world be like if both sexes had been given an equal amount of that hormone in lower doses?  Men might understand they are not wimps if they compromise: that they do not have to conquer to be respected. Women might be a little less reticent to engage in challenging activities.  Our society might become one with less individual competition and more group co-operation. Our divorce courts might well be far less crowded.


Generally, the Creator made good choices when the world was created but I think He/She/It goofed up on that one.


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Julie Rose


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