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As I have just read Marcus Aurelius, I am tending to see what would happen if I applied the same algorithm. It is true, he had famous ancestors and was himself a celebrity, while my ancestors were much more modest ones, and so am I. Yet, one can do a suitable motion of translation so that the logic of the method will not be affected.

He begins by saying “From my grandfather Verus I have learnt the good manners and self–control”. This Verus was consul and prefect of Rome. I had two grandparents, the both businessmen in a town in Romania. I learnt nothing from them, as they had died before my birth. As a matter of fact, if they had not died, I should not have born, because they were being so grim rivals that they did not accept the marriage of their children, even if these ones used to love each other with a passion greater than their parents’ stubbornness. But the inevitable occurred, the children got married, and I came into being. I was not their first experience. From a previous attempt, my elder sister resulted. I had to accept her as my parent’s first experiment before “the great achievement”. (It is true that God made the man first and afterwards the woman, but nobody demonstrated that this would have been the best solution, and . . . He was alone.) It was expected that, after a success like this, they did not try anymore.

I would be ungrateful to keep on the idea that I would not have learnt anything from my grandfathers. Indirectly, they have taught me very many things.

My maternal grandfather was a poor fellow, but clever and ambitious. He got married with my grandmother, a woman very timid and lonely, but descending from a family with deep roots and assuring her an important dowry. This dowry was the base of a prosperous business, which my grandfather built alone. He has taught me by this example what a resolute man can do in his life.

About the paternal grandfather I know very little. After he died, he was the cause of a dispute instigated by one of his daughters–in–law. He had inherited the profession of businessman— in his family from several generations — and for this reason considered to be “of a more noble race”. Sure is that all his children until my father, had followed some universities.

As I said, after both maternal and paternal grandfathers’ died, the children were free to marry, so my father – over ears in love with my mother —followed the shortest way possible: the school of officers. In this way, after two or three years – I do not know exactly — he became a professional in a field for which he used to have not the least vocation or attraction, but free to marry, what he just done.

After Marcus Aurelius’ algorithm, I am to say now what I have learnt from my father. Well, he died when I was four so wasn’t much to learn from him in a direct way, but I learned indirectly that in life you must assume the events of the epoch in which you live, even if they did not depend on yourself, and to go with dignity through them. He died in the war, in a heroic gesture, though — as I already said — he did not have any passion for the military career. He has left to me as legacy the title of “Knight of Michael the Brave Order” the highest military award of Romania of that time. I may rejoice now of it, if I would not be too old, but it was a blemish in my biography during the communist years, as he fought against the former USSR.

As for my mother, in face of her self–abnegation, resistance and love for the family, I feel myself overwhelmed. I will never cease to admire her, and I am conscious that I would never have been able of her performances. I feel myself so insignificant that I do not dare to speak much on this topic. Still, some things must be mentioned. She remained widow with two children of eight and four in the time of the war. Three years later, when the front came close to us, in 1944, we had to leave our house and take refuge in the other end of the country, in Oltenia. All officers’ families had to do it. All things were loaded in several railway–trucks, and we the children together we our grandmother left first. She remained a day more to supervise the loading the other trucks, and came up with us just at the destination, after several hours of waiting for us. As for the other trucks, her efforts were mostly vainly, as only few of them arrived at destination. In the mess and agitation of that time she was content for our regrouping. After refuge, we came back at home, where the ordeal of communist epoch began for a stigmatized family, too shy, inexperienced and unable for squeezing through the welter of society.

But, let us start with the beginning. Like most famous people, after they are born, I yelled, ate and wet myself. Later on, we went on different ways. Some of us have studied philosophy; others devoted themselves to mathematics, medicine, physics, and even political sciences. One can never know what crosses people’s mind. I am sure that I studied something but I do not remember exactly what was it. Sometimes I forget the uninteresting things. Still I remember that, when someone was asking me what I would want to be as an adult, I answered: cab man. That was so, because I liked the smell of horses, or their harness, when my parents took me with them shopping. Before I could fulfill my dream, the number of cars increased, so for the beginning I followed a technical university. Bad luck! In this way, I awaken philosopher among the engineers and painter among the philosophers. Yet I have attenuating circumstances: in these years, in Romania, engineering used to be non political and a well–paid profession, so that any clever child went this way.

The leaning toward engineering was evident since I was a child in the precision of my language. For example, when my sponsor asked me "what is going on with your belly", just when I had a stomachache I answered: "Belly is good, rump is bad". Still, engineering was a good school, as it molded my thought, giving to it clearness and meticulousness.

Generally, most children cry. I laughed! I was told that, whenever someone entered my room, I would laugh. I would point a finger at them and just laugh. If the person was unknown to me, the more resounding was the laughter. Thus, fewer and fewer people would enter my abode. It was said that I was a nice child. I do not believe it. The most outrageous fibs that I ever heard were about children "the little one looks like his mother or his grandmother, possibly he looks a bit like his father, and so on". The truth is that all children look like each other.

A later photograph at the age four or five, shows me as almost a cute little boy. What times and what a pity that beauty is of no use. People do not want to accept the idea that somebody can have more qualities than just beauty. Having only one quality is quite enough and rather too much at times. Consequently, I shall write about my defects and how they have increased with time, making me to think they are worthy to be mentioned.

To be sincere, I must confess that there was a spark of hope somewhere: maybe I was not very cute. Maybe I was not cute at all. Consequently, I should have the right to some qualities. It is true, they are not confirmed by history yet, but I am an optimist. People often write and re–write histories. There are as many histories as many great interests are! And not only the good examples are worthy to be mentioned; the bad ones are much more instructive. I remember my grandmother, who was a great admirer of carrots, advising me to eat carrots to help my cheeks turn rosy red. Otherwise, I would look like brand "X" which was really not recommended at all. I did not look like brand "X" even though I did not eat carrots. Somehow I have avoided all the extremes that impacted my childhood.

As I already said, my second activity as a newborn was eating. In respect to the historical truth, I did not eat but drunk. Here is how the lie inoculates us early in our babyhood. And it is not the worse thing. It is true that at the beginning the word was (the Bible says), but the first word might not always the right one. It seems nobody understood my first word even though I said it very strongly. Later on, although I insisted, people persisted in their lack of interest for basic philosophical ideas. As for drinks, this has remained a matter that I am still studding and considering its depths. Some things are as uplifting as they are deep. That’s why they have to be done thoroughly.

Later, I learnt that I was born under the sign of Taurus (2 May 1937), together with other good men like Lenin and Marx. Recently I have learnt that Saddam Hussein is only four days older than I. Hitler himself aspired to the same sign and a single day missed him. Maybe this sentiment of dissatisfaction made him so ambitious. It could have been Machiavelli’s as well, but he was a clever fellow, despite to those who —more Machiavellian than him —slandered him.

The happiest year of my sign is going to be 2037. We will live to see it, though my sight is becoming weaker and weaker.

At the beginning, I was very disappointed with my sign because Taurus is a bull and a bull is however an ox: idiot and horned. But I was told that my sign is still a good one. As a matter of fact, in antiquity, Taurus used to be considered a symbol of masculine force and intelligence just thanks to its horns. Zeus himself, in his best days, used to disguise himself into a Taurus. (I think that women invented zodiac, because only they could idealize an ox in such a great measure.) I have heard that, according to other zodiacs, I should get rid of this obsession, but I do not know other ones and I am not eager to learn about them either. Why should I find out other flaws? I have enough with these already known.

There is about the same with the horoscope. Learning that I am to benefit by a good day, for example, I will be able to make mistakes due to rather much trust in my abilities. Instead, learning that I was going to have a bad day, I would be embarrassed and would make mistakes just because the lake of my usual horned enthusiasm. Learning about my horoscope at the end of a bad day would be the best. In this way I would receive an explanation for my failures during that day, and it would be a tonic for the following day when, surely, the horoscope will be more favourable, with the help of statistics: after rain, bad weather! I think it is a little different but it does not matter.

I tried with biorhythms too. It seems more scientific but it gives me the sensation of a machine. I have the feeling that a rod–crank mechanism acts upon me in an obsessing and everlasting rhythm. Or, what a pity, some day it will stop to the disappointment of my biography’s readers. Every good thing has an end... But let’s do not rush. I have only started writing it.

As the zodiac, horoscope, and even the biorhythms did not help me much, I have learnt to take things as they are. Nevertheless, honestly, on every 13th day of the month, I usually inform my acquaintances that they will probably have a bad day.

I do not know when I grow up. About what happened later on I have to write, but I am very busy now. Before I retired, I used to have much more free time. Wishing to hear good news, and do not forget: my glorious year will be 2037!

Byyyee!!!