Chapter 21 11th Tuesday Don't Be Fooled by Culture

Try harder. I pat Murray on the back. use force. I took another shot. Go lower by the shoulders now. Murray was wearing pajamas, lying on his side on the bed, his head resting on a pillow, and his mouth was open.The physical therapist is teaching me how to slap the toxins out of his lungs, which he has to do now regularly to prevent the phlegm from clogging his airways and making him unable to breathe. Murray said weakly: I always knew you always wanted to hit me While beating his back, I jokingly said, yes, this shot is revenge for my sophomore year when you only gave me 80 points, shoot!We all laughed, but the laughter was a little forced, because the evil spirit was so close.Our scene should have been pretty sweet, but we knew it was the last calisthenics before we die.Murray's illness has gradually approached his lungs, the last line of defense.He predicted that he would die of suffocation, and I can think of no more terrible way to die.Sometimes he would close his eyes and inhale air through his mouth and nose at the same time, with a laborious appearance, as if he was lifting weights.

It was early October at this time, and the temperature outside was already requiring a coat, and there were piles of fallen leaves on the lawns of various homes in West Newton.Murray's physical therapist arrived earlier, and I used to step aside when the nurses or therapists were trying to treat him, but as the weeks went by and the time we spent together, I didn't appreciate the procedures he had to undergo. Feel embarrassed again.I want to be there, I want to see it all.This wasn't quite the usual me, but neither was what had happened to the Murray family these past few months.

So I watched the therapist work on Murray as he lay in bed, pounding his back and asking him if he felt any relief in his chest.When she was resting, she asked me if I wanted to try it, and I said yes, with a slight smile on Murray's side pillowed face. Don't push too hard, he said: I'm an old man. I followed her instructions and beat his back and chest in turn.I don't like to see Murray sick in bed (I remembered what he said last time if you lie in bed, you are dead), and he is lying on his side, looking so thin and small, more like a child's body, rather than grown-ups.I looked at his pale complexion, a few strands of gray hair hanging down, and his arms limp and paralyzed.I think about how much time we spend in the gym, lifting weights, doing sit-ups, etc., but at the end of the day, we are mortal stinkers.My fingers felt the loose flesh on Murray's bony bones, and I continued to beat hard as instructed.Seriously, when I punched his back, I felt the urge to punch the wall.

Murray said suddenly: Mickey?His voice was broken by my pounding. uh-huh? When will I only give you eighty points? Murray believes that people are inherently good, but he also sees that they can change. People are ugly only when they are threatened, he said later in the day: It's our culture.In our economic system, even those who have jobs feel threatened because they are in constant fear of losing their jobs.If you feel threatened, you will only look out for yourself first.You start worshiping money like a god.It's all because of this culture. He exhales.That's why I don't buy this set.

I nodded and squeezed his hand.We now hold hands from time to time, which is another change for me.Some of the things that used to make me feel awkward or uncomfortable are now normal.On the floor beneath my feet, next to his recliner, is a catheterized urine bag, filled with a cloudy yellow-green fluid.A few months ago, I would have been disgusted, but now it doesn't matter, and the smell in the room after he got fucked, it doesn't matter.He had long since lost the luxury of freedom of movement, the ability to close the door to the toilet and sprinkle some air freshener when he was done.The bed was there, the recliner was here, that was all he had left in the world.If my world had become this small, the smell I would leave behind would not be better than this.

When I say create your own subculture, Murray says, it doesn't mean you ignore the rules around you.For example, I don't run around naked.I will not run a red light.I can abide by these small things, but you have to choose what we think about big things and what we value.You can't let anyone, or any society, decide these things for you. In my case it was fine.People think that the things I should be ashamed of right now are not being able to walk, not being able to wipe my own butt, and waking up some mornings just wanting to cry. There is nothing inherently shameful or embarrassing about these things.

The same goes for women not being thin enough, or men not being rich enough.Our culture wants you to think so, but don't be fooled. I asked Murray why he hadn't emigrated when he was young. where to go I have no idea.South America, New Guinea, anywhere less self-centered than America. Every society has its own problems, and Murray raised his eyebrows, which was tantamount to shrugging his shoulders.Running away is not the solution, you have to work hard to create your own culture. Listen, no matter where you live, our human weakness is shortsightedness.We don't look at our long-term future.We should focus on our potential and strive to achieve all goals.But if everyone around you says: I want my share now, in the end the few will take everything, and the army will be used to suppress the poor who have nothing.

Murray looked at a window some distance behind me.Sometimes you can hear a truck passing by, or a gust of wind.He stared at the neighbor's house for a moment, then resumed the conversation. The problem, Mitch, is that we don't believe in our similarities.White and black, Catholic and Protestant, man and woman.If we look more at what we have in common with each other, we will more agree with the idea that the world is one family, and value this big family as much as our own home. Believe me, you'll know it's true before you die.Our beginnings are all born; our ends are all alike dead.So how different are we?

Invest in the human family, invest in people.Build a small community of people you love and who love you. He shook my hand lightly, and I shook it back hard.It's like the Tongtian hammer game in the temple fair market. When you hammer down, a discus will fly up the pole. I can almost see the warmth of my palm rushing up his chest and neck, reaching his cheek and orbital.He smiled. At the beginning of life, we are babies and we depend on other people to survive, right?At the end of your life, if you become like me, you need other people to survive, right? His voice is almost inaudible: But there's a secret: Between the beginning and the end, we need others, too.

Connie and I sat in our bedroom later in the afternoon, watching the Simpson verdict on television.The scene was tense, with the protagonists on both sides of the case staring intently at the jury box.Simpson, in his dark blue suit, sat next to his legal team and not far away sat prosecutors bent on sending him to jail.When the jury representative read out the not guilty verdict, Connie screamed: Oh my God! We watched as Simpson hugged his lawyer and listened as the TV announcer scrambled to explain the implications of the ruling.We saw crowds of black people cheering in the streets outside the courthouse, and crowds of white people sitting transfixed in restaurants.Commentators said the ruling was landmark, even though murders are commonplace every day.Connie left the room and went into the living room. She had had enough.

I heard the sound of Murray's door closing, but I was still looking at the TV.I said to myself, people all over the world are watching this stuff.Then I heard a rustle from another room, the sound of someone lifting Murray from the couch, and I couldn't help smiling.As the so-called trial of the century played out at its dramatic climax, my old professor sat on the toilet and saluted. ◇◇◇ In 1979, a basketball game was in progress at the Brandeis Collegiate Stadium.Our school team played well, and the student cheerleaders began to shout rhythmically: We are number one!We are number one!Murray was sitting on the side, he seemed quite puzzled by the sound of cheering, while the students were still shouting that we were number one!In the middle, he stood up and shouted: What's wrong with being second? The students looked at him in surprise and stopped cheering.He sat down, smiling and looking very pleased with himself.