PT is a merciful business, the idea of young people helping a man of 83 put on his pants. What does an 83-year-old offer society anyway? He is an alien in the world of influencers. I ought to hire a 10-year-old to help me turn on my TV. I read last week that the average price of a new car now is fifty grand, a fact I’m unable to get my head around. My first car, a gift from my dad, was a used 1956 Ford he gave me in 1960 and he paid $300 for it.
I handed out pamphlets for John F. Kennedy in the fall of 1960, and now we see candidates for public office who walk and talk like Nazis — and attract big crowds. Mr. Kennedy would not recognize Washington today. Some days the news is a nightmare. Some days an old man reads the news and finds himself in a foreign country, which is what I like about Manhattan, it feels like the old America I come from. It feels timeless.
