Friday, April 20, 2012

The Mobster and the Congressman: A Tale of Two Brothers


You know how parents often refer to the growth of their children as being in kinship with that of a weed?  It seems to me that too much emphasis has been placed on the speed with which the weed grows.  That isn’t really the important part.  The truth in this analogy lies in the fact that no matter what you do, or how hard you try, you can’t stop the weed from growing.  Sure they grow up fast, but there are plenty of examples of varying types of flora that grow with incredible speed.  What makes the weed special is that it can’t be stopped.  It is this quality that makes a good gardener cringe and an even better parent lament the loss of their babies to adulthood.  In watching my own two children grow, I am reminded of the importance of capturing their essence with every milestone reached and every birthday passed.  Watching them argue, as they often do these days, I couldn’t help but notice the remarkable difference in style. 

My eldest is the consummate statesman, a rule maker who will filibuster the rules of any game right into the ground.  By the time he is finished explaining the rules, I am too tired to compete.  Rather than stifle his creativity with a round of heavy eye rolling and impatient sighs I have decided it is best to just pull up a comfortable chair and hope we will get to the point before I start drawing a pension.  These rules are meant to be a road map by which you chart your course.  They are generally open to debate and addendum.  In fact, he rather enjoys a good rider or two to be added to his legislation.  That way, nobody really knows what the fuck is truly going on.  In turn, he is equally willing to follow a set of rules set out by a third party.  He likes to have his say, but will generally coalesce.

The youngest has a different approach entirely.  He too has an affection for a certain set of rules, however, unlike my Congressman these rules are meant to control rather than to guide.  The boss of an organized crime ring is bound by a code, a set of rules put in place by his own design to keep the outfit under his control.  Any deviation from these rules will lead to a pair of concrete goulashes.  There isn’t room for interpretation or a debate on the Senate floor.  The rules are the rules and EVERYONE must abide.  Whether there is an appreciation for rules outside the “family” is a matter of simple convenience.  Sometimes it is easier to play by certain rules to keep the cops off your back.  Still others seem made to be broken.   In this way, life remains sort of a buffet.  He can take it or leave it and the decision remains exclusively his own.  Once he has chosen a good Lasagna, everybody . . .  and I mean EVERYBODY . . . will be eating Lasagna.

I know that this too will change in a matter of weeks, perhaps even days.  For now I am pleased to sit back and watch their personalities diverge even though most days it feels like watching The Untouchables.  Ness:  abiding by the laws of the land; and Capone:  doing his best to silence the snitch.  The only thing I know for certain is that BOTH are trying to steal my money.  Until next time.  R.

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