by James T. Murphy
As it happened last week, on a warm and sunny day somewhere between heaven and earth the brain and the heart, the oldest and closest of friends, found themselves on a park bench with time on their hands. Now you can tell they are good friends because every now and then they argue as though the other had lost all common sense. Nevertheless the two could never disagree with any degree of vehemence so as to cause a breakup of the relationship, for these two not only appreciate the worth of each other, but indeed one cannot live without the other, and of course this is perfectly clear to each of them. Sometimes. So on this bright, sun-filled day, with rays of golden sunshine beaming through a canopy of oak leaves, the tranquility of the moment supplied the stage for the vignette that was about to occur.
Heart asked his fellow bench warmer Brain, not that either one of them are second stringers, of its impresssions surrounding the recent commotion having to do with a one Dr. Seuss. Brain, whose friends all called him Neuro, quickly pointed out that subject of the moment was not a doctor at all but rather an Ad Man, not in the mold of Dan Draper, but rather, and formerly known to the world as Theodore Seuss Geisel, a print artisan who composed charming and engaging sales pitches aimed at adults and on behalf of for instance former corporate giant Standard Oil and Schaffer Beer. Being a brain, Neuro of course knew all this. He also informed the heart, aka Myo, who on any given day can invoke love, courage, compassion and any number of other characteristics, all positive and welcoming, and depending uppn the attention she gains from her host, that many of the characters now being cancelled first appeared in support of petro and beer, essentials in any age. But it was precisely this fact that confused Myo.
If the early characters were fit for commerce, what happened over the years to cast at least some of them into the social waste bin, admittedly a pitching enterprise not attractive to all, but certainly one which seems, in the current climate, to be taking more comers, all be they sent there by the self-appointed, those who would elevate a certain one-mindedness to an art form. Nor was Myo willing to relegate the good Doctor to the scrap heap. Being in tune with all things charitable she was quick to point out that regardless of present day inclinations in some quarters to undo the past, some of the highly educated and successful ones among us extol Mr. G., as did President Obama in ’15 when he advised, “pretty much all the stuff you need to know is in Dr. Seuss. It’s like the Star Belly Sneetches...We’re all the same, so why would we treat somebody differently just because they don’t have a star on their belly?” So Myo inquired, if one as brainy as 44 can sing the praises of this purveyor of Kiddy Lit wisdom, why can’t we all appreciate the intelligence of the messages Ad Man was selling?
And Neuro, with an urgency that could not be denied, countered that we should not allow our children to be exposed to any manner of thinking that is less than all-inclusive, or to engage in social commerce, and this is Neuro at his singular best that day, that even for only a paragraph or two, as measured by the Thought Police, can ever appear to consider one of us better than another, or exclude from the conversation the Sneetch without a star. When reminded by Heart that that is specifically the message, Brain hesitated, but then recovered to explain that the message had been contaminated by other text, and therefore amends must be made. To whom he did not say. To Myo this hullabaloo seemed as an exercise designed to a bigger purpose, one that clearly would intend to tell you what is permissible in a communal society, and what is not, with a present day emphasis on the not. Heart of course cannot identify with this type of forced thought as she always prefers to feel her own way to the truth.
Alas, the two remain companions and will no doubt work out their differences on the subject. In the meantime, confronted with the same issue, if your mother asked where you stand, what would you do?