WAIT? You've gotta be kidding me!

So I'm reading about this big ass study by some clown at Columbia University, I think his name is Walter Mischel, which deals with how our brains manage delayed gratification...

What? Where was I? I got distracted.
I have the attention span of a gnat. I was jonesing for some of that Halloween candy we withheld from the neighborhood hooligans. (Once again I was successful in my annual con job on Linda regarding the amount of sweets we would need to protect ourselves from the local urchins.) Looks like there's enough chocolate goodness in the house to keep me happy until just before Christmas.


My only 0versight appears to be forgetting to load up on candy corn. That stuff is super hard to come by during your post Halloween holiday shopping excursions. (Something to do with ethanol production is my guess.)


Anyway...this study of delayed gratification employs a simple test. This test, according to the Boston Globe, has surprising power to predict a child's future. It works like this: A 4 year-old is left sitting at a table with a marshmallow or other treat and is given the challenge of either eating the marshmallow right away or waiting for a grown-up to come back into the room at which time he or she will be rewarded with two marshmallows.

Some kids wait less than a minute and others last as long as twenty minutes. The longer the child can hold back, the better the outlook in later life for everything from SAT scores to social skills and academic achievement. Neuroscientists say it's all pre-wired in our brains.

This goes a long way toward explaining why I spent nearly forty years tucked away in very small sound proof rooms playing phonograph records and talking to people I couldn't see. I was, alas, a ONE marshmallow kid.

Sorry....What was I going on about?

Hey, did you hear that Obama won?

That is so cool! I have nothing to worry about anymore. My IRA will be whole again, gasoline is going to be free AND my house will be PAID IN FULL.

I'm a reasonable guy. I'll give him until March, my birth month, to make this all happen. People I know have assured me that he's THE MAN!


In the meantime...pass me the marshmallows.

I don't see any grown-ups around.