Autistic Gang

I wrote a short story in this blog. I feel myself mildly represented in the story. The group mentioned, could've been called The Goonies or the Autistic Gang. Maybe something in between would've been better. The characters there are people I either know, or know about. All of them in real life have a problem.

It was unsettling to write the story, I started to wonder who is not crazy. As I saw around my colleagues here in the Mathematics Department in Chilpancingo, I felt uneasy. Then when I considered other professors at the University, I felt that they are not different, but then it hit me; anybody in Chilpancingo and in any city in the world is a bit mad.

Obviously what I started to consider as mad, is not what your average schrink will consider mad. I am stretching the concept of mad way far beyond to where it is useful.  But then again my mother told me the other day about a niece's husband that has a new kind of vice. The poor man plays video games and neglects his wife and kid, to the point where my niece just left him. My father's father liked booze and the marimba so much in Guatemala, that my father didn't get the college education he would've been perfectly capable of getting.

On my wife's side there is an ancestor that didn't drink, or played video games, but lost his money gambling. I am sure my readers can go on, and on, and on. Who is crazy then?

More importantly is the question: What does crazy mean?

As you may start guessing now, I don't really know. That is why I felt strange for a few days. I am still wondering, and watching people around me with a puzzled expresion.