Never argue with.........

Reading for December 6, 2009

I have treasured a singular quote since reading it in the “drill” era of the 1950s. At that time in our grammar school education when we were becoming well “oiled” machines that positioned our flesh and blood under those hallowed desks, the Federal Civil Defense Administration published a pamphlet. The pamphlet was a guide on what to do when an atomic bomb had been dropped on you. (Like getting under a small wooden desk for protection – something, by the way, that has since been proven to be the optimal maneuver)

I suspect the one point managed to trigger a universal concinnity among sub and sub-acute as well as domain and a cute domains nuclear shells ~ thus completing my brain chemistry. Thus, among a number of life saving directives, from the government [~{ …...of the people..............by the people............and for the people}~] came the admonishment ( that during a nuclear blast, one should)  

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,"never argue with an insane person".........

I was to learn that there are times in life its best never to argue, period. There were also times; I would find that, determining what “crazy” meant, were events in which it seemed all the participants themselves were crazy.

On the plus side of life at the age of seven, I was old enough to venture around the block. My parents did not allow me to cross any street; but they deemed the alleys safe. The block was just so big and complex, though, that even trekking about every chance I got, I was still just on the Diversey side of my block. The significant thing was that all my explorations produced nothing but happiness; and, all the adventures that came from my traipsing totally reinforced the goodness and safety of the wonderful village in which I lived.

Thank you, Bob Gilham, for the term “village” herein. Bob, another Peace Corps Teacher, became one of my very best friends during our service together in Koforidua Ghana. After our duty in West Africa, Bob came from his California home to visit with me. He was flabbergasted. As he got his bearings, Bob could barely get the words out. “Everyone here knows you - by name - and they're all friendly; this isn’t a city neighborhood, it’s a village!” Bob continued with the remark that where he lives.... “a neighbor is the enemy!"

I needed all the best energies of my village as I was confronted by the scene of its members embroiled in a tangled mess.

In my village, my brothers had a friend, close to eldest brother Bob's age, whose name was Ronnie.

“What was the matter with him? Was he mad? What was he thinking? Was he crazy? I had my second glimpse into craziness in no time at all. Having barely made it through the preparation for likely annihilation by an Atomic Bomb Blast, I came home to find my home in an uproar.

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Happy daze,

The Captain