We’re at the national meeting circa 1983– AANS. This is as conservative a group as you’d ever wanna not meet up with. Very! Trust me! They’d vote republican as long as the candidate has a heartbeat and then maybe without the “beat” if they could. We’re newly minted neurosurgeons just out of residency – Henry and I. Neurosurgeons and their spouses showed up in elaborate costumes such as full regale colonial wear. What to do? We hadn’t a clue. This was nearly our first rodeo. Ah! Brilliant! Henry and I went to the nearest men’s room in the lobby. Voila! Arthur Day a conservative from Florida tried to stop us at the entrance. We were streakers. It’s legal. And! We had a ticket. Damn, if he didn’t mutter while he let us in. I never did cotton up to the powers that be in our national leadership. There are some liberals too. We span the spectrum. However, there is definitely a hard core of conservatives who speak for our organization. Not me. They don’t speak for me and I don’t have my opinion counted among them. We’re all just fine that way.
Peyton Manning and Bill Walton were the opening speakers at our meeting recently. I’m impressed. Someone knew someone who knew someone who could get them to come and talk to a bunch of neurosurgeons. Peyton was gracious and actually tried to weave in some stuff about neurosurgery and football. Bill was a loud infomercial for the spine company whose product was recently installed in his back. Nice guy, short on information.
And at the end – (there’s no picture) – Ben Carson was introduced via remote feed to let us know he was declaring for president. He’s a neurosurgeon. His announcement was an unmitigated disaster. He had his teleprompter too low so his speech made him look like he was sleeping. He had bilateral ptosis and looked pathologic. He rambled. He was disorganized. Hey, sorry, I hold someone who aspires to national office to a higher standard. Practice some more dude, you lost me when you couldn’t open your eyes.