If the sun wasn't as bright Friday, if the moon seemed morose, if the stars seemed muted, it's because the the world is less than it once was. That which is irreplaceable is gone. An expanse of soul, poetry, conscience, heart and humor has left us.
I loved Muhammad Ali. I embraced him when I was in junior high, a defiant age, a man-child living in a rebellious time, and Ali was the biggest rebel of them all. He didn't just defy convention, he danced around it, teased it, ultimately knocked it out, and then wrote poems about it. Rumble, young man, rumble!