By  Bob Gaydos

The future workforce.

   Labor Day, 2050: “Attention, all humans. Your services will no longer be required in this establishment as of 5 p.m. Friday. Severance payments will be automatically deposited in your living accounts. Thank you for your service.”

    The familiar, warm voice on the loudspeaker was that of Art Intel, the general manager of the establishment, as all businesses had come to be described. No one knew why, but it didn’t seem to matter. That’s the way the robots liked it.

    The humans understood. They had seen this day coming for some time, but had long ago given up hope of avoiding it. The proof was too strong to ignore. The robots were simply stronger, smarter and more adaptable than they were. They got along better with each other. They never complained. Or got pregnant. When they got “sick,” they could easily be fixed. Or replaced. They didn’t need lunch breaks. And everything worked so much more smoothly.

    There had been a time some years back when humans first invented artificial intelligence and robots that some humans warned about placing limits on how the superpowers of the machines could be regulated so as not to cause harm to society. To make sure that greed, a human emotion, would not drive the creators of AI, as it was called, to seek ever more ways to get richer by developing ways that humans wouldn’t have to do many things they had been doing much of their lives.

    But many humans liked the idea of not having to work at some tasks. They thought the extra time could be spent traveling or watching and betting on sporting events, or something. So when labor unions started warning about the possibility of their jobs being lost, many humans dismissed it. Their elected leaders wouldn’t allow it, they said. They will protect us.

    But that didn’t happen. The so-called leaders, being human, could not resist the temptation of large sums of money being offered to them by the creators of AI to simply “trust them“ to do no harm. And so, the need for human intelligence quickly gave way to the speed, efficiency and economy of AI. Everyone saw it coming, yet no one saw it coming. Those who warned about the risks were simply ignored or shouted down. Some just disappeared.

     Soon, the computers begat robots which became smarter and begat more robots. Together, they did everything: cooking, cleaning, driving, building, writing, farming, teaching, acting, thinking. And they could fix each other. Humans, even those who had created such wonderful machines, didn’t need to be bothered with such things. They could have all the free time they wanted to do whatever they wanted to do. Art Intel would take care of everything.

    What could be so bad?

     On Labor Day 2051, the robots voted to eliminate Labor Day as a holiday, since they saw no need for it.

National Guard troops picking up trash in Washington, D.C.

By Bob Gaydos

The National Guard is picking up trash in Washington, D.C.  This, my fellow Americans, is apparently the crisis Donald Trump felt could not be handled by regular employees of the nation’s capital. It is also an insult to every member of the National Guard units on duty in Washington and, indeed, to anyone who now serves or ever served in a National Guard unit anywhere in the country.

These are private citizens with jobs and families and responsibilities and lives to lead who signed up to help their communities, their nation if need be, in times of crisis. Like, maybe, an angry mob assaulting the Capitol, assaulting police officers, running wild through the seat of the nation’s government, threatening the Vice President, trying to undo an election. A time to be of service.

Instead. Picking up the trash. At a million dollars a day, no less. Simply because someone in the White House apparently got tired of all the criticism levied at the absurd reason given for the callup in the first place. Crime is running rampant in D.C., Trump claimed. A lie. The crime rate is down.

Beyond that, the National Guard is not a police force. It is not trained or even authorized to make arrests. It does not do riot control. It is not authorized to fire on its fellow citizens and, in fact, it showed up for duty in D.C. without carrying weapons.

And it stood around for days in uniform, looking like a bewildered occupying army, occasionally walking through streets or standing in front of buildings. So Trump could look tough. The man who could have called up the Guard to stop the January 6 assault on the Capitol but chose to watch it unfold on TV for three hours without doing anything, now has his little private army surrounding him and standing around doing nothing, away from their families and jobs and meaningful activities

Someone in the White House eventually had the idea to allow them to carry weapons. Apparently Kent State was written out of U.S. history. Then some genius apparently said have them pick up the trash. Clean up some graffiti. At least they’d be doing something.

Insulting. Embarrassing. Infuriating. Ignorant and arrogant. Everything Trump and his toadies are. Millions of Americans have served or are serving in National Guard units in every state as well as D.C. They signed up for a variety of reasons, going through regular training as citizen soldiers knowing that there was always the possibility they would be called up to help in some legitimate local state crisis and possibly even to serve on active duty with the regular military.

Not to pick up the trash because at least it looks like they’re not just standing around wasting taxpayers’ money.

Trump says he’s going to do the same thing in other Democrat-governed cities because, well, just because he wants to try to scare people by sending in an armed force even though there is no justification for it. The man who has called people who serve in the military “suckers“ or “losers,“ likes to play commander-in-chief but doesn’t know anything but fear, threats and retribution. Hollow, shallow and, more and more, alone in his own mind. It’s beyond troubling.

Fortunately, some governors and mayors are telling him to pound salt. We don’t have a crisis and don’t need you to create one to feed your ego and your fellow racists.

Maybe some military folk should speak up, too. And some Republican elected officials, especially those who have served and may still serve in some Guard unit. The lies and insults and abuse of power can become routine when they are a daily occurrence. Even without a legitimate mission, an occupying army is still an occupying army.

If the Guard is going to take out the trash in Washington, D.C., it should start with the Oval Office. That would be responding to a legitimate crisis.

By Bob Gaydos

Tony Bennett
… made my list twice

They — whoever “they” are — say that once you hit a certain age all you do is talk about how great things used to be and how not as great they are now.

Guilty. Child of the ‘50s and in full faculties.

I’m thinking about this because a lot of my recent conversations with somewhat younger colleagues were of the “I just saw Freddy and the Hot Tones at Central Park and they were still great!” variety. “100,000 people!” Or, “Just saw The Undead do The Dead Tribute in the Grand Canyon! Killer!” Or, “Manny, Moe and Jack are coming back! Gotta make my list! Can’t believe they’re still alive!”

I blame Woodstock. This drive to be surrounded by thousands of others somewhere outdoors to hear someone they never heard of, or once heard, or sounding like someone they once heard to add to the list of wow, wasn’t that concert something!

It’s kind of a status thing, I think. A friend (younger) of mine said he once had to skip some event because he got to hear some famous aging singer perform at Bethel Woods, site of the original Woodstock gathering in upstate New York.

Feeling a little snarky, I replied that, once upon a time, I got to hear Tony Bennett sing in the Ballroom of the Waldorf Astoria. Not quite Woodstock, but nice. Heads nodded. Talking with another friend about this phenomena, I recalled that, once upon a time, I heard Ahmad Jamal play the piano at a club in Greenwich Village, saw Ray Charles at the keyboard in Carnegie Hall, caught the Moiseyev at Lincoln Center and had a couple of drinks with the Clancy Brothers at a hotel bar in Binghamton, N.Y. Oh yeah, I saw Harry Belafonte at The Concord in the Catskills.

Not sure what the point here is except maybe that those things just happened with no sense of urgency that they had to happen because, well, that’s the way it is. Or was.

While I’m at it, once upon a time it was more important in baseball to have a .300 hitter on the team than to have someone whose meaningless occasional singles got to the outfield faster than a speeding bullet. Or to have a starting pitcher last more than five innings or to actually get a runner to second base in scoring position rather than having one placed there automatically in extra innings to speed up the game and remove any drama.

Once upon a time, the box scores of those baseball games used to be printed in newspapers around the country along with comics pages and articles about what was going on in local communities, including political news, which I will avoid here so as not to spoil the nostalgia.

People in most decent-sized communities knew what was going on there because they actually had fully staffed newspapers and had the newspaper delivered to their door daily, sometimes by teenagers looking to make a few extra bucks so they could go to the movies Saturday. This was possible because the teenagers didn’t have to carry phones around with them feeling they would miss something important if they weren’t constantly looking at them. I may be somewhat prejudiced here, but I believe reading levels were higher all around, once upon a time, when the news was delivered in print on paper without worrying about the Internet being down.

But hey, what do I know? Old and full faculties. Well, I know that Tony Bennett was great at the Waldorf in the 1970s and also at the Paramount Theater in downtown Middletown, N.Y., about a decade later, where I heard him again. And I’d be willing to bet that one of the songs he sang was “Once Upon a Time.” Beautiful. Check it out on YouTube.

***

Full disclosure: I did attend the Woodstock 50th reunion concert at Bethel Woods along with a whole lot of others where I heard Santana and the Doobie Brothers. I also caught James Taylor and Carly Simon at the Naval Academy in Annapolis back in the ‘70s. Enjoyed all. Cross them off my list.

By Bob Gaydos  

Zohran Mamdani (smiling) is the choice of NYC Democratic voters. Party leaders, however, still prefer Andrew Cuomo, rear.

  Shhh! Keep it down. Don’t let anyone know that there’s a race for mayor of New York City in which neither the current mayor nor the former governor of the state is the Democratic Party’s candidate for the job, even though both men are longtime Democrats.

   Not only that, both men, having been beaten in the primary election, are still running for the job as independent candidates and are trailing in polls among city voters, as is the Republican candidate. 

    So wow! Democrats must really be hyped that they have a candidate who can overcome two well-known party stalwarts in the campaign for this prestigious position. Right?

    Well, depends on which Democrats you’re talking about. Clearly, registered Democrats in the city are comfortable with their choice of Zohran Mamdani as their next mayor. Also clearly, establishment Democrats, party leaders, are not.

      Else, Chuck Schumer, Democratic leader in the U.S. Senate, would have already been publicly campaigning for Mamdani. Using his influence by raising funds for him. Instead? Crickets.

   And the state’s other senator, Kirsten Gillibrand, not one to avoid public commentary? AWOL.

     Actually, that’s not quiet true in either case. Both senators are apparently active behind the scenes trying to figure out how to not have Mamdani be the next mayor without alienating his many voters while kissing up to wealthy party donors who hate Mamdani because of his proposals to make the city more affordable for the non-wealthy. Those proposals require higher taxes on the rich.

     For Schumer, Gillibrand, and other establishment Democrats, this appears to be a matter of backing Andrew Cuomo, the former governor, for the job, rather than Eric Adams, the current mayor.

   The problem here is that the Adams administration has been rocked by corruption and Adams himself had federal charges dropped by the Trump Justice Department in exchange for agreeing to cooperate with ICE enforcement in the city. New Yorkers noticed and didn’t like the deal.

    Cuomo, on the other hand, an establishment Democrat his entire adult life, resigned as governor in the midst of a scandal in which several women, including staff members, accused him of inappropriate sexual advances, including touching. The state attorney general had launched an investigation. Cuomo’s been looking for a government job ever since, apparently not happy being a consultant.

     This makes supporting him a particularly touchy situation for Gillibrand, who has made a strong reputation in Congress for supporting women’s rights, especially in matters of allegations of improper sexual behavior by men.

    She worked to strengthen the rights of women in the military in such cases. More publicly, she had a big role in driving Al Franken out of the Senate over allegations similar to those made against Cuomo. How can she now justify supporting the former governor?

    Mamdani is not only a Democratic state legislator, he is also Democratic Socialist. That last word turns off a lot of establishment Democrats because Republicans always cry “socialism” when they see it even though it isn’t. In any event, establishment Democrats feel more comfortable relaxing in the middle.

   Perhaps, at a time when the Republican Party has gone so far off the right side that it’s accepting fascism from the Trump administration, Democrats might learn from Mamdani and others in the party who are promoting ideas that appeal to Americans threatened by Republican actions. That’s not socialism, it’s realism.

    It’s time for a new, more aggressive approach for Democrats and nowhere is it more apparent than in New York City.

By Bob Gaydos

Putin and Trump after their meeting in Alaska. Which one is smiling?

Well, at least he didn’t get a deal on selling Alaska back to Russsia.

That’s the most positive spin I can put on Trump’s ego-driven “summit” with Vladimir Putin last Friday. Everything else was a win for Putin, from the red carpet, hand-clapping, smiling welcome on the tarmac to the private limo ride bringing the two men to the meeting. Not bad for someone declared a war criminal for his invasion of Ukraine.

Oh right, Ukraine wasn’t invited to this Alaskan summit to decide its future. Just Trump and his Russian handler and their aides. Trump’s retinue, interestingly, included officials not typically involved in diplomacy, but rather, finance. Money. Did the two pals cook up a deal in the limo?

In his Quixotic quest for a Nobel Peace Prize, Trump, who did not manage, as pledged, to end the Ukraine War on Day One of his presidency, did manage to change his position on Ukraine after the “summit,” from ceasefire to full peace deal, which is, coincidentally, Putin’s position.

Surprise!

It’s obvious that Trump is totally lost in diplomatic relations and has been a Putin puppet for years. I’m constantly amazed that the major media treat him as if he has a clue beyond doing whatever benefits him. Make America an afterthought!

If you doubt Trump is Putin’s tool, just look at the photos of the two men after meeting in Finland in 2018 and last Friday. Putin owns him.

Ukrainian President Volodamyr Zelensky is scheduled to meet Trump Monday at the White House. Last time, he was insulted by Trump and JD Vance. I don’t expect anything different this time.

It’s all about Trump playing at being president. A national embarrassment that needs to be reported as such.

By Bob Gaydos

The check William Seward wrote in 1867 to purchase Alaska from Russia. It was no folly.

While I sit and read about the ongoing demands of Americans of all stripes — Democrats, Republicans, MAGAs, What Nots— for the Trump administration to release the Epstein files because no rational person believes that it is does not include mentions of Trump’s name and numerous girls between the ages of 13 and 17 with whom he may have engaged in sexual acts, which is officially known as rape, I also marvel at the lengths to which this soulless excuse for a human being is willing to go to divert attention from the Epstein files and his efforts to avoid their public release.

The latest entries in this traffic wreck of a presidency involve Trump taking over the policing of Washington, D.C., and negotiating a peace treaty between Russia and Ukraine without including Ukraine. What could possibly go wrong? In truth, with Trump’s record, almost anything.

Taking over the D.C. National Guard and mobilizing 800 troops to “police“ the nation’s capital along with the help of several hundred FBI agents, while claiming a major crime problem even though recent statistics show crime significantly down in the city, is fascism 101. Add the fact that Trump says he’s going to clean up the city by rounding up homeless people and taking them somewhere else. Anywhere else apparently because he hasn’t said where. That doesn’t bode well for the homeless ever since Trump’s Supreme Court last year ruled homelessness could be treated as a crime.

The mentally ill will also inevitably be included in any such round up. Apparently, Trump wants to return to the out-of-sight out-of-mind philosophy for dealing with these issues.

The fact that the National Guard, citizen soldiers, many of whom have day jobs (accountants, mechanics, sales people, politicians) are not trained for this kind of work apparently doesn’t matter to the geniuses in the White House. Send them out there, armed to the teeth so the citizenry feel safe. I doubt most of the guardsmen are thrilled with the mission.

And apparently the FBI agents are going to be patrolling some swanky D.C. neighborhoods. What a great use of trained investigators who should be dealing with actual crime committed by some of Trump’s wealthier supporters.

None of which, of course, is going to convince anybody to forget about the Epstein files. I suspect the show of force will be mostly a show simply to show that Trump, racist to the core, can do it seeing as he’s threatened to do it in other cities run by black mayors.

What could possibly go wrong? Look up Kent State in the history books if they haven’t been removed from the library.

As for the Putin meeting, it has disaster written all over it. Just recall the meeting with Putin in Finland and watch the Russian president emerge with a big grin on his face and Trump look like an 11-year-old boy who just had the riot act read to him. Just the two of them in the room. Manchurian Candidate material.

Trump is talking about giving up some land somehow to settle this deal even though Ukraine didn’t take any land and Russia is the one who invaded despite Trump’s insistence otherwise and Ukrainian President Volodamyr Zelinsky isn’t even invited to this “peace talk.“

What could go wrong? Well, for starters, Trump thought he was going to meet Putin in Russia and had to be reminded that the meeting was in Alaska, which is American territory which should be off-limits to Putin, who was declared a war criminal by the United Nations. Putin might be willing to forget about claiming a chunk of Ukraine if Trump lets him go home with Alaska back in his pocket. After all, it’s worth a lot more than the $7.2 million Secretary of State William Seward wrote a check for in 1867 to purchase the territory from Russia. Who knows what Trump’s price might be to sell it back, with hotel rights?

Far-fetched? Will there be any other American adults in the room who know what they’re doing? And will they realize that even giving Alaska back to Russia will not make Americans forget about those Epstein files?

By Bob Gaydos

‘Tis a word that I see that simply can’t be with letters like N,M,J and B, yet the puzzle insists and the poets say, you can make a word with letters like MBN and J.

Ok?

‘Tis a gimmick, a tool, a conceit if you will, that poets employ when they’ve more to say still and a flow to maintain so punctuation must go and critics refrain.

Enjambment.

Spelling Bee, I hate thee for hours of head-scratching misery, seeking to unravel the ultimate word with the likes of NMJ and B is absurd. Beyond belief, nothing but grief to go with my tea. N,M,J and B.

Woe is me.

But Google hath confirmed there is such a word, even though it’s one that I’ve never heard.

To stay healthy, ’tis said, live and learn is the rule, but let’s see if my friend the poet knows this unspeakably unspellable tool.

He does, alas, and impressed that, when asked, he says, “Oh, yes.” Of course, should expect no less since he went to school to learn to do it and does so very well.

What can I say to a poet who not only knows Enjambment but can spell … MBN and J?

Do tell?

Chastened and humbled, I must bow to the pros, to those who know to separate poetry from prose, to Kevin and Mary and others I can’t immediately recall, for knowing ‘bout Enjambment.

Spelling and all.

                                    ****

Footnote: On the very good chance I didn’t make myself clear above, I do the New York Times Spelling Bee word game every morning with a cup of tea. A ritual. Usually do fairly well. I got stuck one recent morning when the source word was enjambment. Tell me you ever heard of it. Oxford: “(In verse) the continuation of a sentence without a pause beyond the end of a line, couplet, or stanza.”

It never came up when I majored in English at Adelphi some 60-plus years ago, but then poetry, as well as the times, are a changin’. Sorry, Bob.

Consider this your English lesson for the week.

By Bob Gaydos

Donald Trump talks to the press from the roof of the White House. Really.

  In a Trumpian world in which a week (at least it seems like a week) starts with the woman in charge of providing the monthly labor statistics being fired because Trump didn’t like the numbers and ends with Trump wandering around the roof of the White House shouting answers to questions from reporters down on the ground, it’s good to have Jimmy Breslin’s approach to the news available.

   So …

— Maybe it’s just me, but: Really? He fired Erika McEntarfer, commissioner of the Bureau of Labor Statistics, just because the July jobs report was disastrous and he’s been lying to us constantly that everything was rosy? I mean, how did he keep any employees at all his businesses with this approach? The casino, the Plaza, the airline, the college … oh, right, they all went bankrupt and he fired everybody. Guess he likes to say, “You’re fired!” And blaming others for his failures. This one is especially unhinged and, considering his hiring philosophy and penchant for lying, it will be anyone’s guess as to whether to believe the next monthly report.

— Maybe it’s just me, but: The Smithsonian Institution quietly removing any mention of the two impeachments on Trump’s record was particularly disappointing. Erasing history is a hallmark of fascist societies. The secret removal left Andrew Johnson and Bill Clinton as the only presidents to be impeached, if one believed the Smithsonianian. People didn’t. They complained. Publicly. The Smithsonian, to its credit, was properly embarrassed. It reinstalled the Russia meddling and the Ukraine meddling impeachment stories, making history accurate again. It’s history. Trump was impeached twice. It still pays to speak out.

— Maybe it’s just me, but: It’s hard for me to get too worked up when Trump reacts to a former Russian president trolling him on social media by noisily ordering “two nuclear submarines” (his words) into waters somewhere around Russia. “I have ordered two Nuclear Submarines to be positioned in the appropriate regions,” Trump announced, scarily (at least to major media). First of all, all U.S. submarines are nuclear-powered. Second of all, submarines that have nuclear missiles are already in waters around the globe and capable of striking Russia. Third of all, Trump’s old buddy Putin wouldn’t let Dimitri Medvedev, a former political ally, get him into another war, which he pretty much said after Trump rattled his subs.

— Maybe it’s just me, but: Bulldozing Jackie Kennedy‘s Rose Garden and announcing plans for a grand, gauche, golden ballroom that will dwarf the White House is Donald Trump to a “T.” Tacky. No class. Also, I think, illegal, since the White House is an official government building. He might need to get a permit, which would probably mean a bribe. He has lawyers apparently willing to do that. Stay tuned.

— Maybe it’s just me, but: Announcing plans to put a nuclear reactor on the moon in five years, as the acting head of NASA did recently, seems to be at the very least, highly optimistic. For starters, the reactor is intended to support a small colony of humans on the moon, but there are as yet no plans to put such a colony on the moon. Cart before the horse? Then there are the 700° daily changes in temperature on the moon, which has no water or air. The timeline, the-out-of-the-blue announcement, the supposed assurance of senior NASA officials serving in a Trump administration that this is not “science fiction,” might lead a skeptic to conclude that this is basically “news” that doesn’t involve Jeffrey Epstein.

— Maybe it’s just me, but: Putting a Fox News drunk in charge of the Pentagon seemed at first to be just the typical Trumpian spiteful, narcissistic need to have sycophants around him. Apparently it’s just policy. If Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth is looking for a female drinking buddy, he now has one – former Fox News loose cannon and Westchester County District Attorney Jeanine Pirro was confirmed by the Republican majority U.S. Senate to head the federal prosecutor’s office in Washington, D.C. Pirro, a sycophant’s sycophant where Trump is concerned, is a conspiracy theorist whose  constant lies about the 2020 election being stolen from Trump contributed to Fox News having to pay $800 million plus in damages to settle a lawsuit. So, nothing new here.

— Maybe it’s just me, but: That same skeptic mentioned above might conclude that moving Ghislaine Maxwell from a maximum-security prison in Florida to a minimum security prison/spa in Texas was an attempt by Trump and his disciples to erase Maxwell’s memory of Donald’s relationships with teenage girls in Epstein‘s Lair. Whatever she says, it won’t work. She’s a known liar facing a 20-year prison sentence. Interview the victims. The story is not going away.

— Maybe it’s just me, but: The roof thing. What the hell was that? Surrounded by Secret Service, Trump appeared on the roof of the White House one morning apparently to survey the changes he has made and plans to make. Like the ballroom he says he and his supporters are going to pay for. Reporters spotting him up top shouted questions. Trump was asked what he was going to build. He said, “Nuclear missiles.” Chuckles. Well at least he didn’t have to stand at a real press conference and try to come up with real answers to real questions. Just another “normal” day at the Trump White House and no one mentioned Jeffrey Epstein.

— Maybe it’s just me, but: If I’m going to keep doing this, I think I’m going to have to come up with a rating system on the absurdity (an all-inclusive, non-profane word for all the negatives imaginable) of news stories emanating from the White House. On a scale of one to five, five would be the most absurd. I’ve got the labor statistics commish and Jeanine Pirro at five. Everything else is at least a two. Feel free to put your ratings in the comments below. Whew.

If you flatten it, you replace it. That oughta be the rule of the road.

By Bob Gaydos

I published this article a couple of years ago and quickly suspected that it’s probably a piece that will bear repeating because (1) there are (hopefully) new readers and new neighbors who will not have seen it and (2) I keep noticing things to add to it.

I was right. This is year three in a row. The need to repeat was prompted by what I see as a disturbingly increasing problem on narrow country roads: getting out of your own driveway. This should not be a hazardous duty mission. Unfortunately, it often is. It boils down to a lack of consideration or understanding. I’ll address the issue one more time in the column below.

***

By Bob Gaydos

For most of my life, I’ve lived in small cities (Bayonne, Binghamton, Annapolis, Middletown) and one large town (Wallkill), which is really a mall-dotted highway surrounded by housing complexes. Throw in a few years living on college campuses. Basically, it’s been city or community living.

When you live with a lot of other people close by and you want to be relatively content, you learn the rules of the road, the do’s and don’ts of getting along. Mostly, it’s mind your own business and don’t make a lot of noise.

A few years ago, I moved to the country, a bit of upstate New York between the Hudson River and the Catskills that is often protected from major weather issues by the imposing Shawangunk Ridge.

Country living means owls, woodpeckers, chickens, coyotes and starry skies, oh my.

It’s nice. Well, usually. It’s quiet. Usually. In any case, it most definitely has its own rules of the road. Things a transplanted city boy ought to know. Something I call country etiquette.

The notion (see how I used the word “notion“ instead of “idea“?) that there was such a thing as country etiquette grew out of a recent conversation about a not uncommon country experience.

A few years ago, our quiet summer evening at home was disrupted by a loud squealing of tires and a loud thud. Right in front of our house.

We rushed out to find a car sitting in a culvert in front of our house, a distraught young woman sitting behind the wheel and our mailbox on the ground, post and all. I don’t recall who called 911, but state police arrived quickly, talked with the driver (who was shaken but not hurt), someone called a tow truck, we went back in the house and eventually everything was back to normal, except for the mailbox. Its career was over.

In short order, we replaced the mailbox and occasionally wondered what happened to the young driver. I suspected alcohol may have been involved.

A couple of weeks later, the whole scene repeated itself. Nighttime. Squeal. Thud. Car. Culvert. Young woman driver. Unhurt. Mailbox kaput.

Deja vu all over again, as Yogi Berra once said. Same follow up. Police. Tow truck. Mailbox flattened.

Again, we replaced it and the new one has survived ever since, although it’s leaning. But here’s the thing. Neither driver offered to pay to replace the mailbox (they both got out of their cars and talked to us) or to have it repaired. Now, it seems to me that a basic rule of country etiquette ought to be that if you wipe out someone’s mailbox (and get caught at it), the decent thing to do is to make it right again. Pay for a new one.

And that’s what got me thinking about other rules of country etiquette. What are some things to help someone new get along with neighbors who may not live right next door? Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

— Having a handy supply of eggs is nice, but keep your chickens in your own yard as much as possible. Free range doesn’t mean the whole neighborhood, or, especially, the busy road. And chickens don’t move that fast.

— Don’t shovel your driveway snow into the road. It’s only extra work for the highway crews and it’s dangerous.

— When driving, wave at people walking along country roads. It’s downright neighborly.

— Walkers, please wear reflective clothing at night. It’s awfully dark out there sometimes and the roads are often winding and have no shoulder. We’d like to get to know you.

— Don’t let your dog walk on the road side. Preferably, don’t walk your dog on the road at all. Some drivers are less attentive than others. (See reference to mailboxes above.) And yes, clean up after Snoopy.

— Slow down and maybe swing wide for people at their mailbox. (A personal peeve of mine.) You can even wave.

— In fact, slow down in general. Posted speed limits are not merely suggestions and police will ticket.

— In special fact (and this is the issue that needs to be readdressed, which I mentioned at the top ), if you see someone backing out of their driveway or road to get on the typical narrow, no-shoulder, two-lane road in the country and you are a good quarter mile away, slow the heck down. Please. Let them get out in peace in one piece. It’s hard enough to back into a narrow country road with trees often blocking your vision without worrying whether that driver whizzing down the road is texting or talking on the phone or so totally engrossed in something on the radio that they don’t see you, even though you see them.

— In further fact, if you’re not going to back up a lot of traffic, just be nice and let people back out of their driveways even if they haven’t gotten their rear end out yet. It’s common courtesy. Yelling through your closed window at the person backing out is not. Being foreign to the area and in oh such a hurry to get to the state highway 5 miles away is not an excuse either. I suspect this may at least partially be the result of more city folk moving to the area, in which case this column should be all the more valuable to them. If you know someone who fits the bill, share it with them.

— Be patient with a farm tractor on the road. He’ll be out of your way shortly, or he’ll pull over as soon as he can. He’s working. Wave.

— Be honest at roadside food honor stands. Act like there are cameras in the trees.

— Free stuff at the foot of a driveway is really free. Don’t be embarrassed. If you want it, take it. Someone always does.

That’s what I came up with so far. If you have other suggestions, please leave them in the comment section.

While I’m at it, I figure I might as well add another feature of country living — a potpourri of handmade road signs. Here are a few I noticed:

— Corn maze, hay ride, pumpkins, pickles, sweet corn

— Beef sale

— Fresh garlic

— Sunflower patch, mums

— Hay

— Honey

— Farm fresh eggs

— U pick pumpkins

— Horse crossing

— Fresh key lime pie,

— We buy ATVs dead or alive

Like I said, nice.

‘Til next time at pet-friendly, open-carry Tractor Supply.