A small sample poll (done by me in my free time) of Americans reveals an interesting fact about the $48billion dollar Elon Musk payday: no one cares. NO ONE. At least that I have found in person. Some long distance friends are interested but since I couldn’t prove their identity with face to face communication, their votes were not included in my poll. Seriously. With AI you never know anymore who’s on the other end of you conversation unless you see them. (Sorry, Dennis.)

There is a certain segment of our American population, hereinafter known as the Flock, who view Musk as a hero, a righteous culture warrior not just winning big at capitalism and fleecing the Flock, but possibly a future power who can gobble up Anti-Trump media and shut them down. Or convert them to X.

Not one person asked had any idea how much of the $48billion might be taxpayer money, sent by the US Government to Musk subsidiaries for defense and intelligence work.

The problem is there are now about 5 to 10 people in the US alone, who have enough wealth and power to do what they want, anytime, anywhere. It appears the historical Republican effort to reduce regulations will be having an identity crisis, soon: the billionaires won’t pay any attention to regulations and laws anyway. The Billionaires can gut enforcement like the SEC by hiring all the SEC’s employees away. And for real good example of what money can do, look at all the lawyers protecting Trump (and his associates) from judicial justice. And Clarence Thomas. How many judges at state and federal levels are already influenced not by the law but by(buy) money? In Thomas’s case, he doesn’t care how it looks. Screw you, Flock,

In ten years we won’t have political countries we recognize. We’ll be back to the middle ages with fiefdoms with their own armies and governments. We’ll have a New Civil War on the American Continent between Amazonia and Muskovoy. And the European billionaires will take on the winner.

The saddest part of this poll? Even if EVERYONE cared, there probably isn’t anything we can do about it.

But for a start, we should all stop the GMGA attitude mentioned in an earlier article. Got Mine Go Away, if it is eradicated, won’t slow the Musks and Bezos of the world, but make what’s left for us, The Flock, a little easier to swallow.

The Sheryl Crow song referenced above was meant, I think, to celebrate the somewhat misdirected exuberance of lost youth. But it represents the mature mindset more accurately, and has become an annoying earworm.

When relocating to upstate New York, I made the mistake of buying a very comfortable rocking, recliner, henceforth known as The Chair. The error was compounded by placing The Chair in front of the wall of windows facing north. The situation was further aggravated by sitting in it.

My daily routine is early awake, bathroom duty (yes, “Duty”), small breakfast, and a small allotment of time for news of the world. Unfortunately, I receive that news from The Chair and the small allotment of time is getting bigger each day.

It wasn’t noticeable at first, the reclining just got longer and longer until one day it was time for lunch. Kidding. Any senior reading this knows urinary insecurity ruins everything and would end reclining time at some shorter, inopportune moment, but you get the point: it is a daily struggle to avoid the peacefulness, the comfort, the security, the heaven that is The Chair. And it calls my name all day, the siren call of a Naugahyde beast, though it might be real leather.

My lawyer daughter says the manufacturer can’t be sued for manufacturing such an addictive product, right after she refused an intervention to end the spiral of laziness.

When my 84 year-old mom went into the hospital for what she feared would be the end of her life, she prophetically, if enigmatically, warned me about this very thing. She was tired of being bombarded by tests and treatments no 84 year-old should have to endure when she said: “All I want to do is go home and sit in my chair one last time.”

Now, eight years later, I get it.

The addition to the morning routine, now, is the struggle to get out of The Chair and go have some fun. Do something. Pickelball. Swimming. Walking. Talk to people instead of watching them through the window. Enjoy the world.

So I make the effort every day to move from horizontal to vertical, wondering with each passing day: why bother when there is a heavenly, rocking alternative?

As the song says: “I have a feeling I am not the only one.”

Its time to talk about Trump. Donald Trump.
I’ve recreationally followed Trump for years, going back to his playboy years and marriages and scandals and Democratic activities. He was an interesting figure in New York State news, and then New Jersey news, and then reality television. As a poor man, I resented his seemingly easy path to not just untold riches but the utter and complete privilege so much wealth brings. Resented is the wrong word: I was jealous. As an anti-materialistic child of the 60s’s, the jealousy bothered me, as it revealed a desire for materialism buried deep down inside me, Oh…so for many years I was conflicted, I resented the jealousy, and was ashamed when I would admire his marital and material successes.

It feels good to confess the above, because it means I understand the man with out bias, with no preconceived notions, just a realization of exactly what he is, and isn’t.

In fact, it wasn’t even disconcerting when he changed parties, took out a full page ad asking for the Central Park Five to be executed, and pretended to be exorcised about Obama not being an American. Even when he became a candidate for President, it seemed natural. These actions are consistent with his need for attention, and his need to be heard. He did not have anything important to say, but he realized age and society were sapping his relevance, and gossip pages weren’t filling his needs, anymore. So he called attention to himself in the ways he knew and now the whole world talks about him every day. Every Hour. Every minute.

But why? You do have to admire the man for making the most of the little he was given in life. And he knew going full Mother Theresa in his later years was not for him.

Admiration. He deserves it for finding a plan and sticking to it. The plan has exceeded his wildest expectations: after calling attention to himself as president, he will have the best of both worlds after 2024. He’ll be president, again, and can pardon himself for all he has done and will do. Or he’ll lose the election but half the country will think he won, and his money and friends will keep him out of jail for all the things he has done and will do.

Genius.

And a golf clap to the American People for making it all work out.

A reader said I exaggerated the characters in the first Duh, making them look like stereotypical hicks. The reader is partly correct. Toothless really only has a partial upper plate. In the small locker room before and after he takes out the plate, puts it in a pink, plastic box, and clicks the box closed. I shouldn’t have to detail he did the reverse after his workouts. Why? Next time I see him I’ll ask and get back to everyone.

Comb over guy didn’t really have a comb-over. He just parted his hair starting at the top of his left ear and “styled” it all the way over to the top of his right ear. I’m told the style is called a Mid-Life Fade. It is not a difficult look to maintain (at least for a few moments) and in the locker room he was always pleased with himself after checking out the mirror. If there was an overhead mirror he might have thought differently.

There are probably many handsome, hirsute-y, intellectuals out there who might act the same, but the stereotype of who believes what he/she/them read on the internet is a meme because of anecdotal facts, not conjecture, in my world. (Note: anecdotal facts are the worst kind). The people I encounter who affirm publicly they are smarter than they are, are people who don’t have enough sense to take care of themselves, their teeth, their hairstyles, and their general outlook on the world. Sadly, this character–and his/her/them proclamations– have become the norm, especially in political courts of both colors. I say both colors to be fair, buy my own experience is with republicans/conservatives who are always right about a certain individual. No matter what. (See previous GMGA piece from last year.)

But it is a bad meme. I’ve known countless eccentrics, hillbillies, lazy-asses, and people who simply didn’t care how they look who were intelligent and humble more than normal. It is true you can’t tell a book by its cover, but it’s probably true, too, a bad cover probably represents a bad book.

Sorry I got lost on this…just tired. But if you ever want to proclaim in public how smart you are and how much more you know than anyone else, don’t.

The last piece I wrote about the United States of Duh was a little “ranty”. If we forget the sophistically complicated nature of discourse about fact and fiction, I still need to apologize for the basic “fact” overlooked in all serious discussions, including my article.

The fact overlooked: most people have no pride. Remember the quote about keeping your mouth shut to to remove all doubt? It does not seem to apply to Americans: they don’t care if they’re wrong and they don’t care who knows it.

How does any one reason with that?

Two guys were diatribing in my favorite gym about how foreign countries “don’t respect America, anymore.” One of the two had not replaced his teeth, yet, after his workout, and his conversational partner’s comb-over had come undone and I saw a chance to learn more about two gym guys in Upstate NY knowing how other countries feel about America. Apologies to smart people for how bullyish I sound in this discussion.

Me. “Have either of you been to another country? Talked to foreigners?”

Comb-over: “Yeah, I been to Madison.”

“Country, not county,” I had to say.

They both muttered something unrepeatable, but I pressed on: “Have you?”

Their sideways nods indicated they hadn’t.

I pressed on and asked how they know about the aforementioned disrespect. I got the Golden Answer of the uneducated.

“Everyone knows it,” said a combative Toothless. “Its all over the news.”

Amen.

PS Apologies for at least three “made-up” words. They sounded pertinentally important at the time.

A recent opinion poll showed half of Americans believe the stock market is in decline, the economy is bad, and unemployment in May of 2024 is at an all time high.

None of that is true. In fact, the opposite is true. The S and P is at an all time high, the economy is growing by 3% per quarter and unemployment is at an all time low. So what happened to that 50% of Americans who believe the untruth?

Citizens have abandoned their newspapers and legacy radio and television news programs, and have looked to the internet for information. Really, what they are looking for is “news” that fits their world view.

Here are some things citizens should consider:

Legacy media news organizations are just that: organizations. In all news offered by legacy media companies the news is investigated, analyzed, reviewed, and often edited by more than one individual, often times many eyes see the story before its offered to citizens. It delays news somewhat, but it also keeps one person’s opinions from being reported instead of the facts.

Not so, the internet. If you are educated and have some common sense, you can see how news reporting has gotten so bad: its mostly opinion, now, not fact.

It is so sad when you discuss a fact with someone and they spout internet shit without knowing what they are talking about. To all: if you don’t understand something, don’t repeat it, and DO NOT believe it. Ask. A famous man once said: “you’ll know you’re smart when you realize how much you don’t know.” Oh, and “better to keep your mouth closed and be thought a fool, that to open it and remove all doubt.”

Duh.

Certain legacy news organizations have seen this and to survive have joined the trend. Sadly, some have brazenly operated as opinion spewers instead of fact reporters and the ability to discern if a story is true is hard, especially if we don’t like what we hear.

It would behoove us all to abandon the interneters, twitters, tik tokers and the rest of the pod-casters and snake oil salesmen who spout dumb stories which become news as dumb citizens spread the false word.

Look to, and support news “organizations” with layers of review and get facts, rather than listen to a podcast full of opinion. We can debate the voracity of MSN versus Fox News next time. To be prepared to discuss both, it might be helpful to look up which one has been sued the most…and lost.

Next time.

But for now, stop believing shit you read on the internet.

The Great Relocation of 2024 (from NC to NY) has not gone as planned. Some good but some bad, too. It was never clear what would happen, or how things would go, so…meh.

Old friends in NY were supposed to be part of the future after the move. Yes, it might be more than a little misguided to think friends from 40-some years ago might still care to be friends, again, but I did not expect so many of them to be dead. Gone. No way to contact them.

One of the saddest was a really wonderful guy who’s phone number was hard to find. Last night, as I searched the internet for information, his obituary came up first. The sad part is he died 8 days ago after spending three months in the local hospital. I drove 760 miles to New York lived here for 33 days as of this writing, yet missed a connection to an old friend by less than a mile. (The distance from my Rome apartment to the hospital in which my old friend passed away. Eight days ago.)

Oddly, this all feels kind of humorous. Funny. Like the old joke about how to make God laugh.

Maybe late tonight, when I’m not sleeping, the weight of the loss will be heavier. Or I’ll feel it more when another medical professional asks me: “You live alone? Have any friends you can count on?” At a certain age, you lie to the medical people to keep from getting phone calls with strangers who say they care about you. Unless you really need that call.

For me, its off to other opportunities, other possibilities, other dramas, other illnesses, other losses. But with a renewed faith in the whimsical nature of a universe intent on being random, which means even at my age, something good is bound to happen.

In my last career as an Estate Planner, I worked with senior couples in the state of North Carolina. The majority of those couples had been together for decades, with one couple celebrating 70 years of marriage.

My own romantic life was turbulent, chaotic, and selfish until well into my 40s, with the reality of a single partner at one time becoming, finally, thankfully, the rule of my life from age 51 to the present 72. Selfishness was the main reason for all the turbulence/chaos, but so was a romantic ideal so unrealistic as to be dangerous: the concept of The One. The Hollywood movie “The One”. Sadly, I met about 20 of The Ones in my younger life. Oh, the humanity. And lawyer fees.

If we ignore the real world details of both my senior clients and my own life, does either lifestyle work best for our years leading to the end of life?

You can’t know how happy those old couples are really, and if they are unhappy its hard to blame a relationship since so much bad happens in our later years. There are too many variables: disease, dementia, arthritis, etc.

When 2023 fell apart for me, one of the casualties was the 20 year monogamous relationship that at one time I thought with all my heart would never, ever end. Again, no details, but as the 72 year old partner sees death in the road ahead, and the 63 year old partner can’t possibly understand that vision, its hard to see how the two could live together for the rest of his life. Or hers. Or both.

I’ve seen senior couples when one dies and the other doesn’t. It is one of the saddest things, ever, the loss of a love, a best friend, a partner of 40, 50, 60 years. Take 10 seconds and imagine it.

So in 2024 I made the choice to move 650 miles to a new state, be near daughters and grandchildren, and wait patiently for that which comes for all. And when it happens, these family members can be there.

But my partner of 20 years could not see how she could make the same choice.

In my new city I am not alone, but it feels like it.