I’m reminded of a conversation between my brother and me, when we were small boys.

I was the younger. I had just told him that my friend Joey had a wild mountain gorilla the size of a house.

My brother wanted to know if I had seen it. I hadn’t.

Where is it kept? he asked. He lives with Joey, I said.

My brother was my brother asked incredulous. The gorilla lives with Joey and his family?

Well, maybe he’s not quite as big as a house, I said.

But a wild gorilla? my brother asked.

Probably not too wild, I said.

You’re sure it’s a gorilla? he asked. Well, it could be a large monkey, I replied.

But Joey wouldn’t lie.

Monkeys are stinky, my brother added. Maybe they keep him outside, I said.

Where, on the fire escape? my brother sharply questioned.

Maybe on the roof, I said.

There are pigeons on the roof, he answered.

That was true, New York tenements in my neighborhood had flocks of pigeons on the roofs.

Maybe his grandma keeps it at her house, I speculated.

Do you know if he has a grandma? asked my brother. I didn’t.

So maybe there is no gorilla, he concluded. I had to agree.

Little did we realize then that I had already developed three traits or qualities which would qualify me to be a president in the 21st century: credulity, premature judgment and revisionism.

Raphael O’Suna
Ha’ikū