The Good, the Great and the Golden
Posted by LoisLane at Monday, January 28, 2008 11:54 PM and is filed under The Egg Chronicles,Times in Life 
I have found the solution to what I am now calling ‘The Great Egg Debate.’ It occurred to me, after yet a final, final, final update to ‘A Tangled Web,’ all hens really have to do is switch brands. Being low on funds, I skimped aiming for a bargain, inadvertently (BAH!) buying the low-grade, store brand. I vow to myself, and you, never to buy that brand again. It left a bad taste in my mouth as I’m still purging its remnants from my system.
It was only after talking with a favorite egg, who I suspected might chuck me in the bin after reading all I'd been up to, did I realize I was inadvertently (BAH! again) hard on good eggs everywhere.
So today is for you, the good, the great, the golden eggs. I didn’t even need to go back to the market. I had you all along in a special basket I had tucked away.
JUMBO EGG: John Seigenthaler, Sr.
Photo Courtesy of First Amendment Center
In 2003, I met a legend. A true newspaper hero to many and he quickly became a hero to me. This is not John Seigenthaler, Jr., former anchor at MSNBC, but his father. This is the Freedom Rider Seigenthaler of the civil rights era, attacked by the KuKluxKlan in Alabama and hospitalized for fighting for and alongside my people. He contributed significantly to the powerhouse reputation of The Tennessean the current caretakers are so carelessly squandering. He took on Wikipedia and its process when someone published lies about him and his decorated past. If you don’t know about him, Google him just don’t read Wiki. He is a man who gave me sage advice when my life depended on it. He is an egg I try to make proud every time my fingers touch a keyboard.
GRADE A EGG: Robbie Morganfield
(Disappointingly, no picture is available, which, if I know Robbie, may not be an accident. LOL)
As these things go, I wouldn’t have maintained such a close relationship with Mr. Seigenthaler had it not been for Robbie. He was my training editor, while I learned the technical ropes on my journey to being what I am today: writer, reporter, blogger. If he could have been my editor, I would still be at newspapers. If he were still an editor, I'd beg him to edit this here blog. He is a man above many. As a descendant of the legendary Muddy Waters, Robbie is a talented singer, a preacher, a good soul, who always gave of his time and his ear. When I moved to Nashville, this egg opened his home and gave of his company, and, yes, his advice at that most difficult moment. This egg has since moved on to bigger and better things, however, I hope and pray he will always remain my friend and mentor.
ORGANIC EGG: Terrance Dean
Photo Courtesy of Karen E. Quinones Miller
Being organic, this egg is good for the heart and soul. Terrance is that most precious and rarest of eggs. The egg friend who says it wants friendship, means it and knows how to give it. The egg friend who tells you when it’s time to throw in the towel on your Egg-of-the-Moment because it is no longer good for you and makes you sick. The egg friend that when you are too scared to go home says, “Come to my house.” The egg friend who puts you in touch with its contacts, so you can achieve your dream. A hen can never have too many of these eggs but, sadly, they are one of the rarest kind.
JUMBO, GRADE A, ORGANIC EGG: Ahmed Solomon Dean, I
As my own deviled egg split when I was barely a chick, my favorite, older cousin, Ahmed Dean, quickly became a role model, of which I measure many and know that I seek. A big heart, bigger shoulders and the biggest back to carry heavy loads, he could be the only one in my life to encompass so many qualities that he fits in all three categories. A fighter, a provider and strong as an ox, it was he who stepped in to help my aunt when my grandmother was dying and other available blood-related eggs wouldn’t or couldn’t. I adore this egg, always have and always will. If I ever do meet that GE of mine and am convinced to hatch a little egg of my own, I would like to name it Solomon because that could be the only gift I could give large enough to match his spirit and contribution to my life.
There are more good, great and golden eggs: my stepfather, Ron, my brother Atle, his father, Frode, giver-of-my-big-newspaper-break-and-true-believer-in-me, Phill Casaus, another good friend, Chris Jones and the-ever-helpful-in-Prague, Kingsley. Please understand, I have so many good eggs I couldn't possibily list them all. If I attempted to I would be here day-and-night writing and it’s already after 7 a.m. So I must bid you adieu and to the egg chronicles too, for I feel like I’m done--for now.
If it took the loss of one egg, or even all, to realize I possess the greatest eggs already, then it was definitely well worth the trouble. Gotta go take out the trash before I hit the sack. Eggshells really do stink.
Who are the good, great and golden eggs in your life?
It was only after talking with a favorite egg, who I suspected might chuck me in the bin after reading all I'd been up to, did I realize I was inadvertently (BAH! again) hard on good eggs everywhere.
So today is for you, the good, the great, the golden eggs. I didn’t even need to go back to the market. I had you all along in a special basket I had tucked away.
JUMBO EGG: John Seigenthaler, Sr.
Photo Courtesy of First Amendment Center
In 2003, I met a legend. A true newspaper hero to many and he quickly became a hero to me. This is not John Seigenthaler, Jr., former anchor at MSNBC, but his father. This is the Freedom Rider Seigenthaler of the civil rights era, attacked by the KuKluxKlan in Alabama and hospitalized for fighting for and alongside my people. He contributed significantly to the powerhouse reputation of The Tennessean the current caretakers are so carelessly squandering. He took on Wikipedia and its process when someone published lies about him and his decorated past. If you don’t know about him, Google him just don’t read Wiki. He is a man who gave me sage advice when my life depended on it. He is an egg I try to make proud every time my fingers touch a keyboard.
GRADE A EGG: Robbie Morganfield
(Disappointingly, no picture is available, which, if I know Robbie, may not be an accident. LOL)
As these things go, I wouldn’t have maintained such a close relationship with Mr. Seigenthaler had it not been for Robbie. He was my training editor, while I learned the technical ropes on my journey to being what I am today: writer, reporter, blogger. If he could have been my editor, I would still be at newspapers. If he were still an editor, I'd beg him to edit this here blog. He is a man above many. As a descendant of the legendary Muddy Waters, Robbie is a talented singer, a preacher, a good soul, who always gave of his time and his ear. When I moved to Nashville, this egg opened his home and gave of his company, and, yes, his advice at that most difficult moment. This egg has since moved on to bigger and better things, however, I hope and pray he will always remain my friend and mentor.
ORGANIC EGG: Terrance Dean
Photo Courtesy of Karen E. Quinones Miller
Being organic, this egg is good for the heart and soul. Terrance is that most precious and rarest of eggs. The egg friend who says it wants friendship, means it and knows how to give it. The egg friend who tells you when it’s time to throw in the towel on your Egg-of-the-Moment because it is no longer good for you and makes you sick. The egg friend that when you are too scared to go home says, “Come to my house.” The egg friend who puts you in touch with its contacts, so you can achieve your dream. A hen can never have too many of these eggs but, sadly, they are one of the rarest kind.
JUMBO, GRADE A, ORGANIC EGG: Ahmed Solomon Dean, I
As my own deviled egg split when I was barely a chick, my favorite, older cousin, Ahmed Dean, quickly became a role model, of which I measure many and know that I seek. A big heart, bigger shoulders and the biggest back to carry heavy loads, he could be the only one in my life to encompass so many qualities that he fits in all three categories. A fighter, a provider and strong as an ox, it was he who stepped in to help my aunt when my grandmother was dying and other available blood-related eggs wouldn’t or couldn’t. I adore this egg, always have and always will. If I ever do meet that GE of mine and am convinced to hatch a little egg of my own, I would like to name it Solomon because that could be the only gift I could give large enough to match his spirit and contribution to my life.
There are more good, great and golden eggs: my stepfather, Ron, my brother Atle, his father, Frode, giver-of-my-big-newspaper-break-and-true-believer-in-me, Phill Casaus, another good friend, Chris Jones and the-ever-helpful-in-Prague, Kingsley. Please understand, I have so many good eggs I couldn't possibily list them all. If I attempted to I would be here day-and-night writing and it’s already after 7 a.m. So I must bid you adieu and to the egg chronicles too, for I feel like I’m done--for now.
If it took the loss of one egg, or even all, to realize I possess the greatest eggs already, then it was definitely well worth the trouble. Gotta go take out the trash before I hit the sack. Eggshells really do stink.
Who are the good, great and golden eggs in your life?
Yes, good eggs keep nurturing to make impressions that keep us strong and prepare us for the mishaps that come along.
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AILENE YOU KNOW WHAT I AM DOING AT THIS MOMENT!!!! THEIR CAN BE NO GREATER APPRECIATION I HAVE FOR MY NEPHEW, HE IS THE FATHER I WISH I HAD!!!!!!!
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Hey Aunt Carol Hen,
I know you like to think you're tough and will curse anybody who says you're not but, if you are as tough as I am, you cried when you read it. By the time I wrote the piece on my Organic Egg, I was like: sniff-sniff. When I got to penning Ahmed's I was like: WAAAAAAAAAAH! Couldn't even see the keyboard. I said to myself, "Dang, I really needed to write that."
Yes, it is true. Ahmed Dean is a JUMBO, GRADE A, ORGANIC egg to us all. I can't wait for Myra to read it. I know she adores him as well. Glad you came by. Been missing your loud-talking (the ALL CAPS thing) hen self.
Much love to you and Stan the Man.
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I am like you, I have too many Great eggs to name, but the 1st one to come to mind, is Mrs. Strickland, my foster grandmother, who taught me compassion, love, values, and how to love unconditually.
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