“This is the most sensible man that I ever say in my life.”
—Mrs. Porter, on Dr. Johnson, quoted in W. Jackson Bate, Samuel Johnson
I live with the most sensible person I’ve ever seen in my life.
I often speak to her in superlatives but it goes in one ear and out the other. Her vanity seemed to be exhausted by the assertion in 1996 that she “was the best basketball player in the surrounding eight states.”
Her common sense is decidedly rare.
I borrow Chris Isherwood’s words— She was someone you could rely on absolutely. [That’s Joanie in eight words!]
Sensible as a gardener, noticing what she notices.
Sensible as a friend by being calm, cool, collected.
Sensible as a practitioner of Feldenkrais who enjoys Gotama’s right livelihood as she is able to educate and ease the suffering of people, and, in some cases, help them to live out Moshe’s maxim” To make the impossible, possible; to make the possible, easy; and to make the easy, elegant.”
Sensible as maintaining Olympian and disdaining distance from social media (no Facebook, Instagram, Twitter).
Sensible for the sensible people she has kept in touch with over the many decades, like Therese and Penny.
When I returned happily from Palestine, I told her, “You would have been great over there—because you can do anything” (what could I do, but listen, take notes and, long after, make some kind of book out of it). Example: she could have entertained children of all ages with sports and games to play. She’d be improviser on the spot, to the delight of those facing grinding grey days and fearful nights.
