DeMarco: Ozempic and related drugs are tremendous game-changers

The Op-Ed Page

By Paul V. DeMarco
Guest Columnist

EDITOR’s NOTE: What? Three posts from Paul DeMarco in a row? No, the good doctor hasn’t quit practicing medicine to blog full-time. But he had saved up these three healthcare-related columns and sent them to me a couple of weeks back, and to my shame, I’m just getting around to posting them. Thanks so much for sharing your professional perspective on these important matters, Paul!

RFK Jr. promised radical positive change for American health care. So far, he has weakened the CDC’s vaccine advice, presided over the nation’s largest measles outbreak in three decades (the current epicenter of which is Spartanburg), and made inconsequential changes in the food pyramid and food additives.

The real opportunity to MAHA is to increase access to drugs such as Ozempic, Mounjaro, Zepbound, and Wegovy. These drugs are in the class of glucagon-like peptide-1 receptor agonists (GLP-1s). They stimulate the production of GLP-1, a hormone produced by the gut and brain that stimulates insulin secretion, helping lower blood sugar. In addition, they reduce mortality from heart attack and stroke and show promise in preserving kidney and liver function. They rank as one of the most consequential drug classes of the last quarter century.

I’ve spent my entire career trying, mostly unsuccessfully, to help patients lose weight. I started in the 1990s giving out quixotically restrictive diets (a half grapefruit, a slice of toast, and one boiled egg for breakfast, etc). Then in the 2000s, I hoped we could educate our way out of obesity. All we needed to do was put nutrition information on menus. I predicted (obviously incorrectly) that once people realized that a McDonald’s Quarter Pounder with cheese, large fries, and a large Coke was north of 1,500 calories (which is more than half of most people’s daily requirement), they would be running out the door and making a bee line for the nearest grocery store’s produce section.

Obesity is less a personal defect than the natural consequence of a country’s abundance. Once food becomes accessible, inexpensive, and engineered to be delicious, most of that nation’s people are going to eat too much of it. Remaining lean in this environment is possible – about a third of Americans manage it – but it requires a combination of favorable genetics, resources, education, and sustained restraint.

I still encourage my patients to do all the things they already know to do – break up with Little Debbie, eat more veggies, and stay active. But those tired instructions usually fail to make a difference. After decades of futility, I’m glad to finally have something to offer patients that works. The typical weight loss with sustained use of a GLP-1 is 15-20% of a patient’s body weight. For someone weighing 200 lbs., that’s 30 to 40 pounds.

Do I wish that the standard advice was enough? Yes, I would love to have a population of patients that crushed a kale smoothie every day after their 45-minute work-out. But most people don’t, or can’t, live like that. Now we have a drug that gives us the power to navigate the modern food landscape without falling into its many ravines.

Currently, most of my patients taking GLP-1s are diabetics. Watching A1Cs magically normalize is a wonder. For most of my career, we treated Type 2 diabetics with insulin. However, in Type 2, the primary defect is insulin resistance rather than insulin deficiency. If you give a patient enough insulin (sometimes hundreds of units a day), you can overcome this resistance and normalize blood sugar. However, insulin is an anabolic hormone which often causes weight gain.

The great advantage of GLP-1s over insulin is their ability to control diabetes while inducing weight loss. It’s now commonplace for one of my patients to walk into the exam room feeling both healthier and lighter. A weight, literally and figuratively, has been lifted off their shoulders. Some obese patients are not too bothered by the number on the scale. But for others, the lifelong struggle with their weight is shame-inducing. Patients are dogged by feelings of helplessness and unworthiness. I have shared my patients’ joy in both the physical and emotional boosts that GLP-1s provide.

There are, of course, cautions. Not everyone can take these medications. The most common side effect is nausea but there are a host of others, including serious ones like pancreatitis. However, overall, about 9 out of 10 people who start GLP-1s can tolerate them.

Ironically, while RFK Jr. has often criticized reliance on drugs like Ozempic, the administration he serves is moving to decrease their price. The administration has announced agreements with GLP-1 makers Novo Nordisk and Eli Lily to lower prices. One proposal seeks to lower the Medicare co-pay for GLP-1s to $50 a month. RFK Jr. should be championing that and similar ideas. He should intensify the pressure on the companies by educating the public about the economics of the GLP-1 market.

A recent peer-reviewed cost analysis published in JAMA Network Open estimates that GLP-1s cost less than $5 a month to manufacture. To be fair, this does not include research, development, distribution, and capital investment costs. But it’s clear that these companies are generating billions of dollars in profits, much of it from the U.S. market. Over the last several years, prices for GLP-1s have been roughly 5 to 10 times higher in the United States than in other developed nations. For example, in Britain last year, prices were approximately $100 per month compared to $1000+ in the US.

RFK Jr. could be leading the way on increasing accessibility for GLP-1s, rather than being a reluctant follower of a rare sound policy proposal coming out of the Trump White House.

Paul DeMarco is a physician who resides in Marion, SC. Reach him at pvdemarco@bellsouth.net.

A great start, featuring the debut of ABS

Now this is what I call a sports page…

Well, I managed to rush home from school fast enough to catch the last inning-and-a-half of the Red Sox opener in Cincinnati. Consequently, I got to see a bit of baseball history as it happened.

I wasn’t expecting that. I didn’t know about this ABS thing. (Oh, I remember talk about it, but I missed when it became a done deal.) But it came up in the ninth, to the benefit of the Sox.

Roman Anthony had been living up to the hype all through the game. With Bregman gone and Anthony back from being on the injured list, the scribes down in spring training had really been building him up, with such headlines as:

‘He looks like a superhero’: Roman Anthony is already the face of the Red Sox. He hasn’t even played a full season.

When I saw him come up in the ninth, I learned that he’d already had three hits in this game. He was about to do something else, something that no member of his team had ever done.

He had a full count on him, and then the ump called a strike to ruin the outfielder’s excellent day. Anthony immediately appealed the call. I was all like “What?,” but it turned out this was a thing. The verdict of the machine was clear — the pitch was a couple of inches low. He took his base.

Consequently, he and Marcelo Mayer ended up scoring to increase the Boston lead from 1-0 to 3-0. Then Aroldis Chapman took the mound to make the end of all Reds hope official. Very satisfactory. Everything went just as it should, unless you were a Reds fan (which I used to be, back when Johnny Bench was a rookie and Pete Rose still sported a crewcut, but no more).

But back to this ABS thing. I’m trying to make up my mind.

On the one hand, I generally don’t like innovation in baseball. Far as I’m concerned, the last good change in the game was when Branch Rickey brought up Jackie Robinson. That was six years before I was born. Beyond that, I like the old ways. You know me Al.

Sure, umpires experience fits of blindness, but I feel that respecting their calls is like respecting the game. I don’t like to see them dissed like this. I’m a law-and-order guy.

On the other hand, it clearly was a ball, so truth won out. Should we defer to the ump to the extent of denying Anthony his rightful walk?

I dunno. I guess I end up on the side of the machines here, but I don’t feel good about it. Although something the announcers said makes me feel a little better. They noted that Anthony has a great eye, and they speculated that any time he appeals a pitch, he’s likely to come out on top. (He’d been looking forward to the new rule.) And isn’t that fair? If the kid has an eye like Ted Williams, shouldn’t we respect that?

Setting this historical footnote aside, let’s turn to the game, and where we now stand for this season. Dan Shaughnessy allowed himself to indulge in a bit of encouragement today. After 12 grafs of sharing historical anecdotes showing what an old hand he is, he condescended to toss this bone to the fans:

Overreact all you like, Sox fans. After one game, The Red Sox are tied with the Yankees and Orioles for first place in the AL East, Crochet’s ERA is 0.00, Chapman is tied for the MLB lead in saves, Anthony is batting .750, Marcelo Mayer is hitting 1.000 and Sonny Gray — who has never lost a game with the Red Sox — gets the ball Saturday against a Reds team that hasn’t scored a single run this season.

Yeah, I’ll settle for that. Let’s keep up the good work.

A good start…

DeMarco: The Best Model for Primary Care (part 2 of 2)

The Op-Ed Page

This is where Paul’s HH practice is located, at Francis Marion University.

By Paul V. DeMarco
Guest Columnist

My tens and tens of readers out there might remember how I ended my last column, about the pros and cons of concierge medicine. My bottom line was, though concierge medicine is a benefit to the physicians who choose it and to the patients that can afford it, it is ultimately corrosive, ignoring patients with limited means whom physicians have historically had a strong ethical imperative to serve. I ended with a mild teaser: “If you think community health centers (CHCs) are just safety net clinics for those who have no other option, stay tuned.”

Spoiler alert: they are not. Certainly not in Florence County, which is served by HopeHealth (HH), one of the finest CHCs in the state. Again, I will admit my bias – I work for HH. But let me try to convince you that CHCs are the best primary care delivery system.

CHCs are the most accessible, affordable model. We see everyone, we take almost every insurance, and we have a sliding scale for those without it. If you have ever approached the front desk of a medical office other than a CHC without insurance, you know the anxiety that can produce. Some practices refuse to see you unless you pay a certain amount up front. Others immediately put you on a payment plan. At CHCs, you are not treated as unworthy because you don’t have insurance. We say, “No problem, let’s get some financial information so we can place you on our sliding scale. Your co-pay may be as low as $20 a visit.” We also make it our business to help patients obtain the medications they need. HH operates a pharmacy with a team of pharmacists who are well versed in low-cost options for patients.

Although HH is clearly a great place for uninsured and Medicaid patients, it is also an outstanding option for patients who have Medicare or private insurance. Nationwide, of all patients seen at CHCs, roughly 20 percent of CHC patients have private insurance and 11 percent have Medicare. At HH, those numbers are significantly higher – roughly 37 percent of our patients have private insurance and 30 percent have Medicare. That’s a testament to our leadership and the care that we provide. Many patients that can choose any provider they want choose us.

That’s why I work at HH. It aligns with what I thought I was signing up for when I was in medical training. During those days, powered by sense of idealism, I had dreams of how to make a difference in the world. I regularly have medical students in my office now, and I watch them make the same kinds of calculations I was making 40 years ago. I tell them that my idealism has been tempered but remains intact, and that if I had to do it all over again, I would again choose to work at HH.

One of my core principles when I was in their shoes was that I wanted to work in a practice that saw everyone, regardless of their ability to pay. Once you crossed my threshold, your treatment came first, and how we were getting paid would come later. The community health center movement has exemplified that ethic since CHCs were founded in the mid-1960s as part of the War on Poverty. My guess is that without the CHC system, I would not have been able to uphold my principles. I doubt, without an MBA, that I would have been willing to take on the challenge of opening and running a practice that would take all comers.

It is important to acknowledge the federal government’s role in supporting CHCs, which are also called Federally Qualified Health Centers (FQHCs). Federal grants (Section 330) provide 10-25 percent of most center’s budgets. FQHCs receive a higher Medicaid rate than other providers. Those with pharmacies are eligible for the federal 340B Drug Pricing Program that allows us to reduce costs for those who struggle to pay for medications. In return for this support, CHCs are obligated to care for any uninsured patient who seeks care with them.

CHCs offer a wise and effective approach – a partnership between taxpayers and health care organizations dedicated to serving everyone. Anyone can walk into a CHC and be treated, without compromising on quality. CHCs, including HH, deliver high-quality care that compares favorably with other primary care models.

It’s astonishing that in the 15 years I have worked for HH, we have grown from a staff or about a dozen providers when I started to more than 100 providers serving more than 85,000 patients in 2026.

CHCs in general, and HH, in particular, are not perfect. There are ways we can and should improve. But in a health care system that is fraught with fragmented care, perverse financial incentives, and profit-over-patient mentality, it provides a welcome respite, a place where the mission is still clear and the patient remains at the center.

I’m not a big fan of corporate mission statements – they are often empty words. But I like HH’s, especially the part that says we try to “exemplify love for people and passion for their well-being.” Those are not empty words, and could apply to any CHC. They have allowed me and more than 300,000 others across the country – physicians, APPs, nurses, mental health professionals, dental providers, pharmacists, and support staff – to care for patients in a way that has kept our ideals about what medical care could be untrampled.

Paul DeMarco is a physician who resides in Marion, SC. Reach him at pvdemarco@bellsouth.net.

DeMarco: The Paradox of Concierge Medicine (part 1 of 2)

The Op-Ed Page

This photo from a previous post represents to traditional ideal of  medicine. But is Concierge Medicine the way to restore that ideal.

By Paul V. DeMarco
Guest Columnist

Almost all people of a certain age who are concerned about their health wants a primary care provider. I have been privileged to be that person for a small but well-loved group of people for the past 30-plus years. Over the past two decades, a new way of providing primary care has emerged which is often called concierge medicine (CM).

A common concierge medicine arrangement is for a patient to pay a monthly subscription fee. Rates vary, but in the Pee Dee you would expect to pay about $2000/year. In addition, the patient (or his insurance) may have to pay for individual visits above what the subscription allows. The per-member, per-month revenue allows physicians to see fewer patients while generating the same (or higher) revenue. Proponents of CM point to this as a primary motivating factor, which I fully understand. Physicians who practice primary care invest years and hundreds of thousands of dollars training with the goal of developing long-term relationships with patients. But when they begin practice, they often work for hospitals or companies that overload them with patients, not to mention all the documentation and communication a busy practice entails. CM allows physicians to do more of what they trained to do and love to do, spend time with patients in an unhurried way.

Concierge medicine provides a setting in which relationships have time to develop and deepen. Many non-CM physicians, including myself, who work in a typical office practice have their patients’ appointments scheduled 15 minutes apart. That is often not enough time, and part of the reason patients’ waits are so long in practices like mine.

Another positive aspect of CM is the return of the house call. Many CM physicians will visit with patients at home and also still make hospital rounds. I think the renaissance of the house call is a marvelous development. Visiting a patient at home is an intimate enterprise and feels completely different from meeting with a patient surrounded by the generic four windowless walls of an exam room. Patients are often more relaxed, family is more often involved, and occasionally food is offered. Many patients see the house call as a gift and feel a special gratitude. Doctors who visit homes always come away with a deeper understanding of the person for whom they are caring.

As you can tell, I appreciate the CM model. It’s the way primary care should be practiced. I understand the reasons why CM physicians are drawn to it. I personally know some truly excellent concierge physicians.

However, CM is ethically untenable. From Hippocrates onward, the obligation of physicians to provide care to any patient in need, regardless of their ability to pay, has been central. It’s an easy obligation to forget, given the gigantic profits hospital, pharmaceutical, and insurance companies make in our system. But when one becomes a physician, he or she is bound by a moral duty.

Put another way, I have never heard a physician of any kind publicly remark, “I just want to see affluent patients.” Nor have I ever read a medical school application essay with that statement. Our commitment to all patients, not just a select few, is part of physicians’ social contract.

I am not suggesting physicians are required to treat everyone for free. Physicians’ offices have high overhead. It usually takes many support staff-receptionists, medical assistants, nurses, administrators, business managers, etc., to run a successful practice. What I do say is that physicians abrogate a core responsibility of medicine if their business model excludes people below a certain income. Despite what is right and attractive about CM, I think in final analysis it represents a destructive trend in primary care, and ultimately an abandonment of the patients who need us the most.

Therein lies the paradox. In order to practice in a fulfilling way, one that rewards physicians emotionally and financially and satisfies patients, our current medical system incentivizes many physicians to abandon a fundamental tenet of patient care.

There are better solutions. I will mention one in passing and then expand on it and some others in my next column. There is an organization that already exists to provide excellent primary care to all patients – the Community Health Center (CHC). There are approximately 1,400 CHCs in the US that serve more than 30 million patients, almost 9 percent of the population. Full disclosure, I work for one. My CHC, HopeHealth, has more than a dozen offices spread across Florence, Clarendon and Williamsburg counties. If you think CHCs are just safety net clinics for those who have no other option, stay tuned.

A version of this column appeared in the December 17th edition of the Post and Courier-Pee Dee. Dr. DeMarco’s opinions are his own and do not necessarily represent those of HopeHealth.

It’s Opening Day!

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Happy opening day! Baseball has begun! The Red Sox face the Reds in Cincinnati at 4:10 today! (And as a preview, the Yankees demolished the Giants last night, 7-0.)

I hope I get back from class (which starts at 4:25) today in time to catch the last innings.

Aren’t we blessed?

I ran across this image of the Babe and Shoeless Joe, and wanted to use it somewhere. Might as well be here…

On the brilliance of Christopher Guest’s voices

Thinking back to my “Top Five Best Actors” list from last month…

One thing that was wrong with the list — not as wrong as leaving out Gene Hackman, but wrong — is that it fails to acknowledge comic actors.

I thought about that the other night while rewatching “Best in Show,” that descendant of the ultimate mockumentary, “This is Spinal Tap.” This is the one that did for dog shows what, say, “A Mighty Wind” did for folk music. Or “Waiting for Guffman” did for… well, you get the idea.

It struck me again that Christopher Guest, who is in all of those films (and I think directed all of them but Spinal Tap), is a wonder. Let’s just focus on one of the essential skills that distinguish a great actor — accents. (Or perhaps I should say “voices.”)

Among all those mockumentary roles, it’s easiest to remember Guest as Nigel Tufnel in “Spinal Tap.” Listen:

It’s a good accent, although that doesn’t really set him apart. Michael McKean and Harry Shearer are just as good as his bandmates. Americans can take pride in their portrayal of the Three Stooges of rock. We see Brits put on convincing American accents all the time (Daniel Day-Lewis as Lincoln, or about half the “American soldiers” in Easy Company in “Band of Brothers,” or Hugh Laurie as Dr. House, and so forth). It’s nice to see we have some talent over here as well.

(Of course, one might note that Guest had an unfair advantage — his Dad was a British diplomat, and he spent part of his childhood in his father’s country. In fact, he ascended to the House of Lords when his father died. But Nigel Tufnel displayed an accent that was very different from the RP we generally associate with lords.)

But what really got me was his accent — and general characterization — of the man from a small town in North Carolina who brings his bloodhound to the dog show. It’s not just the accent, as perfect as that was (definitely not a cheesy Hollywood imitation of a generic Southern manner of speaking). It was the quality of his voice behind the accent, his facial expressions and other facets that made me like he was a true, unique individual I had met sometime in the past — not a “type.” Listen:

Hear it? There’s finesse in that voice, as well as in the accent, that few actors are able to display.

And it’s much the kind of finesse that Robert Duvall brought to his roles.

I just thought I’d acknowledge that…

What a strange world we live in now

photo by Brian W. Schaller, via Wikimedia

First, the running joke of the 1980s, Donald Trump, became president of the United States of America.

Next, it happened again — in spite of the record two impeachments, his criminal convictions and the fact that his followers had attacked, seized and momentarily held the U.S. Capitol.

At the moment, we’re at war with Iran. All my adult life, every sensible person in this country, regardless of political persuasion, has said that Iran is a problem all right, but one thing we know is that we don’t want a war with those guys, if it can possibly be avoided. And now here we are.

To branch out a bit… this week, I’ve been hearing that 1960s secular saint Cesar Chavez was a lech. Everybody’s disowning him.

Hawaii is so drenched by rain that people are being ordered to evacuate. Hawaii. People , I Iived in Hawaii. They don’t have bad weather. They barely have weather, period. Everything’s just nice. Sure, sometimes there’s a storm 100 miles out in the ocean, but all it does to Oahu is cause awesome waves on the North Shore.

Oh, and here’s the latest: Chuck Norris is dead. See if you can process that.

How is one supposed to make sense of all this? And once that’s done, what is one to do?

I don’t know about you, but I’ve had a long week. Maybe an extra nap would sort all this out. Maybe one that lasts a week. Then baseball will have started

Are we talking history or current events?

The quiz gives you this attention-grabber to start you off…

I’ve mentioned before my fondness for the NYT’s Flashback history quiz (of course I love it — I usually ace it, because it’s about historical context rather than details). But this week it offered kind of a weird one. Weird in the sense that it was even easier than usual.

I don’t always ace this quiz. When I don’t, the thing that trips me up is usually something that happened in the early Middle Ages, or in the eons before Christ. Often, I’m not sure whether some dynasty I’ve barely heard of started in 500 B.C. or 1500 B.C. And when they get into geological eras, fuggedaboudit.

But for this one all the answers — all of them — were in the 20th century. That’s like an allegedly citywide scavenger hunt in which all the items are in your own backyard.

Of course, that can be trickier — the quiz is about knowing what happened before and after what, and if you don’t know the century well, that can be harder than if they’re spread apart. If these had all happened in the 8th century, I’d have been in trouble (that would be the rise of Charlemagne, and… I can’t think of anything else). But not the 20th. Five of the eight answers happened in my own lifetime!

Now that I’ve given that much away, have at it, if the NYT will let you in…

All clear now, but it wasn’t so at the beach

Just got the all-clear on the Tornado Warning a few minutes ago. Of course, the Watch continues until 1 p.m., for Lexington and 17 other South Carolina counties.

It reminded me that things were not so clear, in a different sense, at Surfside this time on Monday. I’m not used to fog like this on the beach, I suppose because we’re usually there only in the searing heat of summer.

I liked it. Quiet. Peaceful. A nice break from the usual, especially on the overcrowded Grand Strand.

The pooch pauses to admire her treasure (foreground).

There was one bit of furious activity. A white pit bull with one blue eye and one brown one was having a tremendous time digging in the sand. Her master explained that she was digging for shells. After a bit, she ran out into the water and start digging there, coming up with a shapeless chunk of former bivalve exoskeleton, about three inches in diameter, that she cherished greatly, taking it here and there to dig in different spots on the beach, sometimes burying her prize but immediately digging it back up.

It wasn’t much of a shell — one of those expendable, ugly flat pieces that you might use to play ducks and drakes with. But dogs aren’t into esthetics. She loved it, for the moment.

Eventually we resumed walking, and her activity was swallowed by the fog.

Just before we turned off the beach to walk back on the streets — there was no fog at all a block or two inland — I paused to capture something we’d been noticing as we made our way down the shore: Gulls what would fly by and then just… disappear.

It was a pretty cool effect. Although it was perfectly understandable, it felt mysterious…

The Philly paper wouldn’t LET me cancel

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Remember my I’ve-had-it-and-I’m-putting-my-foot-down post about canceling my subscription to The Washington Post?

Well, it didn’t exactly work the same way with The Philadelphia Inquirer. Maybe it’s because I lacked the emotional investment. I didn’t have anything against the PI. I had subscribed when they offered me 12 weeks of the digital product for the same amount the Duke brothers bet on whether they could destroy Winthorpe’s life in “Trading Places” — a dollar.

At the time, I thought it might be nice to be able to closely follow my second favorite baseball club through its hometown paper — the way I do with my favorite through The Boston Globe.

But I didn’t. At all. I don’t think I read a single story in the paper in all those weeks. Just too much to do.

So I gave myself a deadline to cancel before I started having to pay the normal rate. The time arrived, and I reached out to the paper. Of course, they didn’t make it easy to find out how to cancel, but I expected that. I persisted until I got as far as an online chat.

How did it go? Here are a few screenshots from the conversation, once I got past the initial bot:

Somehow, I forgot to save the last screen, when she suggested that I simply deal with it next time the same way — by chat, and I responded with something like, “Yeah, because that worked out so well for me THIS time.”

But I wasn’t really irritated. I was impressed yet again by how desperate newspapers are not to lose a single reader — even if it they don’t make any money from it. Of course, when it comes to money, they have begging. Note that part of the first image at the top of the post where it says “Make a Donation.”

They have a special button for that on the homepage:

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Sad, huh?

But hey… the thing is, I don’t like to cancel newspapers. I think of the PI as a really good paper. It was back in Knight Ridder days, anyway. I knew some of the people. So if I can string them along for a few more weeks for just a buck, why not?

Nice work there, Brooke. You got one…

It’s started. What can we do now but hope?

“What I was not prepared to do on Saturday was for the U.K. to join a war unless I was satisfied there was a lawful basis and a viable thought-through plan. That remains my position.”

— Keir Starmer, PM of our longtime greatest ally

And so the PM sits (aside from sending some assets to the area to protect British subjects and interests).

And so do I. This started over the weekend, and I haven’t said a word about it here on the blog. Or about anything else, to be honest. I’ve been busy. But when you have something to say, you find time to say it.

Unfortunately, I have nothing to say beyond what I’ve said in the past. The basic math of this hasn’t changed. To set out the problem:

  • Donald “What-Irrational-Impulse-Am-I-Feeling-At-This-Moment?” Trump is the president of the United States, thanks to the fact that the American electorate has gone mad. If any other president in U.S. history were telling me this battle is unavoidable I would have a basis for trusting him.
  • I could do that because the possibility of an unavoidable war with Iran has been one of the standing threats for this country since the late 1980s. Handling the real threats Iran presents while avoiding that war has been a top American priority for all that time, because such a war would be far too destructive — for us, for them and for the world.
  • We haven’t wanted war despite the fact that the post-shah Iran was largely founded upon hatred of the United States and any country resembling the Great Satan; the additional fact that Iran is the world’s dominant force in supporting terrorism here, there and everywhere, including the Oct. 7, 2023, attacks that pulled Israel into the war that Hamas wanted so much; and the biggest fact of all, that Iran has been obsessed with, whatever the risk, developing the capacity to hurl nuclear weapons at the U.S., Israel and anyone else who has made their list. (That list tends be quite long, including non-Shiite states in the area.) And Iran is not inclined to send indignant notes to those on its list. It is far more inclined toward the apocalyptic approach.
  • So leaders of the United States, a once-rational country, have until now done what they could to contain that nuclear threat, short of outright war. But our presidents and their administrations have known that the time may come when we have to go in “bigly,” despite the fact that we believe the oppressed people of Iran have kindly intentions toward us — and we wouldn’t want to change that. The hope has always been peaceful regime change.
  • It is possible that before this started over the weekend, we had reached the point when a rational leader would say, “It’s time. The nuclear threat is now imminent, and we have no choice but to go all-out to prevent it.” If Joe Biden, Barack Obama, George Bush fils, Bill Clinton, Bush pere, or Ronald Reagan” announced that, I might be dismayed, but I would accept the situation as necessary. They were all rational men, surrounded by rational men and women who would have done all they could to avoid that step, but now saw it as unavoidable.
  • I can’t for a second take that position under the present circumstances. Donald Trump airs a video of himself in the middle of the night on the weekend wearing a hat that looks like it was bought from a souvenir stand at the Olympics and tells us that in his considered opinion the time has come. And I’m supposed to trust him, the convicted felon whose other current international obsession is threatening our closest allies with war if they won’t give him, for some insane reason, Greenland? And remember, this is not like the first Trump term, when grownups like James Mattis were in the room. In the place where decisions are made, there is no one around Trump who is both smarter than he is, and willing to stand up to him.
  • Do I “support our troops” — not only the pilots taking the most immediate risks now, but the soldiers, sailors and marines in the region who are targets for retaliation now, and likely to have to go in later? You bet. Always. I want them coming home safely to their families. I also want them, now that it’s started, to accomplish their missions. That means fully destroying Iranian nuclear capabilities, doing the same with conventional capacities (I think; can’t pretend to know what dangers lie in suddenly creating such a vacuum), toppling those presently in power, and standing ready to support a new regime that is better for all concerned.
  • And I want those missions accomplished with zero noncombatant casualties. I know that’s impossible, but it’s what I want. In this real world, though, I just have to hope for the fewest casualies possible. We need the good people of Iran to go home safely to their families. Then we need then to construct and run that new Iran, a place far better than the Iran of the ayatollahs or the shah who preceded them. That, of course, is almost as tall an order as zero collateral damage.
  • I also hope that our own electorate — including all those isolationists who thought Trump was one of them — turn the once-Grand Old Party out of power in the fall, because that would (or at least might) restore the legislative branch as a check on the executive. Then I hope the electorate completely recovers its sanity and elects a president who is entirely unlike this guy or the people with whom he surrounds himself. You know, someone like every other president we’ve ever had.
  • After all, this is why elections matter, and the one we had in 2024 more than ever. If we had put (or kept) a normal person in the White House, that person would have made mistakes, but would have been persuadable to change course. That person would have have been subject to reason, to the law, to tradition, to foreseeable consequences. These ways of changing course are unavailable to us. Trump is immune to such things, with a Congress that doesn’t dare oppose him, because of all those supporters who will back him no matter what.

I’ve set out a lot to hope for, plenty for cynical — or even just plain sensible — folks to laugh at. But what else can I do? No practical path for changing this situation lies before me, or any of us at this moment. All any of us can do is hope — and pray — for the best.

Goodbye to The Washington Post

As of Friday, I will no longer be a subscriber to The Washington Post.

For me, that’s a big deal. I can’t say the Post caused me to become a journalist — I was already a copy boy at The Commercial Appeal when Woodward and Bernstein came out with All the President’s Men — but it certainly encouraged me at a key point in my development, and I’ve admired the paper ever since.

That is, I admired it until quite recently.

At first, I thought it was a good thing that Jeff Bezos had bought the paper — just as long as he stayed out of news and editorial decisions. That was the proper role of ownership back in the Newspaper Age — certainly at the papers where I worked. Of course, the problem with ownership that knows nothing about newspapers is they don’t know the rules.

I became very concerned when, with the country on the line, the paper didn’t endorse in the critical 2024 presidential election. That was a bad shock. But don’t take it from me. Check out what Marty Baron (former executive editor of the paper, and the guy who was running The Boston Globe when it won its “Spotlight” Pulitzer) said about it at the time. A key quote: “This is cowardice, with democracy as its casualty.” Another one: “Spineless.”

That wasn’t quite enough to make me drop the Post, although it should have been. I have a long history of calling newspapers spineless for failing to endorse in far less important elections than that one. But I wasn’t ready to pull the plug.

I’d just been reading, and enjoying, the paper for so many years before that. So I held back.

Then, there was the abominable editorial reaction to our incursion into Venezuela. I mentioned that before. That’s when I started thinking about cancelling. At the time, I wrote to longtime Post op-ed columnist E.J. Dionne to get his thoughts. He indicated that that was further evidence of the problems that caused him to “switch papers.”

Well, that was embarrassing for me. I didn’t realize he had done that, because I had been reading the Post (and all my papers) less over the last year or two. But sure enough, he writes regularly for The New York Times now. You know, the paper that had a far more rational response to the Venezuela thing.

But here’s kind of the last straw…

Not long after that Venezuela editorial, the Post laid off 300 people from the newsroom. Or, as the NYT‘s The Daily podcast put it, “Bezos Guts The Washington Post.”

This particularly trashed such areas as local news, international coverage (at a time when Trump has decided he’s not an isolationist anymore, and is sending troops out to threaten adversaries and allies alike), and the sports department.

While I’m not the greatest sports fan you’re likely to meet, that last category includes two people who I see as some of the best sportswriters in the country.

Remember when I wrote about Kent Babb, my former colleague at The State who’s been doing such a great job at the Post since 2012? He’s gone. Here’s what Kent had to say about that. I haven’t spoke to Kent about it yet, but I’ve finally started reading his excellent book about a school I attended in the mid-60s in New Orleans. I’m sorry it took this to make me pick it up from my shelves of books I fully mean to read, but I’m glad I’m reading it.

Remember back in the fall when I praised a story by Chelsea Janes headlined, “Shohei Ohtani just played the greatest game in baseball history?” She was the paper’s national baseball writer — the kind of title you’d expect in front of a name like Ring Lardner or Red Smith. And she’s good enough for that.

But they dumped her, too. Fortunately, she got a new job right away. But she’s no longer national baseball writer of what was once one of the best papers in the country.

Normally, while I’d be sorry to hear about this monumental development, it wouldn’t make me turn away. After all, I didn’t drop my subscription to The State when it laid me off. Sometimes things can’t be helped.

But this is a special case. The only good thing about Bezos owning the paper was that he has an income flow that seemed likely to be able to prop up the paper for the foreseeable future without causing him to have to cut back on his grocery bill a bit.

Obviously, he’s decided he doesn’t want to do play that role anymore, so I suppose that makes the Post, for the first time since he purchased it, vulnerable to the economic forces that have wiped out newspapers across the country over the past couple of decades.

So… there were, all along, obvious serious drawbacks to having him at the helm. And now the one good thing about his ownership — his willingness to throw money at the paper to prop it up — has disappeared.

So I’m following E.J. I’m out…

As you may recall, it was a great paper when Katharine Graham had it.

Did you feel the earthquake? Did you HEAR it?

Screenshot

I’m talking about the apparent seismic disturbance that went BOOM for a second at 17:17:26 Zulu time today. Apparently, the epicenter was 5 klicks WSW of Irmo.

It shook the house in a way that made me think a tree, or at least a large branch, had fallen on the roof. I checked to make sure my wife and son, who were both here, were OK, and ran outside with dread of what I might see.

I saw nothing.

I checked with a neighbor on the phone, and he said he’d received several reports from people in the community, and according to USGS, it was an earthquake. I went to the webpage about the incident, and took advantage of the opportunity to leave a personal report. I objected this was unlike any earthquake that I’ve ever experienced.

I experienced a few earthquakes when I was a kid down in Ecuador. They were fairly routine, but disturbing — and really freaked out the local folks each time, which intensified the sense of alarm. But those were NOTHING like this.

First, I don’t remember a sound of any kind. Just motion. The building would shake. Small items that were stacked up would fall over. Furniture would shake enough that it would start shimmying across the floor. Most of all, it would last for several seconds — maybe five or 10.

This was like a tree falling. Crash, and it was over.

But the authorities say it was an earthquake, and in the absence of evidence of what I thought it was, I have to accept that.

What was your experience, if any?

Top Five Actresses ever in film history

Listen for the family whistle… and don’t take drugs!

OK, I hurried up a little too much on the Top Five Actors post — so much that I left off Gene Hackman! — but I confess I’m going to hurry even more on this one, because it’s already been a couple of days…

I limited the men’s list to the last 60 years because I was doing it in the context of thinking about Duvall. I’m going all-time on this one. Well, all-out regarding the history of film (and TV), which is not all that much longer. But I have no means of making an informed judgment of the acting skills of, say, Lillie Langtry. (Although she appeared on film once, in 1913, I never saw “His Neighbor’s Wife.” And even if I saw it, I couldn’t hear her voice — which is kind of key in assessing acting skill.)

Finally, I’m doing my best to make sure this is about acting ability, and not about how attractive these women were or are. Which is not easy to do. Hollywood undermines such a merit-based goal at every step, and has done so since the beginning. It does the same to men — think Clark Gable, Cary Grant, Robert Redford, Brad Pitt. But that’s nothing compared to how the principle (or lack of principle) is applied in the case of women.

Why does this happen? Butts in the seats. The casting directors look for people the slobs out here will pay to look at. American casting directors take it to ridiculous levels. You want to see at least some normal-looking people? Check out British film and TV.

Anyway, I promise you won’t find Marilyn Monroe on the list. But whatever I do, a lot of these women will be more attractive than average.

Back to the subject of actual acting…

Top Five

  1. Frances McDormand — Every time I see her, I think, “Greatest actress,” or at least “Greatest American actress.” My favorite role? The mom in “Almost Famous.” See photo above. But let’s not forget “Fargo.”
  2. Marisa Tomei — Great in everything. Who doesn’t love her in “My Cousin Vinny?” Of course, I think my fave might be her leading role in “The Perez Family.”
  3. Rosalind Russell — I’m sort of breaking my rule here of not basing my judgment on a single movie. I’m putting her here purely for her performance in my favorite comedy, “His Girl Friday.” Anyone who’s as good as good as she was in that is simply that good.
  4. Emma Thompson — Good in everything, of course, but I think my favorite three are the wife who is wronged by that scrub Alan Rickman in “Love Actually;” the lead in “Sense and Sensibility,” as my own 15th-great grandmother in “Henry V.” (Yeah, I’m still that crazy about genealogy.)
  5. Olivia Coleman — I’ve really come to appreciate her over the past decade or so. I could pick almost any of her roles as an example, but I’ll go with an unusual bit of casting. She was cast as the case officer of the title character in Le Carre’s “The Night Manager.” The character in the book was a man. But while there were some bad changes from the book in that show, this one improved the story. Oh, and remember — recently, she was the Queen! (I thought about the other Olivia — de Havilland — but I like this one better.)
  6. Jean Arthur — I’m just always so glad to see her pop up in any of those flicks from the 30s and 40s. If you wonder why, go watch “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.”

OK, I’m running out of time (gotta go to school today), so I’m going to have to really hurry through the…

Honorable Mentions

  1. Katharine Hepburn — Can you believe I left her out of the Top Five? Hey, I’m a rebel. But I place her here with all respect. Certainly go watch “The African Queen” again. But then be sure to check out “Bringing Up Baby.” Very silly, and nowhere near as good as Rosalind Russell’s masterpiece, but I like an occasional screwball comedy.
  2. Jennifer Ehle — Another based on a single role (she was born to star in “Pride and Prejudice“), although I enjoy her in every role — I just don’t see her enough. And before you gripe about too many Brit actresses, remember that this one was actually born in North Carolina.
  3. Emma Stone — In recent years, she’s become an A-lister who can do anything. But I especially like her first big film role, in “Superbad.” Who can blame Jonah Hill for obsessing about her? (And no, that’s not just a beauty thing; it was the kind of kid she came across as…)
  4. Sigourney Weaver — Sure, I liked her in “Alien” and “Alien 2, (speaking of which, guess who I saw at the comic-con at the Fairgrounds last month — Michael Biehn!)” but her all-time best was “The Year of Living Dangerously.” That was also Mel Gibson’s best, and Linda Hunt’s.
  5. Ingrid Bergman — I could say “It’s not because she was beautiful!,” but who would believe me? Seriously, “Casablana” is No. 3 on my all-time films list, and she was perfect in it. So there.

So there you go. I did that too fast, and I’m sure I left out somebody as great as Gene Hackman on the other list, but I’m sure y’all will let me know. (And no, I don’t mean Meryl Streep. She’s good but didn’t make my list. Nor did Cate Blanchett, but I thought about it.)

A single role earned Jennifer Ehle an Honorable Mention.

Top Five Best Actors of the Past 60 years

Consider this a sidebar to the Robert Duvall obit. My headline said he was “The best actor of his generation,” and wishing to be more generous, I added “or since.” We can argue later whether that was grammatical.

But was he? And who are the others in the Top Five — to employ the Nick Hornby standard? Here’s the list. (And remember ladies, you have your own category. I’ll start thinking about a Top Five Actresses list.):

Top Five

  1. Robert Duvall — For reasons already stated. Although now that I make this list, I’m worrying that maybe he should be second to the next fellow in this lineup. But Duvall is the one we’re mourning, and he deserves it, so here he stays.
  2. Daniel Day-Lewis — I no longer need a time machine to go back and meet, or at least see and hear in person, our greatest president. I’ve seen him in the Spielberg movie, and I’m convinced that’s what Abe looked and sounded like. (This scene alone does that for me.) He was great in another movie in which he outdid our countrymen in portraying an archetypical American character — Natty Bumppo (although they didn’t call him that in the movie). Favorite line: When a British officer asks “How is it you are heading west?” at a time when the King needs him to stay and help fight the French, Nathaniel (as they called him in the film) replies, “Well, we kind of face to the north, and real sudden-like, turn left.”
  3. Denzel Washington — You might not think of him because he fits better into the leading-man movie star category that your great actors seldom enter. But he is a leading man with extraordinary depth. The first time I remember seeing him was in “Glory,” and I just thought, where did they get this guy? He would crack that odd, off-kilter smile that’s hard to read, and you’d realize there’s more to this character than just a bitter man with an attitude. Add to that his deeply flawed hero in “Flight.” Who else could have played that drugged-out pilot? No one, including the others on this list. Perfect fit, without being at all typecast.
  4. Jack Nicholson — How could I put this wiseass on the list? Because he’s a wiseass with depth and range. Consider “As Good As It Gets,” “Carnal Knowledge,” “The Departed.” And then think how his colonel in “A Few Good Men” stands up next to Duvall’s in “Apocalyse Now.” But we haven’t gotten to his best, which you seldom hear about any more. Behold Signalman 1st Class Billy L. “Badass” Buddusky in “The Last Detail.” My dad the sailor was amazed. He felt he knew that guy and served with him on numerous ships.
  5. Robert De Niro — It’s kind of a cliche to put him on such a list and crown him No. 1. Well, he has been great, especially in the first part of his career, in “Bang the Drum Slowly,” “Mean Streets,” “The Godfather Part 2” (people are wrong to say the sequel was better than the first one, but I forgive them because his brilliance blinded them) and “Raging Bull.” But after that, he started moving toward a formula that was still fun to watch, but he wasn’t growing as an actor. Eventually, we get “Analyze This,” which I loved, but he was doing the formula, with lots of this expression. He deserves to be on the list, but not first.

Honorable Mention

I add this category not because I couldn’t stop myself at five. That would be undisciplined and lazy. I think there’s a pretty clear line between those above and those below. But as the title suggests, I thought them worth mentioning.

  1. Edward Norton — He was a Top Five contender with “Primal Fear,”  “American History X” and “Fight Club.” But then what happened? Sure, I enjoyed seeing him in “A Complete Unknown,” but come on — what had he been doing since “Fight Club?”
  2. Morgan Freeman — Great in everything, but as with Norton (and de Niro), the best stuff was awhile back. He was great in “Glory,” but not as great as Denzel Washington. Great also in “Driving Miss Daisy.” I was impressed by him in “Unforgiven.” I loved him as the Lord in “Bruce Almighty,” but it wasn’t something that puts you in the Top Five.
  3. Colin Firth — Always good, and always entertaining — and he has more range than you might think. I recently enjoyed him in an early film that I had never heard of and ran across by accident — “A Month in the Country” from 1987. He was best in the BBC production of “Pride and Prejudice,” of course. No actor should even try to play Darcy after he did. Next best thing after that? “The King’s Speech,” which also featured a fine performance by the wonderful Geoffrey Rush.
  4. Michael Shannon — This is a guy who has Top Five chops, and I just need to keep watching him, in things like “Elvis and Nixon,” “Boardwalk Empire,” and the recent remake of “The Little Drummer Girl.” His agent needs to make sure he doesn’t do any more turkeys like “Pearl Harbor.”
  5. Wes Studi — I would never have thought of this guy, and maybe you don’t even know who he is. But he’s been good whenever I’ve seen him, and he was bloodcurdling amazing in a film mentioned above: “The Last of the Mohicans.” He was Magua, the truly scary guy (not that some of those palefaces didn’t have it coming). And he made him real.

OK, after thinking how scary Studi was as Magua, I started remembering how terrifying Javier Bardem was in “No Country for Old Men.” And then I remembered “Biutiful,” and that turn he did as Desi Arnaz. But I made myself stop. That’s enough for now.

You ever see his time-travel flick, “Déjà Vu?” You should.

The best actor of his generation, or since

Tom Hagen dealing oh-so-patiently with the blowhard Jack Woltz in “The Godfather.”

Sadly, this is a week for obituaries. In fact, we received word of the passing of both Jesse Jackson and Robert Duvall in the same news cycle. It’s just taken me a few days to get to both of them.

The loss of Duvall is hard to take because he projects (still, in his films) a depth of humanity that is too often missing, or hidden, today. Not just in film and other arts, but in other aspects of modern life — especially politics. Fortunately, we still have those films. Tragically, he won’t be making more of them.

The best way I can sum him up is that as soon as I learned that would play a part in a “coming attraction,” I would think this is going to be good, and start looking forward to it. (Of course, directors and fellow performers had their own good or bad effects on the production, but having Duvall on board gave the picture a running start.)

My favorite Duvall roles are not always the most popular ones. He was celebrated for his role in “Apocalypse Now,” and loads of fans who thought they were unique could come up to him and say that they loved the smell of napalm in the morning. But while his performance in that was bright and gripping and entertaining — he occupied the screen fully in every frame in which he appeared, eclipsing the other actors — that’s not my favorite. It’s too cartoonish, and I found it distracting in a film that, after all, was a modernized retelling of Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. At that stage of his career, Marlon Brando wasn’t nearly the actor Duvall was. But his character was far more meaningful to the story overall, and more in keeping with the tone.

What was his most impressive performance? I might think of something else the minute after I post this, but off the top of my head, it would be Tom Hagen in “The Godfather.” He creates a supremely self-controlled man. If you read the book, you know why Hagen was this way. He had learned it from his foster father Vito Corleone. Always keep your cool. Never issue a threat. Never let your enemy see what you’re feeling or thinking. Project yourself as the very model of reasonableness.

That screenshot at the top of this post is from his best scene — when he goes to Hollywood to ask a cartoonish blowhard of a producer to give a movie role to the Don’s godson Johnny Fontane. See that calm, deferential look on his face. That’s all Jack Woltz — the very model of weak man who thinks he’s something special — would ever see of him, until he woke up with a horse’s head in his bed.

It’s hard to project that quality, even when you’re paid to and you’re not personally feeling what the character would feel. Sure, he was a bad guy, but at least a bad guy with admirable qualities.

I also liked his fading country music star in “Tender Mercies,” a beautiful film about redemption. My favorite scene is this one: A woman comes up to him on the street and asks, “Were you really Mac Sledge?” He sort of half-laughs (as I remember; I haven’t seen it in a while), and admits, “Yes ma’am, I guess I was.”

I was never in my life nearly as famous as his character was supposed to be, but I still experience that sort of thing when people recognize me or my name from my newspaper days. I’m no star, but it happens. It last happened just over a week ago. I still haven’t fully figured out how to handle it, beyond saying thanks, but I like the way he did it. (At least the lady didn’t say, “I love the smell of napalm…”)

Duvall traveled around East Texas with a friend preparing for that role. Finally, the friend asked what they were doing and he explained, “We’re looking for accents.”

Again, though I wasn’t a professional actor, I had enough in common with Duvall to identify. Reports The New York Times:

Across a film career that took flight in the early 1960s, he stood out for an intense studiousness that shaped his every role. Even as a boy, in a Navy family that moved around the country, he had an ear for people’s speech patterns and an eye for their mannerisms. “I hang around a guy’s memories,” he once said. Insights that he gleaned were routinely tucked away in his head for potential future use…

I did the same, growing up. I was never fully a part of the communities in which I lived, but I grew up observing them closely and with interest. I suspect that’s a reason why so many military brats become journalists. As for accents — they are a lifelong source of fascination (and imitation, although I’m not as good at them as when I was young). I’ve been meaning to write one of my too-long-to-get-around-to posts on that subject for years. Maybe I’ll get to it soon.

I look at Duvall on the screen, and I see another guy like that.

I’ll close with a mention in that NYT article of his first film role, which foreshadowed the unique power he would bring to the screen:

That Mr. Duvall could become practically whomever he chose was foreshadowed in his first film, “To Kill a Mockingbird,” a 1962 classic based on Harper Lee’s novel about racial prejudice in a Southern town. He played Boo Radley, the reclusive, hollow-eyed neighbor who fascinates and ultimately rescues the two small children of the defense lawyer Atticus Finch (Gregory Peck).

As Mr. Duvall’s career flourished in the 1970s and ’80s, it surprised many of his fans, on looking back, to discover him in that film. One person apparently not surprised was Harper Lee. When Mr. Duvall landed the part, she sent him a congratulatory telegram. “Hey, Boo,” she wrote. It was, he said later, his only contact with her.

I love that story. That was a very cool thing for “Scout” to have done. And it’s a congratulatory telegram I would certainly frame and put on the wall…

“Boo” Radley at the moment Scout first sees him…

Thanks for caring and leading, Jesse Jackson

I just thought, in light of his passing this week, it would be good to revisit the last time I spoke to Jesse Jackson. It was back in 2015.

It was at an important moment for South Carolina — his state and mine. The S.C. Senate had just voted to unconditionally remove that imitation Confederate battle flag from the State House grounds. As senators emerged from the chamber, I saw him among them. Here’s how I wrote about it at the time:

I was also a little surprised that I was the only media type to call out, “Rev. Jackson,” which brought him over to speak with me. Maybe some of those young media folks don’t know who he is.

Of course, I was more interested in what the senators had to say, but they were all occupied at the moment and, after all, Jesse Jackson is, like me, a South Carolina native. I was curious how he felt about his state today — or at least the SC Senate….

So he came over and started talking. You can hear what he said above. I’m glad I called out to him.

And I’m glad he spent those 84 years on this Earth, doing the best he could to make a positive difference for us all. He wasn’t Martin Luther King, but he was there with him when it mattered, and had been for years, and he was committed to justice and compassion, and he stayed that way.

And I thank him for that.

A little bit of something good

Just thought I’d share this with you because I haven’t posted lately. Occasionally I write something, but then I’m not sure I like it, so it just sits there in draft mode — sometimes for days; sometimes much longer. This happened just yesterday.

And today’s so busy, and tomorrow likely to be more so.

So I just thought I’d share this, which I ran across last night while I was looking for a completely different clip.

And it drew a smile. A brief one. It’s not the whole song — it runs just slightly over a minute. But hey, you’re having a busy Monday, too, right? You don’t need the whole thing. I just thought you’d like seeing Johnny, looking all young and healthy and saying generous things about Bob.

So enjoy this before you move on to the next thing you do. Just give Johnny a nod and continue with you necessaries. You don’t have to thank me or anything. Don’t think twice; it’s alright…

Top Five books I should have read by now

If written before 1931, it’s yours for free, anytime.

There is no longer any excuse for any of us not to have read the books we’ve always known we should read.

Of course, there have been free libraries since generations before I was born. But that still left me with an excuse. Not an excuse that most people would stoop to, but it worked for me: If the book is good, I don’t want to read it unless I can keep it. First, I like to read things over and over if I like them. Second, I like to quote from them when I write, which means I want them handy — and I want the very same editions that I first read, because I can usually — or at least, I could usually, when I was younger — go straight to the passage I want within a moment. I’d flip back and forth a few times, realizing it was before this or after that. Then, I’d have a rough picture in my mind of what the page where the passage was looked like, and pretty much precisely where it was on the page.

So it had to be the same edition of the book, and preferably the same, physical book, because books awaken acquisitiveness in me.

But over time, I’ve been reading more and more on my iPad, so that excuse doesn’t work as well.

Most of the books on my list — the things I’ve always known I should read — are now in the public domain, and completely, immediately free to anyone with a computer, a tablet or a smartphone. No trek to the library or a bookstore. Not even a wait of a couple of days while Amazon delivers.

Just tap the button, and bingo! The literary treasures of all time are in your hands, and belong to you permanently.

So what haven’t I read? There are too many even to sort through my mind and recite a reliable Top Five. If you choose to share your own list, I might even replace my list with yours. Even without your suggestion, I might give you a different five on another day. This is just to gig myself to act, and stimulate some discussion, if you’re interested. And I’m limiting myself to a Top Five just to force myself to keep it brief, because I have other things to do.

So here’s my list of Top Five… well, not books in the broad sense. Here are the Top Five books of fiction I should have read by now:

Ran into Joyce in Dublin. Couldn’t admit to him I hadn’t read Ulysses.

Ulysses, by James Joyce. Big embarrassment here. I downloaded it a few weeks before we left for Ireland in 2019. But it turns out that the word on the streets about this book is accurate. It was interesting, but just too dense for me to get very far into it. I’ve read and enjoyed Portrait of the Artist, and of course Dubliners. To make myself feel better, I downloaded Dubliners and read it again on the plane to Dublin. The best story in the book, as I’ve said before, is the longest and last one: “The Dead.” It was as good as ever, and we spent a good part of a day in Dublin looking for the house where most of the story plays out. I had intended to do the same with sites in Ulysses, but it was not to be.

The Grapes of Wrath, by John Steinbeck. I really feel obligated to finish this sometime, and maybe I will. But it hasn’t happened yet. Several years ago, I got maybe halfway through. But there’s so much misery, and, well, I know how it ends. I know what becomes of the slim hopes these poor folks manage to cling to for most of the book. For me, that makes for a high wall to climb. I sort of have to be in a mood for being slapped down to finish this.

The Iliad, Homer. I’ve touched on this before. Until about a millennium ago in the Western world, there was one story that gripped the imagination of the literate, and probably a lot of the illiterate crowd as well. Think you’re tired of Hollywood’s lack of imagination, and repetition of the same stories over and over? Hey, at least they offer some variety (comic book heroes, Tolkien, George RR Martin, Dune, Harry Potter, etc.). Imagine being a Greek or a Roman in ancient times. They had the Trojan War, and that was about it. Sure, there was the classical mythology, but even that gets mixed up into the sage of Troy. As for the Romans, they were so lacking in originality that they based their own mythological founding on the children of a Trojan War veteran. So, you know, I feel like I ought to read the Iliad. Really, I should read it in the original Greek, but that’s not going to happen. Because I lack a basic skill of any educated person a couple of centuries ago.

The Odyssey, Homer. The sequel. I’m actually more familiar with this, thanks in large part to an Italian movie with Spanish subtitles that I saw at the Variedades theater in Guayaquil, Ecuador when I was about 10. I’d kind of like to see that movie again. But I also should read a good translation of the poem. Untill I do that, all I’ve got is my favorite Cream song. And yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s what Spinal Tap was mocking with the ridiculous “Stonehenge.” But I kinda love “Stonehenge,” too.

Moby Dick, Herman Melville. Ultimate embarrassment. Trouble is, it starts out so well — I love the first chapters. But the middle part is horrible. Why couldn’t Melville just stick to the story, instead of wandering off on chapters that read like an encyclopedia entry about whales? I swear I’m going to finish it, and dive in, and after two or three of those tedious distractions I quit again. Call me whatever you like. Call me Ishmael. Just know that I am deeply ashamed, although it’s hard to avoid the temptation to blame Melville.

As I say, I could give you a different five on another day. Don Quixote, anyone? Robinson Crusoe? But I think that before I go, I should give you a separate list of nonfiction.

When I was young, I wasn’t a big fan of nonfiction. “Good book” meant, to me, a novel — or a collection of short stories. But over the years my tastes have grown up enough that I’ve developed more patience, particularly in the realm of history. But if anything, I’m much more sadly behind in that category than in fiction.

Just a very quick list:

The Second World War, Churchill. The author certainly knew the subject, and the subject is possibly THE historical period that has fascinated me more than any other — after all, it put the finishing touches on the world I grew up in. But talk about an intimidating work.

Summa Theologiae, Thomas Aquinas. How can I be Catholic and not have read any work by Aquinas, ever?

Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Edward Gibbon. Another one of my favorite historical periods. Seems like this would be the best one that I haven’t read on the subject. Either that, or Suetonius’ greatest hit.

The Diary of a Young Girl, by Anne Frank. I know the story. My wife and I spent our last evening in Amsterdam a couple of years ago visiting the house where she and her family hid from the Nazis. I believe I’ve absorbed the lessons to be learned from the book, and can apply them going forward. But I haven’t been able to force myself to witness the horror of it, page after page, knowing that there’s nothing I can do to stop it from happening to this girl, in that time. It’s just too painful. But I still don’t excuse myself.

The Holy Bible (and those of you who think this is all fiction, including the New Testament — just go make your own list). To paraphrase myself, how can I be a Christian and not have read this through? Maybe on some subconscious level, this is another reason why I converted to Catholicism (the main reason is suggested within that Joyce story, “The Dead”). Baptists are expected to have read it all the way through. Catholics have long been content with those three years of mass readings, repeated over and over. I mean, I’ve read and read the Bible, and read it and read it, but not straight through all the way. Maybe it’s unnecessary, since it’s not one book — it’s a bunch of books. But it’s one of those things to a Christian, like crossing the English channel to a swimmer. I feel the need to accomplish the feat.

That’s it for now.

Inside the Anne Frank House. I really have to read this one.

Here comes Santa Squirrel, here comes Santa Squirrel…

As you can tell by the sunlight, the above photo was taken a couple of days ago. I shot it out our kitchen window because the squirrel seemed to want me to. He was posing. He seems to say, “Look! Who am I?”

Rather brazen of him, because he’s been stealing the fluff out of a chaise lounge cushion on our deck for some time. Which is OK. Once it got that hole in it, might as well let the critters make what use they can of it.

We assume they’re using it for a nest or something. If not, it’s just malicious destruction. Again this morning, my wife saw him out there and said yet again, “I hope they’re building a nest…”

My response? I don’t think they’re dumb enough to run back and forth through the snow if they don’t have a practical purpose for it. I certainly wouldn’t do that to amuse myself.

Of course, I’m not a squirrel. Or a naturalist.  have no idea what kind of domiciles they have. But whatever their homes are like, they could probably use some insulation this weekend…