By Stan Lee
When God made man he went all out
As far as we can tell
He made some black, He made some white
And other shades as well
He placed them on the verdant Earth
To live and love and thrive
He favored none, He loved each one
And kept that love alive
Now the Lord’s perplexed and growing vexed
At those who’d mar his plan
Instead of love some practice hate
A practice we must ban
We all must share this tiny sphere
On which we live and die
Respect for all, in every way,
Should be our battle cry
It’s not too late to initiate
Friendship between the races
So let’s heed the call of the Lord of All
With the love that He embraces
I had a nice Monday -- the rain held off till evening, so I could get to the park, and I met my mother at the synagogue's annual holiday boutique, where I ran into many people I know, including friends from high school, parents of my kids' friends from preschool, and longtime friends of my mother. Plus we caught up on Sunday's Supergirl (still appreciating the sociopolitical bent of this season) and saw tonight's Legends of Tomorrow (was the show always this good or has it really stepped up its game?).
But the day was overshadowed by the news of Stan Lee's death, which I wouldn't have guessed would hit me so hard. It's not like it was unexpected -- he was in his 90s, had been ailing, had lost his wife of seven decades -- and it's not like I grew up a big fan of comic books, I don't think I even knew who he was till I was in college. Still, he is irreplaceable as an entertainer and as a person, a champion of seeing the humanity in villains and accepting flaws in heroes. Here are some moments he gave me personally:
With Angela at Captain America: Civil War.
With my kids on the Walk of Fame.
With Denise after seeing The Avengers.
With Noah Syndergaard as Thor in New York after a Mets game.
With Cheryl at Black Panther.
With friends at Captain America: The Winter Soldier.
With my family at MoPOP's Marvel exhibit.