Fame, Fortune, Cars, Women and Immortality – Cars

15 Oct 2026 2 Comments

by Dr. John Persico Jr. in Uncategorized

My first car was a 1947 four door blue Plymouth.  The car cost me fifty dollars, and I lost my virginity in this car. 

My father found the car for me.  It belonged to a friend of his who had died and left the car.  I bought the car from his widow in 1962 after I turned sixteen.  I paid for the car myself.  I was working nights in a Mammoth Mart where I ran the concession stand and sometimes the grill. 

The deal was that I had to pay for the car, insurance and any gas I used.  My father would teach me to drive.  It goes without saying that it was a stick shift. 

The car was in mint condition until I rammed it into our garage door while attempting to park it after a training session with my dad.  He was not happy about the garage, but it did little damage to the car.  The car was built like a tank.  This was accident number 1. 

I had three accidents in this car. 

The second accident was when I ran over some rough roads and ripped the bottom out of the oil pan.  Stupid me.  I tried to keep driving to get home until the engine froze up.  We had the car towed.  My uncle and I dropped the oil  pan later on and put new rings and rods in the engine.  It did not quite run like new again, but it did run.    

The guys on the corner loved the car because of the big back seat.  It was like a small sofa. Guys would borrow my car to make out with their girlfriends.  Back in the sixties, the choices for making out were very limited. 

Cops would patrol the local parks and harass you if they found a couple in a car in any stage of undress.  Parents of course back in the sixties did not condone bringing your girlfriend home for such activities. 

Thus, a big dark sofa in the back of a car parked someplace inconspicuous lent itself to many an endeavor.  That back seat is where I lost my virginity.  I did not know the girl’s name and never saw her again.  She was just one of many girls who stopped by our street corner periodically for a midnight tryst.  The guys all knew that I was a virgin and as the window steamed up in the car, I could see a few of the assholes trying to peek in on me.  My “first time” left a lot to be desired.  I learned from this that sex means a great deal more when love is involved.

The third accident with this vehicle happened this way.  I was coming over a rise in a rural road when a friend and I were out just tooling around.  I did not see that there was a stop sign at an intersection.  It was actually obscured by a bush.  I thundered into the middle of a main road and ran smack into a car with a family in it.  The impact rolled the other car and did quite a bit of damage to my car.  By some fortune, no one in either car was hurt.  It could have been a tragedy but fortunately for all, it was not. 

The police were called.  An ambulance was called.  I was in a bit of shock and so were some of the other people.  I received a summons for reckless driving and had to appear in court.  The judge decided that I was not at fault.  I decided to junk the car.  The guys on the corner wanted me to get it fixed but I was tired of the car.  You can guess why they were very disappointed.

My next car was a 1954 two door Mercury coupe with a 256 cubic inch engine with a two barrel carb.  This car saw many a drag race down Pedersen strip at night.  We would bet money on who would win.  I took on many a small block 283 Chevy and 289 Ford and beat them.  It was easy to get them to put up the dough since most thought that since their engines were bigger, they would blow me off easily.  I always won if they had two barrel carbs but occasionally I would race Chevs or Fords with a 4 barrel carb.  I only won about ½ my races with these guys.

I left this car when I left home one night and joined the military the next day. 

Other guys I knew had cars I could only dream of having.  Corvettes and even Jaguar XKE’s were all owned by some guys I knew who had parents with money.  I could only dream that someday I could afford to buy one.  To date, I have never owned either, though I did buy a used Porsche 924 a number of years later.

Of course, my real dream was that I could pull up alongside some cool looking girls from Dean Estates and say, “Hi babe, want to go for a ride with me?”  They would hop in my speedy sports car and I would drive by the corner and the guys on the corner would all drool while envying me my car and my new girlfriends. 

There is a link between cars and men and women.  The ads show it.  The movies show it.  But does real life show it?  Do beautiful women and beautiful expensive cars have some type of symbiotic relationship?  Will you really get the woman of your dreams with a Ferrari or Lamborghini? 

I think it is another form of brainwashing.  Not all people succumb to it.  But as a young man, I was conditioned to believe that money, fast cars and beautiful women would make me happy and successful.  Jesus could preach poverty and charity all he wanted to.  I would choose fame and fortune.  Only years later did I realize that Jesus and all the great prophets were wise.  Unlike Madison Avenue they were not trying to tell us that buying more things would make us happy and successful. 

I must ask this question.  Do some women buy expensive sports cars to snag the “man of their dreams?”  I doubt it, but who knows.  I would imagine women are also brainwashed into thinking that Fame and Fortune will guarantee them happiness.    

I wonder if I would have been more attracted to Karen if she had owned a Pagani Zonda or a Bugatti La Voiture Noire. 

But how long can a relationship last if the foundation is built on a Ford F-150 Raptor R or a Dodge Ram 1500 Tungsten? 

I am not really sure.  I would have to know how many miles I could go before needing a new model.  That pertains to the vehicle and not my wife. 

As far as Karen goes, I would say that she is an “Oldie but a goodie.”  By all means, a keeper.

Is America a Land of Violence and Hate? – Xenophobia

10 Oct 2026 2 Comments

by Dr. John Persico Jr. in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

What the hell is Xenophobia?  Whenever I have used this word, this is a common question I get asked.  Ironically, it is a very common behavior in America.  You would think that everyone knew exactly what it means.  On any given day in the USA, there are examples of Xenophobia in the news. 

Now I pride myself on doing blog posts that will appeal to the average person.  No big words that only someone with a Ph.D. can understand.  Yet here I am using a word that perhaps a large percent of Americans would not know what it means.  So, I guess that it is time to pull the curtain back and “give it up.” 

Xenophobia is the irrational fear, hatred, or dislike of people from other countries, cultures, or backgrounds who are perceived as foreign or strange.

Key Characteristics

  • Origin: The word comes from the ancient Greek words xenos (meaning “stranger” or “guest”) and phobos (meaning “fear” or “flight”). It first appeared in English in the late 19th century.
  • In-Group vs. Out-Group: It is built on the mental division of people into an “in-group” (those who belong) and an “out-group” (outsiders viewed as a threat).
  • Common Triggers: It often spikes during economic hardship, political instability, or rapid social and demographic changes, where outsiders are used as scapegoats for local problems.
  • Manifestations: It can lead to social exclusion, verbal harassment, discrimination, institutional policies against migrants, or violence.

A Xenophobe is a person who strongly dislikes, distrusts, or fears people perceived as  foreigners, strangers, or members of a different culture or nation.

How often have you heard people say “This is America, speak English” or “If you don’t like it here go back to your own country?” 

Let’s break this definition of Xenophobia down further:

In-Group vs. Out-Group:

My team, my church, my religion, my God, my beliefs, my group, my club, my race, my ethnic group is better than your group.  In fact, my group is so much better than your group, that I think we need to eliminate your group from America. 

The thinking that underlies the belief that my group is superior can lead to the idea that violence is justified so as to eliminate your group.  In some cases, this will mean taking the rights away from other people.  In the extreme it can mean denial of basic rights, expulsion, physical attacks or murder.  History has repeatedly shown us a progression of violence against others that goes from stereotyping, to blame, to tolerating humiliation of others, to denying fair treatment and sometimes ending in violence.  Think Nazi Germany. 

If you have been paying attention, you will notice that people we call racists, bigots, sexists all share many of the characteristics of Xenophobia. 

Xenophobia, racism, sexism, and Homophobia can share common biases and reinforce one another, while targeting different characteristics.  However, there are some substantive differences between Xenophobia and Racism as well as between Xenophobia and Sexism and Xenophobia and Homophobia.  For instance:

Xenophobia vs. Racism

  • Xenophobia focuses on a person’s nationality, culture, or foreign status (the idea that someone is an “outsider” who does not belong).
  • Racism is a belief system that judges an individual’s worth or capabilities based on fixed physical attributes like skin color or racial category.
  • While they often overlap and feed into each other, a person can experience or display them independently.

Xenophobia vs. Sexism

Xenophobia and sexism are both forms of systemic prejudice and discrimination, but they differ fundamentally in their targets, origins, and expressions.  Xenophobia targets people based on their nationality, geographic origin, or cultural foreignness, whereas sexism targets individuals based on their sex or gender identity.

Xenophobia vs. Homophobia

Xenophobia and Homophobia are both forms of systematic prejudice rooted in an irrational aversion to a specific group, but they target entirely different aspects of identity and operate on different social dynamics.  While Xenophobia targets a person’s geographic, national, or cultural origin, Homophobia targets a person’s sexual orientation.

Shared Similarities between Xenophobia and other Prejudices:

  • Scapegoating:  Minorities, women, gay people and immigrants are frequently scapegoated by political or social movements during times of societal stress to deflect attention from structural problems.

Now one might well ask, well how much Xenophobia actually exists in the USA today or perhaps how many Xenophobic people are there in the USA?   Here is what my AI assistant gave me in response to this question.

SurveyFindingWhat it tells us
PRRI, March 2026 report33% agreed that “Immigrants are invading our country and replacing our cultural and ethnic background”; 62% disagreed.A substantial minority endorses a belief I would interpret as a strong indicator of xenophobic attitudes.
Gallup, June 202621% said immigration is bad for the country; 73% said it is good.Most Americans favor immigration overall.  The negative response alone does not establish prejudice.

PRRI: Immigration Enforcement, ICE, and Civil Liberties in the Second Trump Administration — March 26, 2026.  Source for the 33% agreement with the invasion-and-cultural-replacement statement.

Gallup: Americans’ Support for Immigration Down, Still Strong — Source for the June 2026 findings: 73% said immigration is good for the country; 21% said it is bad.

My best assessment is Xenophobia affects tens of millions of Americans and has considerable political significance, but the evidence does not support calling most Americans xenophobic. We can measure the prevalence of specific hostile beliefs much more confidently than we can count “xenophobic people.”

Conclusions:

I would like to leave you with three questions.  If we can create one iota of doubt in even a few of the people out there who exhibit some of the hostilities I have discussed we would have made some progress. 

No one is born Xenophobic.  Many of us welcome meeting new people, experiencing new cultures, talking with people who are not “just like we are” or people who “do not belong to our clan or church or group.”  

Just like Racism, Sexism and Homophobia, Xenophobia is learned.  Something that is learned can be unlearned.  But it takes developing some empathy and compassion for all people.  The Baháʼí believe in the Unity of all humanity.  We are all one people on the face of the earth trying our best to do what we can to lead a decent life and create a good future for our children. 

Xenophobia is a virulent disease.  It spreads from one Xenophobe to another.  It becomes  a group identity and a safe haven from having to question one’s own prejudices. 

An open Democratic society is not a society that is without risks. 

In the “Parable of the Good Samaritan”, the Samaritan gave aid to a wounded traveler thought to be Jewish.  First-century Jews and Samaritans were divided by deep religious and historical hostility.  The Samaritan gave his own money and time to help the victim with no guarantee that he would be paid back.  The Samaritan crossed a boundary of prejudice to help someone outside his own group.

Three Questions:

  • How do you think people coming to this country for a better life feel when they are told “Go back to where you belong, we don’t want you here?”
  • How do you think people who belong to a different group than you do feel when they are told they are dirty, dangerous and unclean or worthless?
  • What do you think Jesus would say to an immigrant who needed asylum or to a Gay person who simply wanted to be treated like other people? 

Is America a Land of Violence and Hate?  – Domestic Violence

04 Oct 2026 13 Comments

by Dr. John Persico Jr. in Uncategorized Tags: , , , ,

For many years, I had an anger management problem.  I never saw the problem even when  Julie left me the first time.  We reconciled a few months later.  We missed each other.  However, I still had not realized that my anger was affecting our marriage.  I was told by the marriage counselor that we saw that I had an anger problem.  However, since  I never hit or physically hurt Julie or my daughter Chris, I did not accept his assessment.  Not until years later did I realize how much my behaviors scared them and the fear that they lived with on a daily basis.

I would throw things.  I would smash things.  I would punch the walls.  I once bragged that every wall in our house had a hole in it where I punched it.  I did not get any help for my anger problem or even realize that I needed help until 1984 when Julie and I decided to call it quits for good.   

I decided to go back to school to get a Ph.D. degree.  Although I had gone to a few other shrinks over the years, the issue of my anger problem with these other counselors never came up.  I would go to see them for reasons more related to my OCD and depression.  I also had recurring nightmares that someone was trying to kill me.  Since counseling was free for students, I decided to see a counselor who was at the University of Minnesota. 

We met several times.  Then one day, she looked me in the eyes and said, “You have an anger management problem.”   To me that meant I could not control my temper and assaulted people.  I still could not see that anger and my behaviors with my wife and daughter had been abusive.  I denied it.  She insisted.  She said that she wanted me to go to the Domestic Violence Program Center at the Wilder Center in St. Paul for an anger assessment.  We argued over this “waste” of my time, but I finally relented.

She set up an appointment with a counselor there for me to see.  I was expecting a woman and instead a younger man sat across a table from me looking quite smug and self-assured.  I immediately disliked him and his attitude. 

He started asking me more and more personal questions.  I was getting more and more pissed at his questions.  He then asked the question that really set me off.   “Did you ever molest your daughter sexually?”  At that point, I stood up and said, “How would you like me to knock your teeth down your throat?”  To my surprise, he merely laughed and said, “You have an anger management problem.”  Suddenly, like a bolt out of the sky, I knew he was right.

I joined the Domestic Abuse Program, someplace, I never thought I belonged.  Yes, I had many fights, but they were always with other guys who back then I labeled as assholes.

I did the 12-week program and then spent three years coming back to a weekly support group for men who had gone through the program.  We had doctors, lawyers, teachers, plumbers, carpenters, truck drivers and men from many other walks of life.  One guy “a lawyer” had thrown a beer can at his wife and knocked her eye out.  Most of the men initially blamed their wives for causing their anger.  Over time and being caringly confronted by men in the group who had gone before them, they finally saw what I had learned.  It was my fault.  Not my wife’s fault, or anyone else’s fault.  My anger was my responsibility and no one else’s.

The program forced me to look at who I was and what I did and how I was responsible for my actions.  Men in the support groups would not allow any of the new people in the group to try and bullshit their way out of responsibility.  Over time, I became one of those who would challenge others when they tried the “she made me do it” line. 

No one except me was to be blamed because I threw something, smashed the lights on my car, beat  up a guy I thought was messing with my wife or any number of other things I did for one simple reason.  I would not control my anger.

I can see now with the value of hindsight that it must have been hell living with me.  Julie was a very kind and compassionate person.  My daughter Chris always seemed to be afraid of something.  I realize now that what she was afraid of was me.  Julie did the best she could to protect me from the excesses of my own anger.  Without her I know I would have ended up in jail. 

My daughter was sixteen when Julie and I separated.  She did not want anything to do with me for twenty years or more.  I would like to have more of a father daughter relationship.  I miss a relationship with her that I never had.  I also recognize why she would want to keep her distance.

It hurts but the forgiveness that I long for may never come.  It is the price that I pay for the anger and psychological abuse I caused both Chris and Julie.

I started off with “MY” story,  because I am sure you have heard all the statistics and the warnings about domestic violence.  I wanted to make this blog personal because domestic abuse and domestic violence are personal.  In my case, it was a function or outcome of my anger.  In many cases, domestic abuse stems from other sources like entitlement, power, jealousy or machismo. 

I was going to start this blog off with statistics showing the extent of domestic violence in our nation.  The people we say that we love most in the world are among the most abused and mistreated people in the country.   The amount of abuse is staggering. 

General domestic violence statistics

  • More than 1 in 3 women and 1 in 6 men in the United States have experienced physical violence, sexual violence involving contact, or stalking by an intimate partner during their lifetimes.  
  • An estimated 6.7 million women and 2.8 million men experienced those forms of intimate partner violence in the twelve months preceding the survey.  
  • Nearly 1 in 3 women and more than 1 in 5 men have experienced psychological aggression by an intimate partner, including humiliation, threats, or controlling behavior, during their lifetimes.  
  • About 18% of women and 9% of men have experienced severe physical violence by an intimate partner during their lifetimes, such as being beaten, kicked, or subjected to choking or suffocation attempts.  
  • The above data is from “The National Intimate Partner and Sexual Violence Survey 2023/2024” — Intimate Partner Violence Data Brief

https://www.cdc.gov/nisvs/media/pdfs/intimatepartnerviolence-brief.pdf

I cannot help but think that given the amount of domestic violence, many of us lack a scale of humane values and attitudes.  Too many of us say we want one thing, but our actions and attitudes get us the opposite.  I am not in a position to lecture anyone on anger management, but I wanted to create a scale of tolerance which I thought we might use in dealing with not only our loved ones but everyone else.  I started this idea ten years ago.  Over time, I realized that tolerance was only a stop on a journey to full love for others.  The love that Jesus said all people should have for others as well as strangers and people not like themselves.  Working with my AI Assistant I created the following scale. 

The vertical dimension indicates an increase in compassion, and merciful attitudes towards others.  Each level includes examples of how that attitude can be expressed.  This scale is meant to help you reflect on your actions.  It is not a validated measurement tool.  My belief is that attitudes without appropriate behaviors are meaningless.  Years ago, I would have said that I loved my wife and daughter.  My behaviors painted a different picture. 

“A Hierarchy of Humane Attitudes”

LoveAffection • Care • Commitment • Generosity
AdmirationAppreciation of character • Abilities • Contributions
RespectDignity • Rights • Boundaries • Fair treatment
ToleranceAcceptance of differences • Peaceful coexistence
IndifferenceIgnoring suffering • Neglect • Disengagement
DiscriminationExclusion • Unequal treatment • Denial of opportunities
CrueltyPsychological • Physical • Sexual • Combinations
Attitude ↑            Examples of its expression ↔

One essential qualification: respect and safety are obligations; admiration and affection cannot be demanded.  Someone experiencing abuse does not owe their abuser greater love or continued access to their life.

Conclusions: 

Where do you put yourself on this scale?  Can anyone who spends most of their time down in the cruelty and discrimination areas of this scale say they have a good relationship with others?  

The damage that we do to others in words and deeds cannot always be undone.  We can do our best to apologize and to ask for forgiveness, but the hurts we inflict on others may never be erased.  Healing and changed behavior may make a difference for you but forgiveness and reconciliation are never guaranteed.

Speaking for myself, the realization of what I was and how I behaved can never be forgotten.  Many have told me, you have to forgive yourself.  It might be possible, but it has not happened yet. 

If I have said anything in this blog that helps you to see that you may have an anger management problem or if you feel that you are a victim of abuse, I encourage you to call the following number. 

National Domestic Violence Hotline, 800-799-7233; text START to 88788

Finding Fame, Fortune and Success:  Paths to Misery or Happiness?

01 Oct 2026 13 Comments

by Dr. John Persico Jr. in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , ,

2

I have adapted an Osho (A noted Indian Mystic and Guru) story as follows:

Once upon a time there was a young boy named Vince who lived in Minnesota.  Every weekend when his chores around the farm were done, Vince would take his canoe out to one of Minnesota’s 10,000 lakes with his best friend and they would spend the afternoon fishing.  Somethings they would catch crappies, sometimes bluegills, sometimes even a walleye.  Sometimes they would not catch a single fish.  Striking out did not bother them one bit.  They were content just to be out on the lake together on a beautiful Minnesota summer day.

They would sit in the canoe casting their rods and talking about many things.  They would talk about school, parents, girls, and sports.  Often they would share their dreams and talk about what they wanted to be and do when they grew up.  One day Vince saw a large jet airliner going over head.  As he looked at the plane he said, “That’s what I want to be when I grow up.  I want to be an airline pilot and fly all over the world. That is my dream.”

Years passed and Vince followed his dream.  He became an airline pilot for what was then Northwest Airlines.  Later, like many other airlines they merged and became United Airlines.  Vince was a lead pilot for a jumbo passenger jet.  He flew numerous routes that took him all over the world.  He flew to China, Japan, England, France, and many other places.  He was one of the best pilots that Northwest had.

Twenty or so very busy years passed.  One day Vince had a flight that took him back to Minnesota.  He started from Paris, flew over the Great Lakes and was coming down from Northern Minnesota to the Minneapolis/St. Paul Airport.  As his plane began the descent into the airport, he looked out the left side of the plane and noticed two young boys in a canoe fishing on a lake.  The scene brought back many happy memories to Vince and his eyes started to mist up.  He asked his co-pilot to take control for a minute while he cleared his eyes.  His co-pilot asked Vince if there was anything wrong.  Vince replied, “No, nothing wrong.  Just saw something that reminded me of my past.  One day I dreamed that I would be a pilot.  Now I dream that I am back on that lake with my best friend again.”

There is an old saying that goes “Be careful of what you ask for, you might get it.”  Of course, no one pays any attention to this bit of wisdom.  Imagine all the people who buy lottery tickets each day.   Now try to imagine any of them saying, “I better be careful, or I might win the lottery.”  We all want fame, fortune, and success.  We set goals that force us to live in the future and we forget how to live in the present.  Osho says that we can never be happy unless we can be happy for no reason at all.

Michigan-lottery-fame-and-fortune-sign

Some of you have read the story about my six friends and I who put together a “last man standing bottle” fifteen years ago.  Ken made a case for the bottle.  Jerry bought a name plate for the bottle with each of our names and birthdates engraved on it.  I bought a bottle of 120 proof Old Grandad while on one of my trips to Bardstown, Kentucky.   Ken, Jerry, Dick and Brian have since died.  There are three of us left.   Tony, Tom and myself.  All now living in different parts of the USA.  

Jerry was put on hospice care ten years ago.  I had been to visit him several times and he always joked about going to hospice care too soon.  Doctors had told him that he had only a few months to live.  Jerry outlived their original estimates.  One Friday afternoon, I received a call from Dick who had recently called Jerry.  Jerry was not doing well, and the charge nurse told Dick that Jerry would probably not make it through the weekend.  I have been wanting to stay away from any medical facilities due to the recent Covid surge, but I decided to mask up and go see Jerry.

I arrived at the clinic.  I was told I could make a compassion visit, but general visitors were not allowed.  I was advised to go to the main desk and see if it was okay with the unit for me to come down.  I received an approval and headed down to Jerry’s room.  The nurse on the unit met me at the door.  She knocked on the door to Jerry’s room but did not receive any response.  She went into the room and Jerry was asleep.  She woke him up and informed him that he had a visitor.

I walked into the room and Jerry was not looking very good.  He could barely open his eyes or even move.  His body was bloated, and his skin had dark splotches all over his chest, stomach, arms, and legs.  I said hi and he replied, “Hi John.”  I told him that the coffee guys (some of whom are on the “Last Man Standing” bottle) all said hi and that they all wished him well.  This was somewhat of a fib.  Truth be told, Jerry was not well liked among some of the guys.  He seemed to enjoy making fun of and humiliating other people.  Over the years, this took a toll among the men.  Not many of them cared enough about Jerry to make a visit to see him.

Jerry had few friends.  I tried to be a friend to Jerry, but it never seemed to be requited.  I called him.  Visited him often at his home.  Helped him with a garage sale.  Took him to some medical appointments in the Twin Cities.  Invited him out to dinner several times and every year when I got back from Arizona, Karen and I made a point of having him over for dinner.  Not once did I ever remember Jerry returning any of my calls, stopping by to visit or even saying “Thank You” for anything we ever did for him.  Nevertheless, while I stopped the frequency of my visits with Jerry, I never gave up on him entirely.  Perhaps paradoxically, I liked him.  

This day, it was clear that it would be my last visit to Jerry.  I felt sad for Jerry.  He never had much.  The paradox was that he was one of the most intelligent men I have ever met.  Before his illnesses, Jerry was an avid reader who could discuss many of the great writers with exceptional insights.  As his disease progressed, he read less and less and eventually gave up reading entirely.

I asked Jerry a few questions about his sister and other visitors.  Something I said elicited the reply, “Now and forever, mumble, mumble, mumble.”  “Jerry, I could not hear the last part of that.  You said, ‘Now and forever’ and something else.  Could you repeat it?”  Jerry replied, “Now and forever, all I ever wanted was a little attention.” 

I was somewhat surprised at his comment.  I left a short time later.  I doubt I spent more than 15 minutes with Jerry the whole time.  I gave him some water and asked if he needed a nurse.  He was barely awake, but he declined any offers for help.  I told him goodbye.  I did not want to imply that it would be goodbye forever so I included the comment that I would be back after I returned from my vacation, and I would stop in to see him again.  I do not think this will ever happen.

I thought about Jerry’s comment on my way home.  Was his comment about “now and forever” some sort of delirium or was he actually reflecting on a core component of his life?  Was Jerry’s obnoxiousness and insults simply a way for him to get attention?  At this late stage in his life, was he lamenting his inability to get the attention that he so desperately desired?

fame-and-fortune-CRCHRF

I began to wonder if a need for attention is the primary reason that most of us want fame, fortune, and success.  Rich people, famous people, celebrities all get more attention than the average person.  Think about all of the school shooters that you have heard of.  It seems that the main purpose for their rampages is attention.  There are many people who fiercely desire their five minutes of fame even if it means they get it by anti-social efforts.

il_570xN.2715100803_i82v

The irony is that fame, fortune, and success never bring happiness.  The more of these things you get, the more you want.  More is never enough.  More of things never satisfies.  Then the day inevitably comes when you are no longer famous.  Your money no longer buys you attention.  Your success is no longer newsworthy.  Your fame now evaporates like the morning mist.  Can you point to anyone whose fame and fortune brought them happiness?  We are brainwashed into thinking that wealth, fame, and success are stepping stones to happiness.  If only I am noticed and get attention from others, I will be happy.

To be honest, I am much like the person who buys the lottery ticket.  I have never had fame, fortune, or great success.  I have never been a great student, a prize-winning athlete, a rich business owner or won any medals or awards. 

Years ago, I read all the books I could get my hands on to teach me how to be rich, famous, and successful.  Despite all my learning and education, I never rose above being an average guy with an average income and an average life.

Perhaps, I should be more grateful.  I have been very lucky. I have had a great life.  I have traveled widely.  I have many friends.  I married a wonderful woman and I have always been able to pay my bills.  What would my life have been like if I had become rich and famous?  My thoughts tell me that I would never have lived as happy a life as I can now point to.

lottery

However, telling myself that is a little like someone telling me that I should be glad that my lottery ticket did not win.  Somewhere inside me is a yearning for the attention and admiration that I feel fame and fortune would bring me.  Something inside me desires to someday be “above” average.  I want to be on center stage and have all the spotlights on me.  I want to read in the morning papers, how great and talented I am.  John “The New Mark Twain.”

fame_fortune__87941.1601489890.500.500

I try to counter the above negative thoughts by reminding myself that I am really blessed.  I can walk down the street, and no one notices me.  I have enough money to be comfortable but not have to deal with hundreds of people who want more money from me because they think that I am rich.  I have a loving wife who loves me for who I am and not for my money or looks.  I have seen the world without a body guard.  I am healthy and would not trade my health for all the money in the world.

My takeaway from my visit to Jerry was how much I wish that I could have left him with the five minutes of attention that he wanted.  The saddest part about Jerry’s life is that he could never let go of this need.  He acted as though by being cantankerous and il-tempered he would satisfy this need.  I think it cost him a great deal of the happiness that was always there for his taking. 

We all respected his intellect and admired his reasoning abilities.  Each of us in our own way tried to overlook his insults and criticism.  It is tragic that he never realized how much his talents really meant to the rest of us.  We all knew that Jerry was one of a kind.

PS:  

Jerry died early in the morning on the 13th of September in the year 2021.  If there is an afterlife, I hope Jerry finds the happiness, attention and recognition that he sought.  This is one of mine and Jerry’s favorite pictures.  Jerry had a great sense of humor.  He and Wilma posed for this picture at his garage sale a number of years ago.  It is of course a take off on the classic American Gothic.  Jerry liked it so much, he blew it up and kept a picture by his bedside.  This is how I want to remember Jerry.  A man of intelligence and humor.  

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