Book title:”Being Insane Can Really Make Life Difficult”
It can really come as a shock to discover at a relatively late stage in life, like your early sixties, that you are actually insane.  Off your rocker.  Nuts.  Crackers and bonkers.  Missing a few salad forks from the drawer.  Around the bend.  A sack half-full of sand on the back of a flat-bed pick-up truck from Mississippi.  And finally, simply not good company on a crowded bus in downtown Newark, New Jersey.
Which is how I came to the realization that there are two things missing, in a major way, in our EuroCentric American culture.  The first is that there is nearly so much disinterest in adult mental illness that it almost criminal.  It is certainly UnJudeoChristian.  The second is that the very few books there are about motorcycling are either boring beyond belief or so limited in scope that they are really short, and usually boring beyond belief.
As Americans we ignore those things we wish not to see.  ”There are no homeless, hungry children in the United States.  I do not see homeless, hungry children because I do not want to see homeless hungry children.  So even if I have to step over or around them on my way into a fast-food joint, they aren’t there.”

Got it?  See how that works?  If Newt says it’s not there, it’s not there.

Everybody accepts that a lot of children have neurological issues and as a culture we need to address, or work charitably, to help those children.  If the children are homeless it means their parents are poor and if any American adult is poor it is because he/she is bad, shiftless, lazy and probably a dope addict.

So mentally ill or not…poor, don’t count, invisible.  Children of parents of accountable means who struggle with abnormalities need help.  And because Americans are so charitable, if you need only a little help, like a special tutor, we are johnny-on-the-spot.

If it isn’t apparent…obvious…I have a strong leaning towards sarcasm.  Humor that is dry to the point of seeming preserved like a Pharoah.  I can’t really help it after so many years of observation, the irony of human existence is unavoidable to me.

It’s an elephant.  It’s in the room. You’re standing in its shit.