The Birth and Growth of an Ego. (Red Baron)

...Recently I was accused of having an ego. Usually that term is meant pejoratively, but to defend yourself by saying, "I do not have one" is too weak a response to change anybody's mind about you. So, I'll admit it; I do have an ego. It's a large one because it took many years to develop. We'll start way back when I went to elementary school in New Jersey; I was bullied there because I had bright red hair and a half million freckles. The kids made fun of me. No ego there, I can tell you that. Then when it was discovered that my father was a triple amputee and only had a right arm, the fun made about me escalated; I couldn't understand what was so funny about having a crippled father.

...After my father died; he was 33--Mother, sister, and I moved in with my mother's parents in the Bronx. I went into the sixth grade then and I still had the red hair and freckles. In addition to my acquired childhood mortifications, I had to wear a white shirt and a red tie to school every day. I hated to wear anything red; especially a tie. No ego yet. Not even close. When I entered Junior High School, I used to run home every day because I was Jewish, and if I got caught, the Catholic kids would take off my pants and hang it up on a lamp post! I ran too fast to get caught--but I did have clean underwear. How and when would the ego come along? An ego means that you like yourself a lot; a whole lot. I didn't; I disliked myself. But when I entered high school, I decided to draw attention to me by being the class comedian. For example, in Miss Garmier's French class one day she asked the class to use the word "fromage"--meaning cheese--in a sentence. Well, I drew lots of guffaws and laughter when I answered, "Mon Mere made me une peu fromage blintzes." Needless to say Miss Garmier did not appreciate my answer. Nevertheless, I was no longer invisible in high school. I was funny in most classes, and a small ego was in a the embryo stage. I had a wry sense of humor which up to then I wasn't aware of it myself. It just emerged like a bird from its nest.

...Let's jump ahead to graduation. I had a 98 in English class, the highest mark; and then I joined the Navy probably because we were at war. After boot camp, I was assigned to Aerial Gunnery school, and while there, I became an expert marksman at skeet shooting--even though I was in agony because of shoulder pain caused by the recoil of the gun. My ego was becoming recognizable, but no one as yet accused me of having one. I began to feel comfortable about myself; it was a good feeling--finally. I'll skip all the details of my experiences in that catastrophic war, but let's say that when I was awarded eleven air medals and two DFC's--Distinguished Flying Crosses, my ego began to blossom like a cornfield in Kansas. The DFC is the fourth highest medal for combat that you can attain in the service. Lindbergh was the first to get it, although he was never in combat. I flew in many combat missions, and only was shot down once, primarily because I usually did the shooting. I was able to save myself and a buddy with the help of the English Navy. The ego sprouted wings--like Phoenix.

...We'll skip the details about how I was able to get into Columbia University, but eventually I was granted a Ph.D there in Education. My ego was growing exponentially! By that time I felt I had an absolute right to an ego--I couldn't help it. I had clawed my way out of the concrete jungle. While in college I had taken several acting and voice classes at a private school in the city. I finally got on the stage playing the lead in "40 Carats." Then I played a juicy role that Menasha Skolnick had made famous in "The Fifth Season". When I retired, my ego expanded to the point where I had no control over it. It was a runaway ego. It wasn't my fault,

...I had always loved the music of Gilbert and Sullivan and when I retired and learned that Bob Slobin, a talented resident, was going to produce "HMS Pinafore" my heart skipped a beat. I wanted to play the role that Martin Green played in that show, Sir Joseph Porter. Martin Green was a permanent cast member of the English G&S company. Bob selected me for that part in our Theatre of the Performing Arts. But that wasn't the end of it. I played Koko in "The Mikado"; Major General Stanley in "Pirates of Penzance"; Tevye in "Fiddler"; Captain Andy in "Show Boat"; Harold Hill in "Music Man" (They couldn't find anyone else who could memorize "Trouble in River City.) Then I directed and played Henry Higgins in "My Fair Lady". I also sang parodies in two or three "in-house" shows.

...After all these leading roles for which I had auditioned, my ego was stretched to the limit; there was nowhere else for it to go. By any measurement my musical career was a success. Even after I wrote and published a book of my Memoirs, four books of poetry and three books of blogs, my ego could grow no longer--it was like a large balloon ready to burst, but could not.

...When my friend, accused me of having an big ego because of some imagined slight he thought I gave him, I couldn't have agreed more. But it's too late for me to do anything about it. I've accomplished too many things in my life--(which is the idea of anyone's life, I believe) and the Ego is etched in my soul. Deal with it.