What do Genghis Khan and Picasso have in common? They are creatures of my weakness. They are my witnesses in moments of dread and doubt. Whenever I feel that my heart is shrinking in view of petty adversity, I invoke the names of these two gentlemen by asking a rhetorical question: “Would Genghis Khan or Picasso feel this way in a similar situation?” As soon as I consider my condition in this light, my chest swells to capacity once again and I regain my customary equanimity. And the efficacy of this simple device never ceases to amaze me.

Addendum I (April 7, 1998)

These two fellows surfaced again a few months ago, while Lauren was pestering me to go to a marriage counselor with her. I resisted as long as I could, trying to explain to her that I could not imagine being counseled by anyone, except perhaps the likes of Genghis Khan or Picasso—that is, people I deeply respected. She was not amused. In the end I had to give up because she was threatening with divorce in the case I refused to cooperate.

Addendum II (May 8, 2013)

Amazingly, Genghis Khan and Picasso are still my witnesses in moments of dread and doubt. I have learned much more about both of them over the years, but this has only strengthened their place in my mind. Interestingly, no-one has joined them in the meanwhile. Attila and Jalaluddin Rumi have perhaps been the only candidates for such a lofty position, but only just. Genghis Khan and Picasso are perfectly enough for my purposes, anyhow. As for the marriage counselors my ex-wife managed to find, they fared pretty poorly with me. Chances are that they still remember me as the toughest nut to crack in their careers. In retrospect, I should have settled for divorce way before counseling.