Without doubt I inherited twenty three chromosomes from each of my parents.Beyond that,knowing exactly what they passed along to me gets a bit dicey,because I don't really see much of them in me.But that could be just my imagination.
For instance,none of those genes should have selected for iconoclasm,but,here I am.and therein lies a big part of the problem in trying to figure out just what came from where.Because,not only are iconoclasts hard wired to wonder what the mailman looked like and if perhaps he went on to a career as a high ranking member of the New Democrats,or a writer with the "New Yorker",but,I know this is hard to believe,we tend to disassemble things.So,I tend to have a big list of traits,that I imagine myself to have and yet I find it hard to attribute any given one of them to either of my parents.You see,when you disassemble things,you sometimes have a lot of spare parts left over when you try to put it all back together.
My mother was religious and my father profane,at least most of the time.I can be,by turns either ,or even both at the same time.My father was sickly from an early age and my mother healthy and robust until taken by a car accident in her seventy second year.Me,I'm healthier than either of them,though sometimes afflicted by conditions that neither had.Where did the gout come from?Will I die relatively young of a stroke ,or will I live until nearly a hundred or perhaps beyond,like my mothers family?And why am I the darkest on in my family?How did two stiff necked conservatives produce a liberal like me?An iconoclast,just to make clear to you what I mean by the term,is someone who you might say is a professional Pin The Tail On The Donkey player.The donkey could be anything at all.The President of The United States,or The Mayor Of Toronto,or Pro Athletes or The Christian Right...it really matters not.Or even the supposed notion that what we are is all in the genes.For the iconoclast,the donkey population is much greater than it is for most people.
In all seriousness though,I can only see what I've inherited in ways so subtle,I wonder how I see them at all.A tiny movement around the corners of my mouth,or my eyes that came from my father,or a word,an inflection that was my mothers.To myself,they are very fleeting things,but sometimes I catch them.
For instance,none of those genes should have selected for iconoclasm,but,here I am.and therein lies a big part of the problem in trying to figure out just what came from where.Because,not only are iconoclasts hard wired to wonder what the mailman looked like and if perhaps he went on to a career as a high ranking member of the New Democrats,or a writer with the "New Yorker",but,I know this is hard to believe,we tend to disassemble things.So,I tend to have a big list of traits,that I imagine myself to have and yet I find it hard to attribute any given one of them to either of my parents.You see,when you disassemble things,you sometimes have a lot of spare parts left over when you try to put it all back together.
My mother was religious and my father profane,at least most of the time.I can be,by turns either ,or even both at the same time.My father was sickly from an early age and my mother healthy and robust until taken by a car accident in her seventy second year.Me,I'm healthier than either of them,though sometimes afflicted by conditions that neither had.Where did the gout come from?Will I die relatively young of a stroke ,or will I live until nearly a hundred or perhaps beyond,like my mothers family?And why am I the darkest on in my family?How did two stiff necked conservatives produce a liberal like me?An iconoclast,just to make clear to you what I mean by the term,is someone who you might say is a professional Pin The Tail On The Donkey player.The donkey could be anything at all.The President of The United States,or The Mayor Of Toronto,or Pro Athletes or The Christian Right...it really matters not.Or even the supposed notion that what we are is all in the genes.For the iconoclast,the donkey population is much greater than it is for most people.
In all seriousness though,I can only see what I've inherited in ways so subtle,I wonder how I see them at all.A tiny movement around the corners of my mouth,or my eyes that came from my father,or a word,an inflection that was my mothers.To myself,they are very fleeting things,but sometimes I catch them.
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