First, I discovered that I am not Patti Smith. This angered me, but it started me on the path of self-discovery and self-acceptance. How did I know I was not Patti Smith? First of all, I am not a woman. That was easy. The rest was trickier. Was I raised in New Jersey? Hey, trick question. Close, but no cigar: Long Island. Am I a poet? Some of my friends think so. But now I was grasping at straws. I started to think, maybe, just maybe, I am Patti Smith. Then the facts ran me over like a locomotive. I'm not in a band with Lenny Kaye. I don't have any kids. And the clincher - I'm not the Voice of My Generation. This last one was tough to swallow, but let's call a spade a spade.

Am I Jonas Salk? My mother wishes. I wish. I would like to be just half as helpful as that guy. Hey! He's a guy! Let's follow this one through. I'm pretty smart. I wasn't too good in science class, but that isn't a prerequisite for being a great scientist, is it? Oh get over over yourself already. Uncle Tuli went to Columbia at the same time as Jonas Salk and would repeatedly whip Salk's ass at ping pong. If I were Jonas Salk, I think Uncle Tuli would have told me.

Am I Dr. Ruth Westheimer? Don't even go there. See the above, except she's a woman, and no ping pong.