As a journalist, I’m deeply concerned about a chilling effect on freedom of speech in the aftermath of Charlie Kirk’s shocking and senseless killing.

It came to a head a few days ago when late-night talk show host Jimmy Kimmel was pulled from the airwaves indefinitely for what I consider to be innocuous comments about the Kirk’s killer.

This is what Kimmel said about Tyler Robinson, the young man from a conservative Morman family that supports the president who was charged with assassinating the founder of Turning Point USA:

“We hit some new lows over the weekend, with the MAGA gang desperately trying to characterize this kid who murdered Charlie Kirk as anything other than one of them, and doing everything they can to score political points from it.”

It was milquetoast criticism of the MAGA movement – not exactly hate speech that could incite violence, which would have legitimately placed ABC’s broadcast license at risk. Media reports noted that Kimmel “erroneously suggested that Kirk’s killer came from MAGA’s ranks.” I had to re-read his comment and watch the clip about a dozen times before coming to the same conclusion each time: he was saying just the opposite – that the assassin, who became pro-gay and trans-rights oriented, was not part of MAGA.

Am I missing something here? Because if I am, please challenge me in the comments. I write sentences for a living and don’t think there’s any need to interpret Kimmel’s words. There’s no word salad for those on the right to parse; just an assumption.
In the spirit of full disclosure, I met Jimmy soon after he became host of his show – an introduction made by one of his writers with whom I went to high school and our parents were good friends.

I was part of the studio audience a handful of times at the famed El Capitan Theatre on Hollywood Blvd. in Los Angeles where the show was recorded. The highlight was sneaking in my then-17-year-old now oldest step-daughter with a fake I.D. so that she could see her idol Lin-Manuel Miranda up close and personal. It was a thrill for her, and my high school chum generously gave us both a backstage tour after the show.

Unlike President Trump, I think Jimmy is funny and talented. The commander-in-chief has been arguing lately that liberal late-night talk show hosts are failing their respective networks, calling their ratings horrible, and that Americans are tired of their cynical jokes about his administration.

Soon after CBS divulged that it would not renew Stephen Colbert’s contract, Trump speculated that Kimmel might be next – stoking a fire that finally erupted this week. Once that actually happened, he goaded NBC into doing the same with Jimmy Fallon and Seth Meyers. Doesn’t he have more important things to do? Then again, what do we expect from a former reality TV show host, right?

To be fair, it’s worth noting that today’s late-night talk show ratings pale in comparison to what they once were when Johnny Carson and David Letterman were considered appointment television. The culture has undergone a massive shift to where these legacy network shows now compete with alternative sources of entertainment that include cable and streaming services, as well as bite-size entertainment from TikTok, YouTube and other online platforms that appeal to the demographic sweet spot of younger Americans who advertisers covet. So, while Trump’s ratings critique may ring true, it’s disingenuous and manipulative.

His critique is a right-wing version of cancel culture, which was created by so-called “woke” liberals, and it’s just one of several examples of conservative thought police in action, though supporters of this movement who are big on taking personal responsibility and being held accountable for their actions prefer to describe it as “consequence culture.” That’s a catchy phrase for justifying what they’re trying to do.

In my view, this is Orwellian – right out of the dystopian novel “1984,” but it’s also the new McCarthyism. Republican Sen. Joe McCarthy used similar tactics to vilify liberals during the Cold War by accusing them of being communists who were trying to overthrow the U.S. government. It’s the height of hypocrisy for conservatives who’ve long complained about cancel culture to turn around and do the same thing.

Don’t get me wrong: cancel culture on the left is also dangerous. But attempts to cancel careers over comments from either side of the aisle are extremist measures that are just plain wrong in a country built on freedom of expression. This is why I’m most comfortable in the sensible center of the political arena as a radical centrist who embraces creative and pragmatic solutions rather than ideological compromise.

I was so rattled by Jimmy’s fate that I texted my friend asking if his boss’s intention was to simply state the obvious: that Robinson was not part of the MAGA gang, which was in his view cynically trying to score political points by distancing their movement from him.

He knows I’m a journalist, but because of the firestorm of controversy politely declined to comment and thanked me for my supportive texts. I wished him well.
Trump had an opportunity to turn down the temperature following Kirk’s killing but instead doubled down on his critique – blaming liberal Democrats for inciting political violence that, truth be told, happens on both sides. America hasn’t been this divided since the Civil War and is in dire need of repair and unity.
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Ironically, Charlie Kirk understood that better than just about anyone on the left or right. He built a legacy on civil discourse in the public square, especially on high school and college campuses where it’s needed most of all. He also knew better than just about anyone that in order for the healing to begin, it’s important that we covet our First Amendment right without fear of recrimination and that we can respectfully disagree.

I see nothing but sad irony in the senseless fatal shooting of Charlie Kirk, one of the nation’s most influential young conservative voices:

·       A devout Christian, he was killed at a university in Utah – home to the Mormon Church of Ladder Day Saints where religious freedom is highly valued.

·       As a staunch defender of the Second Amendment, he’s on record as having said that tolerating some gun deaths is worth the right to bear arms.

·       The conservative Republican position he so passionately espoused on that issue has in effect turned him into a martyr – a heavy price that his supporters, not to mention wife and two children, will now have to pay.

·       Sensible gun laws restricting the sale of high-powered rifles like the one suspected in his shooting from a distant rooftop could have spared his life.

·       Immediately before the shooting, he fielded a question about mass shootings and gun violence.
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·       Albeit a divisive figure in the eyes of liberal Democrats, Kirk’s greatest asset was calmly inviting an open dialogue with those whom he disagreed. He didn’t shout his views. He spoke to and with people who didn’t share his world view, not at them. He was curious, and he listened. In short, he was hardly a threat to the other side – just someone who imparted information to help change hearts and minds.

Political violence is a symptom of a much larger problem, the unfortunate result of a deeply divided country torched by incendiary rhetoric. Liberals and conservatives have been at war with one another from the very beginning.

The most recent high-profile killing over politics involved the stalking and murder of Minnesota House of Representatives Speaker Emerita Melissa Hortman and her husband, as well as the stalking and shooting of Minnesota State Senator John Hoffman and his wife – all Democrats.

President Donald Trump, who announced Kirk’s death on Truth Social, was himself the target of two assassination attempts on the 2024 presidential campaign trail – defiantly imploring the crowd to fight for their beliefs after being shot in the ear.

The temperature needs to be turned way down when it comes to expressing political differences. Taunting and de-humanizing one another over our beliefs has created the toxic climate we find ourselves in at the moment, and with each day that passes it seems like there’s no turning back to the time of bipartisan mutual respect.

Liberals pride themselves on being tolerant and inclusive of others, as well as empathetic, but they have a long sordid history of shutting down speakers with whom they disagree – the height of hypocrisy.

I can’t help but think about all the times prominent conservatives like Ann Coulter had to cancel speaking engagements at the ultra-liberal University of California Berkeley where my oldest daughter graduated just a few years ago. A liberal friend of mine just today remarked about how he won’t be shedding a tear for Charlie Kirk. Seems like some bleeding-heart progressive liberals would much rather rip the heart out of conservatives than listen to what they say or pursue common-group solutions.

But the far right can be just as culpable – with no shortage of commentators using their bully pulpits to incite division and do their share of demonizing (Tucker Carlson comes to mind). Trump’s MAGA movement has turned George H.W. Bush’s vision of “a kinder and gentler nation” square on its head. The America-first mindset is dripping with anger, resentment and a desire for retribution.

I pride myself on being an objective observer – a registered independent for decades who will cross party lines to vote for someone in the sensible center and journalist who was trained to write balanced stories that tell both sides. I don’t have a dog in this fight and loathed the choice of last year’s presidential election, knowing that existential threats were imminent no matter who would rise to power. I would love to see a third political party challenge Democrats and Republicans, whose parties have become fractured with extreme elements gradually polluting both sides of the political aisle.  

Charlie Kirk, of course, played a major role in getting Trump re-elected. Love him or detest him, his approach was always measured, thoughtful and respectful of those who took issue with his views. He let naysayers get to the front of the line to challenge him. He also displayed incredible courage touring high schools and college campuses where critical thinking sadly is in very short supply to offer strong opinions often before hostile crowds.

I didn’t agree with everything he had to say, but I deeply admired him for being one of the few voices of reason when it came to explaining all the nuances of the Israeli and Palestinian conflict and speaking out against antisemitism.
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Whatever your political beliefs, this is a sad day for all Americans when once again we’re witnessing serious fissures in the republic. Forget Russia, China, North Korea and Iran: the U.S. enemy is deeply embedded within our own borders and bloodlines, and unless we re-learn how to work together to improve our lives, we’re doomed to repeat a vicious cycle of discontent that will continue to strip our collective spirits and souls.

I recently scanned Facebook notifications while on a long-overdue family vacation, hoping to catch up on the latest events or thoughts expressed across my network of FB friends. Much to my horror – and supreme disappointment – I spotted a deeply offensive meme posted by a distant cousin of mine. It was a dagger to my heart and soul.

At the top was a photo of Adolph Hitler, arm stretched in a heil salute with the caption, “we are the master race,” while just below it was a photo of Benjamin Netanyahu, arm also extended to look like the same gesture, with the caption, “we are God’s chosen people.” Underneath both images is the unspeakably vile message: “what’s the difference?”

Not only is this patently antisemitic and pure propaganda, it’s also intellectually dishonest. There’s no moral equivalency. Not even close. Hitler’s hateful rhetoric was couched in Aryanism – an ideology of racial supremacy arguing that Nazi Germany was entitled to rule the rest of humanity. The world forgets that along with an estimated six million who were put to death in the Holocaust, an equal number of targeted “undesirables” – from gypsies and people of color to homosexuals and the disabled – met the exact same fate.

In addressing the second part of that meme, a brief history lesson is in order. The “chosen people” label is an Old Testament reference that simply explains Israelites being chosen for a higher purpose in life, which was to spread the word of God.
However, antisemites have long misconstrued this phrase to mean that Jews believe they are superior to all others. And now critics of Israel are falsely claiming that the government is carrying out genocide against the Palestinian people. When placed within the context of this outrageous meme, rational and empathetic thinkers will arrive at the same conclusion: it’s the latest manifestation of Jew hatred, which in recent years has been normalized through a distorted and manipulative misreading of world history.

Jewish history spans nearly 6,000 years, while Christianity reflects our secular calendar (2025) and the Muslim faith has been around roughly 1,400 years. All three religions stake a claim to Jerusalem, though Jews were obviously the first to live on that land, whose earliest known name was Canaan. Historians say the Roman emperor Hadrian renamed the region “Palestine” to erase the Jewish connection to the land. 

Israel also has been referred to as Zion, which is there the term Zionist comes from – a word that has become weaponized and is widely considered by Jews to be the latest form of antisemitism. Zionism is a movement that emerged in the late 19th century, though it is rooted much earlier in Jewish history and religious beliefs. It supports the self-determination of Jews and their right to a national homeland where they can freely live and develop their culture and identity. 

The United Nations agreed with this assessment (and so did the League of Nations before it), sanctioning the creation of Israel three years after the end of World War II as a safe haven for Jews around the world. But then in 1975 and much to the horror of the Jewish State, the U.N. passed a resolution equating Zionism with racism. The fact is, Israel has been a bastion of freedom in a democracy desert for 77 years. Jews, Christians, Muslims, members of other faiths and non-believers alike live across the Jewish State.

I couldn’t believe that my cousin of all people, whose father was Christian but mother was Jewish (which according to a traditional view among Jews makes him truly Jewish) could post such rubbish. His mother and maternal grandfather, both of whom I loved and adored, would roll over in their respective graves knowing an offspring was capable of consuming such damaging and hateful propaganda.

While not a fan of unfriending people on social media over political differences, I felt this instance was different and took action. I also did the same to a Facebook friend who defended a post demonizing Zionists. These were hostile acts aimed at my very identity. Now mind you, I’m not particularly observant. I was raised in the Reform branch of Judaism and currently serve on the board of directors for a Humanistic synagogue, the newest branch that attracts many Jews who consider themselves atheists or agnostics. Joining up was a means to an end: the easiest path for my son to experience a Bar Mitzvah without the benefit of a Jewish education.

But my level of observance isn’t the issue. Seeing and then processing this meme was a spiritual violation – wrong on multiple levels. Innocent Palestinians sadly arrived at this untenable situation by electing a known terrorist organization in 2006 whose charter advocates driving Jews from the Jordan River into the Red Sea, full stop.

These leaders are not, nor ever have been, the freedom fighters they’re often portrayed to be in mainstream media, which has been relentlessly critical of the Israeli government in a vacuum as the Jewish state continues to lose a propaganda war that has been waged against since its 1948 establishment. And they’ve manipulated public opinion by using Palestinians as human shields in battle and more recently to exploit the distribution of aid that is largely not reaching its targeted audience through stealing and price gouging.

Israelis naively believed they could live peacefully side by side after pulling out of Gaza – until, of course, they no longer could. The October 7, 2023 surprise attack on Israel and the atrocities that followed – the worst committed against Jews since the Holocaust – is evidence of that fact.

Being Jewish today feels shaky when walls are caving in all around us, though not like the popular biblical reference to Jericho whose collapsed walls enabled the Israelites to conquer the city – symbolizing the power of faith, obedience and God's intervention in seemingly impossible situations.

We’re targets of antisemites on both the left and right sides of the political aisle, young and old voices, across the world who continue to commit unspeakable acts of violence against Jews or spew their hate. A one-sided view of Israel has indoctrinated young people, seeding the next generation of antisemites.
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It’s shameful what’s going on and easy to become despondent if you’re a proud Jew like I am, but we’ve been here before and have survived countless pogroms and religious crusades. All we can do is double down on our faith and believe that this hostility will eventually subside, we will again thrive as a people in Israel and the diaspora and continue to help make the world a better place. 

Having watched the Kansas City Chiefs slay the Buffalo Bills for the fifth time in seven post-season matchups, I couldn’t help but marvel at how this latest NFL dynasty finds ways to win such clutch contests. Patrick Mahomes and Andy Reid have been formidable in wresting control of the championship dominance that defined the historic run of Tom Brady and Bill Belichick over nearly two decades.

Making seven consecutive AFC Championship Game appearances and winning three of four Super Bowls (losing only to Brady’s Tampa Bay Buccaneers) since 2018 is astonishing. On February 9, Mahomes will play in his fifth Super Bowl in the past six years and is one of just five NFL quarterbacks to win three or more Super Bowls as a starter, and he’s now on the precipice of a “threepeat,” which has never been done before in professional football. He’s also off to the best start ever among elite QBs as he edges closer to legitimately being in the GOAT (greatest of all time) conversation.

But like Brady and Belichick before them, Mahomes and Reid have found that most fans have grown tired of their gridiron magic. Americans love to build up and then tear down excellence in professional sports (and all businesses, for that matter). We’re fatigued and bored by repeat winners, preferring underdogs or great comeback stories. We want fresh faces – other great athletes like Josh Allen, Lamar Jackson, Joe Burrow or Jalen Hurts taking turns holding the Vince Lombardi trophy. That’s understandable.

What concerns me is how our culture is changing in ways that reflect a downward spiral across society. The United States is a meritocracy – the envy of the world. People have long risked their lives to cross our border and become American citizens. We’re supposed to celebrate and reward champions. While we may root against them out of boredom if nothing else, too many of us abandon or turn on the champs.

Our professional sports leagues are designed to promote parity in draft picks and salary caps. In recent years, we’ve seen an expansion in wildcard slots being added to the playoff mix in hopes of sustaining fan support beyond the regular season. We’ve also seen far too many teams purposely lose in order to secure higher draft picks, as well as load management (primarily in the NBA) and dainty performances in all-star games to reduce the risk of injury.
Look no further than every kid on their t-ball team receiving a trophy for participation lest we offend them, or God forbid, their parents. This has been brewing for generations. The result is coddled kids and helicopter parents die casting a kinder and gentler culture that apologizes for winning and waters down achievement.

Sports radio and social media are full of folks complaining about Mahomes and Reid making it to yet another Super Bowl. Others collectively roll their eyes at TV cameras panning to Taylor Swift cheering on her beau, Chiefs tight end Travis Kelce, in a cushy Arrowhead Stadium skybox.

Why can’t more of us marvel at what this team has actually done? Why can’t more of us simply appreciate their hard work, clutch play and historic performances on the biggest stages? Why can’t we just admire and embrace a winning culture that more of us really need to emulate in our own lives and workplaces when you come right down to it?

American sportswriter Grantland Rice once said, “it’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how you play the game.” Lombardi, who coached the Green Bay Packers, had a very different take: “winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.” Irrespective of Super Bowl LIX’s outcome, I’m hoping that the real winner is a sea change in the culture that stops apologizing for subpar performance, bending backward to equalize the competition and re-learns how to celebrate greatness. 

I see nothing but sad irony in the senseless fatal shooting of Charlie Kirk, one of the nation’s most influential young conservative voices:

·       A proud Christian, he was killed at a university in Utah – home to the Mormon Church of Ladder Day Saints where religious freedom is highly valued.

·       As a staunch defender of the Second Amendment, he’s on record as having said that tolerating some gun deaths is worth the right to bear arms.

·       The conservative Republican position he so passionately espoused on that issue has in effect turned him into a martyr – a heavy price that his supporters, not to mention wife and two children, will now have to pay.

·       Sensible gun laws restricting the sale of high-powered rifles like the one suspected in his shooting from a distant rooftop could have spared his life.

·       Albeit a divisive figure in the eyes of liberal Democrats, Kirk’s greatest asset was calmly inviting an open dialogue with those whom he disagreed. He didn’t shout his views. He spoke to and with people who didn’t share his world view, not at them. He was curious, and he listened. In short, he was hardly a threat to the other side – just someone who imparted information to help change hearts and minds.

Political violence is a symptom of a much larger problem, the unfortunate result of a deeply divided country torched by incendiary rhetoric. Liberals and conservatives have been at war with one another from the very beginning.

The most recent high-profile killing over politics involved the stalking and murder of Minnesota House of Representatives Speaker Emerita Melissa Hortman and her husband, as well as the stalking and shooting of Minnesota State Senator John Hoffman and his wife – all Democrats.

President Donald Trump, who announced Kirk’s death on Truth Social, was himself the target of two assassination attempts on the 2024 presidential campaign trail – defiantly imploring the crowd to fight for their beliefs after being shot in the ear.

The temperature needs to be turned way down when it comes to expressing political differences. Taunting and de-humanizing one another over our beliefs has created the toxic climate we find ourselves in at the moment, and with each day that passes it seems like there’s no turning back to the time of bipartisan mutual respect.

Liberals pride themselves on being tolerant and inclusive of others, as well as empathetic, but they have a long sordid history of shutting down speakers with whom they disagree – the height of hypocrisy.

I can’t help but think about all the times prominent conservatives like Ann Coulter had to cancel speaking engagements at the ultra-liberal University of California Berkeley where my oldest daughter graduated just a few years ago. A liberal friend of mine just today remarked about how he won’t be shedding a tear for Charlie Kirk. Seems like some bleeding-heart progressive liberals would much rather rip the heart out of conservatives than listen to what they say or pursue common-group solutions.

But the far right can be just as culpable – with no shortage of commentators using their bully pulpits to incite division and do their share of demonizing (Tucker Carlson comes to mind). Trump’s MAGA movement has turned George H.W. Bush’s vision of “a kinder and gentler nation” square on its head. The America-first mindset is dripping with anger, resentment and a desire for retribution.

I pride myself on being an objective observer – a registered independent for decades who will cross party lines to vote for someone in the sensible center and journalist who was trained to write balanced stories that tell both sides. I don’t have a dog in this fight and loathed the choice of last year’s presidential election, knowing that existential threats were imminent no matter who would rise to power. I would love to see a third political party challenge Democrats and Republicans, whose parties have become fractured with extreme elements gradually polluting both sides of the political aisle.  

Charlie Kirk, of course, played a major role in getting Trump re-elected. Love him or detest him, his approach was always measured, thoughtful and respectful of those who took issue with his views. He let naysayers get to the front of the line to challenge him. He also displayed incredible courage touring high schools and college campuses where critical thinking sadly is in very short supply to offer strong opinions often before hostile crowds.

I didn’t agree with everything he had to say, but I deeply admired him for being one of the few voices of reason when it came to explaining all the nuances of the Israeli and Palestinian conflict and speaking out against antisemitism.
​
Whatever your political beliefs, this is a sad day for all Americans when once again we’re witnessing serious fissures in the republic. Forget Russia, China, North Korea and Iran: the U.S. enemy is deeply embedded within our own borders and bloodlines, and unless we re-learn how to work together to improve our lives, we’re doomed to repeat a vicious cycle of discontent that will continue to strip our collective spirits and souls.

Between 1997 and 1998, I was managing editor of a national business trade journal in McLean, Va. – moonlighting as a part‑time driver for Takeout Taxi’s Arlington, Va., franchise for fun and profit (but not necessarily in that order). I never got around to publishing my roadside misadventures – reflected in the following vignettes – until now. Hope you enjoy these recollections from years past!
Lest we forget the Friday Massacre
There’s this dowdy, middle‑aged woman named Eva bearing down with all her might on a musty couch in a cluttered, smelly tenement in the center of Arlington with two scrawny Asian boys by her side. She’s about to pay for a grilled chicken Caesar salad with extra dressing and three bacon cheeseburgers with fries. What a juxtaposition. Only thing missing is a glass of cold milk to wash down the chocolate crunch cake she nabbed for dessert. It says on the faxed order that the motley threesome were victims of the infamous Friday Massacre of Nov. 4, 1995, when a string of late or botched deliveries resulted in a $10 credit to her account. That was long before I started working for T.O.T., as it’s known on log sheets at high‑rises and restaurants. Not surprisingly, she checks the Styrofoam containers real carefully to make sure everything’s there. The pressure is killing me. I’m not so sure I can stomach much more second‑guessing. They implore us to check every food item before leaving the restaurant. What does she expect, anyway? I’m a writer, for God’s sake!
A knucklehead and a gentleman
Before T.O.T. actually turned me loose on the rough‑and‑tumble roads of Arlington, they made me run around town with two other drivers for 48 hours. Standard procedure, they say. Which is probably a good idea knowing how some of the drivers can barely speak English (how are they ever gonna read a map? I wonder). Amazingly, they do their jobs quite well – even better than the life‑long resident drivers.
What a contrast in style between the two deliverymen with whom I "trained." My first day out, I shared a ride with the guy who does most of the training for the Arlington Takeout Taxi franchise. He’s an affable, middle-aged gent who looks like a cross between Jim Brown and Johnnie Cochran but with none of the attitude. He’s put several kids through college, has a respectable computer procurement job with the federal government and just let his wife take a cruise with one of their daughters. Is this guy for real? I’m wondering if he’ll adopt me. My parents would understand.
On the next day, they pair me up with a sort of gruff, swaggering fiftysomething union fat cat who slips into the first half hour of conversation how he earns $84,000 a year at his Day Job but has been doing T.O.T. for really one reason: alimony. Turns out that old lover boy (who looks and sounds like John Goodman doing Babe Ruth) is on his third wife. When the conversation turns to who tips well and who doesn’t, he tells me about some guy named Dr. Rosenthal who falls into the latter category. Oh no, I think to myself. I can see it coming a mile away. "Figures," he sneers. "The guy’s Jewish." Little does he know that I’m, ahem, also Jewish. Should I speak up? I do. And it sounds something like this: "Well, you know it can also work the other way. Jews can be pretty good tippers. I should know," I gulp. "I’m ... Jewish." His face turns three shades of red as he tells me how his best friend is Jewish (oh that’s a new one) and he didn’t mean it in a prejudicial sense (what other sense is there, pal?!). He was just raising that harmless little old Stereotype. Didn’t mean anything by it. Just like Shakespeare’s Shylock (that actually wasn’t in the conversation. I just threw it in. I’m not sure he even knows about the Bard of Avon).
The birth of "Pinky"
For financial reasons only, I decide to use my wife’s pink Ford Aspire for deliveries (yes you heard right, the car’s pink). That’s because I don’t want the wear and tear on my 1988 Honda Accord (which, for the record, is a rather handsome Montreal blue). Be careful, my insurance agent warns pitching me extra coverage for my Honda while we’re on the subject. "Wow, your wife’s car really is pink! " says the guy who hired me at T.O.T. "Well, technically it’s Wild Iris," I respond rather sheepishly. "From now on," he muses, pondering that one great radio handle, "you’ll be known as ... Pinky." For the next week, I’ve got the song "Pinky" by Elton John and Bernie Taupin from the "Caribou" album dancing around my brain with its catchy, mid‑tempo melody but insipid lyrics. Here’s a sample: "Pinky’s as perfect as the Fourth of July/Quilted and timeless, seldom denied." What the heck does that mean? And who is this cat named Pinky, anyway? Well, for about six months in ‘96, it was me. And there simply was no getting that song out of my head.
Caught red‑handed
Me and my Big Mouth. I’m unpacking $72.90 worth of grub for a fellow scribe at Inside Washington, a political mag in Crystal City, when I overhear a conversation about how the clean‑cut kid from Jersey who single‑handedly won Game 2 of the Orioles‑Yankees series for the Bronx Bombers was supposed to do the talk‑show circuit the next morning. "They outta shoot that kid," I muttered under my breath, still pissed that the O’s were robbed of the momentum they sorely needed for their first World Series appearance since Cal began The Streak. "ExCUSE me?!" the writer barked. "You shouldn’t have said that before the gratuity." It wasn’t the reaction I expected. Feeling like a scolded child, my knees buckled but sprang to life just in time for me to high‑tail it on out of there. That’s the last time I try and act cynical and aloof in front of My Own Kind!
Life doesn’t always imitate art
In a near remake of the TV commercial from two Super Bowls ago where the Coke and Pepsi guys share a carbonated Kodak moment, I make a friendly overture to The Competition: some dude from Restaurants on the Run who’s parked in front of Red Hot & Blue barbecue by the Clarendon Metro. But he seems startled by my surprise greeting and salutation – almost put off by it. I suppose life doesn’t always imitate art.
"Takeout Taxi (Driver)," the movie
It probably was only a matter of time before I got lost on the I-395/George Washington Parkway/Route 110 quagmire between the Pentagon and Crystal City – not once but twice! Two wrong turns is all it took. What a traffic engineering monstrosity this stretch of road is. It features the absolute worst signage in the Free World. What were county planners thinking? That knuckleheads like me eventually would figure it out? The road rage is building inside. One more bum turn and I’m liable to start spraying bullets in either direction (Bobby DeNiro could reprise the role of Travis Bickle for a soon‑to‑be‑major‑motion‑picture‑titled "Takeout Taxi Driver"). Then again, I’m not having a very good day to begin with. A few hours earlier, an animal control officer for Fairfax County slaps me with a citation for walking my 10‑pound Chihuahua to the condominium trash bin without a leash and not being able to produce the little critter’s county dog license. True story. The best thing that’s happened so far is this woman with a lazy left eye living in a luxury high‑rise tipped me $8. This day is so bizarre. When’s it gonna end?!
Scalded by the pasta primavera
Richard Berendzen used to be president of The American University – until a bizarre and rather embarrassing telephone sex scandal brought his promising career as an academic administrator to a crashing halt. Nowadays, he can be found ordering pasta primavera from California Pizza Kitchen from a posh Crystal City high‑rise. I wanted so badly to make a good first impression but ended up inadvertently burning his hands on the plastic container that I forgot to bag. He was downright grumpy about the scalding (I take full blame for it). So much for confessing how I admired the unusual candor with which he publicly reflected on his sex‑offender recovery at Johns Hopkins.
This was no New York minute
Got bitched out on North Potomac Street by a customer (that’s what they call the people we deliver to) who didn’t want to hear how busy it got at Chevy’s Restaurant, located across from the Pentagon City Mall where parking is a nightmare for T.O.T. drivers because the only place you can really leave the car without getting a ticket is the Crystal City equivalent of a walk across the state of Rhode Island (it’s actually on 12th Street around the comer, where about half a dozen spaces are reserved for deliveries only). Obviously, she doesn’t understand that you can’t just nuke fajita nachos (much less pronounce ‘em). Same goes for the quesadilla appetizer she ordered. The target time, that’s T.O.T. lingo for when the order is expected in the customer’s hands, reads 7:29 p.m. (why can’t they just round these things off?!). I’m not sure exactly when I got there. It seemed like a week after leaving the restaurant. They all seem that way the first few weeks on the job.
The would‑be credit‑card heist
Ran off with a woman’s American Express card – unintentionally, of course. AmEx is such a snooty credit card. If it only had been Visa Gold ... Now that’s a plastic‑coated heist worth pursuing! See, T.O.T. sells each driver an imprinter to run the cards through. Sometimes, it’s tough to hand over the food, operate the imprinter and smile broadly – all at the same time. Something had to give. I guess it was the credit card. Moments after dropping the order of BBQ ribs, loaded baked potato and dinner salad at the FDIC Training Center on North Monroe Street, I noticed the "customer" running out after me – arms flailing in the summer breeze, her rather large frame shimmying across the front lawn. "Oh, I’m so sorry!" I concede. "I’m just not thinking today."
"Stiffed" on Wilson Boulevard
Forty‑five cent tip on $14.55 worth of grub. It’s the closest I’ve come to getting "stiffed." That’s what we in the industry call a tipless delivery. It happens about 1 % of the time – at least that’s what the guys who hired and trained me claim. It’s not a pleasant feeling. This took place about 7 p.m. on the Friday before Labor Day right outside the customer’s workplace on Wilson Boulevard, no less. She probably likes to cross picket lines. Apparently, we were supposed to meet at the building’s back entrance but my dispatcher never mentioned this. So while she waited in her beat‑up car, I hung out in the lobby – until she finally spotted me and motioned me over. When I showed up without a receipt and had trouble making change in five seconds flat, she got snippy and peeled out of the parking lot. I cussed and fumed my way back to the Pinkymobile. Ain’t love a bitch?!
Risking life and limb over a $2.24 tip
It’s just after 10 p.m. and I’m about to leave the Black Eyed Pea in Bailey’s Crossroads with a broccoli‑cheese stuffed potato, salad with bleu cheese dressing on the side, wheat rolls and vegetable plate headed for the tony Lenox Club on 12th Street in Crystal City. Target time reads 10: 19 p.m. I’m told by the radio dispatcher to hustle my butt on this one. Trouble is, the address is cross town. And believe me, it ain’t worth risking life and limb over a $17.18 order with a lousy $2.24 tip ($3 is considered average). But I floor it anyway, hell bent on not screwing up my marching orders so early into this gig. I need the money too badly. So I arrive just in time – only to find that the customer doesn’t answer the door until after five minutes of enthusiastic knocking on my part. Woke the guy up, after all that! I’m not sure if it was the lateness of the hour or what, he was a complete dead ringer for Eddie Murphy. Wow. Never delivered to a celebrity before – or at least some dude who looks like one.
If looks could kill
They said there’d be no scary neighborhoods on the Arlington delivery route, but the stretch of Whitfield Commons on North Thomas Street where I ventured one night certainly qualified as one. A motorist who was backing up from a parking lot I was headed into burned a hole right through me with the dirtiest of looks (can’t say as I blame him, considering my car nearly scraped his on the way in).
How to make a grown man cry
Got ticketed by the cops for the first time. The offense: parking illegally on the comer of 9th and Randolph streets for what I figured would be about five minutes while I ran in a $16.61 order of chips and salsa to the Four Seasons Tanning Salon. Only trouble was I couldn’t find the place (it’s nestled away on the ground floor of a Ballston high‑rise). The damage was $40, which pretty much wiped out my tips for the night. I cried like a baby. Twice. For about 15 minutes in my car while others drove on by. How pathetic. I can’t even handle a parking ticket!
Thank God for talk radio
I sure end up listening to a lot of talk radio between deliveries. It helps drain the boredom that wells up inside. On one drop‑dead gorgeous Saturday afternoon the day after Hurricane Fran pounded the region, causing some of the worst power outages in Virginia history, I stumble upon this 24‑year‑old female caller to Dr. Laura Schlessinger’s pop‑psychology show whose dad doesn’t think she should remarry (her first trek to the altar at age 16 produced three children with a cop who later ran off with a fellow officer’s wife). Apparently, daddy has a boatload of money. But Hubby No. 2 doesn’t mind. He’s willing to sign a pre‑nup. "Just marry the guy, already!" I shout at the radio. "Tell your father to take a hike. Who’s life is it, anyway?"
Nothing but the mole story
Here’s a strange thought: It occurred to me one night when I had way too much time on my hands that there are not one, not two but three women with really conspicuous facial moles working at TGIF on the Arlington-Alexandria line. These are people who deal with the public. One of them is a hostess, for crying out loud. Is it just me or do patrons lose their appetites over stuff like this?
Naked men are pretty good tippers
There’s a naked man standing behind the door in a rundown apartment complex on South 28th Street across from a ballfield. I must have been running about 20 minutes behind because the addresses are literally falling off these buildings. You need a psychic to make a delivery there! When I finally arrive, he takes about two minutes to respond. By the second set of knocks, he’s ranting about needing to slip into some clothes. When the door swings open, it’s as though I’m face‑to‑face with a sort of demented version of Truman Capote (which some might argue is redundant). He fumbles for a pen to sign the credit card slip (would Truman have been that clumsy?), then asks for change of a $10. Why bother mixing cash and credit? You chose one or the other. It’s simply not done! But I oblige anyway, then discover the filthy lucre is meant for my pocket – with an extra $2 tip. He too, the man confesses, once delivered food (pizza, I think it was). He feels my pain and wants to brighten my night. Good thing he wasn’t a trench coat flasher. That could have gotten ugly.
Rosh Hashanah and the munchies
One thing I gleaned from this job is not to spend much time analyzing tipping patterns. Case in point: There’s a twentysomething guy with an amazing view of the monuments living in a luxury high‑rise near the Key Bridge who consumes mass quantities of food every time he and his pals get the munchies. When I delivered $51.35 worth of Indian and Lebanese food one night (a rare dual delivery), the bong hits literally blew past me as I knelt to ink up the credit‑card slip. He tips me $6. Now I’m not complaining, but remember that this is from a guy who clearly has more money than he knows what to do with. That same night, I show up with two bowls of sweet onion bisque soup, a seared fresh tuna, salmon dinner, white chocolate ‑raspberry shortcake, some peanut butter "thing" – in short, The Works. The tip is generous, perhaps because the couple ordering from the ever‑snooty Bistro Bistro remembered how I’d wished them a happy Jewish New Year a few weeks before and figured from the looks of my shnozolla (in this case, a badge of honor) that 1, too, hailed from the Tribe of David. Who ‘sez we’re all tightwads?!
Another one‑armed Republican
Election Day eve at the tony Buchanan House in Crystal City. The man who answers the door at the 10th‑floor apartment lets me in for some light political banter as I write‑up the $34.45 order for a Santa Fe chicken pizza, Portobello‑mixed mushroom pie and chopped salad with spinach and dressing on the side. This is his ninth order with T.O.T. "Looks like Clinton tonight," laments the customer who has use of only one arm, seated below a wall of framed 8x10 of him and Jack Kemp and just about every other blue‑blood Republican out there. Better not mention that I voted for The Enemy earlier in the day. Just might get stiffed.
Two nights of tips down the drain
Got my second ticket: failure to obey a traffic sign posted on North Stafford Street between Wilson Boulevard and Fairfax Drive (again in Ballston). What a bone‑headed move on my part. I saw the cop just sitting there in his cruiser waiting to nab me. I didn’t even bother contesting this one (nor did I shed a tear). The next day, I mailed a check for $85 to the Arlington Treasurer. That’s two nights of tips! Jeeeeeeeeeeze. I’m such a bum.
This cop had heart
Yet another encounter with a man in blue. We’ve gotta stop meeting like this, I’m thinking, as he pulls me over for running a red light at 10th Street and Fairfax Drive (you guessed it, the Ballston area). I’m literally quaking in my boots, figuring that three strikes in as many months on the job and I’ve got to quit this gig. Thinking on my feet, I figure the best defense may as well be a solid offense. So I start disputing the call before he even slams the cruiser door, which pisses him off to no end (who the hell am I? Dennis Rodman?). Now I’m afraid he’s about to draw his revolver and shoot me silly. After a harsh tongue‑lashing, the Cop With A Heart decides to give me a warning. "Everyone deserves a second chance," he says before letting me drive off into the dark of night. I breathe such a heavy sigh of relief that gale warnings could be felt across the Eastern Seaboard that night.
Call security!
I’ll never forget order No. 1473 from Chevy’s Restaurant one sunny afternoon on the 16th anniversary of John Lennon’s murder. What started out as a routine delivery involving roughly $20 worth of Mexican food nearly turned into a brawl between a burly, bushy‑haired man and a female security guard who insisted that the customer pay for his meal in the lobby of the building where he was getting caught up on some work. The man refused, verbally strong‑arming the guard into letting him bring me up the elevator several floors above the commotion where, lo’ and behold, he left his credit card. "How can I get any work done if I have to go down for the food each time it’s delivered," he spewed, nearly foaming at the mouth in the process. When I returned to the lobby, the security guard was already calling for back‑up to eject him from the premises. Talk about heartburn!
I often wonder about that close encounter with off‑road rage. But within weeks of the incident, it no longer seemed to matter. My credit‑card debts were now paid off, and my wife was about to re‑enter the work force. The roadside anecdotes also were about to end. Soon, I was back home on the couch with the clicker, surfing the local 120‑channel cultural cesspool instead of running chips and salsa cross town for $3‑a‑pop of pocket change. Far removed from all the near‑fisticuffs and delivery gripes.
Oh how I miss the road!

In a nation of red and blue, I’m proudly purple.

In fact, I’m part of a political trend that’s taking hold across the United States. Independents now constitute the nation’s largest voting bloc, with an average of 43% of U.S. adults identifying this way in a 2023 Gallup poll, which tied the record high from 2014. Equal 27% shares of U.S. adults identified as Republicans and Democrats, with the latter marking a new low in Gallup’s research.

It’s not surprising considering that most people have mixed feelings about important issues, though many of them pledge allegiance to one of the two main political establishments and won’t cross party lines. We all have a little liberal and conservative in us. We just may not know without taking a thorough inventory of our views.

In my case, I’m concerned about preserving reproductive rights, protecting marginalized communities, criminal justice reform and the environment, but also supportive of personal and fiscal responsibility, scaled-down government, law and order. Some of my thinking is nuanced: I support people who identify as transsexual, for instance, and believe sexual preference is genetically determined. But I’m dead set against minors being given a blank check on transitioning and schools becoming involved in a matter that’s best left to private conversations in homes.

My views also have evolved on some issues. As a Jew who was raised by parents who identified as liberal Democrats during my formative years, I’m deeply concerned about the level of hostility or indifference that the progressive liberal wing of the Democratic party has shown toward people of my faith and Israel, a sovereign nation that has every right to defend itself.

Generally speaking, though, I think it’s safe to assume that many fellow Americans share my frustration with a two-party system whose politicians just as easily can be bought and sold on both sides of the political aisle. So-called K Street lobbyists don’t really care if you’re red or blue; as long as your money is green – and the checks clear. This is where the convergence of politics and business breed corruption.

Also, the federal budget deficit keeps mushrooming on the watch of both Republicans and Democrats, no matter who occupies the oval office or dominates the U.S. Congress. I can’t understand why both parties don’t prioritize deficit reduction, which has widespread bipartisan support as does repairing the nation’s corroding infrastructure.

Another concern is how both parties have splintered into factions that appear to be favoring the most radical wings in a never-ending power struggle for their respective souls and policy platforms. Progressives are gaining ground on moderates in battling for control of the Democratic vision, placing on the ballot the most liberal ticket since the country was founded – surely since 1972. Trumpers, meanwhile, have seized control on the other side and have demonized RINOs (Republicans in Name Only) -- backing a candidate whose cult of personality is outsized enough to dwarf felony convictions.

Comedian George Carlin, one of the most outspoken independent thinkers of our time, was leery of indoctrination on both the left and right – concerned about elitist academics and religious zealots alike trying to control people’s behavior.

Independent voters who feel disenfranchised are tipping election outcomes, especially in battleground states. But the fact remains that it’s dispiriting to contemplate a vote for the lesser of two evils in lieu of passionately backing a candidate I can truly believe in without any reservations.

I felt this way in 2016, 2020 (though not as intensely) and again in 2024. I’ve grown tired of facing another existential crisis with an upcoming U.S. presidential election when friendships and family ties will again sour or break apart. The angst is too much to bear. So brace yourselves, Americans. We’re about to be divided yet again when we really need to unite. The trouble is both candidates are too polarizing for that to happen.

So in the end, I suppose, it comes down to casting a vote that is in lockstep with our general philosophy and vision for where we’d like to see the country over the next four years rather than a love letter to the candidate who will earn our vote. Franklin Graham, whose father was an iconic preacher, said as much recently, but it’s a sentiment that all Americans can – and will – take to heart on Election Day.
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What needs to happen the day after votes are cast – and every day thereafter, for that matter – is that we somehow find a way to respect our differences, accept the outcome and come together. If we once again fail to do these things and lose our collective sense of humanity, then we’re doomed to repeat mistakes that will continue to drive a wedge between friends, family and neighbors. 

In 2020, I ghostwrote a book to help families get their overachieving high schoolers into the Ivy League or other elite U.S. universities. I’m very proud of this project and even had two strangers mention how they were familiar with it from the library or bookstore. Lately, though, I’ve been questioning whether something that started out as a valuable public service will actually put Jewish students – potentially my two teenage children – in harm’s way.

The irony is that it has become a breeding ground for misinformation, propaganda Let me explain further: I’m disgusted by what’s happening on many of these college campuses. Higher education is supposed to offer young minds an opportunity for learning critical thinking and allowing students to make up their own minds about hot topics.  

and conspiracy theories about Israel, as well as hostile to Jewish youth. Professors and administrators are beholden to indoctrination and dogma under the guise of diversity, equity and inclusion programs – not necessarily truth and fairness. The Thought Police are busy patrolling and imposing their small-minded world view on all of us – an Orwellian prospect that I find terrifying.

They also are perpetuating a double standard by tolerating antisemitic expression while condemning other hateful speech. Exhibit A: recent congressional testimony from three top university presidents who were asked a basic question about whether calling for the genocide of Jews violated their moral code and policy for student harassment. Their responses, all predicated upon how it depended on the “context” of those comments, were beyond outrageous. They were lame and spineless, and it was a national disgrace. Condemning this nonsense was an easy layup for those so-called leaders. Instead, they all shot embarrassing air balls.

Pershing Square CEO Bill Ackman, who has bachelor’s and master’s degrees from Harvard, recently voiced several concerns about his alma mater in a post on X. He was deeply disturbed that 34 student organizations a day after the October 7 surprise attack on Israel – before the Jewish nation even took any military action in Gaza – lent their support to Hamas, who he rightly described as “a globally recognized terrorist organization. Instead, they held Israel “solely responsible” for these barbaric and heinous acts, which constituted the worst mass murder of Jewish life since the Holocaust.

Ackman believes diversity, equity and inclusion programs known as DEI are a driving force behind this collegiate hate machine. His fear is that the DEI movement has taken control of speech, serving as the new McCarthyism. Those who dare challenge any of these well-intentioned, albeit misguided, programs run the risk of being ostracized or finding themselves unemployed – another Cancel Culture casualty.

DEI seeks to protect marginalized communities. The trouble is that Jews are almost always left out of this equation, perceived as part of a linear world view as white “oppressors.” Never mind that there are varying degrees of physical traits, religious observance and socioeconomic status among Jews not only in Israel but also across the diaspora. Young minds are fed this information without meaningful knowledge of Jewish history or culture and prejudice is perpetuated for posterity.

Sadly, the seeds of hate are actually sowed in K-12 grades – germinated in schoolyards and from behind closed doors in homes everywhere. My son, who is a high school freshman, recently told me about several antisemitism incidents that started with fellow students questioning Israel’s right to defend itself after the Hamas attacks and a joke one student made during a PE class about gassing Jews.

Thankfully, the principal of his school reacted with sincere outrage, shock and empathy. He was saddened to learn about these comments, expressing that “there is no place in our school/society for any type of hate speech” and pledging to launch an investigation. The heads of Harvard, MIT and the University of Pennsylvania – two of whom have been forced to resign in disgrace – could have learned a career-saving lesson from this man.

Since the Oct. 7 massacre in Israel, U.S. antisemitic incidents have risen nearly 400% – reaching the highest number during any two-month period since ADL began tracking this metric in 1979.

As ADL CEO Jonathan Greenblatt recently noted, “the lid to the sewers is off, and Jewish communities all across the country are being inundated with hate. Public officials and college leaders must turn down the temperature and take clear action to show this behavior is unacceptable to prevent more violence.”

A dear old friend of mine who was living in Israel at the time of the attack and managed to later escape to Italy about a week later referenced having some PTSD from encountering sirens and rocket booms. She also expressed “fear and anger over the lies, distortions and hate directed toward Jews.”

In perceiving the disturbing emergence of a second Kristallnacht, a night of broken glass from Jewish-owned shops that ignited Hitler’s Final Solution, columnist Bret Stephens recently wrote that “we are now witnessing, on a daily and even hourly basis, and on a scale only a few of us thought possible just a few years ago, the same kind of moral and logical inversions; the same ‘heads-I-win, tails-you-lose’ sleight-of-hand reasoning; the same denying to Jews the feelings and rights granted to everyone else; the same preparing of the public mind for another open season on the Jews.”

What transpired on Oct. 7 was easily Israel’s 9/11 – a date that will now live in infamy. The irony is that scores of peace-loving citizens at a music festival who were sympathetic to the plight of impoverished Palestinians were raped, burned and slaughtered. Any Jewish apologists who have criticized the Israeli government’s policies and military action must recognize that this was a bridge too far. The sheer brutality of that surprise attack and atrocities that followed cut like a knife through my heart and soul. I can only hope that most of my fellow Jews feel the same.  

Israel is a sovereign nation that has a right to defend itself. We cannot ever lose sight of the fact that it serves as a safe haven for Jews around the world and is a beacon of hope at a time of rising antisemitism. The 1948 founding came just three years after the end of World War II, a time when six million Jews perished in concentration camps across Europe. It’s morally reprehensible for people to defend what Hamas did or imply that these terrorists were justified in their savagery.

There’s a reason the Israeli Defense Forces are named as such: defense is the operative word. Israel doesn’t initiate attacks; only responds to them. Some countries may think the firepower has been excessive, but how else do you respond to terrorists who literally and figuratively want to drive you from the Jordan River into the Mediterranean Sea?

Meanwhile, antisemitism is also masquerading as international policy with mounting public opinion equating Zionism with racism. The United Nations General Assembly passed more resolutions critical of Israel than against all other nations combined in 2022, contributing to what observers call an ongoing lopsided focus on the Jewish state at the world body. However, the Zionism movement, which dates back to 1897, is about self-determination and statehood for Jews in their ancestral homeland. There is no moral equivalent here to apartheid.

Many of Israel’s critics do not realize, or conveniently forget, that it has offered the Palestinians a two-state solution on five separate occasions – all of them rejected. The first was in 1937 when the Peel Commission which would have given Jews just 20% of the land and the rest to Arab neighbors. Then in 1947, the U.N. voted to create two states, which sparked a war. In 1967 following the Six Day War when the Gaza strip and West Bank were captured by the Israeli Defense Forces, two different peace proposals were floated. Then in 2000 Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Barak met with Palestinian Liberation Organization Chairman Yasser Arafat, which sparked scores of suicide bombings. Finally in 2008, Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Olmert expanded the peace offer to sweeten the deal in talks with Palestinian National Authority President Mahmoud Abbas.

It’s also worth noting that in 2005 the Israeli government unilaterally left Gaza, giving the Palestinians complete control of the territory, which Hamas has since governed, and began dismantling Jewish settlements on the West Bank in the absence of a peace agreement in recognition that occupying these territories was proving to be more of a security liability than an asset.

Israel is held to an unrealistically high double standard that is not fair or reasonable when there’s a true axis of evil all over the world, with the worst offenders including Iran, North Korea and China or Russia (take your pick). Hamas leaders make it a point of burrowing their presence into homes and hospitals in Gaza, using innocent civilians as human shields. They have zero regard for the life of Gazans. Jews and Israeli’s are viewed in overly simplistic terms as oppressors and Palestinians as the oppressed when the conflict is obviously nuanced and solutions are nearly unattainable.
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Too many citizens of the world are on the wrong side of history. As a proud Jew who began wearing a star of David necklace daily for several months, I believe we’ve reached a tipping point in the history of Israel and Israeli-Palestinian relations. We all need to speak out against antisemitism now more than ever. Silence in the face of a worsening of this scourge will only make people complicit in not stopping the hate dead in its tracks. 

I’m a recovering people pleaser in both work and life. For most of my life, I put other peoples’ feelings ahead of my own – always thinking it was the right thing to do. Putting my needs and desires first seemed selfish, so I avoided doing that for decades. But people pleasing is mentally, emotionally and spiritually exhausting and unhealthy, I eventually learned, and breaking that pattern doesn’t make you selfish. In fact, it’s empowering and healthy. That revelation was a game-changer for me.

I discovered a constructive way to please people in my career as a journalist and ghostwriter, using my skills and experience in a way that adds clarity and power to their messages and thought leadership, as well as captures their passion.

Let me explain the former first: Sometimes when I’m interviewing someone for a business-to-business (B2B) trade magazine article, there’s often an understandable fear that arises about not sounding very articulate about the topic being discussed once their views appear in print. To reassure these subject matter experts that they have nothing to worry about, I’ll usually quip, “that’s why they pay me the big bucks. I’ll make you look like the smartest guy (or gal) in the room!” It always elicits a chuckle.

But there’s a larger point worth addressing in more detail. As a recovering people-pleaser from the tender age of about 5, I sincerely like to help make people look good – which brings me to the latter point mentioned in the previous paragraph. It’s why I’ve been deepening my footprint in ghostwriting.

Soon after deciding to bail out of the corporate world and become self-employed, I started with just one client and eventually added more than 130 others to the mix since 2000. A fair share of them have been individuals for whom I ghostwrote commentaries, paid advertisements known as “advertorials” and whitepapers that would be published in B2B trade magazines. Others included those who wanted blogs or website content.
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One of my first clients was a seasoned health care strategist with whom I have developed a deep friendship. Les Meyer and I shared Thanksgiving dinner in the Rocky Mountains where he was living in 2006, while on several occasions in the early 2000s he stayed in the guestroom at my home in Los Angeles when passing through town on business. And that’s just the beginning. He later met one of my sisters and both of my parents during the time he lived in Florida, becoming an honorary Son No. 2 in the hearts and minds of my beloved mother and father whom he befriended and visited when he could.

I also developed a soulful connection with another early client when we embarked on a series of articles that peeled back the curtain on fiduciary responsibilities involving the administration and management of 401(k) plans. His need for my expertise has trickled through the proverbial revolving door since that time during which we have maintained a deep respect and admiration for one another.

There have been countless others that have turned to my ghostwriting expertise, including a handful of individuals during the pandemic who needed my help on a number of disparate projects. They included everything from crafting a compelling argument for acceptance into a medical residency program and articulating a tech startup’s vision for disruption to a college-admissions consultant dreaming of self-publishing a book that would help high school seniors be admitted to an Ivy league university.

Each of these client engagements have proven to be deeply satisfying. I thoroughly enjoy helping people articulate their vision, sound like a professional writer, land clients and ultimately grow their business. Best of all for me, such experiences have enabled me to channel a strong desire to please people in a constructive and profitable way that’s not exhausting and will not cause me harm.
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So if you’d like a helping hand getting your message across because you lack the time or writing expertise, please feel free to get in touch. That will please me more than you can know, and you’ll be doing both of us a favor! 

Communication is key to success in work and life. Our words matter more than we’ll ever know. Think of all the emotionally charged conversations you’ve had with friends or family that went off the rails because of miscommunication or misunderstanding.

It’s no different in the workplace, which is why I strongly believe that every business owner, self-employed individual or person involved in sales should have a handy document that they can share with a prospective customer explaining what makes them unique and worthy of earning new business.

Much to my amazement, however, I have learned that most of us haven’t taken this important step forward. We tend to be complacent, fearful of coming across as boastful or arrogant, or simply don’t make this a top priority.

How do I know this? It started in 2020 when the pandemic blew a gaping hole in my career as a journalist and short-form ghostwriter, and I decided to revisit a happy accident from a decade prior: ghostwriting books. So I launched a campaign on LinkedIn with the help of Bjarne Viken, an outstanding lead specialist in Australia who helped me find clients for whom a ghostwriter was needed to organize and articulate whatever narrative they had in mind for a published book.

As part of the dozens of conversations I had with prospects, there was always a “down-selling” option on the table for those who were reluctant to make a commitment of this magnitude or didn’t quite have the budget for it.
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In a nutshell, I would help them make a compelling case for why they should be hired – a “manifesto” about their unique skillset and knowledge, if you will. Manifesto you say? That has become a loaded word since the “Unabomber Manifesto,” 1995 anti-technology essay by Ted Kaczynski who is serving eight consecutive life sentences without the possibility of parole for horrific acts of home-grown terrorism. But you’d be surprised how that word – and my Unabomber reference – really got people’s attention. I also found that it added some levity and humanized the service I was offering.

And in the end, that’s exactly the point I was trying to convey – to pique interest and stand out from the crowd in a competitive climate. We all possess certain traits or strengths that make us unique and highly marketable.

The goal is to distinguish ourselves in a free market wherein the competition may be intense, but also to as I just suggested, humanize ourselves to people with whom may enjoy a fruitful business partnership. Being able to email a one or two-page PDF or Word document much like a brochure featuring a photo along with an expertly written narrative that summarizes our capabilities will offer a meaningful taste of what we could bring to the table. As a ghostwriter, my aim is to always produce a compelling deliverable that someone can be proud of when trying to grow their business.