A few years ago, I heard a charming yet tragic story. It fails to come to me who told it or where I heard it, but, nevertheless, I shall have no rest until I have preserved the legend.
The tragedy begins in some neighborhood in Detroit where a man in his fifty-third year lived. His first name was Donald, but those close to him knew him as Donnie. He had inherited a large, old mansion as well as a large sum of money from his grandfather who had been a successful entrepreneur when business was booming in Detroit. He dwelt alone with the exception of the house cleaner and the various tenants that rented rooms in the west wing. A good portion of his month’s budget was spent at the health food store. Whatever money was left over he spent on designer suits and silk pajamas.
Although he had already earned his Ph.D., he spent every waking hour of the day with his nose in one of his great theological books or deeply studying historical documents like the Magna Charta, Common Sense, or the Declaration of Independence. All the inspirational notions of justice, equality, and freedom completely consumed his life. Such an excessive amount of reading caused his mind to become disillusioned and even slightly insane.
Before long, he made up his mind to become more than a voting citizen – he would begin campaigning for senator.