I’ll go back and show you these silly little things in our world today. Many years ago I read the story of famous theatrical mothers and their sons that had no talent to begin with. One was Milton Berle and his mother. She would go out—he wasn’t the only child she had, but she singled him out—she would go out when they were playing ball and she would say to all the boys who were playing baseball, “Milton is a star and he has to be a star, and you must all play around him. Whatever Milton says goes” and she meant it! “If you don’t play like this, we’ll take away the ball and take away the bat. There’ll be no game.” I could go through a list of a dozen in this story where every mother of these fellas who became stars held that ideal of their son in their mind’s eye, and did not falter for one moment. If the mother didn’t, then they couldn’t, because they become what she’s beholding. When a mother compares me to a neighborhood child and finds me wanting, well then, she has completely broken the image. She sees me less than the neighborhood child and she thinks that’s the way to get me to be spurred to make a greater effort. That’s not the thing at all. If she really wanted me to be great, then do not falter in her image of me. Don’t try to make me do it. If she really wants that for me, do it.719 ¶18