Philosophy over Gin.

I had signed up for the seminar in advance. It was about bone marrow transplants and what it took to be a donor. I thought it was the noble thing to do. I should put myself on the registry to try to give back what someone had provided for my family. They told people it was uncommon to be selected to be a donor. They said it was a lot like winning the lottery. I decided it would be almost as exciting as winning the lottery.

The seminar was a waste of time. It was medical lingo that danced above everyone's head. People had a lot of questions for the doctor presenting. I didn't. I already knew the answers. I felt I could have answered them better than the doctor. I had to take a little break from the statistics and the side-effects and such and retreated into the hall. Nobody from my family asked questions or shot questing looks. They all knew. I didn't need to hear the statistics on survival for transplant patients. It was too fresh to me.

I let them draw my blood, take my information, and headed home. Duncan had been at my house when I left. I knew he would still be there. During this time Andrew had to have someone with him 24 hours a day. Since all the family had signed up for the seminar, Duncan came over.

I came home to Duncan leaned up against our bed writing furiously in his notebook. Andrew was passed out on the bed. It was only 8:30 p.m. Apparently he had fallen asleep during the movie they were watching. I had a suspicion that Andrew would fall asleep before I got home. His energy level was still suffering. It was not uncommon for him to be in bed and asleep by about 8:00 p.m. I stopped at the liquor store on my way home and picked up some Gin. Gin was our summertime drink. It was definitely a Gin night. I stopped by the gas station and picked up some mixers. I was hoping I could talk Duncan in to staying and hanging out with me for awhile. He hesitated at first, but then agreed. I poured us a couple drinks, and we sat out on the back porch watching the rain and talking.

The subjects ranged over the three or four refills we poured. I told him that I had been motivated to write lately. I wanted to relearn how to play the guitar and the piano and get myself a piano. I was hoping that I could get to the point of writing music. Megan had been wanting to get together and make music. Duncan was incredibly supportive. He was interested in helping. The three of us had talked about making music since high school. Mostly, it was talk. Only Duncan had actually followed through.

We talked about writing in general. We talked about the styles that people pick up. The main subject came to be about each person's life as a story. We wondered if we would be able to get someone to pick up our story and read it.

We talked about religion and the bible and radical leaders and "god". I told him that I thought of the bible as a book of fables. I didn't mean it as a degradation of what so many people revel as a holy text. I simply said that I see it as a book of stories that are meant to teach morals and values-- like a fable. I shared that I didn't think there was anything that made the bible more sacred or legitimate than other holy texts, such as the Quran. I told him that I think that they should all be taken collectively and deciphered and interpreted. After all, the bible wasn't written first hand. The writings came second or third hand as stories were passed down, and then eventually written down. Perhaps the gin was beginning to do it's wonders. I told him that if definitely sounded more like a case of fables to me than doctrine. Native Americans and many cultures taught right from wrong with stories. The conversation not surprisingly turned to religion and the idea behind "God."

We refilled our glasses and resumed our position on the back porch. We began talking about texts in general and about accepting things with an open mind and about going against popular culture. We talked about norms and thinking for oneself; not just accepting something as truth because it is the "norm."

Duncan reminded me that he thought I had been the first person to think that way back in high school because I had said that I wanted to read Mein Kampf just for the sake of reading it. I wanted to see for myself what it was all about. I didn't want to hear about it from a History teacher. I wanted to hear it from "the mouth of the pig" so to say. He said it made him think about getting all the perspectives, then deciding for oneself. I had forgotten about all that in high school.

I have not read Mein Kampf.

I have not read the entire Bible.

I have not read the Quran.

(I am behind.)