This Guy Don't Know Jack
Hello. Today, I am going to re-visit a subject from last week, which I feel I did not adequately explore for the full breadth of its utter insanity. But first, today’s awesome headline and subhead, from the New York Times:
Supreme Court Adopts Ethics Code After Reports of Undisclosed Gifts and Travel
The code does not specify how the rules would be enforced or by whom.
You don’t need to know any more. “Shame,” as a concept, no longer has any meaning in the United States. This guy is one of history’s biggest wimps.
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Okay. New subject. A hypothetical.
Imagine that you are at Amtrak, awaiting your train, and you find yourself seated next to a fellow traveler who will be on the same train, from, say, Scranton to Washington DC. He is a well-dressed middle-aged man who seems amiable. He is impeccably manicured. His shirt is well laundered, well creased by an iron. He is wearing a Yankees cap. I am making up the following conversation, which did not occur. I was not, in fact, on a train last week. But imagine.
“Hi,” you say. “I grew up in the Bronx, and am an avid fan of the Yankees. We seem to have much in common.”
“My favorite player,” the man says, winningly, “was Don Mattingly.”
“Mine was Roger Maris!” I said. We are from different generations, but belong to the same sports religion. The guy looks like an insurance salesman, but that is only my initial judgment. I know nothing about him.
The guy is polite, but distracted a bit. He’s fiddling with his cellphone. Yet he does not wish to be rude. He is not a rude man.
“You know, there is a great deal wrong with technology,” he says, “but it does allow me to find out if and when my 17 year old son, Jack, is watching porn and doing stuff to himself.”
You say nothing.
“Also, it lets him know when I am watching porn and doing stuff to myself. My son and I have this online deal. We check up on each other. We are notified if the other one is engaged in such untoward activities. And if such a terrible thing would happen, you can see the name of the site he or I are visiting, such as, for example, Chaturbate World of Nipples.“ There’s a link to it.
You say nothing, but ease a few inches away. Gently. Respectfully. Then he says “I earn $180,000 a year but do not have a bank account.” You move a few more inches away. There is now the space of a mature human modern male butt between you.
This, it turns out, is the current Speaker of the House of Representatives, second person in line to be president of the United States. Today’s Gene Pool Gene Poll is:
If you chose Option Two, you are pretty solid with the Republican party of the United States of America. Please move on, nothing to see here.
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Do you have questions? Observations? I will answer them. Send them here:
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Do you want to make “comments,” which I will not answer? Here.
Okay, so something else quite weird actually happened yesterday. I have a good friend who is a surgeon. He sent me an email about a text message I had just sent him that made no sense and he wanted to know if I had an emotional difficulty, or a stroke, or a burst aneurysm, or prehensile dementia, or if I had suddenly grown a tail, or something. I took no offense. He was being a good friend, a concerned medical professional, doing his job. This is, in its entirety, what I had apparently sent him: “It is very hard to deal with someone so personal idea how to communicate other than text.”
I do admit that this message is intriguing, and quite well expressed, even for a professional writer. But I had not sent it to him. I had sent a significantly longer message to Ms. Rachel Manteuffel, my girlfriend, containing some of those words, at roughly the same moment, a message that made actual sense in context. It was understandable, syntactically accurate, and pretty witty, a blazingly sharp deconstruction of the mind of the Millennial, which is Rachel’s mind, because she was born in 1984.
Is there anyone within the reach of these pixels who has any idea what might have happened here? My phone history shows no text to the doctor, and it does show the full text to Rachel, in context.
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Here is the point at which we go real-time. Questions and answers and observations, which I will respond to in real time. . Many of today’s questions and answers and observations involve my callout, this weekend, for your views on what you would first buy if you were gifted $11.26 million by John Beresford Tipton.
Q: Re: Cadillac Eldorado mileage prank that someone wrote in about a week ago- this appeared in the movie "Pete and Tillie" starring Walter Matthau and Carol Burnett, except the car in question was a neighbor's VW Beetle.
A: Yep, you are right. I actually watched it, just to be sure. I got snookered, both by the movie, which wasn’t very good, and by the reader who wrote in.
But it does give me the opportunity to link to this – the single greatest performance of “Ladies Who Lunch,” a song by Sondheim, performed by Carol Burnett, with horrifying sadness. And I say that knowing Elaine Stritch also did it, brilliantly.
Q: I started a small business around 1983. As it began to grow so did my paperwork responsibilities, especially relating to the IRS. After struggling mightily with one particularly annoying tax form I turned in desperation to the IRS Help Line. I called and described my question to the young person who answered. After 10 minutes on hold, they came back with the definitive solution: “Just use your own discrepancies.”
A: Excellent.
Q: The story about the Susanna Gibson “sex-scandal” reminded me of an aspect of political coverage and scandals that has always puzzled me. How is it that the majority of people indulge in extramarital affairs, yet having an affair exposed still torpedoes so many campaigns? It just seems like by now any rational adult would acknowledge that virtually every male and most females lack the ability to retain honesty and fidelity in the traditional marriage relationship. Who are the men who have been sleeping with a coworker (or 2) and suddenly won't vote for a candidate when an affair is revealed? Beyond voting, as a society, why do we still cling to the pretense that having affairs isn't the norm? Is it the Emperor's New Clothes?
A: This is an interesting question, and I am going to throw it out there as a Gene Pool Gene Poll, reduced to its simple core.
Q: If I was to receive $11.26 million I would use it to pay for my annual streaming services. I would use the remaining $42 to take my family to Olive Garden for the never-ending pasta special.
A: Excellent.
Q: I would fund a project to develop genetically altered shrimp with scales (but still no fins), then sit back and watch the rabbis all argue whether that makes it kosher.
A: Also excellent. You guys all realize that you cannot win a damn free subscription for you or someone else because you didn’t submit your email addresses? I am just checking.
Q: I will buy a mint condition 1952 Topps Mickey Mantle rookie baseball card that I will gift to Gene Weingarten two years to the day after my purchase. Any associated taxes fully paid by me. That said, for every week that I do not receive at least 5 inks, I will clothespin that card to my bike’s front tire spokes and ride 10 mile on the C&O canal towpath. If I am not an Invitational Hall of Famer by the end of the two years, the Mantle card gets flushed down the commode like a dead goldfish. Put me in the contest: Jon Ketzner
A: You have just won the first subscription, Jon.
Q: With my 11. Something million, I would support research to bring back the wooly mammoth and genetically modify them to only grow the size of a sheep. I would raise this patent protected animal on a ranch in Canada. This would become the Must Have pet and make billions!! Also their wool would become the most sought after material for making high fashion clothing.
If I were to win the big multi million dollar prize, the first thing I would do is pay off my wife’s credit card debt, and then I’d take the rest of the $ and buy myself a candy bar. )
A: Thank you. Second subscription once you tell me who you are.
Q: My first action would be to hire an estate planner, figure out the best way to pay off the mortgage, provide for my loved ones, cancel the life insurance, etc. But my first purchase would be a big fancy meal at a big fancy restaurant with said loved ones to celebrate.
A: Okay, this made me laugh out loud. I would add that it would involve a trip to Japan, to eat here. The hotel would not have to be fancy. It’s all about the food.
Q: A follow-up question about the Mike Johnson article you linked to in your Substack post from Nov 7 entitled SBF, SOB. I read the article and then I watched the video they linked to and I never heard him once mention masturbation. Arent’t you being disingenuous about his characterization of what Mike Johnson said? You present it as a fact that he wants to know when his son is masturbating. Kind of reminds me of a certain comedian you say was lying to persuade others to believe an agenda. If he has proof that shows Mike Johnson saying he wants to know when his son is masturbating, shouldn't he provide it? It appears to me that the author of the article is making assumptions without any way of knowing if he is correct or not.
A: Men do not “watch” porn. Or “read” porn, which is an even more idiotic verb. Men “use” porn.
I forgot to send this. I probably should have:
TIMELY TIP: If you’re reading this right now, on an email: Click here to get to my webpage, then click on the top headline (In this case, “ This Guy Don’t Know… “ for the full column, and comments, and real-time questions and answers. And you can refresh and see new questions and answers that appear as I regularly update the post from about noon to roughly 1 p.m. ET today.
Q: Jon Gearhart (man, what an aptonym!) asked in the last Gene Pool: "Who wants to ride around naked with a bike seat crammed up their ass??" - perhaps he should check out Queen's album Bicycle Race: https://www.popsike.ch/pix/20140528/321417858605.jpg I remember reading that following the photo shoot, the band ended up paying for 70 new bicycle saddles, since the ones used for the picture could not be returned.
A: Thank you. It does remind me of one of my favorite jokes. Two nuns – a mother superior and a novice – were riding on their bikes on their way to the church. The younger lady says to the other, "I've never come this way before." The mother superior replies, "It's probably the cobblestones."
Q: When I was drafted in 1968 my life long legally blind left eye with 20/400 vision did not affect my eligibility. When it came to rifle training it also was not affected by my vision. When I was sent to apply for a military driving license to operate jeeps and trucks my vision caused me to be ineligible. Then I was trained to drive a tank and my vision was once again not a factor. Military logic at its best.
A: Thank you.
Q: I'd buy a politician. I doubt you could get a senator (not even one of those old crusty ones) for that amount, but I think a representative from one of those fly over states like Montana or North Dakota is probably within range.
A: There’s probably another congressman named Michael Johnson out there.
Q: I'm pretty sure you can still get a Supreme Court Justice for a bit less than $10 million, so I'd bid on Kavanaugh, probably.
A: Nice.
Q: Your mention of Rachel's birthyear provokes me to ask the following question. Any reasonable man in your position would not answer it, but I know you to be occasionally unreasonable, so I will ask: Have you seen the SNL sketch "Meet Your Second Wife," and did you find it amusing?
A: Here is is.
BUT WHAT IS YOUR POINT?
AAAAND we are down. Please send in new questions and observations. Here!
To the guy who would take loved ones out for dinner with the windfall, a story that is not hilarious but sweet: My dad had a job that he used to love but had grown to hate, was at retirement age, and announced his intention to leave. His bosses asked, what would it take to keep you until we can find your replacement? He said, part moonshot part joke, "double my salary." They did! A year later, still not having found someone with all the qualifications and also the willingness to do the job, same question same answer. They gave it to him again. (And they finally found a replacement after that.) He took his kids, grandkids, sister, and niece out to dinner. In Paris. It was **great** -- my dad is strange dude, but really sweet, too.
I answered "Nothing" in the poll because I rejected the premise. There is no direct Amtrak rail service between Scranton and Washington DC. You have to take a bus from Scranton to Philadelphia first and then board a train.