I don’t remember knowing at that time whether mom was a Democrat or a Republican, but I do remember knowing decisively, at that very moment, that I would always be a Democrat because I wanted to care about people and I didn't want to care about money.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me A Million Times - Chapter 95
#95 Republicans care about money. Democrats care
about people.
When I was a child, I asked my mom, “What’s the difference
between Republicans and Democrats?” With just the
slightest pause, perhaps thinking how to explain something very complicated to
an eight-year-old, she replied, “Republicans care about money. Democrats care
about people.”
I don’t remember knowing at that time whether mom was a Democrat or a Republican, but I do remember knowing decisively, at that very moment, that I would always be a Democrat because I wanted to care about people and I didn't want to care about money.
I don’t remember knowing at that time whether mom was a Democrat or a Republican, but I do remember knowing decisively, at that very moment, that I would always be a Democrat because I wanted to care about people and I didn't want to care about money.
Mom didn’t say that
Republicans or Democrats were good or bad. She just gave me information so I could decide what was important to me. And I did.
The Family That Couldn't Sleep: A Medical Mystery by D. T. Max
The Family That
Couldn’t Sleep is a well written, fascinating, terrifying and depressing
read, so only read it if you have a rather morbid curiosity about scary medical
conditions and aren’t freaked out by doomsayers.
Author D. T. Max (pictured right) does a good job of explaining a complicated
group of related disorders caused by radical proteins called prion disease,
which scientists predict will come to overshadow bird flu, aids and other
viruses within the next two decades.
He begins with the story of an Italian family that for at
least 200 years has been plagued by an extremely rare hereditary disorder
called fatal familial insomnia that, after the onset at approximately 50 years
of age, destroys the brain’s capacity to fall asleep. There are about 40
families around the world known to have this horrible disease, the symptoms of
which are particularly ugly. Victims begin to hold the head stiffly to one side
and sweat profusely. Then their pupils contract to pinpoints, their heart rate
increases dramatically, and sleep becomes impossible. Dementia is followed by a
coma, and then death from exhaustion in about a year or two. So far doctors
have not found anything to stop the progress of the illness, which is passed to
one half of each succeeding generation.
The author then takes us to New Guinea where a related neurological
condition, kuru, is discovered in the Fore tribe, who, after eating the brains
of their dead relatives as a show of respect, develop symptoms similar to those
of fatal familial insomnia. This brain-eating thing reminded me of Jean Aurel’s
book, Clan of the Cave Bear, a fictional
account of a pre-historic family who ate the brains of their deceased family
members to gain their knowledge. The major difference being that kuru was
discovered in 1976!
And then there’s bovine spongiform encephalopathy, commonly
known as mad cow disease, and chronic wasting disease in deer, both of
which are fatal neurodegenerative disease that causes a spongy
degeneration in the brain and spinal cord; and sheep scrapies, a
disease that makes sheep so itchy they scratch themselves bald and bloody in
their search for relief. These three diseases apparently started when man got
the bright idea to turn animals into cannibals to make them grow bigger and
therefore more profitable for their owners. Yep, they were grinding up dead cows,
sheep and deer to make feed for them, including the ones who died of the above
prion diseases, passing along the disease to others cows, sheep and deer, and
ultimately to us eaters of cows, sheep and deer. Max says, “Prions sit at the
intersection of humans' ambition and nature's unpredictability and it is hard
to say which is more dangerous.” Lovely.
Waging Heavy Peace: A Hippie Dream by Neil Young
Perhaps it goes back to my brief but memorable “groupie”
days, but I enjoy books about aging rock stars. Two of my favorites are
Chronicles: Volume One by Bob Dylan
and Life by Keith Richards. I only
recently started enjoying Neil Young’s music and when I saw that his
autobiography Waging Heavy Peace was
out, I knew it would soon join the stack of “must reads” on my nightstand.
Unfortunately, I made the poor decision to take Young’s
memoir with me to read on a flight to Key West. This 500-page tome was just too
cumbersome, in every sense of the word, disjointed and irritating. Young jumps
around and never gives us a firm fix on context, sequence or the people who
populated his life. Truman Capote said that Kerouac’s work was “typing, not
writing.” I agree. Stream of consciousness writing may be a good mind dump, but
it doesn’t necessarily tell the story. About halfway through, I tossed it to
the side.
After I got home from Key West, and got over being mad at
Young for not giving me a beach read, I picked it up again and just let his
words fall on me with no expectations. Wading through his somewhat surreal
droppings, I learned more about what Neil Young likes to talk about, than who
he is.
Here’s what I gleaned from Waging Heavy Peace:
- Based upon the amount of time given in the book, it is pretty apparent that Young, above all else it seems, loves to buy things – especially cars, houses, electric trains, guitars and drugs. He worships his electric Lincoln Continental “LincVolt,” (pictured right) and his electric trains.
- It would seem an omission on my part if I didn’t mention that he has a quadriplegic son. Although it is very apparent that he loves both his son and daughter (pictured above right), I found it strange that he talks more about LincVolt than his kids.
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