I owe Al Capone a big apology, and I should stop mocking that woman at the slot machine, too, as I consider all my misguided actions this week... Man, over Bourdain. It’s time to retire the Anthony Bourdain memes where he’s telling us how we should live more fully. There’s just something about life advice from a guy who took his own life that is more than misguided. It’s cruel, almost like the people posting his quotes are mocking him for not taking his own counsel. Invest in hubris! The problem with humanity is that we are smart enough to know we’re smart, but we’re not smart enough to know how stupid we still are. Archimedes figured out pi roughly 2,000 years ago, without a calculator, and the people who built the observatory at Stonehenge started work 5,000 years ago without a backhoe. If anything, we’ve just gotten dumber over time, while our hubris has exploded. Never saw it coming. Speaking of which, I spotted a dead turtle on the road during a recent bike ride and I realized it had began its day like pretty much every human. It woke up and started its daily activities with no idea that it would no longer be among the survivors that night. And homo sapiens are smarter, how? Pushing the buttons. The woman at the slot machine next to me is explaining that I’m losing money because I’m pushing the buttons wrong. Then she demonstrates how she massages them and where she pushes on each button before taking her next dollar for a spin. I’d mock her for her superstitious delusions, but she’s winning too much to listen. Big props to Al Capone. Chicago hosted a big NASCAR event over Independence Day and I read a report about how much the 2023 races added to the city’s fortunes. Surprisingly, the promoters claimed $24 million of “media value,” based on all the mentions and awareness of the city generated by news reports and such. I guess we should give more thanks to all the other people creating “media value,” including gangbangers, Al Capone, and Mrs. O’Leary’s cow. Honey trap. Do waitresses get a special license to call everyone ‘honey’??? I’m not complaining about it, because I crave the kindness, but this one seems to be unique to this very special group. Nurses, plumbers, cab drivers, cops…nobody else in the world ever calls me ‘honey,’ but waitresses seem to think it’s my first name. Just one more tweak. Every time someone comes up with a good idea, the next guy in line decides to ruin it. We need more STEM in schools—science, tech, engineering, and math—but then they made it STEAM by adding arts into the mix. And too much “arts” is the reason we needed more STEM in the first place. Acts shunned. I’m a big fan of the First Amendment—in fact, I am using it right now!!—so I don’t think anyone should lose an employment opportunity because they spoke out against the treatment of civilians in Gaza. I do think, though, that people who demonstrate bad judgment make poor employees and that many, many protestors showed abysmal judgment over this spring. Whether it was the public intimidation of Jewish students, disrupting the education of others, illegal entry, or simply demonstrating a profound lack of common sense…I’m fine with consequences for that.
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You’re going to see this lie a million times in the next few days. I encourage you to ignore it. You know what I’m talking about. It will be a post with an American Flag or a bald eagle or a picture of Mt. Suribachi, or some other patriotic image, with the same false claim: Land of the free, because of the brave. It’s a shout-out to the military and, while my respect for our Armed Forces is deep and resolute, the military isn’t the reason we’re the land of the free. Almost to the contrary, this is the land of the free because of the unassuming, the quiet, the principled and the courteous, the people who preserve our system by simply by accepting and defending its basis in fairness, flexibility, and majority rule. This country is the land of the free because we all agreed to think of democracy like a sport, with rules and winners and losers…and getting together for drinks after the game. And we agreed—or at least most of us agreed—that we’d abide by the rules and accept the outcomes because that’s the way life works. Sometimes you win and sometimes you lose, and, of course, there’s always next year. And there has always been next year for more than two centuries, which is a truly monumental achievement; even more monumental, in fact, because we didn’t ask for help from the military. As Ben Franklin told Mrs. Powel, we have, “A republic, if you can keep it.” Somehow, across nearly 250 years of mostly civil discourse, we’ve kept it without sending in the troops. We debated our neighbors and tried to sway them to see things our way, but we accepted the will of the majority whether we won or lost. We went to the polls and cast our ballots and either rejoiced or licked our wounds when it was over, and then we went back to our lives as if there was more to this world than politics. (Pro tip: There is more to this world than politics.) It’s an incredible leap of faith and civility to accept the will of the majority when you know the majority is a raving mob of idiots. It’s a magnificent display of humanity to recognize the failings of both your opponents and your compatriots, while according them equal honor as fellow citizens. It’s also an everyday thing, a constant that has sustained our freedoms more consistently and more successfully than any military intervention. Because, it’s such an everyday thing, we can forget it’s there for us to preserve, protect and defend it as if it were our birthright and our legacy. Which, of course, it is. And it’s not the military that preserves that legacy. In fact, it’s the opposite. If we need the military to get involved, we have relinquished the treasure that was passed on to our care and must be passed on again through our love of the sport known as democratic government. Protecting our legacy is getting tougher and tougher, largely because the sportsmanship ethos is fraying under the weight of Knute Rockne acolytes. The threat to our national cohesion is obvious and constant, with seemingly little awareness of the precious gift we’re squandering. And, of course, we won’t be able to replace it when its gone. We’ve called on our military only a handful of times to truly defend our freedoms, both overseas and across the Mason-Dixon line, and we can all be grateful for their successes on our behalf. Mostly, though, this is the land of the free because of everyday people who simply decided to make it so. Wishing all of them, all of us, the awareness and commitment, maybe even the bravery, to keep making it so this year and beyond. GBA. Dad would have been 100 today, so we’re having a birthday party in his honor. He can’t attend in person, but he’ll definitely be there, because we’ve incorporated his example into our lives. Now, it’s time for us to share his legacy with a generation that will never get the opportunity to meet him. Dad was nothing special and a big deal at the same time. He was born in the Depression, enlisted in the Army in World War II, started a business after the war, failed in business more often than he succeeded, raised a family, played some golf, and left the world a better place for his having been here. When he died after years of decline, the funeral home was standing room only, simply because people liked him. A lot. Maybe people liked him so much because he was more likely to offer help than to make demands. Maybe it was because he was more concerned about other people than he was worried about himself. Definitely, it was tied to his willingness to listen more than he spoke, and to offer actual wisdom worth sharing, including: Never make light of the way someone puts food on the table. Whatever job someone has, show some respect, because that job is how they are feeding their family. Nobody knows what happens behind closed doors. No matter how well you know people, you don’t know enough to make too many judgments about them. Whether it’s another couple or a close friend, there’s a part of their lives you’ll never see and realities you’ll never know. If everyone threw their problems on the table, they would see what the others were dealing with, pick up their own problems and walk away just a bit happier. This one flows from the same recognition about closed doors, but it’s also a reminder that we only think our problems are the worst because they’re OUR problems. One thing at a time. He never heard of multitasking, but he would have recognized it as BS. No matter how many times you try to shift gears, you can only do one thing at a time, so focus on the thing you’re doing and get it done right before moving on to the next item. Learn from my mistakes. I loved this one, because he was willing to open up about his errors in the interest of clearing my path. Luckily, I’ve been able to come up with millions of new mistakes since then, but I’ve only made those mistakes so my own daughters can learn a lesson. You’re welcome, girls. Right or wrong, I’m always on your side. Whether he agreed with us or not, whether we recognized it or not, he was always focused on our success. You don’t have to like it, but you have to try it. He was big on us trying new foods or activities, with the promise he wouldn’t insist we do it twice. This one backfired big time when he resisted an offer of escargot, but he finally gave in and tried it. Once. Nobody owes you anything. He included himself in this one, which seemed unusual for a parent. He said you have to be grateful for anything someone does for you, because nobody has any obligation to do it. Over years of illness, his gratitude for others’ kindness was one way he maintained his dignity. You’re not doing it for them; you’re doing it for you. I’ve written about this one before, the lesson he learned when he volunteered to help wounded veterans at the VA hospital after the war. Whenever we do something for someone else, we’re also doing it for ourselves. None of us is completely selfless, and that’s okay, but we should recognize our own self-interest in our so-called “selfless” actions. The greatest gift is time. I thought I came up with this one, but it turns out I got it from Dad. It’s absolutely true, because time is the ultimate scarce resource and we should share it as if it’s both precious and irreplaceable. Because it is. I don’t care if the car goes over a cliff as long as you’re okay. I told my kids, “I’ll never cry over a car,” but I thought I came up with that by myself, too. Turns out I’m a helluva plagiarist. Don’t force it. Whenever we’re trying to fix something and we hit a snag, our standard response is to push harder, but that’s also how we end up breaking things. This one started out as advice about physical repairs, but it applies to relationships, too. Don’t run with your hands in your pockets. Autobiographical, since he lost half of his tonsils while running with a pea shooter in his mouth. When you take something apart, line up the pieces in order so you know how to get them back together again. This was one of the first life hacks and we didn’t even have the internet yet. I’ve probably forgotten a few of Dad’s lessons here, but the family will remind me when we get together for his birthday party today. We’ll have the opportunity to honor someone who added to our lives, pass along the wisdom that he shared with us, and give each other the greatest gift: time. Next week, I debate black holes with a cosmologist from Amsterdam. Really. You’ll want to subscribe so you don’t miss my brilliant insights into dark matter and scientific progress. There was this guy who I liked a lot who gave me a major boost in life, and then he screwed me royally and sent me on a major downward spiral. I miss him a lot, and I resent him like crazy, without any contradiction in having both emotions at the same time. There’s a guy I like a lot, although we disagree on almost everything and he has a tendency to lecture me about my lapses in judgment. Actually, there are a bunch of guys like that. Some think I’m too liberal and some think I’m too conservative and all of them know I’d be better off if I recognized the truth that only they possess and follow their lead. Relationships are complicated that way. We all have somebody in our lives, most likely several somebodies, who give and take, build and destroy, advance and retard. People will ask why we still engage with them and we’ll shrug and say there’s more positive than negative. At the same time, people will ask why they still engage with us and they’ll shrug and say there’s more positive than negative. And we’ll both be right about that balance. We forgive their trespasses and they forgive ours, because that’s what it takes to maintain a relationship. We tell the critics they don’t really know the person, when in fact they do, just as we do, and we let it go. We’ll save our vitriol and condemnation for some stranger who uses the wrong word in a post, because that’s who we are now, but we’ll let it slide for the people who make us laugh or make us feel safe or, at least, share some of their fries. Nothing’s going to change, at least 99.99% of the time, because we’re all human and have our opinions and we’ve mostly given up on the idea of bringing the other person into the light. And we live with it, or else we would have no friends at all. Because, let’s face it, we can’t find people who agree with us about everything, even if we dive into the deepest silo. Still, it does happen from time to time that an opinion changes and a position shifts. It’s seldom a U-turn, but no less real. The other guy is suddenly saying things closer to your view of the world and, while they’ll deny it, they’re finally, finally listening to reason. Yes, it’s rare, but it’s oh, so rewarding. Maybe they’ve grown as a human being, maybe my incredible wisdom is sinking in, maybe I’ve started a ripple effect that will change the world. And maybe I’m kidding myself. You never know. In the meantime, maybe they’ll share some of their fries. Just in case one of these unnamed people decides to save the world and gives me 100% credit for their transformation, you’ll want to be a subscriber who hears about it right away. Just click here to make it so. Look, I’m really sad for all the ink-stained wretches who are losing their jobs at every newspaper and magazine in the universe and I’m even sad for some of the talking heads on, um, what’s that…oh, right, the nightly news. And, yes, I know it’s a danger to our democracy when everyone is using AI to simply copy and rewrite everyone else’s reports and the only actual reporter left in the world is some guy named Jimmy who lives in his mom’s basement in Peoria. Sad as I am, though, they brought it on themselves, and I’m not referring to any political or cultural bias, real or imagined, that permeates their reporting. Nope, they brought it on themselves by being really stupid. News coverage is supposed to be about something new, which should be really obvious to everyone working in the NEWS business. Maybe we should call it the No, Duh Business or the Captain Obvious Business, though, because I’m not learning anything new these days. Instead, here are some of the news stories I’ve been reading over the past several weeks:
That gap isn’t limited to politics. I’m reading too many sports stories that provide color and background and opinions and projections, but I’ll search in vain for the final score of the game. How hard would it be to change “the Bears’ loss,” to “the Bears’ 43-6 loss” or “the Bears’ 57-6 loss” or “the Bears’ 63-3 loss?” I know the Bears lost, as always, but it would be useful to know how badly. Fortunately, we don’t simply whine about problems at Dad Writes. Well, mostly we whine and also moan and kvetch, but we also come up with solutions to the world’s woes, and the failing media are no exception. Here’s how to turn things around, if it’s not too late already:
What industry will we save next? Click here to subscribe and just watch for the news. . A friend of mine died more than a year ago, but I was too busy to notice. We worked together for a while, stayed in touch over the years, saw each other every six months or so, and then the visits became less frequent. We moved into the city, he and his wife moved farther into the suburbs, we’d find opportunities to meet in the middle somewhere, but neither of us pursued the connection with the utmost zeal. Then he took ill, an increasingly common development as my friends and I get older. I went out to visit, as he couldn’t drive anymore, and we had a couples dinner or two, but that was clearly a long, long time ago. I knew he was getting worse, I wrote myself a note to check in on him, and then I made another note and another. I never actually checked in, but I was very diligent about writing new notes. And one day, it was too late. Not that I knew about it, since I was so busy writing reminder notes. I thought about the challenges his wife was facing, I thought about his descent into a hellish disease, I thought about the small support a check-in call might offer. But there’s a huge difference between thinking and doing and I didn't bridge the gap. Since the days when everyone lived in the same cave and spoke the same five words, it has never been easier to stay in touch than it is today. We can Zoom or conference, text or email, make a phone call or jump in a ride-share 24/7. And yet, it seems we are more distanced in many ways, unable to find the time or the drive to connect. Sometimes we spend more time making the plans than we actually spend together. Sometimes, we spend more time writing reminders to ourselves than we’d need to make the damned call. There’s always tomorrow, until there isn’t. In this case, nearly 600 tomorrows have elapsed since the last one that might have mattered. I have no idea what I would have said on the call I never made. People sometimes say it’s important to say goodbye, but that always seems more of a benefit to the person who’s staying than for the one about to depart. The visitor checks a box, while the patient knows they will never hear from their contact for as long as they live. I’ve done the last-goodbye visit more than once and I’ve always felt it was the right thing to do in the specific circumstances with the specific people. Usually, I try to avoid any indication that I don’t expect to return, even if we both know it’s the final conversation. This time was different, because I didn’t bother at all. Now I’m wondering if I should do anything or let it lie. Should I call his widow and express condolences, or does my lengthy absence make things worse? “Yes, I ignored you and your husband, my friend, for so long that he died more than a year ago and I never even noticed, but isn’t it great that I’m noticing now?” Does it reopen a wound to remind her of the people who didn’t show up when it mattered? Am I calling to help her or just to assuage my own guilt? Or, does any expression of sympathy help with the healing, even if it comes much too late from a pretty crappy friend? Gotta ponder that for a while. Maybe I’ll write myself a note. |
Who writes this stuff?Dadwrites oozes from the warped mind of Michael Rosenbaum, an award-winning author who spends most of his time these days as a start-up business mentor, book coach, photographer and, mostly, a grandfather. All views are his alone, largely due to the fact that he can’t find anyone who agrees with him. Archives
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