Friends,
Yesterday I heard from an old friend who urged me to slow down. “You’re overdoing it, Bob,” he said. “A new book. Movie. Substack. Videos. You’re pushing 80, for crying out loud. What are you trying to prove?”
I told him I’m not trying to prove anything.
He warned me I was going to harm my health.
Rubbish.
I’m not going to play golf or lie in a hammock and sip mint juleps. That’s not me.
Besides, there’s no way I’ll retire as long as a raving sociopath sits in the Oval Office and destroys everything I believe in.
Trump is 10 days older than I am. If he can cause as much mayhem as he does every day, the least I can do is make a bit of good trouble every day.
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