Is everything. It’s more important than reality.

Steve Jobs knew that, that’s the essence of his vaunted reality distortion field. You watched his dog and pony show and believed not only was Apple superior, it truly had no competitors.

But now the press is beating up Apple and the company is silent.

Steve Jobs was not silent during the iPhone 4 antenna fiasco. He interrupted his vacation, and spun the problem as overblown hype from the media… And the iPhone 4 went on to set sales records.

If you read the press today, you believe the iPhone is in a death spiral, that Samsung is king and Apple is going downhill.

And what does Apple have to say about this?

NOTHING!

Some questions you don’t bother to answer. It’s kind of like “Have you stopped beating your wife?” You just cannot win. Haters and destroyers are out to get you.

But when it’s raw misinformation, and the public is acting on it, you’ve got to put in your two cents, you’ve got to spin the story.

It’s kind of like Google. It didn’t advertise and it didn’t lobby. So the government thought it was evil, that it didn’t respect the rules of the road. So Google lobbied up and got the antitrust investigation quashed. Google explained its position.

Normally in the entertainment business we’ve got over-explainers. Celebrities just want attention. And it’s never about the truth, it’s purely spin, so it ends up being ignored. As for the titans behind the story…you can’t get anybody to go on the record. Has anybody gone on the record about Universal being on the hook for HMV leases? I haven’t read anything.

But there’s no leader at Apple. Tim Cook is charisma-challenged. He starts to speak and credibility goes out the window. Phil Schiller has more gravitas, and Jonny Ive eclipses even him, but who’s really driving this car? Everybody knows Cook is an efficiency expert. Who’s the heart and soul of the enterprise, and where is it going?

The vacuum is such that way down the food chain, where the rubber meets the road, where people buy stuff, Apple is losing steam. It’s gone from trustworthy monolith to dying empire, all based on spin. People in the press and online saying Apple is toast with few facts to back it up.

Maybe the company is in a swoon. We’ll find out next week, when it releases its numbers. But unless Apple blows the Street away, it won’t stanch the bleeding. Word is Apple is done. Kind of like when David Lee Roth left Van Halen. Apple needs a Sammy Hagar. Even better it needs to elevate the image of someone already working there, take Steve Jobs down from the shelf and put someone else up.

You’ve got to manage your image. You cannot let the hoi polloi run ragged with your story. You’ve got to control it. I’m not saying you should lie, but at least give some real guidance. Otherwise you’re like Apple, with a tanking stock and everybody piling on.

Buy YouTube ads.

Once upon a time, YouTube was a free-for-all. Not only were copyrights infringed willy-nilly, there was no revenue model.

Boy have times changed.

Rightsholders realize it’s better to get paid on unauthorized videos and money comes in from…ads.

I hate ’em. Everybody does. Talk to Greg Sandoval, who left CNET after being squeezed by its owner CBS, pissed he gave an award to Dish and its Hopper. Which allows you to skip commercials. On TV, the antiquated medium, commercials are dying. On YouTube, the latest and the greatest, the ads have become so prevalent that we now know who’s selling.

Yup, that’s a big change. For a long while, you just sat there for a few seconds and clicked off the commercial. But now sometimes you have to wait fifteen seconds to click away, and suddenly, I’m aware of Zoosk.

Chances are you are too. If you watch any YouTube. And not a day goes by when I don’t. Even though weeks can pass and I don’t even turn on my television. People e-mail links to clips, I want to check out new music, and suddenly, I’m aware of Liz and Brad and this animatronic heart that looks like an M&M.

Yup, Zoosk is spamming YouTube. It’s little different from e-mail spam. But this time, you’ve got to pay attention.

People think it’s about buying views. That’s passe. Because now everybody knows they’re false. Yup… Your clip that no one has seen, people are still not gonna see it, despite you paying for tons of views. But these pre-roll commercials, we can’t turn them off.

And maybe artists will start advertising soon. But what is fascinating is how the big boys, Madison Avenue, are completely clueless. They’re still overpaying for network commercials, even though the ratings are sinking, convinced that this is the best way to reach the most people. But many viral clips reach more people than network TV shows. And there are no distractions. And there’s no skipping, at least not the first five to fifteen seconds, which is enough to make an impression.

The new days are here. The switch from TV to online advertising is in swing. Advertisers now have a new medium to assault captive viewers. And I hate it. Can I just pay to get rid of the ads?

P.S. If for some reason you’re under a rock, and you’re not yet aware of Zoosk, check out the extended ad here:

 Zoosk Heart Friend (extended)

There are 14,026,245 views as I write this. All real? Who knows!

P.P.S. Vevo abuses the advertising paradigm. Because the ads are too long. The ability to click to end each ad on YouTube gives the impression that the viewer is in control. Vevo just pisses people off.

I’m afraid to go to the car dealership.

I believe in maintaining my automobile. After all, it’s a lethal weapon, and I’m haunted by the seventies, when car trouble was still rampant. That used to be a regular excuse…”I can’t come, my car won’t start.” Heard that this century? Not me. It took autos longer than computers, but at this point, they’re close to foolproof. And just like a computer, beyond self-repair for most people.

And the dealer is not thrilled with this improvement in car quality, because it used to be all the profits were in service. And now that everybody shops on the Internet, it’s hard to make money on new cars. All the profit is now in used cars.

As for service…

Many people jump from the dealership as soon as their warranty expires. They believe the dealer is a rip-off. Not me. I believe the dealer knows my car intimately, he sees it every day, he knows what it needs and can troubleshoot problems. I’m a dealer guy. I’ll pay extra for peace of mind. And I never had a problem with the upsell at BMW. Then again, the repair prices there are insane. But at the Subaru dealer… Every time I go they recommend something else. And I’m a sucker because I don’t want to find myself stranded. The aggravation’s not worth it. It’s kind of like buying insurance.

I was put on notice the first time I went there. The head technician, a brilliant mechanic, told me his customers didn’t do everything he recommended. But I chalked this up to Subaru, believing the owners might be financially-challenged.

Oh, it’s way different at Subaru than BMW. Not only are the prices lower, the people are…from a different economic class. The mother in the waiting room today wouldn’t rent a car, believing she’s not good with them, she always has accidents. And then there was that couple…who didn’t seem to go together. One looked positively north of the border and the other positively south. I was surprised when the conversation was in fluent Spanish.

And I could hear, because I turned off the TV. Well, not completely, but the sound.

I’m waiting for the day when the smartphone eclipses television as the default time-waster. You see it already amongst the younger generation and upscale professionals. They’re addicted to their personal screen. But the aged can stare blankly at the most banal of daytime programming not only in the waiting room at the dealership, but in the waiting room at the medical office too. That’s a big thing in L.A… The doctors have you waiting so long they believe they must entertain you. And it’s always some talk show and it’s always so loud and…

I wasn’t going to sit upstairs in the Subaru dealership with the blaring background noise for ninety minutes, the estimate of my repair, which concerned an oil change and wiper replacement, I wanted to read my book, “The Middlesteins.”

Now that’s addicting. I’m only twenty five percent through, but if you’re Jewish or dating a Jew, read it. Because the characterizations are spot-on. Without the de rigueur humor Jews feel is necessary when writing about their neuroses.

And just when I’m thinking of going downstairs and checking on my machine, the service writer comes up to greet me.

ALL DONE!

But there is this one thing…

It’s worse than Steve Jobs introducing new products, there’s always one more thing. This time it was the battery.

Now wait a minute, I’m thinking. Assuming I need a new battery, I can probably get one at Sears, or Wal-Mart, I read “Consumer Reports,” I know what’s best, never mind these big boxes are always cheaper. But how much time is that gonna take, how much money am I gonna save? And what if my battery craps out on me, even if AAA gives me a tow, it’s a total pain in the ass.

So I said yes.

Well, I thought how the previous battery only lasted four years. And now it’s four years later. Yes, I keep my cars for a long while. I don’t understand leasing. You overpay to impress people? Meanwhile, driving around fearful you’re gonna get dinged when you return it? Ownership is best. Drive long enough, and the driving’s free!

Then again, if every time you go to the dealer you get the upsell… I can turn down the warranty at the big box electronics store, but at the dealership I just can’t say no, not when there’s safety or drivability involved.

It would just take twenty more minutes. And $159.

Sold!

But the bill was indecipherable. And I won’t pay anything without understanding.

So I track down the service writer who says… He screwed up. The final bill was closer to $200. But he’d said $159, so he gave me a discount, he was a man of his word.

So I continue to trust the dealership.

And there were those mornings when the car didn’t start on the first crank…

P.S. For those paying close attention, yes, my car is a Saab, not a Subaru. But really, it’s a Subaru, it just says Saab. Oh sure, there’s slightly different sheet metal and some upscale touches, but it’s Subaru inside, through and through, a legacy of when GM owned a slice of Subaru. But now that slice is owned by Toyota, ergo the BRZ and FR-S twins. And the Saab dealers have bitten the dust. They were clueless as to my 9-2X anyway.

There’s no manual.

You can sign up for Jenny Craig, you can go to the gym. You can read TMZ.

But you’re still old on the inside.

I just can’t get into “Girls.”

Then I realized, I’m too old. I’m not lost in my twenties, looking for love, a career and stability. I’ve found who I am. I may or may not like me, but I’ve got to accept me. Whereas when you’re young and dumb the world is your oyster, your dream is to conquer it. And then you get old enough to realize it’s not only beyond your grasp, it’s beyond anybody’s grasp, you’re gonna be here, then be gone and be forgotten, so you might as well enjoy the ride.

But it’s not only “Girls,” it’s those preview issues of magazines and newspapers. Where they delineate all the films, TV shows and records coming down the pike. I can wait until the hoi polloi sift through them and tell me what’s good. I’ve lived long enough to be resistant to the hype.

And I don’t need it now either. The films I want to see are gone from the theatre before I can get it together and the rest… I can wait for VOD, DVD and pay cable. Then again, I don’t watch them there either. I could argue because they don’t define the zeitgeist, but getting older you realize you are the zeitgeist. You’re the star of your own movie.

And new things… As a kid something four years old is an antique. I’ve got a Kindle 2 in a world of Paperwhites and iPads. But it works! That’s enough. I mean if there’s something better, I’m all over it. Then again, I still remember the days when tech didn’t work. When the electric windows in your Cadillac broke before the car itself expired. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that something brand new has all the kinks worked out. And I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you might as well overpay for the first iteration, because then you’ll get to use it. You can’t have that time back. It’s not worth denying yourself.

By the same token everything important to me will be thrown out by my heirs. My mother already threw out my baseball cards, which would probably pay for a year’s worth of college. My curated vinyl record collection? Straight to the dumper! It means everything to me, but almost nothing to anybody else.

And when you’re young everything is so dear. If it gets broken or stolen your life will end. Get old and you realize you’ll just replace it. You won’t be happy, but it’s a minor hassle.

And then there are the aches and pains. You do read about these. How you wake up and that’s as good as you’re gonna feel all day. But they don’t tell you that everybody is born broken, with a time bomb inside, and some of those you love most, who lived the healthiest of lives, will be kicked to the curb by fate and fade into memory. Then again, those who take their own lives live front and center in our brains for eons. If you decide to leave, we can’t forget you, why is that?

And no one tells you your opinion won’t count. That having lived for decades, through the last century, suddenly you’re dumb and inexperienced. You get happier as you get older, who’d want to be younger? Then again, all the boomers are chasing the fountain of youth, they won’t accept that the best plan is to kick back and enjoy the ride.

And time… When did they stop making less of it? Sunday night, you realize your entire week is shot. You don’t have time to do everything you want and you’re only interested in that which satiates.

Meanwhile, society bombards you with messages of inadequacy. You’re too old, too fat, too poor, irrelevant. But that’s not how you feel. That’s how young people feel. Despite “Jersey Shore” and the glorification of adolescents, being young is fraught with despair. But you rarely read about it, otherwise the world would be topsy-turvy, old people would rule.

And they do. But they won’t accept their fate. They’re just pissed they’re not young.

And what’s up with the fascination with politics? It’s like getting your AARP card. You hit fifty and suddenly what’s happening in D.C. is utterly fascinating, whereas when you were young you barely looked at the paper, unless it was to read the sports scores or concert reviews. Now you read the Arts section last. You don’t care about most of the performers and the raw hype rubs you wrong.

That’s one thing that sucks about being old. The inability to turn off the spigot of hype. Buy this! See this! It’s the greatest! But you’ve been burned before. Again and again and again.

And there’s no self-respect. It can be the best football game of the year but the TV network is still hyping some lame sitcom that will fail in weeks, they’ve even got the announcer saying how great it is.

And then there are people like Rupert Murdoch, who don’t realize they’re not going to live forever. That’s the great leveler, death.

So I don’t know what oldster art looks like. Those healthy enough to make it are not angsting in love, they’re more worried about their retirement account. And if you tackle an adult subject, you can’t get financing, the young ‘un at the studio can’t relate and believes there’s no audience. And the potential audience is so wrapped up in its lifestyle, so resistant to hype, that whatever penetrates does so slowly, and media doesn’t care about that which is not immediate.

But, once again, being old is great. Except for the health issues. You know the game, you can suss out the b.s., you waste so much less time.

But you’re an outsider. They don’t want you on the field and they don’t want to give you any ink.

But life is grand.