It was a dark and stormy night. Not a creature was stirring.
No sounds. No grandchildren. No Internet. No water. The toilets had been flushed but were now empty, not welcoming.
My new laptop with Windows 11 (yuch) had locked up and refused to accept that I was born in Sydney and that my parents had met in Vienna. (It couldn’t find the record of my naturalization?)
It was 3:07 this morning. I had just pee-ed for the third time. (My doctor suggests drinking less water.)
My morning revelries with no water, no Internet and no Windows 11 were giving irritation a whole new meaning. I wanted to sleep.
Earlier that evening on the way back from New York City Susan and I spent an hour marooned in the flooding (it was a weather advisory alert) parking lot of the famous CoCo Farms convenience store near Elmsford, New York. CoCo Farms was founded by Hani Sadallah, whose young daughter, I’m sure, created his famous logo. He hasn’t responded to a call from “the press” — namely me — to compliment the artist.
Lenovo sent me the latest version of my favorite laptop, the ThinkPad X1 Carbon. To get it going, you have to bend the knee to Microsoft’s demanding nonsenses, like where I was born and where I went to school, etc. I also had to give it a password. It rejected my most creative ones — SuperStupid123 and ThisSucks4567.
At 3:00 AM my password creativity is limited.
I’m still wrestling with the new laptop. But the good news is that finally, at 3:17 AM, I got a trickle of water — enough to empty my aching bladder and to refill the toilet bowel.
You may think this is all funny, or deserved. But….
There are lessons:
Home automation can be the petard that hoists you. To appease my home’s insurer, I installed a Moen Flo Water Shutoff thingee:
That’s it, sitting in the middle of my main incoming water pipe.
Home automation means everything is interconnected. When the Internet goes down, so does my water and my washing machine. Worse, I get a barrage of emails from the machine telling me there’s a drip in the house. My extensive prowling at 3:00 AM got me no sympathy from the sleeping house. Still, I couldn’t find the drip. Maybe it was me?
This inanimate, Internet thingee was telling I pee too much. As it acquires more AI smarts I fear that will take my pee-pee into its own hands? And then what? The fear that AGI (Artificial Generative Intelligence) will do what it sees as the “solution” to the problem — no matter how painful or deformative. This is a fear that all the AI experts have and hence why we need regulation.
The good news is that I do have an app on my iPhone which will turn on my Moen water — even if I’m in Timbuktu and they have broadband Internet. I don’t need an app to turn on my other water. It just happens.
This morning, our LG washing machine baulked at not having any water and refused to dry-wash my stinky tennis gear.
An on-line water-less, washing app , someone?
The big beautiful bill will help rich people
I’m not so sure. Here’s my take:
Most rich people don’t pay much tax to the IRS.
They don’t pay much ordinary income tax, because they don’t earn much “ordinary” income.
Rich people own businesses. They don’t pay themselves a high salary. They pay themselves in their company stock..
When they need money (to buy a yacht or a nice Venice wedding), they can sell their stock. They will pay capital gains, which is much lower than what you pay from your miserable salary. The highest ordinary income tax is 37%. The highest capital gains is 20%. (That’s before the bill is passed.)
There’s a better way: You borrow money from your bank using your company shares as collateral. You can spend the money you borrowed any which way you want to. It’s a loan. No taxes.
Rich people can also buy real estate, live off the rents (which are often tax-free because real estate depreciation is generous) and then sell the real estate into a 1031 exchange, which is tax-free. They can also refinance. That’s tax-free also.
The big beautiful bill deprives many of their health insurance — as many as 11 million. People can’t be left to get sick and die, just cause they’re poor and we’re heartless. States and cities will be forced to pick up their health costs by increasing our taxes. My New York State income tax and my local real estate taxes will rise. I’m rich and I’m being screwed.
This morning I asked Perplexity: “Do all economically developed countries have comprehensive healthcare for their citizens?”
It answered;
Not all economically developed countries have comprehensive healthcare for their citizens, but nearly all do—with the notable exception of the United States.
-
Most developed countries provide universal or near-universal health coverage. This includes nations across Europe (such as the UK, France, Germany, Sweden), as well as Australia, Canada, Japan, New Zealand, and others. These countries have systems that ensure all or nearly all residents have access to essential health services, often through government programs, compulsory insurance, or a mix of public and private options1234.
-
The United States is the major exception among developed nations. It does not have a system of universal health coverage. While the U.S. spends more per capita on healthcare than most countries, a significant portion of its population remains uninsured or underinsured, and access to care often depends on employment status, income, and other factors235.
Tennis is fun.
Wimbledon is beginning. And my crosscourt backhand is improving.
This is me a few years ago. I won’t tell you when. I didn’t have wrinkles, nor five teeth now awaiting implants. The headband helps keep my glasses and my head screwed on. this is indoor tennis at its finest — The Old Chatham Tennis Club.
‘
Traffic is bad in mid-state New York. I had to wait this morning while the geese and their new babies crossed to more fertile feeding grounds.
Mr. Bezos spent a reputed $50 million on his Venice, Italy wedding. It was his and her second marriage.
A wise old man once quipped that “A second marriage is a triumph of hope over experience.“
Susan and I are now in the 50th year of our first marriage. Her present complaint is that I “burble” too much and my burbling is not funny, nor interesting.
I await her verdict on today’s burbling blog.
See you soon — Harry Newton
