I met a schoolmate in October 1971 who gave me a new perspective on the human mind, on education, and on political news. I had just moved from [home town] to [place of residence during 9th and 10th grade]. I attended [name of junior high in name of school district]. The bus ride from my subdivision in [new place of residence to junior high] was long, so I wanted to have someone to sit and talk to on the bus. </p>
<p>I was the new kid in town. I didn’t know who was fun to hang out with, and no one knew me. One boy, an eighth grader when I was in ninth grade, sought me out. He’d sit next to me on the bus (he lived about five houses away) and talk to me eagerly. He told me stories about his dad’s business interests. He surprised me when he informed me that his dad had a personal helicopter that he would fly from his home to go on business trips. He told me more in the next few weeks. One afternoon on the way home he told me how he had saved a dog that fell into a well. The Humane Society gave him a special award, and the local newspaper published his picture, he said. </p>
<p>Suddenly I said to myself, “Wait a second, this is a lie!” I usually take people at their word. My parents were honest with me about money, about the facts of life, and about themselves. I believe all things and hope all things, but finally my schoolmate became just plain unbelievable. (It probably helped that I hadn’t heard a helicopter flying in our neighborhood those few weeks 
.) By then I’d often noticed how much all my other schoolmates rolled their eyes when I was near him. </p>
<p>The liar had a younger brother about my brother’s age. The younger brother was in our Scout troop. Sometimes I saw other boys in the troop mention the older brother to the younger brother. The younger brother always looked very pained when that happened. </p>
<p>I quit hanging around with the older brother. By then I’d made other friends anyhow. I don’t mind being the friend of the odd man out, but I detest being lied to. I went on to tenth grade at [new place’s senior high], lost touch with him, then moved back to MN. </p>
<p>The July-August 1992 Health magazine has a fascinating cover story, “I Was a Kidnapped Starlet: True Confessions of a Pathological Liar.” The author reviews the medical literature and reports on interviews with people who were disappointed by believing pathological liars. He also reports on extensive interviews with a particular liar whom he gives the pseudonym “Jacqueline.” He relates his efforts to track down which parts of her life story were true and which were false. He could never be sure when she was lying to HIM during the interviews. There is also an interesting sidebar on how poorly most people do in detecting lies. Even police officers and psychologists do no better than random guessing. </p>
<p>The most disturbing thing to me about my old schoolmate, and about an incident reported on page 40 of the Health magazine story, is that these pathological liars were not helped by school. Indeed, my schoolmate was an “above-average” (as to letter grades) student, and “Jacqueline” was fondly remembered by one of her college instructors, who remembered Jacqueline’s made-up struggles with leukemia and Hodgkins disease. </p>
<p>Liars seek the approval they fear they can’t get by being truthful. It’s sad, but they don’t succeed in keeping it.
Congratulations to all the newly admitted students from high school class of 2008.</p>