The Hand That Feeds You
"You can see the stars and still not see the light." - Glen Frey

by Thomas Bolte, MD

May 26, 2011 NYC

When I was about 5 years-old, my parents took me to the Smithaven Mall. It was an exciting moment for me, as my mom explained it was a place filled with many types of stores where one could buy all kinds of things, all in one place. My mom could enchant you with the perks of a rock quarry in such a way where one would contemplate skipping even a weekend in Paris, to see some rocks. I really doesn't matter what we have or what we do in this world: It's all about who we get to share it with.

My Aunt Chris was visiting, and joined us for the adventure. Aunt Chris has always been one of my favorite people in the world.

We walked to the center of the mall, to a balcony on the second floor, overlooking a beautiful fountain which must've shot water 20 feet in the air. Aunt Chris gave me a coin and told me to make a wish, as I tossed it into the fountain. She did the same.

She turned to me and said "What did you wish for?" The confident, incorrigible reprobate in me responded "A million dollars. What did you wish for?" My aunt said she wished for her health. "That's stupid," I said, "Why would you wish for that? If you had a million dollars you could buy your health!" My aunt turned to me, placed her hand on my shoulder, looked me in the eyes in stern seriousness, and said "no, you can't. If you don't have your health, you don't have anything." As we walked away from the fountain to find my parents, I wondered why she was so dumb. I guess she wondered the same about me, that I was born that way, and one day would understand.

I thought about that private moment with my aunt for many years. I don't recall when my value systems finally aligned with hers, but I remember thinking about it for a while, before I finally heard what she was saying.

We are born stupid, or we learn to be that way. I heard my mom say that once to drunken handyman, on one of the days we worked on her houses. He asked us what we were doing, as we painted a house. My aunt later told me it was something her father would say from time to time: "Were you born stupid, or did you have to learn to be that way?" My think my visit the the mall was preceded by the former.