I’ve waited a month to speak out on this subject. A little over a month ago, Nikolas Cruz killed seventeen people in a Florida school. Fifteen of them were children. Maybe it’s time we did something.

I don’t want to argue about gun control. If you’re reading this, you have your own opinions. I don’t want to hear from the children. We are the responsible adults. That’s why we refer to them as children. I don’t often take advice from them because they don’t know enough. For example, our children might demonstrate in our own homes, wanting to keep hand grenades under their beds and a grizzly bear in the back yard, but we as responsible adults will probably say “Maybe next year.” And that’s as it should be. It’s our job to keep them alive until they look and sound and act like responsible adults. This is why we don’t let them vote or drive automobiles. Decision-making is not their job—it’s ours. We do these things because we love them.

I think most of us can agree on that, regardless of our political or societal leanings. Those who don’t are probably the people we need to worry about. What follows is personal opinion. I hope my local community will agree with it—quickly. The way things are going, a school shooting in St. Joseph is not a matter of if–it’s a matter of when.

Let’s divide school shootings into three timeframes:

1. Everything we talked about and did prior to the incident.
2. The ten seconds during which an active shooter walks into a classroom with one teacher and thirty children.
3. Everything we talk about and do after that.

I’d also like to divide our response to the shootings into two phases:

1. What we need to do NOW.
2. What we can do LATER.

I don’t know about you, but I hate the idea that our schools must become armed fortresses. But I have come around to the undeniable fact that, at this point in time, it must be done. So that belongs in Phase One.

There are opinions out there stating that we need to determine what’s causing the problem. I agree with that. I’ve got my own opinions and my list would probably begin with broadcast, written and social media. We have somehow created in young minds the notion that shooting up a school—committing murder– is a viable way to make a statement. My wife, who was a teacher for many many years, tells me I should add violent computer/phone games to that list. I suspect she’s right. There are other likely suspects—mental illness and a cornucopia of drugs, legal and illegal, currently in use. You can add to the list; this is certainly not the full spectrum of likely culprits. This all belongs in Phase Two.

The good news is that Phase Two and Phase One can begin immediately. It’s possible that if Phase Two is successful, we might be able to do away with Phase One eventually.

Phase One will likely cause some of you to disagree.

I believe we should implement armed guards in our schools. Immediately.

I believe we should implement a policy which requires every teacher to have a gun in the classroom, stored in a biometric gun safe or other storage method so the teacher can get to it quickly and which also safeguards the children—you can work out the details on that.

I believe every teacher should be required to train in gun safety and use—and re-qualify on a regular basis.

I do not believe any teacher should ever be required to use that weapon. Its use must remain a matter of choice.

Before the anti-gun readers shoot my head off, let me explain my reasoning.

I know a couple who are educators. It so happens they don’t own guns, don’t want guns in their homes and have said to me that they could never, under any circumstances, shoot someone–even a deranged and active shooter in their school.  I believe they are sincere and I believe that is their rightful choice.

Remember those three time frames above? Number One is irrelevant and Number Three belongs in Phase Two. The only things that matter are those ten seconds in the middle.

I want them to have the weapon, the training and the choice, regardless of their decision. I’ve never been shot at, but I suspect that, given no other alternative, with thirty little lives at stake, I might do something I didn’t expect me to do. I might use that weapon selfishly, since my life is thrust into the bargain. But given no other choices, I might trade that life for theirs. I’m pretty sure I can do heroic things if I’m really scared.

Is it possible that teachers could kill or injure children? Yes. Yes it is, and ultimately, the horrible statistic might be one dead and the remainder saved. At times like these, I hate math, but I would think that, given the circumstances, our courts would be forgiving.

One more thing: I’m tired of hearing about guards who lose their nerve and run away, if that’s what happened. A lot of us, including me, can suddenly be cowardly when bullets are flying and we’re not cornered with children in those fateful ten seconds.

 

 

Tonight the annual Academia Awards will be on the television.

I’ll be watching, as I have for over fifty years.  I always say I’m not going to, but I love great acting and I can’t help it and I want to see who wins.  So I indulge myself in the same way that I eat things I shouldn’t.

Why do I do this? I’m not sure, but it seems like a habit to me.  I don’t think actors and artists should use this platform for their political beliefs.  On the other hand, I think they’re entitled to do it if they want to, same as me.  It’s the law; the very first item in the Bill Of Rights.

You have to read between the lines in that Bill Of Rights.  The people who wrote this thing were slippery if you ask me.  They said we can, but they didn’t say we should.  They didn’t tell us we have to deal with the results.  And if you check the dictionary, that falls under something called responsibility. It’s probably under maturity too.

I’m just trying to be logical here.  Lots of people feel differently about political issues.  So if a well-known actor takes a public stand on those issues, a portion (probably a significant portion) will disagree.  In terms of what they call a “bankable star,” an actor who producers and directors love to cast in their next movie, this is like cutting off an arm or a leg.  And each time they speak, it continues to chip away at their bargaining power.  If they continue to take sides, people tend to stop listening, so that’s like taking their mouth away.  Now I’m just a community theatre actor, but I know it’s hard to act without arms and legs and mouths.

So the bottom line is that it’s just silly for a well-known actor to speak in ways that are devisive or contentious.    They are famous because of their ability to act and yet they diminish themselves by choosing to say things they didn’t have to say.

I know a guy who is a master carpenter.  He is an artist in wood.  He doesn’t talk politics and he doesn’t have political signs plastered all over his shop and he doesn’t throw his political opinions onto Facebook.  And of course he doesn’t do that because his customers don’t want to hear his political opinions.  They want beautiful bannisters and cabinets.  I’m sure he has an opinion, but his decision to put a lid on it was a no-brainer.  People think of him as mature and responsible.

I’ve loved movies all my life.  I have always marveled at great actors.  I’ll continue to watch these people do the thing they do best.  I’ve learned how to not listen to them when they win an award.  It’s called a MUTE button.  Mary and I use this device to voice our opinions in the privacy of our home.  No one can hear us, unless you count Alexa.  She apparently doesn’t have a political bone in her body.  I can tell when the actors are done talking, because they hold the trophy up and walk away, apparently very proud that they’ve just lowered their salary.

The stock market has been in freefall for a week or so.

I get up every morning and look at it, which depresses me.  So I get some coffee and wait about five minutes and check it again.  Seems like it went down a little while I went for the coffee.  I always tell myself that I should stop looking at it, but I usually sneak in once or twice more during the day, just to see how bad it is.

Saint Mary and I are investors.  We’re not “day traders” or stock adventurists by any stretch. In more fortunate times, like the past year or so, we’ve taken any profits and re-invested.  We’ve never spent a dime of it.  That may seem overly-conservative to some, but we own our home, thanks mostly to her doubling down on the payments for many years.  It’s a good feeling.

What’s causing this recent “correction,” as they like to call it?  I can listen to any number of talking heads on the news and get their opinions.  I like to listen to them, and then turn off the television and ask myself if it made sense.  I’m not an expert, of course, but I keep getting this feeling that their ideas are no better than mine.  So I’ll give you mine.  Then you can turn me off and ask yourself if it made any sense.

The stock market rides on top of the economy.  The economy, in the short view, is good. The long view isn’t as pretty.  It ain’t rocket science; you can’t spend more than you earn. If you think you can, well, there’s a lot of people out there today who agree with you, and I’d like to see all of your math grades.  But the national debt is grist for a different day.

Some people think the market highs and lows are all due to Trump.  I think they’re due to trust. There are probably lots of different kinds of people in the market, but I like to think of three groups.  Group One are the people who pour tons of money into the market, sell when it’s high and buy it all up again when it’s low.  They’re having fun right now and I’m not in this group.

Group Two are the people who are frightened and selling every stock they own.  Group One likes these people.  Group One may have started the selling, but it was all done to scare Group Two and get the selling started.  Group Two is not having fun right now.  I’m not in this group either.

Group Three is where I call home.  Saint Mary and I didn’t invest in the market to make billions of dollars.  That would be nice, but we invested for our children.  I’m not sure the other groups know the meaning of the word investment, but they can look it up.  You may be in Group Three.

Group Three knows what Group One is up to.  Group Three will sit tight while Group One buys up the market from Group Two at bargain basement prices.  And eventually, Group Three’s value will rise again like the fabled Phoenix from the flames of its pyre.  Won’t happen overnight, but it’ll happen, sure as you’re reading this.

Group One will be fabulously wealthy or deeply in debt.  Group Two, who knows? Group Three will be fortunate and have time to do the things they intended without checking the stock market every five minutes.  They have realized that time is more valuable than money.

 

 

My good friend Rick Lee and I are spacemen.

We’ve never walked on the moon or actually participated in an EVA. Technically, we’ve never crawled into a lunar module, or transmitted a Christmas message as we orbited the moon. We’ve never been in ticker-tape parades, waving at the adoring crowds.

Fact is, nobody has ever asked us to be astronauts, but we’re still willing. Since we were kids, we’ve watched the space program since they were putting monkeys up there. We watched as Al Shepard spent the first fifteen minutes in space in 1961. We knew that Gus Grissom either did or didn’t blow the hatch and lose the Liberty Bell 7 to the ocean depths. We listened as John Glenn went from Godspeed to Zero G and around the earth. And all the others.

We’ve talked about this many times and agreed that, if they would only ask us, we’d go to space right now. We would drop what we’re doing and be at Cape Canaveral or Cape Kennedy, whatever it is today, ready to kick back in those seats and say cool things like “Let’s light this candle.”

Rick and I are believers.  For about fifty years, it seems to us that space exploration has become dull and boring to a younger generation. If we mentioned it, they would look at us as though we were talking about whether the Lindbergh boy would make it or not. That got me to thinking. The time between the Lindbergh flight and the moon landing was 42 years. The time between the moon landing and today is 48 years. It’s no wonder they look at us like we have six heads. We probably sound like Gabby Hayes in an old western.

Elon Musk could change all that. Two days ago, he launched the SpaceX Falcon Heavy into space. The two rocket boosters detached and made soft landings—right on the bullseye. And literally on top of that, he put a Tesla Roadster, complete with a dummy spaceman, in outer space. I’ve seen the pictures. That brand new automobile is floating out there like who wouldn’t have it.  It was supposed to sail to Mars, but it’s off course and likely headed to an asteroid belt. Some experts say it’ll be destroyed by micrometeorites and radiation.

I wish Elon Musk had talked to me. I would like to have a Tesla Roadster. I looked up the price. They say it’s $109,000. Now I have a perfectly sound 2002 Ford Explorer sitting in my driveway, just longing to go Mars or an asteroid belt. To look at it, you’d think it already has micrometeorite experience. I have checked with Rick, and he doesn’t want to ride in it on terra firma, much less outer space.  It leaks oil and the shocks aren’t good, but I think it could’ve made the trip. I would have gladly traded this car to Elon Musk in exchange for a Roadster.  It seems to me we’d both be happy.

So Rick and I will keep waiting. Now that I’ve published this, Elon Musk knows we’re out here. We may not have fancy new cars, but we’ve got the Right Stuff.

My good friend Bob Eaton says he is removing a few Facebook friends because they continue to bombard him with their political histrionics. I know exactly how he feels. I usually clean them out on a regular basis. Yes, I actually unfriend them. My friends tell me to simply unfollow them, and remain friends. But I figure, if I decided they weren’t my friend in real life, why would I let them keep that label on Facebook?

Let’s pretend that there is no Facebook. Let’s say you had a friend that you really enjoyed seeing. One of those people who light up your life. One of those friends who, when they walk in the room, simply make your day better. And then, they get politics in the same way that others get religion. They seem to think it’s their duty to proselytize and persuade you to their way of political thinking every time they see you. So, sooner or later, you begin to avoid them. If they walk in the room, you think to yourself “Oh man, it’s Jerry again.” You manage to say hello and escape. You go home, and tell your wife or husband that you “managed to avoid Jerry.”  (if anybody out there is named Jerry, this is not about you.)

In defense of Bob Eaton and me, stop doing this. It’s really a non-partisan issue. I realize we are in the middle of a highly divided political era. You may feel this way or that way, I don’t care. But I can promise you that if you feel the need to spout endless political diatribe, you are becoming one of those people who are to be avoided. Seriously.

Now let’s be partisan for a moment. I have close friends who are politically aligned with me. We love nothing better than to talk privately among ourselves, patting each other on the back and reassuring ourselves that we’re right. Far right, in my case. Private agreement with one’s opinion is one thing. Projectile-vomiting it on the rest of the world is another thing altogether. In generations past, the rule for proper manners was “Don’t discuss politics or religion.” We ought to pull that one out of the mothballs and have another good long look at it.

When I was in middle and high school, we had a thing called a Slam Book.  It was a simple, spiral-bound book. We each had a page with our name written at the top. As the book was passed from student to student over a month or so, everyone wrote their opinion of us–right there on our page. And of course, the book eventually made its way back into our hands.  Sometimes they wrote nice things. Nobody under 60 is likely to remember Slam Books.  No one over 60 wants to.

Social media has become the Slam Book of the Millennium. Some of us feel unrestrained to spout opinion, much of it harmful, to anyone in the world. Some of it is directed at individuals in a malicious manner and some of it is simply thrown out there with no regard and apparently, no concern.  Thinking about that reminds me of another baby thrown out with the bathwater: “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.” And that reminds me of Elvis:  Don’t be cruel.

Maybe our current, incredibly divided political troubles exist because we, as a society, broadcast our opinions to the world before we think about them. We ought to be careful; those opinions are probably going into outer space and we’ll never get them back.  And here’s another thought: How well-regarded is our opinion anyway? Do we expect to change the world with it?  I don’t know about you.  But in 67 years, I don’t think my political opinion has ever changed anyone else’s mind.  Not once.  That’s sad, but it keeps things in perspective.

I’d rather make people laugh once in a while. And I’m keeping Bob Eaton as my Facebook friend

 

Since Harvey Weinstein was accused by multiple woman of sexual assault earlier this year, a sweeping series of accusations has occupied our headlines for months. What follows is by no means a complete list:

Tavis Smiley, television host, multiple accusers

Marshall Faulk, NFL analyst, multiple accusers

Ike Taylor, NFL analyst, multiple accusers

Heath Evans, NFL analyst, multiple accusers

Ryan Lizza, correspondent The New Yorker, at least one accuser

Mario Batali, celebrity chef, four accusers

James Levine, Boston Symphony Director, multiple accusers

Matt Lauer, NBC Today Anchor, multiple accusers

Charlie Rose, CBS television host and journalist, at least nine accusers

Glen Thrush, NY Times journalist, four accusers

Russell Simmons, music mogul and producer, multiple accusers

Jeffrey Tambor, actor, two accusers

Al Franken, U.S. Senator, multiple accusers

Matt Zimmerman, former senior vice-president NBC News, more than one accuser

Andrew Kriesberg TV producer, nineteen accusers

Roy Moore, U.S. Senatorial candidate, at least nine accusers

Louis C.K., comedian, five accusers

Steven Seagall, actor, three accusers

Ed Westwick, actor, two accusers

Brett Ratner, director, seven accusers

Dustin Hoffman, actor, six accusers

Jeremy Piven, actor, multiple accusers

Michael Oreskes, NPR News Chief, eight accusers

Garrison Keillor, creator, Prairie Home Companion

Kevin Spacey, actor, multiple accusers

Mark Halperin, political analyst, twelve accusers

George H.W. Bush, former President, seven accusers

Terry Richardson, photographer, multiple accusers

Leon Wieselter, news magazine editor, multiple accusers

James Toback, director, at least 238 accusers

John Besh, celebrity chef, multiple accusers

Bob Weinstein, brother of Harvey, one accuser

Oliver Stone, director, one accuser

Roy Price, Amazon Studios chief, one accuser

Ben Affleck, actor, two accusers

Again, that is by no means a complete list, because it’s changing daily. What is going on? The easy answer is that all of these deflowered women have been treated horribly and it is a good thing to finally shine the light of truth upon the depravity of their story.  Maybe.  And maybe not. I hear and read the statements by accusers and holier-than-thou pundits. Nearly all of them hope this exposure will help future victims come forward in the future.   I hope for that too. But I hope they come forward immediately and with proof. Please don’t assume I’m on any particular side of this issue. But I do have questions.

Life has taught me that of these untold numbers of victims, a certain percentage of them are telling the truth and have every right to be angry. I hope that percentage is large, because another percentage of them, I’m sorry to say, are not telling the truth. A third percentage are “sort of real.” “Sort of” means that something happened a long time ago, and only recently has the victim noticed that the gravy train is rolling by without them. They’re hopping aboard with dollar signs and an exclusive book deal in their eyes.   I suspect their motive today is not unlike their motive when the alleged abuse occurred ten—or forty—years ago. Life has also taught me that, after much time has passed, truth is nearly impossible.

I suspect every living male above the age of fifteen has, at one time or another, broken one or more of today’s “sexual appropriateness” rules. Most of us were in high school or college at one point. Runaway libido and alcohol have proven an unfortunate mixture for many, if not all of us, at one point or another. But if there are men out there who are proud of everything they’ve done, I admire and respect them. For every insane and inappropriate male I’ve known, there was an equally insane and predatory female. Babies were usually the result. Eventually, most of us grew up. Judging from the headlines, some of us didn’t make it.

So is it about sex, or is it about the abuse of power? I’m going with the power thing, because it makes more sense and I suspect that sex and adolescent hormones will always be with us.

Let’s consider two environments: Holly wood and Washington. What do they have in common? They are both places where extreme power exists in different forms. Some people are drawn to these places—some because they desperately want something. A percentage of those people are willing to do just about anything to get it– a role in a movie, a position as a Senator’s assistant or to influence a particular bill.  A President’s intern, for example.   In those environments, there is, and always will be, someone who has what they want. Someone who understands that people will do anything to get it. Someone who becomes enamored with that power and is able and willing to abuse others in a perverted display of it. Someone who believes that displaying that power will further it. When a powerful man—or woman—forces another to have sex, or gropes another person, I believe it is about far more than sex. I think it’s a display of power. Or maybe it’s a distorted way of reassuring themselves that they still have the power to do such a thing. It happens in a variety of ways—this is why I don’t think it’s about sex. I have personally witnessed the obscene treatment of other people by a superior in the workplace.  I believe it to be the same obscenity with clothes on.

Make no mistake: I do not defend any person who has hurt another and I have no respect for these individuals making headlines today. On the other hand, these rapid-fire accusations –this epidemic need to immediately denounce—gives me a cold feeling in my gut.  Political talking heads have, over the past few years, made a great deal of hay out of calling the other side Nazis or Nazi-like. I thought it was all silly. Yet here—right now—seems very much like the Third Reich. That episode in history resulted in a culture of denunciation, of neighbors reporting on neighbors, of children condemning their own parents. The effect was the destruction of family and of goodwill among people living in peace together. It replaced tolerance with suspicion, acceptance with paranoia and ultimately destroyed civil society. I believe that when it becomes the accepted norm to denounce others at will on a daily basis, we will have become sick. Of ourselves.

And now you probably understand that I am not one of the world’s great thinkers. I see the problem, but I don’t know the answer. I know only that our current response to it is wrong and will lead us all into being afraid of our neighbors and friends. That can’t be right.

“Boy Scouts Will Allow Girls To Join!”

Now that the media has written a few headlines about the Boy Scouts, it has rather quickly found other things to talk about.  That is typical of our media today;  it never thinks too long or hard about anything.

Having been directly involved with Scouting for over fifty years, I take the media’s collective ADHD with more than a little disappointment.  Are Boy Scouts no more important than a four-day media blitz?  I don’t know about you, treasured readers, but the organization is important to me.  Read this whole thing today, my friends, just as a favor to me; it’s my attempt to persuade you.

The BSA exists by law.  In 1910, the U.S. Congress issued a charter to the organization, specifically stating  that “The purposes of the corporation are to promote, through organization, and cooperation with other agencies, the ability of boys to do things for themselves and others… and to teach them patriotism, courage, self-reliance, and kindred virtues…”

The Boy Scouts existed for sixty years as a relatively unique youth organization—not only because they were for boys only, but because the general feeling was that Scouting wasn’t for every boy.    It was for the boy who enjoyed being outdoors, fortified with skills for survival.  Even more importantly, the idea was that these boys would grow into men of good citizenship and character. We understood, in those days, that some boys wouldn’t be interested in camping and cooking and the myriad activities of the BSA.  And everybody was OK with that.

By the  1970s, Scouting was suffering the same membership decline as other youth organizations—problems which still exist today:  There were simply  too many other youth activities competing for the membership of the country’s youth.  Scouting then made a decision which, until today, has remained its worst blunder.  It decided that it had been wrong—that Scouting was for every boy. The outdoor skills were de-emphasized as the national scouting board and leaders told us they would make Scouting “more relevant.”  The new Scout Handbook and other literature tried to be inclusive, and trained us, for example, to treat rat bites in the inner cities. (Locally, we referred to the new idea as “Rat Bite Scouting.”)

Well, they didn’t make Scouting more relevant.  They made it much smaller. The new idea was a disastrous failure and membership plummeted.  It took seven years for Scouting to realize the error, and they reversed course, returning to their traditional “Scouting Is Outing” structure.  They stopped the hemorrhaging membership, but never again rivaled the golden years of the 1960s.

I write all of the above so you understand that Scouting was able to back away from its error in 1979.  It will never be able to back away from this one. Scouting isn’t, and never has been, for everyone.  It’s single unique attraction has always been a program for boys only.  We will never be able to tell a nation of young girls that we’ve changed our mind. (“We’re so sorry, we’ve decided you’re not Boy Scouts after all.”)

Once done, it cannot be undone.

If the current decision stands, it will be eventually marketed to us as “Family Scouting.”  When you hear and read that phrase, you’ll know what’s coming; nothing short of a full court press for total integration of females into the Boy Scout program. I believe the organization may experience an initial surge in membership, followed by a decline, for it will be battling the same enemy as before:  intense competition for young peoples’ time.  Ultimately, it will be required to fight the same endless battles for membership.  But this time, it won’t be unique.  It will be just like everybody else.  If  “family scouting” is a good idea, then why not start a new and different organization called Family Scouting Of America?  There are plenty of us already in this youth business; one more competitor isn’t going to hurt. Why will this nation not let boys be boys?

Not every new idea is a good one.  There are old ideas of inestimable and timeless value.

If Congress started the Boy Scouts, why cannot Congress demand that it stay true to its original reason for existence?  I urge you to give this some thought—more than what the media offered you. Why not send an e-mail to your representatives in Congress, if you agree with me, and tell them simply that you think Boy Scouts should be boys?

I thank you for reading this.  I don’t usually take up serious issues with this space.  But I owe Scouting more than what the media apparently owes.  Let boys be boys.

You know what I hate? I hate it when our use of the language makes us look like idiots.

If we would begin to talk honestly with each other, it would help things. If we could learn to communicate simply and clearly without being caught up in how we sound, we might be able to make a better world. I don’t know if it would solve world hunger, cure cancer, or stop Trump from Tweeting. But I’m sure things would be better.

You’re probably wondering what put the burr under my saddle. I’ll tell you.

The other day, I had a question about retirement benefits. I attempted to call the personnel office of a former employer. I couldn’t find Personnel in the company’s phone listing. I tried searching for Human Resources. That’s the name they gave it decades ago. It always made me feel like I was being processed rather than accommodated. But, alas, there was not a resource to be found, human or otherwise. I finally called the main number, so I could speak with a real human resource.

“XYZ Company, how may I direct your call?”

“I’m trying to reach your personnel office.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your personnel office. Maybe you call it Human Resources.”

There was a long silence. I assume the young lady was checking a list. Maybe she was new.

“I’m sorry, I don’t find a listing for that.”

“That makes two of us. OK, let me ask you a question. You got hired by the company. Did you have to fill out an application?”

“Well, yes.”

“And what office did you go to, in order to fill out that application?”

“Ohhhhhh! You need our Talent Agency.”

“Your what?”

“Our Talent Agency! I’ll connect you.”

If you detect a note of sarcasm here, it’s entirely intentional. It appears that companies are now calling their personnel department a Talent Agency. It makes me think that if I opened the door and walked in there, I would find a sleazy looking guy with sunglasses and a checkered sport coat, asking me to come back in and play it a little differently.   Do they still do interviews in there, or do they hold auditions? I understand the message in the name change. The message will be all about how they are searching for the best employees, and how they’re trying to match talent with job duties for the best fit, etc. But that’s exactly what a good personnel office was trying to do fifty years ago.

I find far too many instances today where a group or organization has changed the name of something without fundamentally changing what the thing is. This isn’t to say that personnel departments don’t behave properly or that they need to change. I’m sure they do a wonderful job of finding the right employees. But the sign on their door should say HIRING AND FIRING. That sign would probably cause the self-esteem of a million millennials to plummet, but that’s what a personnel office does. They hire and fire people. I doubt very much that their purpose has changed.

This annoying need to constantly re-brand things says a lot about our society and its attitude toward real change and improvement. I worked fifty years for a variety of companies and organizations.  My experience teaches me that when I run across a new name or a new title, it’s almost always a new person trying to make a name for himself. Literally. If the thing hasn’t really changed and improved in some fundamental way, then Talent Agency in our companies is no better than New And Improved on a box of detergent. It’s meaningless. We’re no different than Pavlov’s dogs and if you don’t give us meaning for a long enough time, we’ll come to expect the lack of it.

If a sword has been beaten into a plowshare, then by all means, call it a plowshare. But if it’s still a sword, well, there are plenty of people where I live who know the difference. And if you think it’s a plow, don’t take up farming except as a hobby. Changing the name of something without changing the thing itself will fool only some of the people some of the time–until that Pavlov’s dogs thing kicks in. And it’s just stupid. There really isn’t any other word for it.

I will loosely quote Strunk and White’s writing advice in The Elements Of Style here, but I think it’s really advice for life: “If you want to be obscure, be obscure clearly. Be elliptical in a straightforward fashion.” That’s good advice. The important thing about your name or your manner of speaking or writing is not you. The important thing is that the person seeing or hearing or reading understands who you are and what you said. It ain’t rocket science and it doesn’t have to be pretty. It has to be understood.

Having gotten that off my chest, I would like to know why, in the past few years, people are telling me to “reach out” to someone, when what they really mean is ask.”

“Sir, I don’t know the answer to your question, but I am going to reach out to my associates for the answer.”

“I checked with my associates, and our best advice is for you to reach out to Social Security for the answer.

Did they need two words where one worked just fine? Here are two words: check with. Wouldn’t that be more clear? Reaching out makes me feel like I’m on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. It makes me want to reach out through the telephone line and strangle the person who said it. I’m not that helpless. Yet. All this reaching out is just more of the notion that “if we call it something different, it may not change, but we’ll feel good.”  It’s the millenialistic mantra of people who, rather than working hard and feeling good about it, tend to sit in a circle and sing kumbaya.  I suspect somebody with low self-esteem got it all started.

 I hope those of you reading this will reach out to everybody else and get all of this resolved, hopefully by next week. My wife says I’m not a patient person. Maybe it’s a good thing I am retired.

Two of my readers have taken me to task this week. One of them said my column is supposed to be about common sense, not “invented drivel about Bigfoot and Amelia Earhart.” The other said I am turning this “serious platform” into “something else altogether.”

Ouch. This is all news to me.

In these essays or postings or ramblings, I’ve tried to stay away from the subjects that divide us, or at the very least, treat them lightly and with reasonably good humor. At times I’ve tried to give readers something to laugh about; they say it’s the best medicine.   Maybe I’ve also said some things that you wanted to say. This blog has been available to the public for quite a while now, and I’ve failed and succeeded at all three objectives. So, in other words, I ain’t that good and I ain’t that bad.

So why write these things? English literary critic and writer Cyril Connolly once wrote “better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self.” Larry David, co-creator of Seinfeld, says “You write about what you know.” French essayist Joseph Joubert said “Never write anything that does not give you great pleasure.” But maybe my favorite inspiration is novelist D.H. Lawrence, who said “I like to write when I feel spiteful. It is like having a good sneeze.”

That having been said, I’ll defer to my critics and tackle a subject sure to touch all the hot spots. My instinct is shouting Trump! Trump! Trump!

Here are some things I’ve recently read about the President:

“The [President] has continued during the last week to make a fool of himself and to mortify and shame the intelligent people of this great nation.”

“His…efforts, imbecile in matter, disgusting in manner, have made us the laughing stock of the whole world.”

“[He] may live a hundred years without having so good a chance to die.”

“Obscene ape, idiot, tyrant, teller of dirty jokes and…an incompetent commander-in-chief.”

Oh, wait. Those things weren’t said about Trump. They were said about Abraham Lincoln. My mistake.

All right, well, here’s another hot topic: the uproar over Robert E. Lee’s statue in Charlottesville. I read where somebody said the monument offered “little to be proud of.”

No, that’s not right.  It wasn’t Robert E. Lee’s monument. It was the Washington Monument. My bad.  Some people didn’t want to have Washington’s example or memory used to legitimize a symbol of strong central power.” Can you believe it? They let a silly monument develop into a political issue. Somebody else said it would look like “a stalk of asparagus,” and several people thought it would look “like a chimney.”

Saint Mary and I had family here last week.  We were sitting in my living room, talking about the craziness of the world today.  My niece sat quietly and finally said, “I think everybody needs to just calm down.”  Out of the mouths of babes.

Well, now. I feel as though I’ve had a good sneeze and I’m going to enjoy the day.  It sure seems like people are liable to just say anything about anybody or any thing at any time and it’s all about as relevant as bumps on a board.  Everybody needs to just calm down. That’s just common sense.