Cohort: (n) a group of people banded together
I have a son who’s convinced that I am becoming more conservative as I get older.
Actually, nothing could be further from the truth. Age has done one thing and only one thing for me–it has insisted that I be practical.
It stands over me, often in a threatening pose, barking in my ear that the plans I had made to do something beyond my physical abilities are not filled with initiative, but rather, reek of stupidity.
I become more and more astounded with the simplicity of the statement, “Those that are not against us are for us.”
Therefore, mankind is my cohort, and I, its.
I am looking for reasons to enjoy the people around me instead of tagging them as enemies to be avoided.
Every time I read something, I find one little tiny nugget of valuable common sense. It doesn’t matter whether it’s the Bible or the Communist Manifesto–each document has a golden gleam which makes its writing valuable and worthy of human hearing.
But also, each document is chock-full of filler–statements thrown in, sometimes as afterthoughts and often in ignorance.
So when a Republican talks, I listen for sense. Likewise, when a Democrat shares, I probe the speech for reasonability. In the process of doing this, I find myself making more friends and being far less critical.
Recently a friend asked what I thought about a song that was being touted on the Internet. I replied, “They started on the same beat, didn’t miss a lyric and ended in pitch.”
There’s a lot to be said for that. It is a fine beginning for discussion. But often, humans will find one word within the body of the poetry which they consider distasteful, and relegate the entire presentation to being hellish nothingness.
A cohort of critics.
I found out some time ago that the world never gets anything right. Celebration occurs when the effort comes close.
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