It is, for sure, the story of life: There are good days, good things, good people, good times -- and there are bad.

But it is so underscored in black life that it seems more like paradox or irony than duality. As a people, we seem to live on both extremes, with every great accomplishment and every high tempered and sobered by a defeat and a sorrowful low.

More black women are scoring in the work and business world. But more are also enjoying their success alone, living without a mate when they would prefer one.

For every three black young men, two still have a future to nurture, at least theoretically. But most don’t go to or graduate from college; black males populate the largest demographic category of the unemployed and of homicide victims; and the third guy is in jail, in prison, on parole or on probation.

The black middle class has grown by leaps and bounds, with lots of massive homes in gated communities, St. John’s knits in carpeted, walk-in closets and Jaguars in three-car garages to show for it. But the number of us in poverty has grown too. And the poor have gotten poorer.

Black voter registration has grown consistently, bucking a national trend. But black voter turnout, especially among young voters, is still lax.

There are notable advances in combating HIV/AIDS and, arguably, we have loads of information on prevention. But the disease is preying on the black community because we are still hung up on our libidinous legends and won’t come clean about homosexuality, promiscuity and machismo and practice what we know. 

Back in May, Morehouse College graduated the largest class in its 139-year history -- 600 educated, able young brothers who had passed the test, sometimes gloriously so and, in several instances, against the worst odds.

Now, four current or former Morehouse men are accused of torturing to death one of their classmates, allegedly because he wouldn’t cough up the $3,000 he got from an insurance company as compensation for his injuries in a car wreck.

So I ask you, Could we please have a story in which the happy ending is really the ending? Must there always be a “meanwhile” or “on the other hand,” a flip side attached?

I was prepared to write with rejoicing about the Morehouse grads.  An old friend had called it to my attention, emailing this link, where I found moving music and pictures -- the processional of men, proud in their robes and led through the campus by drummers in African garb. Old alums flush with pride and reverie. Gleeful parents and siblings. Joy, satisfaction, optimism, goodness.

“This is absolutely beautiful,” my friend wrote. “But where was BC, NCB, CBS, Fox, CNN, MSNBC, UPN, BET and every other news media?  Was it not newsworthy?  If this had been 500 blacks rioting, every network would have provided coverage.” And this: “Did anyone besides Atlantans see these pictures in their newspapers?”

Indeed. The news media, of which I have long been a part, has been so consistent with negative coverage about black people, especially of black men, that it’s a wonder they consider it news anymore. In fact, if you rely on the basic definition of news -- something unusual, unprecedented or unexpected –- you would think the mainstream media would have considered the Morehouse commencement worthy of extraordinary coverage.

You can rest assured that there will be no such oversight in the case of the murder of young Carlnell James Walker, Jr., who was beaten to a pulp and left to die in the trunk of a car, allegedly by friends who ultimately netted $20. 

Fact is, the case deserves pull-out-all-the-stops treatment. It is unusual, unprecedented and unexpected for college boys -- all reportedly from “good” families -- to commit such an atrocity. The tragedy has a legitimate news hook.

But wouldn’t it be wonderful, just once, to have seen the other Morehouse story too?  And wouldn’t it have been the best if that was all there was to tell?