Three Little Songs

The City of Angels and Constant Dangers

The last few days have been one hell of stretch. The wrong former president died,¹ the right European former wannabe Nazi died,² and Los Angeles decided to set itself on fire.³

I grew to love Jimmy Carter. I didn’t at first because I was a stupid, stupid child.

I told you was stupid.

Eventually I did grow the fuck up and came to see Jimmy as a sort of beacon. He lit the way with the kind of example you learn about in church on Sunday. To be clear, he was like the guy in that book they hold so dear, not like the people sitting in the pews. The older I got the more clear that contrast and the cooler he seemed to get. It wasn’t about history, or his presidency (although, The Camp David Accords is the kind legendary stuff that separates the chaff from the wheat as far as history goes). It was about the man. He quietly made the world a little bit better everyday with the time he had left. He was the type of human you (should) aspire to be more like. And I really just liked Uncle Jimmy.

So when…