Tag: JFK

YouTube, I Tube, We all Scream for YouTube

If you have watched YouTube lately you will learn everything you never wanted to know.

So many podcasts, short and determined to teach and inform us about topics we didn’t even know we didn’t want to know? YouTube validates what we need validated. It provides programs that help us escape, and teach us how to well, do pretty much anything. It provides entertainment in all forms. Want to rewatch Elvis on Ed Sullivan. Just type it in. Want to see an old favorite movie. It’s there. Want to turn a sponge into a glitzy wristwatch, someone will show you how. How to make a chocolate brownie with no sugar, no flour, no taste? There is talk, arguing, theories and the exact time the world will end and how. Just check, it’s all there. 

Despite the abundance of chatter, people seem to talk a whole lot without saying anything. The important issues in the world are never discussed while the most inane and nonsensical repeats at warp speed. And YouTube seems to capture it all in an unstoppable flow of what-the-hell-did-he-say? moments.

For example, and you knew I had a few, eleven government scientists connected to high clearance projects have disappeared since 2022. Have you heard much about it? Nope, me neither. Just that the government was initiating a probe to check it out.

A probe like the Kennedy Warren Commission, laugh laugh, that found, what the hell did they find anyway?

Yet the most foolish and inconsequential crap is all over YouTube, addictive and available 24/7.

Every time Meghan Markle defecates someone is reporting on who she dropped it on. Twenty-five experts on podcasts are debating whether Prince Harry can actually walk and chew gum at the same time. The consensus is he can’t. YouTube pundits have even coined a phrase about his wife. Now anyone who deals with her and gets screwed over, and it sounds like that’s everyone, is now referred to as having been “markled.” Oh, how does Webster’s Dictionary keep up?

Yet, the fact important, normal people are claiming to have evidence we are being visited by little green men gets no coverage at all on the nightly news.

And oh yes, many will say, “Well it’s not true. There’s nothing to discuss cause little green men don’t exist and they aren’t running around eating Reese’s pieces. People who think that are nuts.”

Really? Have you seen some of the people walking around lately? And eating Reese’s Pieces?

I must see ten people a week I swear have absolutely no relation to anything even semi human. And I live in LA, so sure, there’s lots more of them here. Many days I walk around here muttering, “Beam Me Up Scotty.”

So what’s my theory about why we seem to shy away from the really big scary stuff, and focus on silliness and trivia?

I imagine it’s the same reason Israel is now being blamed for William Shatner’s toupee. Crazy is easy, truth is hard.

Should one speak up more? I often heard that as you get older you are less inclined to keep your thoughts silent. With age comes the ability and guts to speak your mind and damn if anyone doesn’t like it. You’ve earned the right to honesty, to speak out, to stop caring about what others think.

But will you?

Can someone who has spent their life in fear of offending others suddenly wake up one morning, look in the mirror and say, “Okay, today I am going to say anything I want about everything and I couldn’t care less whom I hurt?”

I have trouble believing that.

This open mouth theory is simply wishful thinking on the part of those who want to, but probably never will. Being a truth teller takes real guts and there is no glory.

We shy away from truth because as Jack Nicolson said, “you can’t handle the truth.” He was right. It seems so much easier to simply hide beneath a mountain of stupidity and craziness and ignore reality. A reality that is so frightening and out of anyone’s belief system, we refuse to see or speak it into existence.

I believe human beings have limits on how much horrible they can endure. We are only equipped to accept so much bad into our psyche before we overload and begin caring about stupid stuff.

We seek content that somehow creates an illusion that all is right, life is good and bad people don’t really exist. Is it real or AI? Who cares anymore as long as it distracts us from the craziness. If a dog can dance and sing Putting on the Ritz in a tux and top hat diverts my attention for a few moments, I say dance, doggy dance.

YouTube allows us to believe the things we are actually witnessing with our own eyes aren’t really happening. And, if we focus on silliness the evil will disappear.

Podcasts distract us and allow us to accomplish this end. We escape into a nether world where life is as we knew it once. Where it made sense and good was good, and evil was bad and we could discern between the two.

When we all agreed on what was right or wrong and young people actually knew that being stupid, clueless and oblivious are bad things.

Blaming those you dislike for all the wrongs in the world won’t change the fact everything is upside down and sideways. That we live in a seriously unbalanced world, too frightening to even open our eyes and perceive.

So we turn on YouTube and watch, and watch, and scroll and watch some more. The cat and dog videos cooking alone are worth the price of admission. It’s a diversion we desperately need to keep us sane and protected from the insanity surrounding us.

I’d love to chat more but I have to go. Joe Rogan is interviewing a cat chef that can debone a chicken blindfolded.

“Can You Spare a Sheet, Please?…” Julia Louis Dreyfus

Who doesn’t love a good conspiracy? The juicy kind that makes the rounds on YouTube, Instagram, Facebook or Substack. Everyone is weighing in with a fury and writing madly about their take on this new mystery.

I can only imagine what would have happened had we had social media during the Kennedy assassination, MLK or Bobby?

Kennedy’s assassination as painful and excruciating as it already was would have been unbearable. It was already fraught with a cornucopia of theories from which to choose. And yet still to this day do we really truly know who ordered that hit? Not really for certain. Will we ever? Probably not.

It’s like the Hoffa disappearance and the yearly discovery of his remains, or a million other explosive stories that make the rounds constantly. Most just foolish imaginings, some with a grain of truth, but too little evidence to be considered proof.

We all remember the pandemic I believe. Hard to forget actually, although it’s difficult to imagine it was already six and a half years ago.

I actually have a conspiracy theory I haven’t really shared with anyone, but I will go out on a limb here and lay it all out.

Yes, we suspect that Fauci indirectly gave the Chinese money to create a deadly virus in a Wuhan lab. I don’t think anyone was really buying that wet market boloney.

So if that was really part of it, and that’s a big if I admit, it seems pretty likely there was one entity that would profit big time by its creation. Dada! Big Pharma of course. I mean in every crime show they always tell everyone to follow the money. Can you line up for a poke please?

Guess it does seem likely they may have not been all that upset about the whole COVID thing.

But, and here’s a big but, there were also others that profited unimaginably by the pandemic.

Amazon for example. Lauren Sanchez and her plastic surgeon are now reaping the benefits of that windfall. There wasn’t even any living without that daily ring of the bell. And let’s face it we never really broke that habit.

Okay, so what’s my new theory that no one has really explored? Drum roll please! There are four. Yes, that’s right four suspects I am currently checking out with gusto. And they are: Essity, Swedish hygiene and health company that produces tissue lines globally. Kimberly-Clark, the American corporation that produces Scott and Cottonelle and Procter & Gamble that makes Charmin, one of the biggest market shares in consumer paper goods. Let us not forget Georgia-Pacific that turns out Angel Soft and Quilted Northern.

Aha! So now maybe you’re thinking this broad isn’t so crazy. About this anyway.

Let’s face facts, may we? How many people had the shot? Sure, tons. But how long will they continue to have it?

See? Big money maker, but temporary.
I suspect not only is everyone continuing to order TP, but they have had a priority shift about the product as well.

It was like a sense of desperation set in. The constant counting of remaining rolls. When to reorder, how many? Searching for new places to store those giant boxes filled with what became the undeniably most coveted necessity ever.

If a family ran out of potato chips sure there would be complaints and grumbling. Or ice cream, or the basic daily food groups, like chocolate. I imagine there may have been a revolt or two even in the calmest of families.

But could everyone survive without chocolate for a day or two until the next Amazon van pulled up? Well, everyone but me of course. Sure, not life or death for anyone.

But toilet paper. Are you kidding me? Unless you have a bidet, which is something many now have seen the wisdom of possessing and invested in.

I dread to imagine the chaos had there been a shortage. Many of us remember the Seinfeld episode when Elaine tried to borrow a sheet from the stall next to her.

I’m not being crass or trying to be as gross and disgusting as Prince Harry about this subject. I’m simply saying these four companies racked up some pretty significant profits in 2020.

Kimberly Clark up over four billion, Georgia Pacific over six billion, Essity up 11%, Proctor and Gamble up over ten percent just in the U.S. alone.
So our follow the money theory, although it also applies to others like Amazon and Netflix, is not looking so crazy now. I mean Shtisel alone made Netflix that year. Although I must admit I believe Netflix innocently profited from the windfall which continues to this day.

I can’t swear for the toilet paper kings over there. And although I’m not accusing them of anything, I must point out the strange coincidence between being homebound and the worldwide run on toilet tissue.

To this day, I am paranoid about running out. I order twice as much as I used to just in case. Am I the only one still in a toilet paper hoarding PTSD mindset. I don’t think so.

No one ever thought or entertained any fears about a shortage, now many do.

So if Greed is good, Gordon Gecko must be busy trying to create another scary virus to amass and expand his fortunes.

I guess as we grow older, we realize some of those old timey adages we heard as children might actually have a great deal of validity.

So yes, the early bird is still catching the worm, all that glitters isn’t gold and an ounce of prevention is for sure worth a pound of cure, even at today’s prices.

And whodda thunk that the boy scouts would be the philosophers of the ages? Yep, “be prepared” wins the learn-it-the-hard-way lesson now.

Oops gotta go, Amazon is outside delivering a box of Godiva.

JFK Jr. Devil or Angel? Baby Boomers Really Don’t Care

The television movie about JFK Jr. and his wife Carolyn Bessette’s death seems to be creating a litany of criticism or support from various factions. I’ve given this some thought and it’s an interesting dynamic at work, but why?

Getting older means although the mind may be slowing a little, memories seem more vivid. I’m not certain whether that’s because it doesn’t seem as long ago anymore, or the feelings we felt when we were young come rushing back more quickly now.

Even simple things like a favorite pizza conjure up the sensibility of being with friends and loving that particular food.

Strangely, I never seem to be able to recapture the taste of the foods from my youth, only the impressions. So why should a TV movie have so much to do with childhood feelings?

John F. Kennedy Jr.’s death seemed to resonate differently according to your generation. To some an ending, to some nothing.

I’ve noticed young people don’t regard the Kennedy name with the same reverence as Baby Boomers.

Listening to the way John John is being described, I’ve taken the time to try and discover why.

It’s clear that despite the fact President John F. Kennedy was not by any means a saint, Baby Boomers still embrace his memory. Why?

I can only speak for myself, but my recollections of the first three years of the 1960s are still very vivid and emotionally charged.

This is in great part due to the fact JFK’s death was one of those once in a lifetime

experiences you seem to carry with you forever.

That week was burned in my soul and changed not only the world, but me. I’m certain I’m not the only one who feels that way.

The question, “Where were you when JFK was shot?” comes up on most first dates for Baby Boomers. Perhaps silly, but true because it unites us in a special way, a shared moment in time that forms a bond. Instant recall of a moment that lives on inside us.

For those too young to know I will describe America on November 22, 1963.

We were shocked and filled with a painful and overwhelming sadness. As though we’d fallen into a bottomless black hole that encased our entire body and soul.  

Like robots programmed to sit, watch and sob. Tears fell without any inducement at the sights and sounds we witnessed, as one shocking and devastating moment continued to emerge from our television sets.

Life stopped and we sat glued to the screen incapable of movement or joy.

When Lee Harvey Oswald was murdered in front of our eyes in real time, we fell deeper down a shock spiral uncertain of whether awake or dreaming. Time stopped, we sat.

The pain seemed to hover in the air above our homes, neighborhoods and cities like a dark cloud of despair.

Memories come flooding back today as glimpses into a past we’ve carried with us a lifetime.

Jackie’s blood-soaked pink suit, a convertible speeding through the streets as she climbed on the trunk, her face when Lyndon Johnson took the oath of office on the plane.

The sound of horses’ hoofs clopping along down Pennsylvania avenue pulling a military ammunition wagon with a flag-draped coffin. Then probably one of the most heart wrenching moments of our entire generation, John John saluting as the casket passed. A Dallas police station and another shocking murder.

The day JFK was killed conjures up more than just tragedy, it evokes the sentiments of a time in America that died with JFK and can never be reborn.

That child saluting his martyred father is something none of us could ever forget. More than just a young boy’s goodbye to a parent.

JFK’s death also marks the day when the guns came out in America and never left. The turning point for a nation that changed into a violent gun-toting jungle that continues its non-stop steady fall into chaos.

A day that marked the end of post-war America, and ushered in a new era filled with anger, mistrust and violence.

Gone was the sense of optimism that prevailed when the WWII soldiers came home and the building of a country began. Those upbeat feelings of hope and excitement for the future were replaced. Sadly, to be ever marked by assassination, blood and shock after shock as we witnessed the fall from that heady pedestal we occupied.

It was a strange new America. One fraught with protests, marches, anger, hatred, guns and more guns as we struggled to find a way out of the incredible pain to which we’d awakened on November 22nd.

Life went on of course, but in a new land, one without a young inspiring leader. JFK embodied the very soul of youth and hope for a future filled with the promise of a post war era.

Now violence set the tone, there were new streets filled with crime, protests and hostility.

Did America turn into something different overnight? No, of course not. It was a gradual metamorphosis, subtle and slow. Metastasizing to pockets and places in a society that never imagined this darkness ever existed.

That is why when Jackie Kennedy’s reference to Camelot was introduced it became the theme song of a generation. Before it all changed. Before the America Baby Boomers knew morphed into a strange and unfamiliar place lacking adolescent innocence.

Stumbling along without that vibrant, handsome leader and his beautiful family to inspire us to greatness. To be better versions of ourselves, and to “ask not what our country could do for us, but what we could do for our country.”

Is it any wonder we miss him, flaws and all?

Is it so strange that when we see John John we witness a missed opportunity to restore the America we loved, but can never return?  

Were the Kennedy’s perfect people? No, not at all. Did we know that then? No, we didn’t. Would most Baby Boomers say they are happy we found out how imperfect they were? I doubt it. I’d prefer living with my memories of a simpler time, a hopeful one, in a far different America. As we age into a world we no longer understand or recognize do we need those memories of happier times? Indeed.  

Am I ignoring the darker underpinnings of America then? Of course, but my memories are subjective, albeit not always realistic.

I often wonder what this country would be today had Kennedy lived to continue his stewardship and positive march forward into his U.S.A. If guns and violence hadn’t been given an open invitation to entrench their evil into the fabric of that quiet, lovely country that felt undemanding, safe and optimistic.

One that inspired all of us and the entire world.  

To me when someone criticizes JFK Jr. it’s as if each word knocks another jewel off a resplendent Faberge egg. Until it becomes a hollow shell lacking the luster and beauty by which it once dazzled.

Are we merely waxing nostalgic when Baby Boomers choose to hang onto the gleaming perfection of a place where we once lived and thrived?

I wish today’s generations could understand and experience even a small part of our America, our illusion, our Camelot.

When Did I Become a DJ’s Song Introduction?

How many times through the years have you heard a DJ introduce a recording as an oldie but a goodie.

I now realize that I have become exactly that, an oldie but a goodie.

And what might you ask makes you think you are a goodie? Oldie one gets without the need for an explanation.

Perhaps it is the fact my memory now resides in Google and the things I remember and treasure are on Facebook pages I share with thousands of others. We realize there is a limited number of us who are aware things we once adored ever existed. But thankfully I can still recall the things that made childhood so special.

Of course the very accomplishment of reaching that certain age, puts you in a category that should be applauded.

As Barry Manilow sings, “I made it through the rain…”

So if indeed I did, and we all did, then what now?

What is our next great achievement?

Becoming an oldie but a goodie seems rather lackluster, although damn nice to hear.

What is our next stage? Antique?

Rare antiquity? Salvageable?

Should I run every time I see someone resembling Indiana Jones heading in my direction?

Is my fate to stand alongside Cleopatra’s barge in some museum as an example of how wrinkles evolved?  

It must give one pause. So I’m pausing. Largely because I need to more often now. Pause I mean. Racing through stuff is no longer the option it once was.

Currently, sharing becomes selective. Telling your grandchildren about meeting Soupy Sales loses its flavor when they turn to you with a blank stare and ask, “What’s a Soupy Sales?”

I now understand our accomplishments, exciting moments, and fulfilled goals must be taken at face value. Our face. And despite the fact we now have so many more moments to share, there are fewer left who have any idea what we’re talking about.

Thus the need for Facebook pages dedicated to stuff that happened sixty years ago.

So finding an old hanger from a department store we hung out at over sixty years ago that no longer exists seems exciting to us. Especially when you can post it on your Facebook page and there will actually be others who are equally jubilant.  

I dread to think what would happen if Facebook disappeared and we had to wander the streets talking to ourselves or anyone who would listen about how we found the recipe for J.L. Hudson’s Maurice dressing..

I’d prefer to tell my grandchildren that elevators used to have uniformed people in them pushing the buttons and opening doors.

Still, as their eyes glaze over you might regret not posting about it on Facebook instead.

Here’s a scary thought. What if you had to go through life boring everyone you meet until you heard snoring as you recount how you lost your skate key from around your neck.  

Can you even imagine how millennials would look at you if you told them your mother filled twenty books of S&H Green Stamps to get a toaster?

Or that a bank used to give small appliances away to get you in the door to open an account?

Now you’re lucky if there’s anyone there to even help you at a teller window.

I don’t believe they want to be bored when you share these little gems from your past. I just think young people can’t in any way relate. Let’s face it, things are very different now.

There is no way anyone would believe you didn’t pay for light bulbs or Bill Knapp’s gave you a free cake for dessert on your birthday.

It so begs credulity you may as well walk into a party and announce you just arrived from Mars on the Concord.

Telling my grandsons we had trucks driving through the neighborhood selling baked goods. Or a milkman dressed like milk sounds like a fairy tale to kids that can order anything they want with one click on Amazon.

Yes, I understand that times change and life moves at breakneck speed, especially as you age. Still, is it so terrible to believe Clarence got his wings when that bell rang?

I agree living in the moment may be the right thing to do. But is wanting to remember some of the happiest times of your life and share them so bad?

I feel lucky that my grandsons will take time off from building robots or Minecraft and listen to my tales of the past. Sure, a yawn may slip out, but they listen. And at times they are even intrigued by my tales from ancient times like the fifties and sixties. Or the events that colored our lives in the past.

I can’t tell you how often my grandson has asked me to tell him about the day JFK was assassinated because he knows how important a memory it is for me.

So even if it’s a pity listen, I’ll take it gladly because it’s borne out of love. And at least he understands who John F. Kennedy was and how much he meant to Baby Boomers.

I know we need to have a balance now. It’s important to keep making new memories as we selfishly guard the old. Exactly what that balance is, don’t ask me. I still consider a balanced breakfast a sleeve of Oreos dipped in a glass of milk.

Some Promises Kept. But Where is My Beep Beep Rosie?

Promises Promises! Where is my Beep Beep Rosie?

If anyone has tried the new wonder called Virtual Reality you will feel as cheated as I do.

Where was our virtual reality when we were young?

Okay, I admit childhood today requires the ability to escape the craziness, but hey, we did too when we were teens. But I guess we should be grateful that we have our grandchildren to guide us through this strange new world.

So how does it feel?

Well for those of you who haven’t been fortunate enough to try VR yet, let me tell you, it’s amazing.

I can fly, without leaving the ground. Although I do get a bit nauseous. It is really scary when you’re standing on a cliff and it seems so real you’re afraid any second you’ll fall off the earth.

That’s how authentic this thing is. I actual sometimes feel like if I move one step I’ll drop into an abyss. I really love this whole able to leap tall buildings in a single bound thing.

The technology, and it was promised for a very long time, does not disappoint.

I remember hearing about all of these gadgets when we were kids. I’m still waiting for Beep Beep Rosie. But at least with VR I can watch a virtual Beep Beep Rosie cleaning my house.

Jetpacks, now that’s something I could really get behind. Beam me up Scotty.

The ability to strap on a backpack and fly to the store. Wow, just think about it. No gas stations, no charging EVs, it’s just up we go. What fun and so easy.

Baby Boomers can really appreciate what it means to escape into virtual reality. How great it is to get out of Dodge? Or any of these new fangled inventions like cell phones. Remember party lines and when you got your own phone line?

But young people have no idea. So, what is the benefit of this VR? Is it merely a cool way to spend time, taking a video game to another level or is it something more? Is it not really a toy, but a glimpse into a future divorced from real life.

Perhaps it’s the new reality, a parallel universe where one can go to fly, see beautiful places, travel to other lands, even walk with dinosaurs. Play games with avatars so lifelike it could freak you out.

For my part I would love to have a virtual reality where I could sit down and have lunch with Moses and ask him about schlepping through the desert.

Or maybe spend some time with JFK or ask Marilyn how he was in bed. Wouldn’t it be amazing to chat with Jack Ruby and find out why he killed Lee Harvey Oswald?

I do find that the more time I spend in that ether world of VR the more I want to. But my mind usually says this is too much, let’s sit down for a while.

It’s so real it’s difficult to grasp and I wind up with a headache.

But is it worth it? You bet. Seeing the world without running through an airport.

Climbing Machu Picchu without sore feet. Standing on top of Mt. Everest and looking down at the world, visiting the North Pole without a coat. Jumping into the Grand Canyon without breaking your neck. How could this possibly not be the coolest thing ever?

Kids today can’t truly appreciate the significance of an invention this amazing because they didn’t have to wait for it an entire lifetime.

I’m saying that unless you’ve seen Howdy Doody’s strings or had to watch television with aluminum foil on the rabbit ears and stand in a certain place to get reception, it’s difficult to really grasp the wonders of VR.

How amazing it is putting on a mask and leaving the planet to fly through space. Or go deep-sea diving at the Coral Reef without any sharks, or eat at five-star restaurants in Italy without ingesting a single calorie.

Many might poo poo the wonders of this new technology, but as someone who has been impatiently awaiting the inventions we read about as kids, I have no intention of taking any of this for granted.

I can golf like Jack Nicklaus, fight Darth Vader and travel to the top of the Eiffel Tower without leaving the room.

At a time in my life where I feel so unable to be daring and over the top courageous (my kids would enrobe me in bubble wrap and lock me in the house) I can be anything or go anywhere I want with Virtual Reality.

I guess by now you’ve figured out what a fan I am of this new invention.

Some things we wait for in life are sadly a bit disappointing when they finally appear. VR is not. It is actually far more phenomenal than I anticipated.

It’s a video game on steroids.

It’s Pac Man in IMAX, it’s a trip to Hershey Pennsylvania, it’s staring at the Sistine Chapel without winding up with a sore neck. It’s wandering through the streets of Rome or Spain without being robbed or ripped off and flying over London like Marley’s ghost. Someday soon you’ll probably enjoy the biggest hits on Broadway without paying a scalper for tickets.

All will be possible and you merely have to don a mask to enter all these new worlds.

There is no limit to what VR will ultimately deliver and the universes it will open.

I for one am excited about how much more it will do in the future, because as of now it’s far more than even I ever dreamed.

Perhaps that’s the answer to aging. VR make me sixteen again. Damn, I look good and no plastic surgery. You mean my turn is over? I have to take off the mask? Boo hoo, just as I was about to chat with Cleopatra about make up tips. Yep, I think Grammy definitely needs her own headset.

When it’s my turn again I’m going to hang out with Winston Churchill. I sure hope you can’t smell his damn cigars.