No one talks about Uber anymore.

I was listening to Howard Stern interview Robert O’Neill, the guy who shot Bin Laden, and he got me, I fired up my phone and downloaded the sample chapter of his book “The Operator” to my Kindle. Previously the hype had slid off me. I’d seen “Zero Dark Thirty.” But I’m fascinated with physical feats, SEAL training, how your body gives out but your mind takes over. And one piece of advice O’Neill gave, which is so good, is if you’re gonna quit, wait a day to do so.

United’s numbers went up. That’s right, after they dragged that guy off the plane and everybody said they were gonna boycott the airline it didn’t happen. Now, of course, you can say the people had no choice, with the majors having divided up the airspace into tiny monopolies, but I’ll posit people just don’t care.

That’s the story of the year. That’s the story of the Trump election. The left wing is so wrapped up in gender politics that it’s missing the issue, which is primarily economic. Sure, women shouldn’t hit the glass ceiling, but can I put food on the table?

The last big Uber story was that they hired Bozoma Saint John away from Apple. Now other than seeing her last year in the Apple presentation, has this woman done anything of note? I’m not saying it’s a bad hire, but if she’s bonding with Arianna Huffington and they’re trying to make the company touchy-feely, I doubt that will work.

Because it’s never worked in the past.

Warner Music was getting excoriated in the press for Interscope Records. They sold the company back to its founders, who turned around and made a deal with Universal for beaucoup bucks. Jimmy Iovine has an HBO series made about him, Michael Fuchs, who ran HBO before he got control of Warner Music and made this decision, is less than a footnote, no one knows who he is anymore.

You don’t react to the publicity.

Dov Charney was fired from American Apparel and it went bankrupt. Now he’s restarted as Los Angeles Apparel, will he win?

I’d bet on him.

Founders are different people. They have vision. And rough edges. Steve Jobs gets booted by Apple and the company goes in the dumper. He comes back and it becomes the most valuable company on the planet. Coincidence? I think not. Furthermore, if Steve was still alive today would he be taking the same privacy tack as Tim Cook? I don’t think so. The money is in the data, and Apple keeps saying they’re not using the data, satisfying the public outcry but denying the fact that most people just don’t care that much and cough it all up. You love the services, you love the right recommendations, you say you don’t want to let someone know you, and then you do. It’s quite a conundrum.

And the founders of Google brought on adult supervision with Eric Schmidt, and then demoted him. He could make the trains run on time, but he had no vision.

Uber is a service. Dependent upon buzz.

Now all the buzz is at Lyft. Seemingly every day there’s a story about Lyft. Self-driving cars, the founder… Don’t you see what’s happening here? The press killed Uber. The board blinked and now it’s a second-class citizen that will probably never recover.

Sure, Kalanick was brash. Sure, there was a sexual culture.

But you had to applaud the guy who stood up to entire COUNTRIES! I’m in France and the cabbies are flipping out but I’m dialing up an Uber on a regular basis. Screw the establishment, I’m all for disruption, because every economy that tried to hold back the future failed. Which makes you wonder about the narrow-mindedness of the U.K. and U.S., thinking they can secede from the global marketplace. France was so busy protecting French culture that it became irrelevant.

One person makes a difference. A band rarely survives the loss of its lead singer.

It’s hard to define excellence, other than with results. You can’t replicate the winners of this world. They’re rough outsiders with laser-focus and oftentimes short tempers, and this irks the few while delivering pleasure to the majority.

Uber’s on a bad path. If the board were smart, and it’s not, it’d bring Travis back before it’s too late.

All that publicity, about people deleting the app, mostly it came from people not using the service anyway. One thing about Uber, IT WORKED! People will abandon your product if it’s bad. But you don’t swerve from success just because refs without portfolio start crying foul.

Remember when Beavis and Butt-Head were pariah number one?

Remember when Eminem was excoriated?

Remember when the Beatles broke and long hair was a taboo?

You can teach a young dog new tricks. Steve Jobs proved it.

You can rehabilitate Travis Kalanick.

As for company culture…

This was the same company that made ride-sharing a household word.

That’s right, you hobble the innovator.

The same people who called the election wrong are championing Kalanick’s ouster?

Their track record ain’t that good.

They’re wrong.

It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday

Actually, it was sometime after eleven.

Garth Brooks could be the biggest act in America. But in today’s siloed world where everything exists in its own niche, you can be unaware of this.

Until you go to a show.

Tickets are eighty bucks. And Garth keeps adding shows until everybody can get in. He’s putting a dent in scalping, but not completely. And sometimes he does two shows. He can start as late as eleven thirty at night and continue until three thirty a.m. Sound like anybody you know? That’s right, the Grateful Dead. At the Fillmore East. And when every show is choreographed, oftentimes imprinted on the tour laminate, you never know what you’ll hear at a Garth gig.

Other than the hits.

He plays them and everybody knows the words. The only song in which the crowd was not deafening was the new one, which Garth put the lyrics of on the big screen, so they could sing along. And he hasn’t had a hit in years and his music ain’t on Spotify but if you were a fan of country before the bros took over, you know them all by heart. He’s the king of Wal-Mart and Amazon too. And if you’re in the demo and you were inside the building…

Your head exploded.

Now this is a funny crowd. Almost evenly split between men and women. Families. Young ‘uns. It looks like…America. You know, hot dogs and beer, and the flag waving too, before the right wing made patriotism a litmus test and the left wing seceded from the conversation, after bellowing at the blowhards, leaving many hard-working Americans lost in the shuffle.

I don’t see these people on the Westside. Even the San Fernando Valley. And there were a few African-Americans and even more Latinos but they all live in Southern California, they all are integral parts of society, and they all remember when radio was the driver and if you won there, you won everywhere.

That era is dead. We all don’t know the same songs and oftentimes we don’t know more than the hits. But if you made it before the internet blew up the paradigm, you’re an institution, you’re part of the audience’s DNA.

Now Garth is anti-charisma. He’s so different from the rock and pop stars. It’s not so much that he’s self-deprecating, but that he’s all out, fully available, he holds nothing back, he’s conversational and goofy and you don’t feel a barrier between you and him. It’s so strange, other country acts do this too, but maybe they’re just imitating him. And the more you watch him you realize this can’t be an act, this has got to be the real Garth. And then you realize you’ve never even been to Oklahoma, maybe you’re out of touch with a whole swath of Americans making up the fabric of this country. No, I’m not talking about the fictitious silent majority that Spiro Agnew and Sarah Palin can’t stop talking about, but people who are just living their lives, who are not consumed by politics, who think cooking and eating and drinking and playing and raising your kids is the essence of life.

Now when Trisha Yearwood takes the stage for her bit, she shows footage of her cooking show, from the Food Network. And you notice nobody’s skinny and they’re eating carbs and having a good time and you wonder if you’ve got it wrong, lionizing the thin non-eaters. I’m not saying obesity is cool, I’m just saying so much entertainment is out of touch with the audience.

But not Garth Brooks.

So at times there are five guitarists up front.

There are three backup singers.

Garth no longer flies, but the drummer is in a cage that lifts and rotates, but does not go upside down, although I was waiting for it to, I wanted to see Tommy Lee given a run for his money.

And everybody’s a long-termer. Garth is nothing but loyal. Which is strange in today’s society, where everybody’s looking to trade up. He goes with the guys he came with. Talks about working it out on Tuesday nights before he made it, yup, it’s some of the exact same people.

And he plays to the far reaches of the arena. Running around. And he’s a bundle of energy that never stops.

But the highlight is…

When he comes out for the encores.

Now you never know, he’s already given it his all. Done not only “Friends In Low Places,” but “The Dance.” All the hits are done. You can’t bitch that you didn’t get your money’s worth. You’re applauding and you expect the lights to come back on at any minute and then…

Garth reappears.

Just him and his guitar.

And he looks out over the audience and…

He starts playing requests.

He looks at the signs and whips off the songs. Ones he hasn’t played in years. Ones not even written by him! Someone asked for a Keith Whitley song!

And then there was the couple holding signs that their first date was at a Garth Brooks show and now they’ve seen three and they’re married with a baby on the way and Garth can’t help but do their song.

And it’s like James Taylor. All quiet and intimate and acoustic.

But without a script, without a set-list.

And you think this is a gimmick, a set-up, but Garth goes on and on, playing more and more requests, and you start to tingle, you’re experiencing a magic you can’t get anywhere else, the combination of music and emotion that is the elixir of the live experience.

And then Garth picks on the guy right in front of me! Who’s fifty eight and has been holding up a series of signs throughout the evening.

He wants Garth to play “Operator.”

But isn’t that a Jim Croce song?

It most certainly is…

Operator, well could you help me place this call…

Now I never saw Croce live. And I never liked “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown.” But I do love “I Got A Name” and my favorite is “Operator” and how does Garth know all the words without a teleprompter? And he’s so sincere, he’s not oversinging, this isn’t “American Idol,” this is someone who lived through the era when singer-songwriters were king and he’s caught in his reverie.

But then Garth starts to strum and…

It’s indelible. You know the original. Which broke the act. Which was a staple of the seventies. Which begins with that acoustic figure…

I was a little too tall
Could’ve used a few pounds
Tight pants, points, hardly reknown

He’s playing NIGHT MOVES! It messes you up. He lived through this too. He’s been in a Chevy trying to touch the points sitting way up high. It’s like all of the arena, all of your life, melted into one soft ball, like being high on drugs, only in this case it was only music.

And then…

It was nine o’clock on a Saturday.

It’s a song about a piano man, but Garth is playing his guitar, and you can only stand there and beam, as you throw your arms high in the air and sing along.

We were all in the mood for a melody.

And Garth had us feelin’ all right.

People have got to stop dying.

I know, I know, it’s the way of the world. But when you age, when the people you came up with start to die, it leaves you lost in a way that is not depicted in the news, it reinforces that everything is temporary, that most of the games in life are an illusion, and that all the touchstones you’ve been depending upon are nonexistent.

John Heard starred in “Chilly Scenes Of Winter,” subsequently retitled and rereleased as “Head Over Heels.” It was the film depiction of an Ann Beattie book, back when she was a cult hero, before everybody became a cult hero, when books still mattered, especially if they captured the zeitgeist, which in this case is the ennui of twentysomethings.

Which doesn’t exist anymore.

Used to be the twenties were not go-go. Most didn’t go to graduate school. They were not working their way up the ladder of the corporation. They were not worried about falling behind.

They were just trying to find themselves.

I know, I know, it became a cultural joke, but who are you, really? Are you the job or the title or..? And are you on the right path in life? Today everybody’s so desperately worried that they’re falling behind that they cannot get ahead, at least personally, they’re stunted, they’re wearing blinders.

And the truth is I’ve neither read nor seen “Chilly Scenes Of Winter” since the seventies. My memory may be screwed up. But I remember one of the two being set in Salt Lake City and the tenseness of connection and on again and off again relationships and my girlfriend turned me on to the book and I hold the memory dear and have followed John Heard ever since.

This was back when movies were still a passion. The essence of American culture. “Jaws” and “Star Wars” were seen as anomalies, not the way forward. Flicks would play for months. They opened in New York and L.A. and you’d line up on Friday night and come out after like you’d been to a rock concert, having had an experience. And the actors were rock stars. You followed their careers. You looked out after them. There was a clear dividing line between movies and television and there were not twenty new flicks every weekend and you could be a student, a connoisseur, you could get a handle on what was going on, know the players, and invest in their careers.

And it’s weird that the players are getting older.

But it’s even weirder that there are new players, whose names we do not know and ultimately do not care about.

So Heard was in “Cutter’s Way,” a troubled production that finally hit the screen. And the thing about Heard is you could see inside him. He too was troubled, he had a past, he wasn’t light and two-dimensional, you knew people like him.

And then he became a joke in “Home Alone” and his arc seemed to flatten, he was not on the way up anymore, and you read about his troubled personal life and he seemed to be someone you used to know, who showed up now and again, like on “The Sopranos,” old and fat, everybody ages, or dies, when we want them fixed in our mind. Kinda like an old girl or boyfriend. You expect them to look just like they did when you were involved with them. And then you run into them and you can see the years in their face, the time in their body, they’re experienced, beaten-down, they’re no longer in their twenties with hopes and dreams, they’re just trying to get along. They’re still the same person, it’s just that…

You cannot go home anymore.

And then you find out home doesn’t even exist. Not only did your mother sell it, the new owners repainted and added an addition and left toys in the front yard and they changed the name of your school and all you can rely on is that celluloid, when you come across the old movie on TV, or in your mind, and you’re reminded of what once was. With the road of life empty and long in front of you. When you were just coasting instead of hurtling down the highway. When you thought it would go on forever.

But it doesn’t.

This show went from five stars to two and a half while we were watching it.

But I can’t turn it off.

I don’t know what’s going on anymore. I’m sitting on the crapper reading my phone and freaking out. The ruling party in Poland is taking over the Supreme Court and the Palestinians want to break off relations with the Israelis and America’s a second-class citizen sans leadership. We went from the ruler of the free world to an also-ran in six months. All in the name of selfishness. That’s what it’s all about. Those damn foreigners and ethnic people are ruining our country and our economy. Manufacturing our TV sets, coming here and taking our jobs. If we could just return to what once was everything would be great.

But there’s no turning back.

That’s what they don’t tell you about life, it’s all forward all the time. And it’s very fucking weird. Especially now, when the whole paradigm of life has been shot to hell and those in power tell us they know what they’re doing when they don’t. Not only the buffoons in D.C., but the entertainment titans in Los Angeles and the bankers in New York. Greed doesn’t seem to be very good. There’s no long term planning. It’s all now, now now, and you wonder why the underclass is desperate. And we’re all hanging on by a thread. Statistics tell us we’ve got no savings, we’re leveraged up the wazoo and we’re unprepared for retirement. But then that comes, watcha gonna do? It’s kinda like health care. The ACA sucked until suddenly you got insurance and I don’t want to go left and right here because that’s another thing I’ve learned this year, it’s positively useless, you can’t convince someone to switch sides, facts are no help, you can’t fight decades worth of indoctrination. It’s kind of like when you go away to college and find out your parents are not perfect. Then again, maybe the “best friend” millennials still think theirs are, and their parents certainly think they are, so what we’ve got is an endless circle jerk.

Nobody goes to the movies. Of course there’s a business, of comic book superheroes, one wherein the prices are raised so grosses look good but the problem is the paradigm no longer works. I think about going to the flicks now and again, “Baby Driver” and “The Big Sick,” but they don’t start when I show up, never mind the fact that I have to drive over to see them. I would have paid twenty bucks to see them day and date at home. Even more if it was more than me. Instead, when I’m not reading, when I need a jolt of humanity, which is what TV, when done right, delivers, I turn on Netflix and binge.

Now notice it’s not HBO. HBO’s destined for the crapper. There’s this fiction that content is king. But what do I always tell you, distribution is king! And the problem with HBO is they dribble out the product, I have to wait a whole damn week to see a new episode, and by time a couple have already played I’m too far behind and give up anyway. What was that Reese Witherspoon show, “Big Little Lies” or something like that? Got a lot of press, actually watched one episode, but I was too far behind and I already know the ending but when I start a show on Netflix I feel like I’m going down my own personal rabbit hole, with the stars on the show, and if I like it I can go deeper and deeper and it makes me feel coddled in a world where Sting can get tons of publicity and his album can stiff and a derided rapper can become ubiquitous. And I don’t need to shit on Lil Yachty, hell, I’m not even that familiar with his material, but when his elders and contemporaries are both complaining where does this leave me? Do I dive in or..?

And I’m not saying Sting’s new music is any good either, that it’s worth listening to, everything just drops on your doorstep and disappears. Just that fast. And no one knows everything and no one knows what’s going on and so much of what’s offered on the streaming services is crap, but when you find something to dig your teeth into, that titillates you, it’s so satisfying.

So this is another drug show. As in crime. As in cartels. That’s the drama. And it’s been overdone, it’s just that Laura Linney is such a good actress. And it turns out Jason Bateman is pretty good with drama and how old is he now anyway? His wife may be too old to have kids. That’s how you know time has passed, when the youngsters become oldsters, where does that leave you, in this case, me?

And in this show Bateman is smart. He’s got good quips but even better analysis. And for so long the men on TV have been dumb. And don’t beat me up for that, it was a story in one of the papers, and women rule the world anyway, it’s just that she cheated and he did not and I don’t want to give away the plot but why is everybody so moral on the outside but different on the inside?

Someone recommended a new book, I skimmed the sample chapter, I’m not even gonna look up the title, I’m done with most non-fiction, it’s a way for people to get rich, they all have an agenda, even vaunted Malcolm Gladwell, have you listened to his podcast, L.A. is famous for its private golf courses? Nobody has EVER said that to me in my lifetime, but he’s got a point to make, everybody’s got a point to make, when they’re not making money, which is why art is so satisfying, it lives outside that system.

So Bateman and family move to Lake of the Ozarks to try and launder money.

I’ve got a fascination with resort areas. Having lived in so many. Either you’re a local or a tourist and you want to be a local but you can’t make ends meet. Did I tell you that when I was a ski bum, a starving freestyle skier, there was a coterie of twentysomething in Bogner one-pieces, which is like driving a Lamborghini, or at least it was, with no visible means of support? They were DOPE DEALERS! COCAINE! As my father always told me, there are no mysteries, your goal is to pry beneath the surface and uncover the truth, don’t be satisfied with the surface story.

So they’re fish out of water and desperate and except for the overdone rednecks, the show kind of resonates. Takes me away from this fast-paced world which is simultaneously humdrum that I can no longer figure out and makes me happy and what truly makes me happy is the lack of frustration, I can watch to my heart’s content, finish the whole damn show in one day if I want to, I’ve done that, but tonight we watched three, and it was a great antidote to a week of b.s. and if you’re looking for lessons you’ve got to know that TV rules, because it’s on demand and in the home and Netflix rules because it’s all available at once and it’s not quite the theatre but the soundtrack was blowing up the Sonos subwoofer and it reminded me of nothing so much as the seventies, when I went to the movies almost every night, taken away into a visceral world that made me feel rooted and alive.

I went back there tonight.