“You’re
generalizing, Sam”—my students
accuse me. “Reducing.
Assuming. Presuming.
Overstating. Understating.”
My natural
selection: I cherry-pick and rip-off
from the
whole what calls to me, suits my business
and agenda—walking thru a field or mall,
reading a newspaper, scrolling Face book
--embarrassment
of riches, yes?
I take what I want
and ignore the rest.
No wonder I feel
guilt all the days of my life.
Makes good sense. Crime against
the whole,
moving violation. Damaged and
damaging.
How could it be other wise? It’s the
denial
and cover-up that’s toxic.
70 years
ago, after Norman Rockwell
Prayers
on the Front Porch, I would
now be
walking a half-block to my
father’s
Presbyterian Church and
flannel-board
Vacation Bible School
–stories
and hymns and art projects.
“Reverend,”
they called him, Johnstown
wives of
coal miners and steel workers---
families
living in the projects, drunks and
homeless
shelter.
“Weak
theologically and sentimental”—
according
to my Orthodox Presbyterian
FB
friend. “Liberal. Progressive.”
Afterwards
Junie Harbrant and me would
harvest
cigarette butts off the steps of the
Catholic
church--katy-corner across from the
Presbyterians
and the Holy Rollers & smokem
in the
empty lot behind the nunnery.
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