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My brother must have been born on the southern side of the hospital. It’s almost as if the Mason-Dixon Line momentarily crossed the middle of Bartholomew County the day he was born. You can hear it in his expressions. One in particular is “God bless ‘em.”

He doesn’t mesmerize anyone with sweet-sounding vowels that ease out like hot butter on a biscuit; but when folks are being very, very good or very, very bad, he just starts stacking one “God bless ‘em” on top of another as he considers the situation.

In times of jubilation or confusion or I-don’t-get-it, I hear my brother’s calm “God bless ‘em.” Unfortunately, that phrase left my lips harshly this week when climate activists threw red paint on a picture of Columbus at the Naval Museum in Madrid. Even though the paint was biodegradable, I am reminded that in an imperfect world we often grasp at imperfect solutions.

Now I’m sure that there are those who feel such actions will shock the world into acknowledging their worries and into choosing better environmental options. Yet all I’m hearing is “If I can’t have something nice, then neither can you.” My brother asking “Why can’t we all get along” started echoing again in my ears like tinnitus.

That constant ringing was there when the Mona Lisa was assaulted with pumpkin soup - God bless em, when a poster was glued on a Monet - God bless em, and when orange-powder paint was tossed at Stonehenge - God bless ‘em. Next thing you know, someone will be aiming a Muncie milkshake at a Bob Ross landscape, and that will give me a headache too. God bless ‘em, as well.

Now I’m pretty sure this “purposeful” vandalism has been done thirty or more times in the past decade, and I truly don’t get it. Potential destruction of planet and art. I understand that. Who will enjoy art if our world can’t sustain life? I understand that. But one more one more of intentionally defacing the good stuff probably won’t make their message any clearer. I know that Andy Warhol’s soup poster didn’t make me want tomato soup more than vegetable. Repetition has its limits.

As best I can tell, some people who want a healthier climate hate art. Maybe their first John Gnagy Learn to Draw experience was awful. God bless ‘em. But, in my heart, my John Gnagy kit clearly commanded, “Thou shalt not use paint supplies to mar museum pieces, the wonders of the world, or the restroom at Willow Leaves.”

Our world needs advocates. This planet is clearly a good fixer upper. Heaven help us if restoration isn’t a goal, and we lose hope in building a better future for everyone here.

There is a Japanese story about a 25th century shogun whose favorite teapot was broken. No Walmart. No Tupperware lady, and UPS wasn’t into overnight delivery. It had to be repaired, not replaced. The initial solution involved stapling the pot back together, but that was visibly crude and hardly pretty.

Did he do the Shogun Mash and dance on everybody else’s teapot? Did he wallow in the “If I can’t have something nice, then neither can you” attitude? No, he searched for a more aesthetically pleasing approach. He refurbished the container with gold. It was the beginning of kintsugi.

Kintsugi means "golden joinery". It’s a repair process for broken pottery. Cracks and breaks are mended with a natural lacquer. Then instead of hiding the imperfections, the lacquer is dusted with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. Rather than relocating the teapot to the landfill, they made it more beautiful than the original. They added a little shine. God bless ‘em!

There are little things we can all do to make our world and lives better. Do I see a solution for any of the issues? Absolutely not. I’m not smart enough. However, I think that the individuals who will have that wisdom will also have a kintsugi perspective.

They will believe in resilience and hope and healing. They will see strength even when imperfections are apparent. They will see the possibilities of silver linings despite the faults, and they will add a little shine back in the world.

My brother would like those folks. He’d might say that they were finer than frog's hair and solemnly add, “God bless them each and every one.”