The woman at the next table is gushing loudly and continuously to her friend about how brilliant her new niece is.

It turns out—and this is a big shock—babies are smart and they seem to be learning new things all the time. And, who would’ve guessed, her niece turns out to be really curious about the world around her. Who could have predicted that? Well, everyone.

You see it all the time, that sudden sense of discovery, when some random person enters a phase of life that has only been experienced by 7 billion people before. Whether it’s sex for teenagers or taxes for new jobholders, all of us are big-time explorers throughout our lives.

Perversely, even the greatest adventurers among us never actually discover anything. We just find something WE haven’t encountered before and, when we tell someone older about it, they work hard to stifle a yawn.

Been there. Done that. Welcome to the party.

Maybe it would spoil the fun, but part of me thinks we should have a giant set of spoiler alerts for people who need to know what’s around the next corner. They’d be flags more than spoilers, offering an early indicator of changes ahead. 

I think about this a lot as my grandkids get ready to experience new flume rides on their journeys from babyhood to child to teen and, if I live that long, adulthood. Should I tell them about the irritating kids they’ll meet as their social circles grow? Should I tell them about the increasingly powerful level of competition they’ll face as they get older and get thrown into bigger pools of talent? Should I try to explain puberty and hormones and their upcoming rebellion against their parents? Or, is it best to just leave it alone and let them know that it’s normal…after it happens?

Life is full of surprises, although I’m not sure we can call them surprises when most are 100% predictable. How much better might it be if we had a guidebook to let us know what’s coming up? Would it make life more manageable, make it easier to adapt, or would it take the joy out of discovery?

Without a doubt, we’d flag the negative things: the cliques they’ll encounter in high school, the friends who will walk away, the people who will be picked ahead of them. Mostly, we’d be alerting them to a million disappointments that will make them more capable as adults, but only after they’ve paid a very high price. Would they become more confident, or more fearful, as they learn which shoe will drop next?

Looking back, I wonder if I would have been able to handle some disappointments more productively if I had had some idea they were coming. Perhaps I would have thought of better responses and dealt more effectively with them, or maybe I would’ve been so overwhelmed by a looming disappointment that I would have overreacted before anything happened.

So, which is it? Do we tell our younger family members what to expect and how to deal with it or do we let them discover it on their own and, while dabbing their tears, say it was to be expected?

Looking for responses on this post, so please share your perspective. Is it better to warn them, or just let it unfold? And, while you're at it, click here to subscribe.

Our waiter retired three years ago when he couldn’t work due to Covid, but he’s back in the workforce now because inflation has been so high and the government safety net he was promised isn’t covering his lavish lifestyle.

He’d probably be blaming Joe Biden, but he lives in Istanbul and his challenge is the declining value of the Lira. The latest inflation rate in Turkey has improved to just under 50%...yes, 50%...and the Lira has declined 79%...yes, 79%...against the dollar since Joe Biden took office. It turns out that inflation isn’t just an American thing, even though we sometimes act as if we’re all alone in our suffering.

I’ve been fortunate enough to travel to many parts of the world and to meet a large number of people along the way. Whenever I get the chance, I chat one up and find out that yes, we’re all the same on many levels. Geography and culture add to the complexity of our experiences, so it’s not surprising that the Ukraine war looks much different in Poland than it does in Pennsylvania and inflation is different in Istanbul than in Iowa. Where we stand on issues depends on where we sit, sometimes literally, and we sit on a catbird seat pretty much everywhere in America.

That’s why we’re at a huge disadvantage when it comes to understanding the rest of the world. We are the 500-pound gorilla, which is a slight improvement from 800 pounds before Ozempic, but we are the one beast that cannot be ignored. Specific nations need to pay special attention to China or Russia or India or Brazil, but pretty much everyone needs to consider what the United States is doing to affect their economy and trade and military security.

We, on the other hand, don’t really need to think that much about anyone. We should, of course, because we have many serious adversaries and competitors and risks. Having a sense of what’s happening around the world would give us much-needed perspective about our local issues. But who has time to even think about any other countries when we hardly have a spare moment for our daily cat videos? And Wordle?

I'd say we're Number One and every other country is Number Two, but that would require recognizing that other countries exist. And maybe they do, at least in theory, but not in the world we Americans inhabit.

So, when the inflation goes up in the United States or products are in short supply, we tend to think it’s all about us, it is only happening here, and only our local politicians are to blame. And it’s not just inflation. Remember that Covid thing? Hundreds of countries trying to figure out how to contain it, how to protect people, how to maintain an economy in the midst of a pandemic, but we broke it down into just two perspectives: blue states versus red. It was the same thing with avian flu, just as it was with AIDS and just as it will be with whatever comes next.

Seriously, folks, we need to get out more.

We also need to get more subscribers to this incredible blog. You cannot change the world all by yourself, but you can solve at least one problem by clicking here to join our subscriber list.
 

 

I need to get more excited about life, but definitely lose my enthusiasm for almonds and eyewear, because life offers up more curves than a calligrapher…
 

• Man, overbored. Sometimes I think people are really too emotional and too excited about minor things, but it’s always possible that I’m way wrong about that one. I was watching a cooking demonstration recently, and the woman next to me was gasping as the chef put salt on the food and taking notes when he said she should “season to taste.” When I thought something was particularly boring, she was sitting there with a smile on her face and saying, “WOW.” Clearly, she’s getting a lot more joy out of life than I am.
• Fakir fakers. So, when exactly do you give up on the con? I forget which museum it was, but there’s one in Istanbul that displays a large number of seriously questionable relics, including the staff Moses held up to part the Red Sea. I couldn’t help but wonder if the sultan who accepted these gifts Sultan who accepted these gifts knew they were fake, but given in good intentions, or if he believed the certificate of authenticity, but the fact they are still on display is concerning. At this point, when it’s clear to everyone in the world that this thing we believed 500 years ago cannot be true, shouldn’t we fess up and move on?
• Water we doing? Seriously, I should never buy almonds. It takes at least a gallon of water to make one almond and, if I have an almond croissant, more fresh water than an average person drinks in a day. The same thing with walnuts and pistachios, and don’t get me started on lettuce. There’s no way to justify using all that water, plus the cost of processing, shipping, and handling at my local store. And yet, I know people who will eat this stuff and not think twice about it, even if they also think of themselves environmentally responsible.
• Megiddo moves downtown. Millions of people think Armageddon will be the final battle of good versus evil, but it turns out they’re wrong. The ultimate battle will be pigeons versus cockroaches, pitting the world’s true survivors in mortal combat. Whoever wins, it won’t be pretty for those of us who think we’re at the top of the food chain today.
• Distaff rules. There’s a museum in Athens with an exhibition that asks, “What if women ruled the world” and the program description suggest lots of rainbows and unicorns. That cannot be correct, though, since it turns out that, gasp, women are people and people are fallible. Power corrupts, and anyone who thinks that rule exempts women is denying their humanity and is a terrible sexist.
• Delayed reparations. I spent some time in Poland recently, walking past buildings still pockmarked with bullet holes 85 years after World War II. Somehow, they’ve never gotten around to repairing the concrete, which made me feel much better about my to-do list.
• Problem solved! Throughout history, the problem with the Greater Fool Theory was that, eventually, we ran out of fools. Today, though, we seem to have solved that issue.
• Not up to specs. I finally gave in and bought prescription glasses to help me read, but it’s very disappointing. I used to think I looked okay for my age, but suddenly I look so much older and have really bad skin. There should be a law against selling such defective lenses.

If I ever come to terms with my new looks, subscribers will be the first to know. Click here to join the team.

Politics is just like a basketball game and crime is an epicurean passion of mine, or so it seems this week…

• Not an average Joe. I met a guy who cried when Stalin died. He was in a Soviet grade school and his first years were filled with adoration for the man who created all that was good in his life. He knows better now, but his tale is a reminder that you’re not really an adult until you’ve unlearned a whole buncha stuff that you soaked up as a child.
  
• Truly Speck-tacular. I know cities appear as dots on a map, but I’m still surprised at how many people think Chicago actually is the size of a dot. I keep getting questions about pretty much every news item out of this town, with people wondering if it happened in my apartment.
  
• Death takes a holiday.  One of the sad facts of life in Chicago is that we have shootings every day, but wouldn’t that mean that shootings aren’t news? Maybe we should only report on crime when nobody gets shot or killed, which would have the added benefit of making us less nervous about our daily existence.
  
• Connoisseurs of Crime. Speaking of which, all the news coverage has made me a bit of an expert on the different types of crime in our town, and around the country. Just as the Inuit are supposed to have 4,000 words for snow and British comedians have 5,000 words for butts, local experts here have different classifications for crimes, and they do make a difference. There is often some overlap, but gang crimes are different from domestic disturbances, which are not the same as bar fights, hate crimes, drug crimes, generic street crime or one-offs. Some crime here is more common than in the rest of the country and some is very rare in comparison with other cities and states. Cable news treats it all the same, but that’s just laziness at work. 
  
• Double dribblers. Now that basketball season is starting again, I’m reminded how much an election race is like a basketball game. There’s all kinds of ups and downs and back and forth—and fouls—and the lead changes every two minutes. Nothing really matters until the final seconds, after all the fouls.
  
• Yes, we can. Every so often, a friend will point out something really crazy and claim, “You can’t make this stuff up.” I always wonder if they’ve ever logged onto Twitter.
  
• Decision time. A friend of mine said he cannot understand how anyone is still undecided about their vote at this point, but I run into those folks all the time. Mostly, they’re in front of me at McDonald’s, agonizing over whether to supersize their meal.
  
• Not yet. One of the most important and underused words in the English language is ‘yet.’ There’s a first time for everything and we seem to have an accelerating pattern of firsts in our unstable world. So, when people tell me social media hasn’t caused the collapse of civilization or that AI hasn’t caused nuclear power plants to explode or poor people haven’t rebelled and killed all the elites hobnobbing in in Davos, I feel compelled to remind them. Yet.
  

The guys in this picture are:
     A. Working for a living.
     B. Looking for handouts.

The guys in this picture are:
     A. Entrepreneurs starting their own business
     B. Beggars

The guys in this picture are:
     A. Prime examples of a real work ethic
     B. Disturbing the peace.

I’d say, ‘take your pick,’ but you already did that, didn’t you? We have a complicated and frequently contradictory view of people who literally take their retail business to the street. Some of us pay them to entertain us, some give them a charitable contribution, and most of us pass by with anger or embarrassment or some other emotional response. Pretty much nobody will congratulate them for pursuing the American Dream, but maybe we’re missing something here.

While I was enjoying a summer day on a bike ride, these guys were taking turns entertaining the motorists at Six Corners in Chicago. Okay, they were mostly using plastic pails as drums and not everyone was entertained, but that’s no different from any bit of street art. Some of us like it and pay for the show and some of us hate it and offer no reward, but the performers give it their all either way.

That makes their job the same as a restaurant server or a porter or a valet, doing the work with no idea whether a tip is in the offing. Capitalism is a tough town.

There’s a performing group at Walt Disney World that does essentially the same thing as my new friends on Cicero Avenue. The Disney World team has a longer performance with more people, more props and—sorry, guys—much more talent, but both groups seek to entertain us by attacking garbage cans with sticks.

Maybe one of the guys in this photo will be in Orlando one day and get discovered, earning his way to a bright musical career and some great reminiscences about his humble beginnings. Probably not, but we never know. Every super hero has an origin story and my weekend entertainment was undoubtedly part of theirs.

Sometimes, the people asking for money on the street aren’t offering anything tangible in return, although I do get the positive feeling that I’ve done something charitable, possibly heroic, when I give them a dollar. Here’s a mom with a baby, sitting on the sidewalk, looking for money to put food on the table, and I know all the reasons I shouldn’t part with my money. She might be a scammer, it might not be her kid, and giving her money only encourages her to keep begging and never get a job… Still, she’s having a worse day than I am by any measurement available and I’ll take the risk that she’s secretly a billionaire asking me to make her even richer.

The choice is easier with a street performer or a migrant mom selling water or candy outside the grocery store. Now it’s a more physical transaction, an offer of a product or a service in return for payment. As a true capitalist, I can’t help but applaud the entrepreneurial spirit, even if I don’t happen to need any more Skittles. Every sale they make, or don’t, is part of their origin story and I’m helping them to craft it either way.

Someday, maybe a couple of decades from now, my street-side drummers will be talking about our interaction on their podcast, recalling the guy who gave them ten bucks and the encouragement to continue striving for their art. Today, though, I spent $10 to get a blog idea, and that’s an investment I’ll make any day of the week.

Next week, we're taking a look at what's really newsworthy and a way to avoid a whole ton of conversation, and people who subscribe here will love it the most.

Web-surfing and puzzles are taking up way too many hours, which isn't leaving enough time to write my memoirs. Too bad, because I saved all the really good stuff for the book...

• We’re the Cheapest! There was a guy who ran a bike store in the old neighborhood who always had the lowest prices on any item you asked for, but only when it was out of stock. Once the item was on his shelves, it was a different story. I’m reminded of him every time I hear some candidate making promises about what they’ll do once they’re in office.
• Sorry about the explosion. Why is it that people in power save the really useful information for a book they won’t publish for five years and never tell us what’s what when it could make a difference? “Here’s the code that would have prevented that nuclear blast. Yeah, I could have told you before the bomb went off, but I thought it would be a great detail to save for my memoirs.”
• Why aren’t you dead yet? Some guys on Twitter keep posting about “the obituary I didn’t want to read today” and I wonder if they have a most-wanted list. Do they have people who are on the list every day or do they have specific holidays or seasons for their favorite unfavorites?
• Worse and Worser. What’s it like to be on the International Space Station and have only two options for getting home: Boeing and SpaceX? NASA was probably smart to choose SpaceX, because Boeing’s doors can fall off at any time, but a SpaceX rocket that doesn’t explode on the way up will probably be okay on the return.
• One across. I’d like to think I’m well informed, but it turns out I spend most of my time doing puzzles. I’m zipping past the headlines in the NYT to get to Connections and the first thing I read in the WaPo is Keyword. On Sundays, I settle in for the crosswords and I never quite get to page 5 of the news section. Don’t ask me what’s going on in the world, but if you need a six-letter word for excessive pride, I’m your guy.
• TMMI. Along the same lines, reading the Sunday papers takes a lot less time now that I’m no longer opening the opinion section. To be frank, I’m totally overdosed on opinions long before the weekend arrives. Whether it’s Twitter or Facebook or, increasingly, Linkedin, online visits reveal the greatest leverage of all time; 0.0001% facts transformed into 99.9999% rants.
• Talk amongst yourselves. Why is it that conspiracy theorists are so busy fighting the mainstream that they never get into battles with each other? Why don’t the people who blame Jews for 9/11 argue with the people who say it was the Bush Administration? Why don’t the people who say 100 million illegal aliens voted in 2020 argue with the people who say it was the voting machines or the people who say it was China or a wireless link from Italy or…you get the idea. The world would be a calmer place if they just fought with each other over whose conspiracy is real and left the rest of us alone.
• Class Warfare. Am I the only one whose Facebook feed is non-stop stories about some poor person or poorly dressed person who is abused while sitting in first-class on the plane, only to reveal that they are just so super-duper deserving of their seats that everyone wants to kiss their filthy—but very worthy—feet?  I think they’ve finally run out of ideas at the click-bait factory.