I went out west to Idaho and Washington to do my show in Boise and Spokane and

was surprised by how vibrant and bustling and handsome both of these cities are.

I walked out on stage and sang Van Morrison's these are the days of the endless summer

these are the days the time is now and they seem to like it okay so I hummed a note and they sang America the Beautiful with me.

And then we did the Battle Hym of the Republic for the Republicans in the crowd and they sang it full out four parts and then for

contrast John Jacob Jinkleheimer Schmidt and we were on our way.

It's an age of dread, the news, perpetually discouraging TV

and media, merchandising ugliness and either you join the Greek chorus of gloom or you

go with the American choir of cheerful resolve and I choose cheerfulness. I'm capable of dismay. I'm

dismay by the working from home syndrome that is leaving our big office buildings half empty.

I call up an office to get answers to difficult questions and I hear a rock and roll band singing and a guy says yeah and a

dog barks and a woman yells put on the. This is what Allied Federated has come to. I'd

prefer to get a woman named Mildred who is an authority on health coverage and who is looking at me across her desk, but, never mind me, I'm an old man.

There's plenty to be gloomy about.

Friends of mine are nearing the end,

going through the seven stages of dying,

dismay, distress, dread of cheerful visitors, demanding more drugs, and delivery into divine paradise,

discovering their all Catholics, devoting oneself to daily rosary recitation, all the more reason to love

jokes. Half of all people are below average, and we are the ones who really appreciate a joke.

Of course, men and women are different.

Men pass gas more than women because women talk more so the pressure never builds up.

Except for one of our ex-presidents, such a talker, he should pay himself hush money.

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