Me and Mao

When you're part of a minority -- and I'm a card-carrying member of several -- you maintain a mental roster of any high-profile figures among your ranks. Adam Sandler picks anew each year from the long list of famous Jews for his Hanukkah Song, while Scientology has Tom Cruise, John Travolta, and countless other celebs. We Quakers have Herbert Hoover and Richard Nixon, lucky us. And a friend of mine, bless his heart, practically wets himself when he spots anyone from his native Minnesota in a TV show or a movie.

As for ALS, everyone knows that Lou Gehrig had it; he gave his name to the disease. Almost as well known are Stephen Hawking and Morrie Schwartz, the latter famous mostly because he had ALS. I was also aware that our numbers included David Niven, Jacob Javits, and Catfish Hunter.

But yesterday, after nearly a decade in Club ALS, I was astonished to learn that one of my comrades was Mao Zedong. Mao Zedong!

Nowhere was this mentioned in the orientation kit. As a former flack, I understand the reluctance to tout mass murderers among your membership. Still, you'd think I'd have heard about it sometime over the past 10 years. When Andrew Cunanan shot Versace, the gays could speak of nothing else for at least a week. "He went to prep school with my cousin!" "My ex's ex had a blind date with him!"

If I can make peace, however grudgingly, with my affiliation with Tricky Dick, I guess I can accept Chairman Mao.