why don't you smile awhile for me, jenny.

She smiles so beautifully, with so much joy, it's contagious like yawning. You can't help but pull a Joker when you see it. You feel a little different afterwards. Not much, but different. Hot shower after a hot day different.
I didn't know why for the longest time why she had this...ability. My inability to understand did not stop the inevitable from happening.

I see, I cheese.
My homeboys' see, they cheese.
Random restaurant diners see, they cheese.

Nor did it stop my desire of wanting that "different" feeling afterwards. Caused by something as simple as a smile.
It takes me back to the time before all of this. A time when doing a pennydrop off the monkey bars was nothing short of miraculous. Ride bikes to play ball, play ball to a fight, fight to the corner store, and eat 25 cent bags till the hum of the streetlights signaled the end of day well spent. A smile had heavy value back then. The bottom hadn't fallen out of the market yet. Price riding high and constant.
I mean, you carried the look and the smile from your 5th grade crush in your heart for at least a week. It became the thought that you recalled in your quiet time, away from it all. Made you stare at your feet and wonder if that hummingbird trapped in your chest would ever take a nap. And it did, till you saw her again. And if your lucky, that gift wrapped behind lips would be unwrapped for you. You didn't need it forever, the 5 seconds was plenty.

This stuff was potent. 5 seconds lasted you 5 days. Beating drugs at their own game.

She takes me back to this. And I now know why. Her simple gift is just the beginning of seeing who she is. The smile shows us her beauty, hidden deep inside. That will sustain her even when the looks fade. That will sustain us when she fades.
5 second exposure, a lifetime picture of true beauty.

Polaroids don't last that long

Thank you.

a recipe for the impossible.

Ingredients:

1) Love.

much more.

I was watching "Ali" recently. Everytime I watch this movie, one segment hits me particularly hard. Settles heavily on me like a steel blanket.
Ali has come to Africa for the second time, to battle George Foreman for the heavyweight championship of the world. He had his own title stripped from him in 1964 for failing to accept induction into the United States Armed Forces. 32 years old, his prime boxing years have passed, being unable to box anywhere as he fought against the U.S. Government to overturn his conviction for refusing the induction, and fighting against boxing commissions in every state to regain a boxing license so he can fight somewhere. Anywhere.
George Foreman is young, and looks like a superhuman experiment gone wrong. George Foreman laid Smokin' Joe Frazier out like a rug. People all over believe this same fate will visit Ali. Critics doubt him. His wife doubts him.

He doubts himself.

Everytime he goes anywhere in Zaire, he goes with great fanfare. A simple jog is no different, as people swarm him, chanting "Bumaye Ali!" (Ali, kill him). He wonders briefly about this attention he his receiving, but dismisses it. He his Ali, the greatest heavyweight of all time. He is Ali, the "Louisville Lip" who proclaims his greatness from every mountain top, or hill, or small mound, to any ear within range. He is Ali, who fought against Big Brother, the sho' nuff badddest brother around town, and won.
As he jogs through town, however, he sees for the first time why these people follow him. People who have no doubt heard of some of his exploits, but not all of them, and none of the details. They have no real reason to love him as they do, but that does not stop the outpouring of love that they shower upon Ali.
Pictures are scrawled on every blank space with depictions of a larger than life Ali, fighting tanks and planes. Mosquitos that carry malaria. Fighting despair, sickness, hopelessness, war, famine, hunger, oppression.

He is more than a boxer to the people of Zaire. Much more.
He has transcended being a "mere mortal". He has become a feeling, an emotion.

He is hope.

Damn. Damn. Heavy.

And in that, he finds the strength to do the impossible.

We are all more than advertised. God has given us all gifts that allow us to become a emotion to someone. Joy. Peace. Hope.
To become a feeling. Inspiration. Motivation. Sanity.

We can inspire those around us to achieve anything.

We all are more to someone than we believe ourselves. More than a friend. More than a daughter, son, brother, sister, aunt, uncle.

We have to realize that we have the ability to do the impossible.
Much more.