He died.

We were the first TV generation. This was before they called it the “boob tube.” Its novelty had started to wear off, but our parents still remembered getting together for Sid Caesar and “The Honeymooners.” TV was a breakthrough, just like the internet. And you’d watch anything, just for the experience, just like you surfed mindlessly in the early days of AOL and the World Wide Web.

I can’t remember the first TV show I watched. I think it was “Winky Dink.” You put a plastic screen in front of the TV and drew along. And then there was “Tom Terrific.” And “The Mickey Mouse Club.”

I don’t remember a time when “The Mickey Mouse Club” was not on the air. It was a ritual, watching it every night while we ate dinner, at least we three kids. Sitting at our table in the lower floor of our split-level, the “playroom.” One wonders where that table went. It hung around for quite a while, it became a utility table thereafter, a place to store goods, it wasn’t even three feet square. It had black and white-checked linoleum on top. And four miniature chairs that disappeared quickly. It’s my Rosebud, but not really. I have essentially nothing from that period. My mother could throw anything out. Like the day’s newspaper. Sleep in? It’s too late, it’s ten a.m., the papers are GONE!

And what I remember eating most was buttered noodles. Much better than with tomato sauce. And we never ever drank milk, unless it was chocolate. My father owned a liquor store, we had a flowing pipeline of soft drinks.

So we’re sitting there eating and there were the Mouseketeers.

We were too young to know that Annette was a dream. She was a teenager, we looked up to all teenagers, never mind the ones on “The Mickey Mouse Club.” They were tall, and had a level of freedom. And it wasn’t only Annette. There was Cubby and Tommy and Darlene.

And there was “Spin and Marty.” It was a serial within the show. Set on a ranch. In black and white, nothing was in color. And Tim Considine was Spin.

“Spin and Marty,” no one ever talks about it anymore, but they did all the way up until the early seventies. I remember at a summer program in Chicago I was called “Moochie.” Maybe the most famous actor on “Spin and Marty.” But even he’s dead now, he passed in 2015.

And then came “My Three Sons.” It started in 1960. A new decade, which we were excited about, it was all about new back then. Shiny, pushing the envelope, possibility.

I had no idea Fred MacMurray had starred in “Double Indemnity.” He was just the guy from the Disney movies, all of which we saw. The two best, which Fred starred in, were “The Absent Minded-Professor” and “The Shaggy Dog.” Going to the theatre and watching them in pristine black and white, what an experience. MacMurray was a comic actor. But really he wasn’t.

So “My Three Sons.” Of course my favorite was Chip, he was closest to my age. I only wished I could be beamed into the TV, for I had no brothers, never mind two! 

Robbie was the in the middle, played by Don Grady, whom I met a little over a decade ago. I went to see the Refugees at the Getty, and he came up and introduced himself. ROBBIE! He was a reader. At first I was speechless, he was a god in my book. But here he was, older, much shorter than I’d thought, talking to me! Turns out he was a composer.

The oldest was Mike. Played by Tim Considine.

But five years later, when the show jumped networks, he was gone. He’d gotten married, he’d started his real life, at least on television. He was replaced by Barry Livingston as Ernie, Chip’s younger brother in real life. Who I never accepted. He was young and goofy. None of the three sons had ever acted so. Sure, they screwed up. But they projected an air of maturity.

You have no idea how much kids wanted to be on TV back then. There was no internet, essentially no way to break out of your hometown, you had to move to Hollywood, where they not only made the movies and TV shows, but the music too. California was aspirational. Instead of the right wing punching bag it is today. It was three hours behind. Long distance phone calls were expensive. It might as well have been a different planet.

But it was beamed into our homes almost all day long. Programming filled the air between the test pattern. Haven’t seen that recently. In the eighties, with the growth of cable TV, there started to be 24/7 programming, and that was a boon for a night owl like me. If you needed a friend in the middle of the night, you could find one. An old movie. Or the infomercials. They were everywhere, and you knew them all…Didi 7, did it really clean that well? I knew to be wary of products hawked on TV, there was usually a scam involved, I mean how could they offer two for the price of one if you called right now, but I always wondered.

But we had plenty of TV back in the fifties and sixties, at least in the New York market. Three networks and three independents. And I thought CBS was on channel 2 everywhere, just like NBC was on 4 and ABC was on 7. Turned out this was true in Los Angeles, but in the rest of the country the networks could be at any number from 2-13, which I still don’t get. Then again, it’s not about networks anymore. It’s not even about cable, but on demand streaming. Actually, there’s a good chance you’re paying more for a little less, how did that happen?

So Beaver came back. Some of the legendary fifties and sixties actors. Hell, even Sid Caesar came back in a Mel Brooks movie. But mostly they live in our minds. And before the internet you had no idea what they were up to, they were just royalty, living in Hollywood somewhere. At least until they started ripping-off 7/11’s and having their mug shots in the news.

So Tim Considine was 81. Is that old or young, I no longer know. 81 was ancient when “My Three Sons” was on the air. 70 was old. But now your seventies are seen as an active decade. And you slow down in your eighties, but if your health is good you’re quite alive, you get around.

But reading the obituary I learned that nothing really happened for Tim Considine in show business after “My Three Sons.” He ultimately became a photographer, of cars and sports. He pivoted. He survived. Ironically in Mar Vista, only a hop from where I used to live.

And Tim’s death has me thinking, how life is long. Seemed short and immediate when I was watching him on TV, you had to do it now or forever lose your chance. And we know now that fame wasn’t everything we thought it was. Sure, kids knew you all over the country, the world. But you didn’t go to regular school. Your parents banked and possibly stole your money, which wasn’t huge to begin with. You had to have a second act.

That’s hard for boomers to square. At the end of our parents’ work lives we learned employment wasn’t for life. And today’s kids know that jobs are temporary and they’ll have a zillion. But us? We kind of still believed in the company, even though we ultimately got canned, and too many never recovered, if for no other reason than age makes you a pariah, companies don’t want to pay the health insurance.

So you’ve got to start all over, alone. Be an entrepreneur. But no one ever taught us these lessons. Certainly not in college. You took a job, you didn’t make one. And being an entrepreneur involved risks. Which our parents never wanted us to experience. Get a degree from a good college, plug yourself into the system and hang on. Or if you really wanted to go all out, become a professional, a doctor or a lawyer, accountants weren’t in the same league. And none of them were upper class, you could make good money as a surgeon, but you couldn’t afford to live in a 10,000 square foot house.

So many baby boomers are lost. They don’t know what to do with themselves. They may even have enough money to survive, but how to fill up the time? And volunteering just doesn’t fill you up, have the same gravitas, as getting paid.

So actually, Don Grady, who passed back in 2012, and Tim Considine won. Unlike one hit wonder musicians, they didn’t trade on their one success for the rest of their lives. They could leave the spotlight behind and continue. Maybe they were forced to, who knows. It’s hard to stay in the action in Hollywood, and like I said, pay was nowhere near what it is today, even in adjusted dollars.

But Mike can’t be dead. I mean Fred MacMurray, sure. But the three sons…they were always young and cool. Like an old girlfriend they’re fixed in our brains. And when we run into them years later, we’re shocked they still don’t look the same.

Tim Considine was Mike, but his hair had lost its color, he wore glasses, he looked like the guy you saw at the supermarket, or maybe down on the docks, looked fine, but older, which he most certainly was.

And if Tim got old, if even he couldn’t hold back the sands of time, that means…

I got old. You too. Time is running out. What do we want to do with it? Because if Robbie and Mike can die, ANYBODY CAN!

“Tim Considine, Young Star of ‘My Three Sons,’ Is Dead at 81”: https://nyti.ms/3CgPxYI

It’s my father’s birthday. It would have been his 100th, but he passed away thirty years ago, at 70, just after his birthday, in fact. I spoke with him on the phone the night he died, he was scared. I remember. He didn’t want to go, it was too soon. But he was prepared. No, let me change that, he was warned. He had multiple myeloma. A death sentence at the time. They said three years, turned out it was four.

Back then you doctor-shopped for cancer treatment. At least for multiple myeloma. My hematologist now says you can get good treatment everywhere, at least in the metropolis, because multiple myeloma is a hot area, it’s where all the breakthroughs are, they just approved a drug from China this week, but too late for my dad.

Then again, you should still get a second opinion. And if you don’t live in a major metropolis, you should go to one for a consultation. There are specialists in the city who see these illnesses all day long, whereas in the hinterlands you get generalists, who see your condition much less frequently, and are not up on the latest breakthroughs. My dad ended up going to this physician in Arizona, Dr. Salmon. He said half the chemotherapy was just as good, which turned out to be true. It was hard to tolerate to begin with, just imagine if my father had to take double the dose.

You’ll get cancer. Everybody does. At least if you live long enough. That’s what Mitch, my internist, says. That all his aged patients have had at least one bout of cancer. You think you’re gonna live forever, you’re not. And you probably don’t realize it. But one day you will. Maybe you’ll try to fight it, with plastic surgery, quack treatments, but no one here gets out alive.

And speaking of quack treatments… If you get cancer you’ll hear about them, from friends telling you western medicine is screwed-up and if you just ate the right thing, went to their unaccredited shaman, you’d live. You won’t.

Why the government gets a bad name here I don’t know. And Big Pharma too. Big Pharma is flawed, but you want their medications when you’re bitten by a bug. And the government is looking out for your health. At least the FDA, the CDC has been politicized, it used to be run by lifers, now it’s run by a political appointee, and politics enters the equation. We want someone like Fauci, who is not beholden to the ballot box, but somehow he’s the enemy now too. I mean life must be tough if you can’t trust anybody other than nitwits who spew falsehoods that align with your beliefs. We need some trust in our society in order for it to function, big time.

Not that I planned to write all this medical stuff when I started typing. But I’m gonna die, and it’s now sooner rather than later. It’s weird. Not frightening, but hard to accept. I look in the mirror and I’m old, but inside I’m still young. But I do notice no matter how much I exercise I can’t build the muscle mass of yore. But there’s so much I want to do. But my generation’s time is waning. At this point, the boomers my age are either running the outfit or retiring. It’s very strange. Everybody’s talking about laying down their sword and living a life of leisure. Seems positively scary to me. What are you gonna do all day? I got enough of streaming TV during lockdown, let me out!

But you reach a certain age and you realize it’s just a game, it’s all meaningless. But those younger just cannot understand. That’s the funny thing about life, you can tell people about it all day long, but in truth they have to experience it for themselves.

But some wisdom is important. If you’ve got a pile driver parent, that’s probably good. When I came home from high school the first quarter with a bad report card my father went positively insane. And that he knew how to do. That was one of his skills, going absolutely crazy.

He’d lose control. The older you got, the more you got scared. You’d be standing there, enduring verbal punishment, but you were more worried this guy was gonna start destroying the environment, wreaking havoc.

But in truth education is everything. You’re eager to start, people drop out to do their heart’s desire, but as you age you realize that head start was just a drop in the bucket. Four years? In the blink of an eye.

So my father supported my passions, but education was always number one.

And he was a strange guy. Very internalized. My older sister went to social work school and started to unpack the family’s issues and at first my mother was open to it, but then she shut down, didn’t want to hear it, barked back that yeah, everything was her fault, right…facetiously.

And it’s funny, because my mother was the verbal one, the life of the party, the straw that stirred the drink, but her death is liberating in a way the passing of my dad was not.

Well, maybe too much time has gone by and I don’t remember. I do remember my dad always being there for me when I was truly low, whereas my mother’d kick me. And then she’d be pissed that I wouldn’t share my feelings. So you can put me down?

It was hard to even have a conversation with my father. You could listen to him, giving you the Morris Lefsetz Philosophy, but as far as telling your story and interacting, never really could happen. But he had a bit of a sixth sense. He was the one who took me back to the big box store to return that record. Hell, when you’re young and you mix in some OCD a defective record could mean a lot to you, throw you off course. My mother wouldn’t quite laugh, she’d just say it wasn’t a big deal. So I stopped sharing. And then she was mad I did.

My father was a self-made man. He came from nothing. And was very proud he established what he did. He never ever invested in the stock market, he didn’t trust it. Real estate was his game. Not that he had enough money to play it at a high level, but…

Those were different times. Everybody was middle class. No one was rich, not like they are today. Sure, there were people poorer and wealthier but you could reach out and touch them, you could enter their sphere, end up in their world, whereas today it’s an impossibility.

And when you’re a strange guy people say strange things about you. My dad died, but it didn’t take long, until just after the funeral, that some people started talking shit about him, as if they were better. My father knew how they felt. He’d always say we don’t live in a big house, we don’t drive fancy cars, but we travel and eat out, we have a good life. And we did.

Yes we did. And my father cared about his kids before he cared about himself. During the tennis boom he bought a racket at the gas station, from a passing sot. He didn’t need a good one, the rest of us did.

Now today it’s trendy to poor-mouth. To say you had nothing and still have nothing and isn’t it nice that others have it so good. Forget that so many are lying. Someone just told me he grew up blue collar, lower middle class, but then he let slip his dad was a lawyer. Impossible back in the fifties and sixties. First and foremost there were so many fewer attorneys. But my dad laughed at these people, caught up in their petty games, he was living in his own bubble, his own universe, and created his own rules. My father never adjusted for anybody, being himself earned him his coin.

But we lived in the suburbs, the dreams were different.

So many from my generation grew up in similar circumstances. They did okay financially, but their aspirations were not that high. Writing this right now I realize my aspirations came from my dad, not my mother, the culture vulture. My mother always told me I couldn’t do it, but my dad would smile, maybe give me some cash to proceed and then it was up to me.

Not that he could understand me. But the weirdest thing is so many years later I realize I’m just like him. Which is just plain strange, because if you asked me back then I’d say no way. I too don’t suffer fools. I too don’t weigh in until the conversation is so far off the rails that untruths are being accepted as fact. Because if you interrupt with the truth, people don’t like it. There are people who know the truth, with ambition, but you’ve got to make the contact, you’ve got to figure out a way to enter their circle, be accepted in the virtual club. That’s something most people don’t understand whatsoever. If you’re dealing with someone further up the food chain your only hope of being accepted is acting like you belong, that you’re worthy. Kiss ass and they’ll keep you at arm’s length. Meet so and so, tell the story, a brush with greatness. But hang with them and go to dinner? Priceless!

I really didn’t understand all this until I went to Middlebury College. This was not the suburbs, these people’s fathers were running the country, and suddenly I had access. That’s probably the biggest lesson I learned there, how to deal with the rich and famous, much more important than anything I learned in class.

And my father set me up. He paid the freight. He was proud. Much prouder than I was, in fact. Same deal when I became a lawyer. But then he expected me to stand up and fly straight, when I’m categorically incapable of doing so.

That’s another thing I never realized, my upbringing prevented me from playing the game. Which is all about calibrating your personality and lying so you can make friends and get ahead in business. My father was unfiltered, I had to figure out a way to be so myself and make it work financially.

But then he cut me off. My mother made him. My mother believed in an honest day’s work, punching the clock. God, she tore me down so much that I thought I should be one of those people standing on the street corner, twirling a sign. It was the opposite of today’s generation, parents telling their kids how great they are. Even worse, my parents would tell us how great other kids were. My sisters are still scarred by this. Then again, this yields determination, to prove them wrong. Well, at least in me.

My father knew the grandkids, but not the great-grandkids, who my mother knew before she passed. My father is in the rearview mirror, a part of history. And soon I will be too.

I do the math in my head all the time. How growing up in the sixties if someone was born in the twenties, they were really old. And the Beatles were born in the early forties, very different from the early fifties. And now if you were born in the eighties you’re in your thirties. How did that happen?

And I see people still acting like they did as children. In their behavior. Where do I fit in?

I guess I don’t.

Well, in truth my shrink taught me how. And for years I did that, and there are a ton of rewards in being a member of the group, but now even that group are out of the business, most of them. Music is a young person’s game. You think it’s forever, but in reality it’s for very few.

70 seemed old back in 1992, now it seems young. But it’s not only me who’s going to pass, but everything I believed in. The culture. Most of it was of a moment. Maybe better than what we’ve got today, but those were different times, you have no idea how much the internet has changed the world. At first it was exciting, now we can see the flaws. The mis and disinformation. The ability to become an influencer, famous from your own home. And you’re connected everywhere, and you wish in many ways you weren’t. You don’t want to hear about the old people, what they’re doing. And you don’t want all of their information online, to look up. Because when you do you see where you are. On your way over the hill, when you thought you were different. It’s kind of like “Godfather III,” just when you think you’re out of it, you get pulled back in, your whole history boomerangs back on you.

And I remember the dates. My parents’ birthdays. Those of college friends. Exes. Some of these people aren’t here anymore, and that’s strange. You think about stuff you did that you’re embarrassed by and then you realize it doesn’t make any difference, you can write about it, you’re liberated, because they’re dead! And soon you will be too.

And it’s not that I want my father back around, he’d still be the same guy. He still wouldn’t fully understand my hopes and desires. It’s just that now I’m part of the continuum. He had his time, I had mine, and soon it’ll be someone else’s. We all think we’re living in the future, but one day we wake up and it’s the past.

They told us it would be this way, but we didn’t believe them. But it happened to us too. We’re now the elder statesmen. We didn’t trust anybody over thirty, should today’s generation trust us?

We’ve got a lot to say, but they’re not listening.

But you get old enough and you realize the totems of success are nice, but not necessary, even worse, no one is toting up the numbers, there isn’t a tally at the end, no one ends up on top. Ultimately you’re on your own trip, you’ve got to satisfy yourself. I read a great thing in a book a couple of weeks back. The protagonist was debating whether to take a risk. And he spoke with someone older and wiser and they said that’s how you move ahead in life, by making decisions. You make one, and even if it’s wrong, it will take you to a different place, with a new viewpoint and new opportunities. It’s so hard for me to make a decision. Has this held me back? I want to do it all, will time run out of the hourglass first?

My father made decisions easily. I am the beneficiary.

I am his son.

Fee Waybill is the lead singer of the Tubes. Listen to how he made it from Arizona to San Francisco, from the country to the city, from roadie to frontman. And get an education on polo to boot!

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/fee-waybill/id1316200737?i=1000552806204

https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/9ff4fb19-54d4-41ae-ae7a-8a6f8d3dafa8/episodes/7393fa53-98eb-4eae-adff-82bfe28823c5/the-bob-lefsetz-podcast-fee-waybill

https://www.stitcher.com/show/the-bob-lefsetz-podcast

Does anybody take this shit seriously?

It’s political theatre, and a bad production at that. The team in control stands up and applauds, sits down and then does it all over again. Over and over and over again. The president promises stuff that will never come to be, and then the pundits analyze this worthless affair ad infinitum. I never watch, it’s a waste of time. I read about it after the fact. But tonight, doing my back exercises, I tuned in. This is our country?

I guess when I was young I believed in the government. And I’m not talking about the bureaucracy, all the stuff some want to drown in the bathtub. I mean I thought the elected officials were educated and intelligent people with the best interests of the public at large in their hearts. After all, there’s not a single person elected in the House or Senate who only represents people from one side, but that’s how they act. Until they want to weasel out of commitments, like Joe Manchin, telling us those on the other side won’t tolerate it. No Joe, you don’t want to vote for it because you’re afraid you won’t be able to get all those donations, and god forbid you lose your seat… When did serving as an elected official become a permanent job? Too many of these people have lost touch with real Americans. And by that I don’t mean just those living in rural areas with too much power in the Senate and ultimately receiving more than their share of government aid. If you’ve got money, you’re removed from the street. That’s one of the reasons you make the money. The goal is to have a private jet and vacation on a private island, meanwhile jumping from house to house with impenetrable security. You don’t even do your own grocery shopping, how in the hell would you know what is going on?

Oh, by reading the news. And believe me, that goes a long way. But never forget that the news media missed Trump. You’ve got to do more than go out there and shake hands. You’ve got to read your e-mail. You’ve got to live amongst your constituents. You’ve got to come down off your pedestal and be one of us. But no, politics is show business for ugly people and they all think they’re better than the rest of us, ain’t that a laugh.

Now, with democracy in jeopardy, the Ukraine war putting the entire world into focus, illustrating how we’re all intertwined, you’d think the country could come together. BUT NO! Politics has turned into a 24/7 sporting competition. You’ve got to take the other tack from your opponents. I mean aren’t we all against Russia? I mean even Tucker Carlson switched sides.

As for Donald Trump telling us it wouldn’t happen under his watch… Why doesn’t he tell us not only exactly why, but what Biden should be doing, be presidential. But no, we just get endless self-promotional platitudes, saying to trust him. Does anybody truly trust Donald Trump? Not even Melania does. They voted for Trump because he captured and articulated their pain and frustration, something the Democrats have given up on. The Democrats are all intellectual now. Feeling is not a part of their platform. As for Biden…Bill Clinton felt people’s pain better, however his wife Hillary was a technocrat.

So the bottom line is Putin is a dictator.

I’m just reading the news and they’re speculating there’s something wrong with him. He looks puffy. Macron said he sounded different.

Oh come on, Putin is single-minded and he doesn’t suffer fools. Would you like someone to take a look at a photograph of you and judge you?

I mean at some point elder people are more prone to dementia, like Ronald Reagan, who had the disease while still in office, but enough with Biden being out to lunch. He hasn’t evidenced this whatsoever. And he’s your president as well as mine, and what he does in office affects us all, especially regarding Ukraine.

And then there was the inane response from Kim Reynolds, the Governor of Iowa.

The Republicans employ code words. They focus on social issues, which usually fade away, to rile their troops and get elected. So fearful of critical race theory, which is not even taught in today’s elementary and high schools, they elected Glenn Youngkin in Virginia, who immediately reversed so much of the progress and social equality measures his Democratic predecessor instituted.

So Kim Reynolds rails on about education. That we’ve got to get the parents involved. If only they truly were! And I don’t see them running to get minorities’ parents involved. No, this is about coddled white people, who want vouchers so they can attend schools that exclude everybody who doesn’t look like them, or maybe have a token or two. It’s about separation, not inclusion. And in truth, parents shouldn’t be hands-on re the curriculum anyway! If you think you know better, home school your kids, which too many people are doing, as if it’s all about the subjects. Most of what you learn in school is how to get along with people! Like college, I learned a hell of a lot more out of class than in. If for no other reason than I was exposed to people from around the world, with different backgrounds and beliefs. I mean I grew up in a suburb, only fifty miles from New York City, but until I went to college I had no idea what was going on in the rest of the country, despite watching television and reading the news. I’d never been around people SO RICH! You think you want a seat at the table, but you can’t get and keep one until you know where these people are coming from, how to behave around them.

So all this stuff Reynolds and the Republicans are going on about we all want. We all want better schools, we all want a more efficient government. Then again, in some cases, Reynolds wants the community to do it instead of the government. Can the community fight a war? Is the community gonna take care of the underprivileged and abandoned? No, the government does the work the rest of us don’t want to.

And talking about Democrats and taxes. This ties me in a knot, trickle down economics never works, the Republicans kept lowering taxes and the rich got richer and the poor got poorer. And therefore every new tax is wrong? I mean why can’t you be a student of history?

And it’s not only tax policy, but environmental policy. First, let’s accept climate change. Second, let’s stop putting up straw men like China. The truth is China has cut pollution far in excess of what the U.S. has. And their electrical vehicle production and consumption far outweighs that of America. Oh, but you’ll read blowhards in the WSJ talking about electric vehicle subsidies… What about gas and oil subsidies, what about farm subsidies? The government invests for the future, LIKE THE INTERNET! Which I’m employing to reach you right now. You spend to grow.

As for the governmental subsidies, to keep people and the country afloat… They didn’t cause inflation, Covid and the supply chain did. Furthermore, the economy is raging. Why do people keep thinking governmental monetary policy is the same as personal monetary policy. It is not. Turns out printing money can be a good thing. Austerity… Germany and the EU almost broke Greece and Spain a decade ago. Made them pay for prior mistakes. End result? Generations out of work.

So let’s find common ground on a few of these points.

Right now, the enemy is Putin. And we can’t be isolationist. Because rust never sleeps and neither does Putin’s effort to restore the old Soviet Union. I mean Tucker Carlson went to Hungary and sang its praises. What next, praising Cuba? Or North Korea?

Yes, we can differ on how much to tax and spend. But that’s not what we’re doing, we’re doing NOTHING! As if broken down infrastructure will fix itself. Yeah, what if you’re on that bridge when it collapses. How lucky do you feel, punk.

As for the tearing down of all Covid restrictions, which seems to be a train that has left the station based on the words of a very few blowhards… Have you seen what happened in Denmark when they did this? Covid infections WENT THROUGH THE ROOF! But Denmark’s vaccination rate is very high, the United States’ is very low. And the new variant is more contagious. So if you’re not vaxxed… Once again, how lucky do you feel? When you have to swim across the river, and it looks kinda  far, do you want to depend on your inner strength or would you like the aid of a life preserver? Which will keep you afloat when you tire, so you can rest and then complete your journey.

Then again, safety nets are anathema. It’s like everybody wants to live in the old west, with their boots and their gun. Well, if you got sick or shot in the old west…you died. There was not a hospital nearby. And if you get Covid and need to go to the hospital, if you have to go to the hospital for any reason, good luck getting in. Did you know that more people have died of Omicron than Delta? Yes, Delta was inherently more deadly, but so many more people got Omicron.

Don’t bother to send me b.s. contradicting what I have to say. That’s just b.s. from tireless self-promoters looking to become rich and famous, selling their untested nutritional products to fund their quest. You’ll put this junk in your mouth but not take a Covid vaccine?

We have a lot of common ground. But it’s being denied, by Mitch McConnell and the rest of the team players. Imagine if you worked at the corporation and you told the boss your goal was to make sure your coworker never completed anything, how high would that fly? NOT AT ALL! You work together for the best result. I mean come on Mitch, your job is to legislate, you really can’t find common ground? I’m sure if we had dinner we’d find we’re more similar than different, but you single-handedly changed the balance in the Supreme Court, undermining the INTEGRITY of the institution. And yes, I can no longer believe in the Supreme Court, and I’m not the only one. And as a lawyer, the entire system is based on stare decisis but these judges are ignoring it? Tell me these decisions are not political.

You don’t want to involve the police and you don’t want to go to court. Even when you win you often lose. It’s expensive and try collecting.

Ukraine is a thorny issue, can we please address that?

And pierce the veil. The Republicans keep foisting good-looking women to spread their message, but so many of their policies are anti-woman. Do you think we’re stupid? Oh, that’s right, many of us are. Believing that Biden is responsible for dramatic gas price increases. But in 2021 America had the third highest domestic oil production in history!

And Tucker Carlson railing against dollar stores. I can’t even comprehend this. So you’re poor and you have to shop there and now Tucker is criticizing you for it, telling you you’re making America dirtier, littering all the while?

Yes, read the “Washington Post” fact-check on Tucker’s Monday night show: https://wapo.st/3HyKW5m I really wish you would, I pay attention to Fox News.

And while you’re at it, read Thomas Friedman’s piece on Ukraine in today’s “New York Times”: https://nyti.ms/3IDVXn7 He lays out the three possibilities of how the war in Ukraine plays out. You need to familiarize yourself with the possibilities, after all this is affecting you and your wallet, never mind your future.

And enough with the left crapping on Friedman. Sure, he’s married to a rich woman and he’s not always right, but basically you’re pissed he’s in the “New York Times” and you’re not. That’s America today, everybody believes their opinion is entitled to a hearing. Talk to your friends and neighbors, but if you want a bigger audience you’ve got to earn it, build it. And journalism is a game, I don’t care how good you are, do you know these people at the “Times” and other papers?

I don’t and I don’t care. And some of these blowhards are so bad. Farhad Manjoo was a reasonable tech columnist, but as an opinion writer, he’s too often whacked. And Michell Goldberg too often shows her biases and misses the point. But the “Times” has never called me to write for them and never will. I own it. I’ve got my audience, I’ve got distribution and if I do something really damn good it goes viral, that’s how it works.

Everything is hard. But Americans want it to be easy. And everybody believes they’re entitled to be a star. And the one that bugs me the most is Americans don’t believe in sacrificing, not whatsoever. The greater good? Screw the rest of the populace. In the U.S. no one can lose their job, progress is hindered because wankers want the past protected, and that’s a journey to disaster, which is happening right now in electric cars. GM and Ford are dabbling at best, Lucid and Rivian can’t even build them. Meanwhile, China and VW are whole hog. And despite all the blowback on Tesla, it keeps selling more and more cars.

So it’s all bad. Not only do I not believe in too many Americans, I don’t even believe in the SYSTEM anymore. I don’t call this democracy, when the Dakotas get four senators and California gets two. But the Constitution is inviolate. Why? Imagine if your smartphone or computer were inviolate, imagine using an original iPhone, even worse a Treo.

It’s dusk in America. But can’t we at least rally around the common enemies, Russia and Covid?

I guess not.