Wednesday, February 28, 2018

Dolly Parton ... and I don't mean her boobs

There's a soft spot in my heart for singer/musician/actress Dolly Parton: Whatever the size of her boobs -- and she's aware of the uses to which they can be put -- still there's a part of her that stands firmly on the earth I also stand on. Translation: She's not just an airhead with an astonishing chest.
Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library, the initiative she set up in honour of her illiterate father, has handed out its 100 millionth free book.
Free books.

Anyone reading these words is probably a bit like me -- a person who does not recognize that there are people in this world who cannot read or write ... and what a burdensome eight-ball that is to live behind. Illiteracy may be a puff of unacknowledged wind to me, but there are those for whom it is a weight that Atlas shouldered and more.

Dolly Parton -- bless her hide! -- boobs and all.

2 comments:

  1. I shall unashamedly celebrate her boobs, just 'cause.

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  2. Genkaku and Charlie,

    I feel something similar to being lost, yet it ain't so. I haven't been sitting with my eyes closed lately, I do sit, but I observe. It came to a point such as tonight when, intuitively I told myself, "The greatest regret I have this life being a zazen student is that I have no regrets."

    As a beginner I once was looking for break throughs in my practice all the time, these days I seldom. Yet, with all my debts paid up and enjoying my life in my home made zendo, it feels like a curse. I felt like I needed a time machine to go back to the past and make sure I drank at least one glass of alcohol which I did not, yet because I did not, the problem I am suffering from is that even a whore would have something to whine about, yet I cannot possibly whine about not being poor, doh! I am happy, because I don't need to whine and have nothing to whine about, yet, I have no use for my happiness unless I told you and Charlie about it. I can barely label my happiness as stupidity, it just happens because of what I did not do, yet in as far as it would be useless regretting what I might have done, it's even more useless regretting what I did not do.

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