The problem is you can’t get out!

Now if you’re following your airline history, you know it’s a legendarily bad business. The runway is littered with bankrupted airlines, Pan Am, Braniff, Eastern…the list is endless.

But now, but NOW, airlines are incredibly profitable, because they’ve figured out YIELD!

Bottom line? Flights fly full.

So I’m inured to the procedure. The endless wait at security, at the gate, the reason executives (AND DEEJAYS!) fly private is TIME, they’re not making any more of it and if yours is precious the two plus hours you waste before your flight is now productive time. Then again, the have-nots will keep telling anybody with a life that we have it good, that they were born in a field and crapped in an outhouse and the rest of us are abusing them and therefore Trump got elected. There you have it folks!

And the truth is my non-flight experience is everybody’s experience. Our infrastructure has gone to hell, because no one wants to pay anymore, taxes are bad, you’re entitled to your income without deductions, and the truth is we live in a society and what affects one of us affects us all…when a butterfly flaps his wings in Japan…

So I’m on the plane. Sans upgrade. Yup, that’s another scam, they tie you to an airline so you have status, so you don’t have to pay for baggage, so maybe you can get an upgrade. And the hoi polloi take their entire belongings with them on the plane, so there’s no luggage space, because they don’t want to pay and nobody wants to wait for their baggage, but…

I can’t travel that light. I’m willing to wait. But for how long?

And the girl next to me is skinny, but she’s got B.O. Really? Isn’t this part of the social contract, that you shower before you go into public?

But that depends upon parents. That’s where we learn this stuff. And too many of today’s parents are dingbats. It’s the basics that count, table manners, cleanliness… But these are the same parents who go blast the principal when their kid is sent home with a note.

But I grew up in a different era, where your parents weren’t your best friends, you were AFRAID OF THEM! And sure, my dad hit me with a belt and a brush and I’m probably traumatized forever but I knew if I screwed up in school I wouldn’t get into a good college and my future would be sacrificed… Life is all about delayed gratification, and I’m aiming this at you baby boomers, taking social security early. Do you really want to make that bet? What if you outlive your money? Happened to some friends of mine, they had to get a reverse mortgage to get by, but at least they owned real property. As for me dying before I hit the crossover point, I’m willing to make that bet, the government can have my money, I just don’t want to be without when I need it. As for working in your late eighties… GOOD LUCK! No one wants to hire you, you’re too old, and probably too infirm to boot.

So we sat on the tarmac for three hours. Even though there was bright sunshine outside. The pilot said there was weather somewhere. But at the three hour mark you’ve got to go back to the gate where we sat for another hour before they canceled the flight.

But this is the kicker, since they book the flights so full, I CAN’T GET OUT UNTIL TOMORROW NIGHT!

That’s right, despite flights on the hour, there are no seats. You’d think they’d build this potential problem into the system, but NO! Capitalism rules, stockholders must get their due, screw the customers!

I’m on the phone with my travel agent, you probably don’t have one. They took away the full-serve gas stations, there’s no help anywhere in America unless you’re willing to pay for it, and most people aren’t, so there is no option, but since I paid $65 extra for my ticket I got through immediately to find out I could fly business on Jet Blue for $1499.

I didn’t want to pay that.

As for getting out on the Jet Blue 10:50…I’d need approval from American, and they wouldn’t give it.

So, the FIRST flight I can get out on is 9:30 TOMORROW NIGHT!

I’ve got to go back to Connecticut, and come back here, and I didn’t realize I was so pissed off about it until I started writing this.

No one knows what’s going on. The pilot, who has been with American for 23 years, after 7 in the Air Force, said it was air traffic control, the system is too antiquated, it couldn’t handle the rerouting after the weather dissipated. Furthermore, there was the issue of him timing out. BLAME THE UNIONS!

No. I’d rather have an alert pilot behind the wheel.

Are you catching this? This isn’t about my personal disappointment, I’ll live, but our whole screwed-up country, where money rules and people are irrelevant to the point where we’re no longer humans, just numbers on a spreadsheet.

But you want to be able to fly cheap.

Then again, smartphones are ruining the world.

Thank god I had my iPhone, so I could see that Jet Blue flight was delayed three hours and probably won’t get out tonight either.

But no, I’ve got to shut it down, stare into space, because some wanker parents and intellectuals think technology is bad and we must be protected. Huh? Technology is what is gonna get me to Los Angeles in the first place!

And this screed won’t make a bit of difference. Tweet the airline, think you’re special!

But none of us is special, the joke is on us. While we’re busy fighting amongst ourselves the corporations are divvying up this world and they don’t care about us, but without customers they’re HISTORY!

But you’re too busy e-mailing fake news to prove you’re right. That’s right, my inbox is filled up with people who refuse to go to Google or Snopes to see what they’re saying is false. Don’t you get it, we’re all on the same side!

The immigrants are doing jobs you don’t want to.

The addicted are scarfing opioids so Purdue Pharma can get rich.

But the problem is the TAKERS!

How many takers are there?

I’m not a taker, you’re not a taker, we fight amongst ourselves when we are the problem.

We’ve got to pay folks.

For better infrastructure, for a better society. We all can’t live behind gates, we all can’t fly private. Just because your wheel wasn’t broken in a pothole that does not mean the next person’s won’t be.

And if you think you can get the attention of the CEO, if you think he’s gonna see my tweet, take my phone call, solve my problem, you’re dreaming.

I pay for AppleCare so my computers and phones are protected.

I pay for insurance so if I get sick I won’t have to pay for my ski pass. Yup, that’s another story today, someone got cancer and wants their money back but they didn’t buy the INSURANCE! Is Vail supposed to give them their money back so the world at large can feel good?

Protect yourself. Know that we’re all brothers and sisters, in this together.

And now I just got a text that my driver can’t pick me up.

There you have it!

I know this is the third missive today, I know this is too much, I know I’m going to have a net loss of subscribers, but…

You have no idea how stressful and weird it is here. My mother is not good. Her mobility is extremely limited, her mind… I had to lift her up the stairs to Franki’s house on Saturday night, she can’t put one foot in front of another when she’s not on a level surface, do you know how weird it is to lift your mother, not as weird as going into the bathroom with her, not that I watched, but I’ve got to make sure she doesn’t fall, that would be a disaster, one more fall would kill her, and she’s got no problem with going, but it just can’t happen on my watch. You’ve got no idea what aging is like, to have all your friends predecease you, to be unable to do what you did previously, what you want to.

And my mother lives on the sixth floor of her building. In a two bedroom condo. And during the day you can see Long Island past the Sound and at night if you open the windows the air flows through and it reminds you of summers past, not the arid hot ones of California, but the humid evanescent ones of New England.

And I have to gear myself up to do my back exercises, after I’ve read all the e-mail, written a missive or two, but when I do…I fire up the tunes and they take me away.

Yesterday I played Shawn Colvin’s “Steady On,” of which I had an advance cassette, I played it that week in Minnesota after my ex-wife left, she said she’d call when I landed, but she never did. And when we finally connected I told her not to pick me up at the airport, I just could not be disappointed once more.

And the years after that…

I remember the first Christmas. The woman I kept trying to get the attention of turned out to be gay. I’ve never felt so low.

And then the nineties got worse. The one time my ex wanted to come back I had a girlfriend and said no. Then I ran out of money and had an horrific operation and hit rock bottom, if my father hadn’t died and left me a bit of cash so I could go to the psychiatrist I wouldn’t be here right now.

And then my life was saved by AOL. That’s right. Don’t listen to the anti-tech Luddites, our phones bring us together, make it all personalized, I don’t want to go back to looking at the four walls, needing to go to Borders and the library for stimulation, staying home was death.

And then…

A reader wanted to connect via e-mail. She went to college in Michigan, I had a free AOL account via Warner Brothers Records. So I fired the application up with the 1200 baud modem I’d purchased and rarely used and in 1995 my life took a complete turn.

And not needing to pay when they were charging by the hour I checked out every nook and cranny on that service, from Love@AOL to…

Chat rooms.

They got a bad name. I understand it. Who can make sense of the cacophony?

I certainly couldn’t. But fourteen people were allowed in a room at once, and everybody had a profile and you’d click and find a person who was appealing and hopefully…

Start a conversation.

Bruce Springsteen hit a wall. He’d played to the masses and no longer wanted to do this. He was an international superstar as a result of “Born In The U.S.A.” but now he wanted to be a bit more personal, which is why he recorded…

“Tunnel Of Love.”

That’s what I listened to just now, to accompany my stretches, my exercises.

Ought to be easy, ought to be simple enough
Man meets woman and they fall in love

But it’s not.

But the house is haunted and the ride gets rough

That’s certainly true. My ex calling me that spring killed my new relationship, after spending years with someone you can’t cut the bond that quickly, no matter what anybody says, I checked out of the new relationship mentally and it never recovered.

And then a year later I had a new potential love. But I just couldn’t get close. We could go for a ride, I could go to her house, but we could only get so close. I thought it was me, but two weeks ago the shrink said sometimes it’s them, and it made me think back to summer camp, my second relationship ever, from which I never recovered my confidence, I felt so self-conscious with Jill, unlike with Betsy the summer before, now, at this late date, I know it was her.

And “Tunnel Of Love” was the first LP where the E Street Band was not featured other than “Nebraska.”

And then Bruce went further into the wilderness. He released two albums at once, and as a result both failed, “Human Touch” and “Lucky Town.” It took recording “Human Touch” for the Boss to find his feet, and so he quickly recorded “Lucky Town,” I understand the phenomenon, sometimes you’ve got to get the juices flowing, sometimes you hit the groove.

And sometimes you don’t, sometimes it’s all about being fresh and even though you think your latter work is better, it’s not.

But “Lucky Town” is an improvement, it delivers.

But, like I said, it was too much for the audience, kind of like this missive itself.

But the first LP of the simultaneous release, I quoted the title track to my chat room paramours all the time.

And it never worked.

I told them I just needed someone to talk to.

And a little of that human touch.

That’s right, that’s the worst part of breaking up, the worst part of divorce, as Sting sang, the bed’s too big without them. They were here and now they’re gone, we’re just animals, we bond and the breakup is painful and hangs on, it persists.

That’s what I was looking for, the human touch.

You could say the same thing to two different women and get opposite reactions. You could say something sexual and one would be offended and another would dump you for moving too slow. Truly.

But it helped me get my mojo working again. You see everybody searching for love online back then was damaged, going down the rabbit hole looking for connection. That’s what’s great about the internet, it serves those who haven’t won, who aren’t top of mind, who didn’t get every advantage, those whose lives didn’t work out.

I thought they’d get the Springsteen reference. At this late date I don’t think a single one did.

But I kept using it. I knew they were looking for the human touch too. When something doesn’t work, you need to change it, it probably won’t work in the future. But sometimes you don’t want to axe that part of your personality, giving up represents a bigger setback than rejection.

And I thought of all this as I was doing band exercises behind my mother’s laundry room door as she slept. “Tunnel Of Love” ended and Springsteen was resonating and I thought of “Spirit In The Night” but it wasn’t the right groove and “Sandy” but the first side of the second album was too maudlin, I needed something with more energy.

Like “Human Touch.”

You might need somethin’ to hold on to
When all the answers, they don’t amount to much

My problem with the Boss is his audience, I’ve got no problem with the man himself. But needing something to hold on to, they want to keep Bruce in a box, require he go on tour with the E Street Band, give them what they want. And if you’re an artist it’s a struggle, to go down your own path or the well-trodden one, especially after you’ve walked miles and miles and are not sure of your direction home.

“Human Touch”

The woman in front of me ordered a Banana Barge.

I used to be anxious around black people, we all were. There were no African-Americans in my elementary school and our cleaning woman Jean was black and essentially a member of the family and my dad made his living selling liquor to African-Americans but I was on guard, we all were.

The blacks lived in Bridgeport. We lived in Fairfield. Bridgeport was the land of crime. They broke into Jean’s apartment on a regular basis, she couldn’t have nice things, never mind a record player, which they took too, kids on drugs supposedly. And my father sent two black guys to pick me up from day camp in a forties car and I could lie and tell you it used to be all kumbaya, but it wasn’t. Civil rights and black power opened our eyes. And America is more integrated than ever, for that I credit MTV and the NBA. MTV showed a rainbow of colors, the NBA stars were aspirational, they set trends, along with the musicians, especially now, when hip-hop rules, but there is still racism, African-Americans are still penalized by the color of their skin, but I had no problem talking to this woman ordering the Banana Barge, progress has been made, at least by me.

You see we’re all in it together and we all matter and we all don’t, we’re all just people.

I went with my mother today to the Yale Center for British Art. I’m stunned what they have inside, but even more impressive is the building, whose architect is Louis Kahn. Have you seen the documentary “My Architect”? You should, it was made by his son, you see in addition to being a bleeding edge architect, Kahn had multiple children with multiple women while remaining married to his original wife, it’s quite a story.

And as I wheeled my mother through the galleries I gained perspective.

We’re gonna be superseded, a few hundred years from now they’re gonna marvel that we lived this way, we’ll be seen as backward, even though we think we’re so forward, that’s the story of history, that’s the story of life.

Back in the 1600s people dressed up for paintings, they wanted to show off their wealth, they thought they counted, but almost all have been forgotten. Seems the rat race is always the same, and it’s always futile. In other words, have a good time while you’re alive, because when you’re gone, you’re gone.

That’s why you go to museums, that’s why you experience art. To understand humanity, to learn what it’s all about, if you just inhabit your own bubble and don’t take a moment to breathe, to adjust your frame of reference, the joke is on you.

And my mother is making plans for tomorrow. It’s funny, her generation still talks on the phone whereas my generation even texts, and the younger generation only speaks in Instagram stories. And she punches her finger at the iPhone, no matter how much I tell her touch it, she continues to poke, and gets angry when she lacks success.

And we went to dinner and the handicapped space was occupied. And the restaurant we went to was nearly empty. My mother uses a walker, every step is a struggle, I surveyed the establishment and saw who the offenders were, a white-haired couple celebrating something, how did they get their handicapped placard, they were fully ambulatory! But that’s our society, we think our behavior does not matter, everybody thinks they can get away with it.

And we had a shore dinner, I’ve got certain traditions on the east coast, I’ve got to have Pepe’s pizza, I’ve got to have seafood, clams,/oysters/lobster, fried or maybe not, and Carvel.

And I hated clams and oysters until I had them lightly-battered and fried on Cape Cod, now I’m addicted, to the real thing, not just the Howard Johnson tails but the whole bellies. And believe me, I don’t eat fried food on a regular basis, but I am taking Crestor, there can be exceptions.

Same deal with the Carvel. I didn’t even know if I was still hungry.

There are so few Carvel shops left, and they’re all dingy. If I ran the operation I’d institutionalize them, clean them up, give them order.

But how much money can someone make dipping cones anyway these days? Used to be an honest day’s work resulted in an honest day’s pay. But you can’t make it on a worker’s salary anymore, even though unions are evil and everybody should just buck up and be an entrepreneur. I mean where would you get your ice cream if it weren’t for these people?

And speaking of those people, and I know I’m being offensive, the first step is enlightenment, then comes change, while I was waiting for my new sundae in a glass concoction to be made I saw the beginnings of a Banana Barge, a rectangular plastic tray with a sliced yellow fruit at the bottom, the clerk was pouring on the chocolate ice cream, you don’t want vanilla soft serve, it’s all about the chocolate. And I wondered who was ordering this, the most expensive, lavish item on the Carvel menu.

There was only one other person in the shop.

A fiftysomething black woman.

I can’t remember what I said to her, it was innocuous but it started a conversation. I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable, like I was judging her for what she was putting in her mouth. And I didn’t want any white on black discomfort either. The clerks were Korean, they were lost in their own world, trying to replenish the machine that squirts out the ice cream.

She started to apologize, I said she probably earned it after a hard day.

And I marveled at the state of race relations. I didn’t want anybody to be scared, I was bending over backward to act naturally, to make up for the past behavior of myself and my brethren, after all, we’re all just trying to get along.

And I thought of the denizens in New Haven, walking in the heat with their children.

And the Latinos purchasing lunch from the food trucks in Long Wharf, where I had a fajita quesadilla and my mother had a hot dog. Did I ever tell you I knew who the Flying Burrito Brothers were but had no idea what a burrito was, even though it was parked there right on the front cover, emblazoned with sequins?

We all start off ignorant, then we learn.

But some of us don’t.

Banana Barge

President of Atlantic Records in its heyday, he signed both Genesis and Abba and stewarded the success of Zeppelin, AC/DC and so many more. Ahmet rarely came into the office, he was out signing acts like the Rolling Stones. And Jerry Wexler was busy in the studio. Greenberg was hired to be in the office, to make the trains run on time and more!

Jerry’s from New Haven, started playing in bands, became a local promotion man and when he had to move on he got his father, a jewelry salesman, his old job! And the company liked his father better!

After Atlantic Jerry worked with Michael Jackson and so many more.

You’re gonna enjoy these stories from the trenches!

Jerry Greenberg on playing with Led Zeppelin at Madison Square Garden:

Jerry Greenberg on playing with Led Zeppelin at Madison Square Garden, listen to the entire podcast on TuneApple: https://t.co/Tb97K4usmp pic.twitter.com/QeS3CmuVPa

— Bob Lefsetz (@Lefsetz) July 31, 2018

Listen to Jerry Greenberg on…

TuneIn

Apple

Google Play

Stitcher

Soundcloud

Overcast

Castbox