Sometimes, I am simply mesmerized when I’m sitting at a bar and there’s a hundred bottles of not-beer on the wall, a dizzying assortment of gins and whiskies and vodkas and tequilas and aperitifs and digestives and fancy hooch in magical bottles that Aladdin would covet. 

And I marvel at all the delivery systems on display for one active ingredient.

Alcohol is one of the most intriguing substances on earth, beginning with its beginnings. We can only imagine the excitement as Caveman Grunk ran to his friends and announced, “Look. That bird just ate those rotten berries and he fell on the ground and a snake ate him. We should eat those berries, too.”

Being an early humanoid required constant vigilance and anything that reduced your ability to focus could be pretty deadly, but that didn’t stop our fearless forebears from finding new ways to make and guzzle hooch. Since our earliest pre-history, alcohol consumption has been a driving force of—and against—civilization.

Through the millennia, moms have cautioned their children not to let food go to waste, while the truly visionary alchemists let the food rot until it turned into something much more interesting. Whether they focused on honey or rice or wheat or barley or grapes, they found a way to build the buzz around their buzz.

Wine makes the most sense, I suspect, since it is basically the archetype of rotten berries and it has enough sugar in it to taste okay. And once those wily monks of the Middle Ages found a way to insert wine into their religious rituals…Ka-Ching!…all of us were hooked. “Yes, we make the wine and, yes, you will burn in hell if you don’t drink it as we instruct. Was there a question?”

Outside of religious practices, wine has evolved into a religion of its own, with all kinds of rules and rituals and taboos and hierarchies. And, to be frank, a lot of it is both pretentious and weird. I would never bite into a piece of chalk or oak bark or peat, and I definitely don’t chew tobacco, but I’m supposed to taste all of that in my wine and go, “Yummmmm?” If you close your eyes, you can hear Dom Perignon chuckling in his grave.   

While wine is usually tolerable for almost everyone, most other kinds of alcohol are what we call, um, an “acquired taste,” the stuff that makes you wanna holler hi-de-ho. I drink bourbon, and scotch, and an occasional Slivovitz, but I promise I am not doing it for the taste.

No, I’m doing it for the sophistication. If I drink enough bourbon and I can tell the difference between Swampmash, Swampmash Barrel Strength, Swampmash Reserve and Swampmash 62, I will have a “sophisticated palate.” And, outside of curing cancer and inventing sliced bread, there’s nothing more admirable than having a sophisticated palate.

So I have been trying, almost every day, sometimes three or four or fourteen times a day, striving to discern the difference between Malbec and Malpeque, between Pinot Grigio and Topo Gigio, maybe even between Claret and Claritin. Perhaps, one day, I will look at the magic wall behind the bar and I’ll know whether to order my martini shaken or stirred.

In the meantime, I will silently envy the sophisticates who can find the perfect wine for veal Prince Orloff or the best beer to match with beef jerky. Someday, somehow, I will win my seat at their table.

It’s likely to be a long time before I am a true sophisticate, but it takes no time to become a subscriber just by clicking here.

After so many people made a fortune by following my investment advice a few weeks ago, I’ve been getting all kinds of inquiries about how to deal with inflation.

Well, you’ve come to the right place. I waited in line to get a 12% mortgage back in 1985, and I once had a CD that paid 16% interest, so I am absolutely the guy to teach everyone how to deal with rising prices. Unlike all those so-called “experts” with their fancy “degrees” and years of “experience” in financial markets, I am a self-taught genius who does my own research. So, what do you want to know?

What’s the real cause of all this inflation?

Covid vaccines.

What? How could Covid vaccines cause inflation?

Just look at the facts here and it’s obvious. We were all dealing with Covid in 2020 and inflation was low, sometimes negative. Then, we started getting all those “free” vaccines in 2021 and, BAM!!! Suddenly, the CPI jumped 4% in March, 6% in May, 7% in July. The more people got vaccinated, the more inflation soared. Coincidence? I think not.

Wait, what if  it was a simple matter of people getting out more and spending more and overloading the supply chain?

Hah! You’re one of those people who still believes in supply and demand? Where do you guys come from? In fact, there were a ton of shortages in 2020, but the only one we noticed was toilet paper. Nobody cared that the shelves were empty until they took the vaccines and, then, it was like Wile E. Coyote suddenly looked down. Shortages didn't cause inflation until they started forcing us to get vaccinated.

Well, maybe, but didn't all those $trillion budget deficits play a part in creating too much demand?

Absolutely not. Yes, the federal government has spent $6 trillion more than they took in since the pandemic began, but there is absolutely no reason whatsoever to believe that swollen pustule of largesse had anything whatsoever to do with raising demand and prices for anything whatsoever. Whatsoever.

On the other hand, I heard from a friend of a friend that it’s all Joe Biden’s fault.

Your friend is 100% right. Donald Trump pushed for Operation Warp Speed to create the vaccines, but he was smart enough not to create a distribution plan for them once they were developed. Then Biden got in and ruined the whole thing by distributing vaccines and causing huge inflation.

No, I meant I heard it was his fault because oil prices are higher.

Well, oil prices are higher across the world because people are getting out more, driving more, flying more, and buying more fuel. But that would never have happened without those dagnabbed vaccines, which are absolutely Biden’s fault.

So when will all this inflation subside?

Not for a long while, because we’ve added several new problems to the list. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine is affecting global food prices and there’s a new avian flu that’s killing millions of chickens, and we can expect more supply chain problems because China is closing half the country due to a new Covid outbreak…so don’t expect lower prices for food or any of the crap you buy on Amazon.

Oh, and you should know that OPEC and major oil companies have decided to keep supplies low so they can maximize their prices, so don’t expect a ton of relief at the pump either. Basically, consumers are screwed.

But what about investors? Maybe I could make some money off all this economic turmoil by buying some stocks.

Absolutely not! When inflation goes up, the Federal Reserve raises interest rates to slow demand, which is bad for business and causes stocks to go down. Sell, sell, sell.

Okay, I will sell all my stocks.

Absolutely not! When the Fed overshoots and causes a recession, Congress will pump an extra $trillion or two into the economy to boost demand and stock prices will soar. Hold on to all your shares and buy more, more, more.

Will do! Should I also buy bonds to take advantage of higher interest rates?

Are you crazy??? When the Fed raises interest rates, bond prices go down and you’ll lose money.

So I should sell my bonds?

Are you crazy??? When the Fed overshoots and causes a recession, interest rates will plunge and the price of your bonds will skyrocket. Hold on to all your bonds and buy more, more, more.

All of this is getting way too confusing. Isn’t there some simple way for me to make a killing right now?

Did I mention that I’m selling NFTs of my kids’ old art projects? Absolutely guaranteed to be worth ten times as much in 2023 as they're worth today and I guarantee you will never owe capital gains tax when you sell them. Even better, you can buy as many as you want, since quantities aren’t limited at all. Just send me your cash and I’ll handle all the details.



I only think I’m supposed to mention that your results may vary and that you should ask for a prospectus before investing, but I definitely know to tell you that you should click here to subscribe.
 
 
 
 
 
 

So this is mom’s life, reduced to a dozen boxes on the garage floor, remnants and relics from a 93-year journey that touched eleven decades and, somehow, ended prematurely.

Not everything in the boxes was even hers, really. At least a few containers hold the photos and memories she inherited from those who preceded her, keepsakes for her to preserve and, ultimately, relinquish to another generation.

I keep thinking there should be more, although it’s not likely that any added possessions would fill the empty space. In the end, it’s just stuff. Even the stuff that seems important, the stuff I’d want to hold onto, only has meaning in the context of memories. Like the photos on my wall and the resale-shop rejects on my desk, they remind me of a story that I like to retell, even if it’s only to myself.

There’s the owl figurine from my old partner, the clock from my grandmother’s apartment, the binoculars dad brought back from the war…and now, a porcelain monstrosity from mom’s collection of giraffe figurines. This one is truly hideous, but she liked it and it reminds me of her fixation with the original vegans.

That’s the thing about possessions. They have function, most of the time, but they don’t have any meaning until they tell a story, spark a memory, or preserve a connection between people or lands or eras. I’m beginning to appreciate my kids’ view of all this, resistant to my offers of all the incredibly  valuable, heirloom-quality stuff that has no emotion, no blood, for them.

I felt that way, as well, when we went through the curio cabinet, wondering why she chose some of the stuff that made it to the display while other items served their solitary confinement in the back of a drawer. Why are these Match Box cars in here, and what’s the deal with that clown figurine? Why is this vase so special,  but not that one over there in the kitchen cabinet? Without that insight, there is no connection.

No meaning.

No value.

That’s why he most important thing you can make in life isn’t money. It’s memories. Family dinner, vacation trips, visits to the zoo, or pretty much any other shared time will do the trick. Time is the greatest gift and some of the best stories begin, “Do you remember when…?”

In the end, it’s all about the memories, the experiences, the images that set us off on a journey to a long-ago time. This isn’t a drafting table; it’s a visit to my dad’s office. This isn’t an owl figurine; it’s my friend, Ron. This isn’t a mechanical toy; it’s my brother, David.

And now there’s a really, really, really weird looking giraffe.

Hi, mom. Say, do you remember when...?

Before you run off to make your own memories today, be sure to click here to subscribe.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
It takes a lot to shock me these days, but my friend threw me for a loop over breakfast the other day and I had to wonder if I’d actually heard him correctly.

“You know,” he said, “we’re living in an age of miracles.”

We had been discussing advancements in medicine, from diagnostics to surgeries and the technologies that allow vaccines to target specific cells or RNA strands. I had to agree with his assessment about the benefits ahead, but that wasn’t what really had me stunned.

Slowly, it began to sink in that this was the first time in months, maybe years, that I’d heard a statement so positive, enthusiastic and appreciative about world developments. As I absorbed that reality, I was overwhelmed by the chasm. Had it really been that long since I’d heard something that optimistic about the world around us? Had it been that long since I, myself, had expressed such a positive view?

Sadly, the shocking answer was, “Yes.”

I started scrolling back through recent conversations, then more distant ones, until I couldn’t remember any specifics, but I drew a blank. Is it possible that we’ve all forgotten how to be optimistic? Have we lost all hope for the future? Are we fighting interminable battles with no conviction that we can ever win the war, or that we’ll even be happy if we win it?

No question, the last several years have been rough. From a shortage of jobs to a shortage of workers, from deflation to inflation, from the promise of freedom to the relentless tyranny of technology, from the social contract to the tribal exclusions, we have been through the wringer. Each of us has lost friends, each of us has absorbed shocks, and each of us has paid a price for the force-fed lessons of our shattered society.

And now, are we shattered as well? Are we so far gone that we cannot muster enthusiasm for the future on any level? Is the abyss gazing back and savoring its victory?

I can’t help but see us turning into a nation of cranky, miserable old men, well past our prime, aging beyond our ambitions, focusing on the disappointments of the here and now to the exclusion of our future potential. I see us traveling a joyless road by choice, through habit, almost unaware that we have the option to take a different path.

Wonder, awe, enthusiasm, optimism…perhaps these are muscles that atrophy without an occasional workout. It’s possible we’ve been exercising a different set of muscles for so long that we need a refresher course on how to see the light.

I know it’s not going to be easy to break free of our nearly nihilistic worldviews, to see the sunlight piercing through the cloud instead of focusing on the cloud itself. We’ve been savoring our despair for so long that we don’t seem to recognize anything else. That’s a habit, though, not a requirement, and habits can be broken.

One positive thing today. One positive thing tomorrow. They’re baby steps, but that’s how all of us begin our journeys.

If you don’t think we live in an age of miracles, think about the miracle of receiving a weekly message from Dad Writes, available to anyone who clicks here to subscribe.

Why are we paying people to preserve our problems, and the business that Covid won’t kill, plus much more today at…

1. By the time you figure out what you want to do with your life, it’s too late. Yes, there are a handful of people who know their destiny from birth, but almost all of us bounce around from mistake to mistake as we try to make sense of it all. We end up in jobs we never heard of when we were kids, working with technologies and jargon that didn’t exist when we were born, following the path of least resistance more than we’re following our dreams. And yet, miraculously, I don’t know many people who are consumed by regret about dreams abandoned, about roads not taken. For the most part, we make the best of things and figure out a way to be happy, or at least satisfied, with whatever results we can carve out of our lives. 
   
   
2. I really miss clocks in diners. It used to be so easy to go to lunch with someone and check the time when you got bored with them. Just look over to the wall where the clock was, ask, “Have you seen our server?” and you knew what you needed to know. Now, you have to look down at your phone and everyone knows you’re counting the minutes until you can leave. 
   
   
3. All the first cousins took a tour of Chicago a while back, visiting all the places our grandparents and parents lived and worked and went to school as they built a life for us to inherit in this country. Of course, we had to imagine a lot of it, since pretty much every spot is now a Starbucks. 
   
   
4. When a show gets delayed by some news or other development, why don’t DVRs adjust and record the show at whatever time it actually starts? With all the technology advances in the world, this one seems to be so obvious and, to my uninitiated eye, so simple. There must be more to it, though, since we’ve been recording shows for four decades and we haven’t figured out how to make it work. 
   
   
5. If you’ve ever wondered why nothing gets done around here, consider the perverse incentives that drive our search for solutions. Customer service reps get better reviews if they get you off the phone quickly than if they actually solve your problem. Pharmaceutical companies make more money treating diseases than they do by curing them or, worse, preventing them in the first place. Politicians raise tons of money complaining about problems, while the coffers dry up after they’ve actually solved any of them. Think of almost any business/profession/venture where nothing seems to get resolved and you’ll probably find someone being rewarded for the wrong thing.
   
   
6. Sometimes people just give you a one-word answer to a question and you know that's an answer they give by reflex. I mentioned the homeless problem to a friend and, immediately, the guy said "welfare," as if he knew all the details. I asked about customer retention at a business and the owner said, "trust," although he has never actually measured trust among customers or whether they trust him more than they trust his competitors. I guess it’s easier to know all the answers if you don’t actually need to think about the questions.
   
   
7. We made sure to take our grandkids to the racetrack in Arlington Heights before it closed for good, and we took them to the Ringling Bros. circus before they bit the sawdust, as well. I doubt they’ll remember any of it when they’re older, but I’m hoping I get some points for giving them the chance to say they went there and did that. I’m sure it will be as impressive as when I tell Gen Xers that I saw a concert with Gerry and the Pacemakers. 
   
   
8. I went to a movie theater a few weeks ago because it was one of those films that you really want to see on a big, big screen. After paying for the tickets and parking and popcorn, we watched 30 minutes of ads and previews before the film started. When the theater goes out of business, they’ll blame Covid.

 
We have no ads at Dad Writes and no charge for parking, either. That’s why everyone should subscribe by clicking right here right now.

It’s time to admit we made a big mistake and just start over. And I’m not talking just about Western Civilization here. This problem is global and it’s costing us billions in lost productivity and waste every day.

Yes, we're talking about the stuff we use to shovel food into our faces, the hoity toity pointy things that separate us from the savages who eat with their hands. We’re talking about forks and knives and spoons, of course, and especially the worst invention of all time, chopsticks.

Yes, there’s history and tradition and folklore at stake, but it’s best to fess up now and move on. We made a mistake, we can fix it, and we can do better in the future.

Let's start with forks, which are a perfect example of too many options and no real differences. We’ve got salad forks, dinner forks, fish forks, oyster forks, pasta forks, even ice cream forks, and basically they’re all just sticks with extra points. Skewer the food, put it in your piehole and chew. Why make it more complicated than that?

Our most frequent plague is the salad fork, which offers no benefit whatsoever. They’re smaller than dinner forks, as if that makes some functional difference, and they’re absolutely useless for eating salad the way it’s made today. There was a time when salads were all the same...tiny pieces of lettuce with a chopped tomato tossed in for color. Now, your typical piece of “salad” is a whole spinach leaf that you have to fold over twenty times before it becomes a bite-size morsel. Try picking one up with a salad fork and you have to keep shoveling in the pieces still hanging after the first two feet get past your lips. Tongs would work much better, if you ask me.

Then there’s the butter knife, which is designed for the stick butter nobody uses anymore,. We’re all using whipped butter now, but butter knives are still too long to fit into the tub to scrape out a serving and they’re pathetic at spreading the butter anywhere.

Teaspoons are just plain silly, since sugar comes in packets, not bowls, and stirring our tea is an archaic affectation of the landed gentry. And don’t get me started on soup spoons, those gigantic shovels that are so big they leave half the soup stranded in the bowl. I think Mad Magazine invented a combination soup spoon/straw that should have caught on decades ago, if we weren’t so fixated on custom that we can’t change for the better. Now is the time, friends, even though straws are on the defensive in our fight to save the sharks.

Table knives? What’s the point? You can cut the soft items with the edge of your fork—even if it isn’t exactly etiquette 101—and they’re not sharp enough for anything that actually requires cutting. Why not just change the name of steak knives to dinner knives and save us all a ton of time and aggravation. Also, one less piece of inventory we’ll need to keep on hand in the kitchen drawer and one less item on the bridal registry.

And then there’s chopsticks. Yes, I know, ancient traditions, cultural touchstones, yada yada. But, really, let’s get real. They’re sticks. As bad a job as the rest of the world has done in designing stuff to get food into our gullets, these are not exactly Asia’s finest contribution to civilization. I use them when I’m eating Chinese food, but I have yet to find a meal where a fork would not work just as well or better. And, well, they’re sticks.

In fact, the perfect food for chopsticks isn’t Asian at all. It’s Cheetos. The worst thing about eating Cheetos is that the “cheese” crumbs and grease get all over your hands. You can’t eat them with a fork or spoon, but with chopsticks? Problem solved.

So maybe we don’t need to get rid of chopsticks, or salad forks, or soup spoons, but a whole ton of repurposing is definitely in order. Where are all those out-of-the-box thinkers when we need them? The last great invention in eating utensils was the spork, and we’ve all aged a ton since then.

Meanwhile, try the veal.

What household items will drive us to fits next? The only way to find out is to subscribe by clicking here, and then wait until we’re off our meds.