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

‘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.

By Bob Gaydos

Zohran Mamdani

  Mamdani’s his name. Remember it. Get it right. Two ‘m’s and then an ‘n.’ Next mayor of New York City. His first name is Zohran.

    This all needs a little explaining.

     Given a choice in the June primary of Andrew Cuomo, a former governor who had resigned in disgrace because of numerous accusations of sexual misconduct, and Eric Adams, a mayor whose administration was awash in corruption and who personally had federal bribery and corruption charges against him dropped by the Trump administration in exchange for a promise to cooperate with the ICE roundup of anyone who looks suspiciously Hispanic, New York City Democrats chose a young, Ugandan-born Democratic Socialist, Muslim, naturalized citizen, state legislator as their candidate for mayor.

    Zohran Mamdani.

    It wasn’t close and it wasn’t strictly by default. A bright, personable 33-year-old who has mastered social media skills, Mamdani also clearly had a message that resonated with New Yorkers who are finding it increasingly difficult to afford to live in the city they love.

    While Cuomo and Adams talked about their experience in government, Mamdani spoke of free bus service and free child care for children between six weeks and five years old and “baby baskets” for new parents that would include educational resources as well as diapers and baby wipes.

  He talked of a city-owned grocery store in each borough. The stores would operate on city-owned land or in city buildings, buy food wholesale and be exempt from property taxes, which would keep the cost of the food down.

    He said he would freeze rents for nearly one million New Yorkers by strategic appointments to the board which decides on increases for rent-stabilized apartments. He also promised to triple the number of available affordable housing units, with 200,000 new homes to be built over the next decade.

    You get the picture. He talked to New Yorkers about things that were really bothering them and offered a plan to pay for it all.

   Mamdani said he would raise the corporate tax rate to 11.5 percent, which he says will bring in an additional $5 billion. And, he plans a 2 percent tax on the wealthiest 1 percent of New Yorkers.

    Cuomo called Mamdani’s plans “unrealistic.“ So did the wealthy city dwellers and corporations, not to mention old guard Democratic politicians who depend on their campaign contributions. After Mamdani’s surprise victory, big money began pouring into Cuomo’s now independent campaign for mayor. They also desperately began looking for a candidate who wasn’t a – gasp! – socialist.

    In fact, establishment Democrats sounded just like typical Republicans and that’s a terrible thing for a politician in New York City and much of the country these days. Dismissing progressive ideas as too left, too radical and looking for the comfortable middle of the road, in the process offering nothing to contrast with today’s devastating Republican scorched-earth agenda, is a recipe for loss. The status quo is a no go.

    To be clear, Mamdani is a Democrat who shares the same Democratic Socialist values as Bernie Sanders, a Brooklyn boy: Tax people fairly according to their wealth for the greater good of all people. Make New York City a great place to live and work and raise a family even if you’re not super wealthy. A democracy for everyone. It’s not communism; it’s not socialism. Today, in the age of ever greater corporate power, it’s realism.

      Apparently, a lot of registered Democratic voters agree. They don’t want used or tainted goods. Since Democrats far outnumber Republicans in the city, the Democratic candidate is always heavily favored to win.

   The Republican candidate, staging a reprise of his 2021 losing campaign, is Curtis Sliwa. I honestly didn’t even know he was still around. Sliwa, now 73, is a founder of the once upon a time, Guardian Angels, who patrolled the streets of the city in the 1980s, purporting to reduce crime. Sliwa later admitted to faking some “crimes“ they had “prevented.” He also escaped a kidnapping and apparent assassination attempt by John Gotti Jr., who was charged, but not convicted after three trials. Gotti Senior apparently didn’t like something Sliwa said about him.

     Like everyone else these days, Sliwa has a podcast and, I guess, describes himself as a citizen activist. He was unopposed for the Republican nomination for mayor so you can see why Democrats are favored to win. Unless they sabotage themselves, which they have been known to do.

      The Democratic establishment quickly branded Mamdani too far left to win. Even though he just won. Even though he is young, smart and speaks his mind. Even though he may have given city voters yet another convincing reason to vote for him.

      In a direct rebuke to the Adams/Trump deal, Mamdani says New York City should strengthen its sanctuary city laws and promises to bar Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers from city facilities. Polls say that most Americans, never mind just New York City residents, would support this approach.

     Mamdani. Get it right. Next mayor of New York City.

By Bob Gaydos

Rupert Murdoch
… done with Trump?

Rupert is done with Donald.

The man who created the monster is out to kill it and he’s doing it with the weapon he knows best — the power of the press.

The most telling blows against Donald Trump in the ever-growing scandal over his failure to release the Jeffrey Epstein files, as repeatedly promised in Trump’s campaign for president, have come from a most unlikely source: The dignified jewel in the somewhat tacky Murdoch Empire.

First, the Journal ran a story about Trump’s highly suggestive (they share “secrets”) birthday card to Epstein on his 50th birthday. Then came the report that Trump’s Justice Department (Pam Bondi) had told him in May that his name was all over the Epstein files, which Bondi, of course, had subsequently said publicly did and then did not exist, creating the current furor about them.

This is the well-respected, conservative Wall Street Journal, not Fox-makes-it-up-and-we-love-you-Donald News, not the headline-happy New York Post, definitely not your typical Murdoch sensation-seeing tabloid. Trump even asked Murdoch not to run the story. Said it wasn’t true.

It ran. Trump, typically, sued the Journal claiming defamation. He wants $10 billion. Murdoch said bring it on.

What’s going on?

There are several schools of thought on this. One is that Murdoch, who made his fame and fortune by publishing often made-up stories about famous people in sensational tabloid papers, first in Australia and Britain before coming to the U.S., is looking for a last hurrah. The man is 94-years-old, his sons are taking over the business, but taking down a president could be quite a rush and addition to your obituary, even if the reports are actually true.

The willingness to take Trump on knowing a lawsuit is inevitable probably lies in the law itself. To prove defamation, Trump must not only demonstrate that the statement was false, defamatory, published to a third party, but also that the publisher acted with at least negligence or actual malice in publishing the information.

They knew it was false but ran it anyway. I don’t see the Wall Street Journal’s experienced lawyers allowing anything like that happening.

Which means the stories must be true and the Journal has proof, the best defense. The story is clearly also of public interest, as witness the reaction to them.

The irony, of course, is that, while other media empires — ABC, CBS, The Washington Post — have bowed to Trump threats to sue or to scuttle potential deals by paying him off and softening criticism of him — Murdoch, who, as mentioned, built a fortune on lies, thus becomes the unlikely defender of the free press in America.

My hero.

It has been noted that, unlike years ago when Murdoch was helping build Trump’s cult following by making stuff up on Fox News, Murdoch has no mega deals in the works at this time that Trump could threaten. That obviously only buttresses the courage to, well, what the heck, print the truth.

But why? Why not just focus on tariffs, the Fed and interest rates, the usual Journal fare?

I think Murdoch sees what every rational-thinking American sees: Trump is used goods. His parts are breaking down and even Artificial Intelligence won’t improve the incoherent message. Plus, the Epstein stuff might even be too slimy for the elder Murdoch at this time.

It’s time for a new model to protect the Murdoch family’s interest, if not the average American’s. That would lend credence to the report that, coincidentally, there was a meeting between Vice President JD Vance and the Murdoch clan around the time of the Journal articles. What could they possibly have to discuss?

The only problem I see in this right of succession scenario for Murdoch and Vance is that Vance is not Trump. That is, he is not the swaggering TV personality, making stuff up off the cuff, challenging the system and riling up the cult the way Trump always did until very recently.

Would a Vance threat or lie carry the same weight with MAGA as Trump’s have? Will they ignore the broken economic promises and focus on the hateful bigotry they share? Will Republicans automatically genuflect en masse at Vance’s feet worried about being primaried? Can Vance bullshit people the way Trump can? Is he the new chosen one?

Honestly, I don’t see it. But then, I never saw Rupert Murdoch as the savior of the free press.

*********

Full disclosure: For 23 years, I wrote editorials for The Times Herald-Record in Middletown, N.Y., which was a member of the Ottaway Newspaper Group, a locally owned operation that had been sold to Dow Jones and then subsequently acquired by Rupert Murdoch in the deal that also brought him the Wall Street Journal. As far as I know, he never messed with what went on in Middletown. He also subsequently sold the Ottaway newspaper chain for a profit.

(This is a slightly edited version of a column I wrote June 21, 2019.  Six years later, it still feels appropriate)

By Bob Gaydos

There have been times, like now, when I saw little point in writing about what the pretend president is saying or doing because millions of Americans don’t seem to care. At those times, I often wondered how the scribes who get paid to inform the world of the latest news — and even moreso, those who get paid to have opinions about it — find the energy to cover Trump day after day. It has to be depressing, I thought to myself. I’m depressed and I don’t have to write about it. Does a paycheck work as an antidepressant?

Maureen Dowd finally answered my question. I admit to not being a religious, or even semi-religious, reader of Dowd’s column in The New York Times up to now. That’s changed since I read her May 25 column that carried the headline, “Crazy Is As Crazy Does.” Yes, it was about Trump.

She begins by describing her waking thoughts as another morning arrives. About the talents of an actress and an actor she admires and their TV shows. About a book she has apparently just read or is reading. And then, abruptly, reality sets in: “Once I’m completely awake, a gravitational pull takes hold and I am once more bedeviled by our preposterous president.

“I flip on the TV and gird for the endless stream of vitriol coming from the White House, bracing for another day of overflowing, overlapping, overwrought news stories about Trump. I’m sapped before I arise. …

“My head hurts , puzzling over whether Trump is just a big blowhard … or a sinister genius …”

Me too, I sighed. Glad to know I’m not alone.

I’m also not alone in my belief in synchronicity. Serendipity, if you prefer.

Coincidence? I’m with Carl Jung on that. The Swiss psychologist who gave us the word defined synchronicity as “a meaningful coincidence of two or more events where something other than the probability of chance is involved.”

As in, what are the chances that, being shamed into participating in a decluttering exercise at home, I would “stumble upon” a slim book I’d never heard of that instantly uncluttered my mind on how to explain what in the world was going on in Donald Trump’s mind.

It’s “Bullshit.”

Literally.

Some explanation is necessary.

The house decluttering was precipitated by a prevailing notion that I had collected too much stuff (an occupational hazard, I believe) and some of it had to go, but we would find a safe resting place for the stuff that was worth keeping. One of the safe places was a lovely, old cabinet in which other stuff was resting. Old tapes, photos and books. Among the books was the aforementioned slim volume.

I read the title: “On Bullshit.”

The decluttering came to a momentary halt. Was this a joke? As it turns out, no. Oh, there is humor in this 67-page essay, but the author, Harry G. Frankfurt, it also turns out, is a distinguished philosopher, professor emeritus at Princeton University, which published the book. This was serious. In fact, the book was a New York Times best-seller in 2005 and Frankfurt discusses it on YouTube, which tells you something about my attention to literary news.

But the point, and I’m finally getting to it, is that after months of trying to out-pundit everyone else writing about Trump and continuing to muse on why he does what he does, Frankfurt lays it out in a way that anyone, except maybe Trump, can understand — the man is a bullshit artist.

It dawned on me as I read Frankfurt’s explanation of the difference between liars — which Trump has been crowned champion of all time by those who keep score — and bullshitters. (If the language offends you, I apologize, but Frankfurt says “humbug” is not the same. Also, the times have changed and I’ve already been labeled an enemy of the people for treating the truth with respect.)

As Frankfurt explains, the difference between liars and bullshitters is that liars are acquainted with the truth. They have to be to maintain their lies. There is a discipline involved. Bullshitters don’t care. They make stuff up as they go along, saying whatever seems necessary to them at the time to appear to know what’s going on. It isn’t a matter so much of bullshit being false, Frankfurt says, as of it being phony. It’s meant to convey an impression. It’s like bluffing. And too much of it can carry over into a general laxity about how things really are.

As Frankfurt writes, “The bullshitter is faking things.” It’s not a matter of concealing the truth, because sometimes the bullshitter will speak the truth. It is a matter of concealing “what he is up to.”

Indeed. And those who are good at it seem to have no trouble attracting gullible believers. But that’s a mystery for another day.

Frankfurt mentions patriotic politicians who, on the Fourth of July, give grand speeches extolling all the wonderful things this country represents, not that those things are false or lies or B.S., but because the speaker wants others to believe he believes in them and is a true patriot. There’s a chance we’ll hear some of that next Independence Day, with Trump taking center stage at the Lincoln Memorial.

I know in advance that I don’t necessarily have to write about it because it’s more of the same B.S. Instead, I can read what Dowd writes about it and focus instead on what synchronicity offers as a topic. Like the fact that Frankfurt and I share the same birthdate, May 29. Some stuff you just can’t make up.

********

Update: Professor Frankfurt  died  July 16, 2023 at the age of 94. The decluttering was a relative success. I claimed Frankfurt’s book as mine on the basis of synchronicity and it now resides in the top drawer of a small bed-side cabinet.  I have given up the conceit and occasional depression of trying to out-pundit everyone else on the daily utterings of Donald Trump.  I still occasionally read Maureen Dowd‘s column. 

By Bob Gaydos

Rachel Robinson, throwing out a first pitch somewhere. She’s 103 years old today.

(An occasional public service for people who have jobs. Read to the end.)

7/19/2025 Today’s top newsmakers:

Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein.

Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein.

Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey, Epstein, Jeffrey, Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein,.

Rachel Robinson, widow of legendary Major League Baseball Hall of Famer Jackie Robinson, is celebrating her 103rd birthday.

I have never met Mrs. Robinson and never got to see her husband play in person since my father was a New York Giants fan who hated the Brooklyn Dodgers.

But I did get to meet her husband. As sports editor for The Sun-Bulletin in Binghamton, N.Y., I was covering some kind of weekend sports conference. Different sports, different athletes. Not especially interesting.

But in the middle of a talk on some subject I can’t recall, I noticed a handsome man leaning against a sidewall. It only took a second for me to recognize him — the man who broke the color barrier in Major League Baseball.

After a quick, wow, is that really him? I put down my pad and pen and walked over. He smiled that famous smile. I said, “An honor to meet you, Mr. Robinson.” He said, “Thank you.” We shook hands. Biggest thrill of my brief career as a sports editor. It was 1972. He died not long after and I moved on to another job.

Rachel Robinson, a former professor and registered nurse, founded the Jackie Robinson Foundation in 1973, a year following her husband’s death. The foundation provides college scholarships to minority youth.

Happy 103rd Birthday, Mrs. Robinson.

OK, break’s over.

… Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein.

30

By Bob Gaydos

7/17/2025  Today’s top newsmakers:

Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein.

Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein.

Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein.

Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein.

Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein.

Connie Francis, pride of Newark, New Jersey, died at the age of 87. Francis, who was the unmistakable sound of the late ‘50s and early 1960s, sold more than 100 million records worldwide and broke nearly as many hearts with her powerful, soulful voice.

If you happened to live in Bayonne, N.J., at that time, you couldn’t walk past any bar, door open in summer, and not hear the unmistakable sound of Connie‘s voice coming from the jukebox deep within.

“Who’s Sorry Now?” “”Among My Souvenirs.” “Mama.” “Where the Boys Are.” “My Happiness.”

If you were lucky on some particular summer night if your father walked past the neighborhood gin mill on the way home from work, Connie‘s voice might’ve drawn him in to the cool, dark interior.

He might even have a cold beer. And, he might order a pizza, Bayonne-style (thin and crisp) and back it up with an order of mussels in tomato sauce. And he might bring it home for a surprise supper.

All because he heard Connie Francis calling him. Thanks, Connie. For everything.

… OK, break is over. Back to the news.

Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Jeffrey Epstein.

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