Human Relations Award by the UrbannLeague of Bergin County and thoughnhe worked to elect Teaneek’s first blackncouncilman and to pass fair-housingnlaws. He has shown about educationalnprograms what Charles Murray hasnshown about welfare programs: thatnliberal programs hurt blacks and othernminorities, and hurt them badly. HisnLetter From thenHeartlandnby Jane GreernJust the Way We ArenZig Ziglar came to Bismarck recendy.n(My husband, who doesn’t do aerobics,nlikes his finger of Cutty beforenbed, and is understandably paranoidnabout his decadent life-style, says itnfeels to him as if Zig comes here oncena month.) A lot of people I know wentnto the performance, and many boughtnZig’s books and tapes right there on thenspot, being filled with the natural highnthat an hour of good clean living cannproduce.nWhat did Zig come to tell us? Nothingnless than how to break bad habits,nwork to our full human potential, andnspring out of bed in the morning—nevery morning—to greet the day securenin the knowledge that we’re freenof chemical and attitudinal impurities.nI’m happy to announce—and I’mnsure Zig’s happy to have me announce—nthat he will never worknhimself out of a job. There will alwaysnbe a place for him and others like himnon our podiums in front of recordncrowds. Zig is a drug, and when wencome down from swallowing himnwhole, we have to face an ugly fact ofnlife: We love the way we are.nWhat self-help advocates refuse tonCORRESPONDENCEnradical suggestion that we eliminate allnschools of education deserves supportnfrom thoughtful Americans of everynrace.nGary ]ason is a doctoral candidate inncomputer science at the University ofnCalifornia—Irvine.nacknowledge (and if we ever decide tontruly help ourselves, what will becomenof their book sales?) is that humanninertia, our disinclination to stop badnhabits and start good ones, is heartfeltnand—important in this era of unpronounceablenadditives—100 percentnnatural.nHow long have we known thatnsmoking might kill us, that Frenchnfries attach their mushy innards directlynto the interiors of our arteries, thatnseatbelts are better than nothing? Forever,nit seems. But up until the relativelynrecent frenzy of “smoke-outs”n(telling tide, that), “a la heart” menus,nseatbelt commercials, and all the othernsuddenly fashionable attacks on ournbrittle spheres of individual freedom ornego, who among us eared much? Notnmany. And if all these campaigns werenhalted tomorrow, not many wouldnhave permanently altered their lifestyles.nOur magnificent inertia doesn’tnapply only to life-and-death matters.nRemember the awful “Metric Scare”?nEvery so often, radio spots and newsnreleases, produced inside the Beltwaynfor consumption in Podunk, wouldnleak like toxic waste into our feeling ofnwell-being: Learn metric or be thenlaughingstock of your friends and lovednones. Don’t get left behind in yourncareer by those who can read the handwritingnon the wall. We all knewnbetter. That handwriting was merelynnngovernment graffiti, scrawled by hoodlumsnin the high five figures. We knewnthat if “they” really thought it wasnimportant we’d be made to comply, asnwe’re made to crawl along prairie interstatesnat 55 miles an hour and sitnbehind exploding airbags in new cars.nAnd we’ve been vindicated: The “MetricnScare” passed like a thief in thennight, stealing only our tax dollars,nleaving us unscathed to tell the story tondisbelieving grandchildren.nMost recendy it’s been the ninedigitnzip code, which the USPS saysnwill help our mail get there faster andnmore effieientiy. Obviously, 999 out ofn1,000 other Americans agree with menthat our mail service is stupendous justnthe way it is, because that’s the ratio ofnnon-zip-plus-four to zip-plus-fournmail I receive. Some letters addressednto me {never those sent by me, let menhasten to add) are even, pardon thenexpression, zipless, and still they saunternin. The occasional zip-plus-fournaddress cowers among my other mailnlike a virgin at an Aztec convention.nLet’s face it: Self-preservation is notnour strongest instinct; is, in fact, annimpossibility. We know we’re onlyntourists here, so why not see the sightsnbefore the bus pulls out? Our innocentnvices and our mulishness where itnmatters least are a large part of whatnmakes us human. Humanhood alonenhas the wits to luxuriate in the statusnquo—to understand that life is a gift,nmeant to be enjoyed—and the rawndetermination to sometimes transgressnthat status quo if it means a realnreward. Humanhood alone can looknup from a plate of fried chicken livers,nlight a cigar, drain the last of the wine,nand, perfectiy aware that such habitsnare unhealthy for the body, say, withnconviction, J AM okay! You AREnokay!—and be correct. The feast ofnthe soul is a strictly human event.nAs I was telling my husband just thenother night, I could never love a mannwho was totally perfect. It seemed tonreassure him. What it comes down tonis that people who never smoke, neverndrink, never gossip or tell dirty jokes ornswear, never compete too hard or takendefeat personally—people who grimlynjog 10 miles a day, smirk as they loadntheir plate with the dregs of the foodnchain, and never permit themselves angood sulk or a moment of despair—nsuch people are too good to be amongnMARCH 1987 / 35n