
You see, madam, I'm going through some convulsions about the way I think about the
generalissimo dude.
I had generally negative vibes about him from way back when, until just last week, when someone here found a link to photographs of the
generalissimo dude.
Up until that time, all I'd ever seen of the
generalissimo dude was a shot of one of his elbows, and from that, extrapolated the rest of him.
But then when I saw those photographs of the
generalissimo dude shoveling snow, I gasped in dismay.
This gent is old and frail and feeble and fragile.
I always knew he was 65 years old, but kept seeing this "picture" of him as a sour dour thinning-haired pot-bellied guy around that age, some belligerency and strength still in him.
It never occurred to me that the
generalissimo dude was so.....frail.
I felt an enormous surge of pity.
I have a problem when envisioning ageing people, because naturally I use my parents and older brothers and sisters as exemplars. The
generalissimo dude and an older brother of mine were both born the same month in 1946, and about a hundred miles apart, the brother in New York City and the
generalissimo dude in Bridgeport, Connecticut.
There must've been something about the water in both cities, as both the older brother and the
generalissimo dude adopted the same attitudes about life, the same politics of self-serving short-term selfish self-interest. Like the
generalissimo dude, this brother was a diehard radical extreme left Democrat; they probably would've gotten along well if they'd known each other in real life, other than my brother's distaste for organized crime and somewhat generally positive attitude about God.
But the brother died in 1986, when both he and the
generalissimo dude were 40 years old, and of course I remember him well at that age. By sloppy--but eminently natural--thinking, whenever I hear about someone born in 1946, I
still see them as similar with my brother at 40 years.....even though it's been a very long time now.
When I saw the photograph of the
generalissimo dude shoveling the snow, I thought, "My God, this can't be.....this cannot
possibly be something similar with what my brother would look like today."