UNPLUG
If I consider myself any political party, I’d call myself a conservative. Not a Republican — a conservative. And somewhere along the way, we became a country afraid of one side or the other. I had a notion about why, and that notion made me unplug.
The media.
The news.
How can one story be reported three different ways? There’s only one story. Yet every station turns it into something else. Unplugging meant I stopped watching news. Not completely — that’s impossible — but I’d say I unplugged 90 percent. Fair enough.
Fox, CNN, Newsmax, all of them run on ratings. Ratings run on fear. Fear runs on hating the other side. And they all stretch the truth just enough to fit whatever narrative their audience wants. For a while, I liked Newsmax. They told the story I wanted to hear. Then I realized they were doing exactly what everyone else was doing — just aimed at me. That was the moment I stepped back and shut it all off.
I realized every station was chasing money and had forgotten what America actually needs: the truth. And they were using me to get paid.
So I unplugged.
To be fair, I still watch local news — a Fox station, actually. Local news can manipulate too, but I noticed they didn’t even try. They had one or two national stories, delivered straight. No spin. I learned we bombed Iran. Gas prices went up. A few soldiers died. That was it. That was all I needed. No outrage. No panic. No “pick a side.”
If I wanted more detail, I could ask AI. It doesn’t take sides. It points me to Reuters or AP. I haven’t gone there yet. Why? Because nothing that happens in Washington is ever unpredictable. That was the biggest shock from unplugging: nothing changes. Not the politicians. Not the behavior. Not the game.
I found I could keep up with almost anyone using last year’s knowledge. Washington repeats itself. The players barely change. They stay until they’re too old to continue — and even then, they somehow keep playing.
So what did I do instead of watching the news?
I lived.
I golfed more. Golf has always been the one place I refuse to talk about anything except golf. One day I forgot a scorecard. It annoyed me. After the round, I decided I needed an app — something always in my pocket. I asked AI for help. Over the next year, we built a damn good scorecard app. Maybe the best one out there. I didn’t learn to code — I learned how to spot AI’s mistakes. That’s why it didn’t take five years.
I woke up to a project I cared about instead of waking up to anger. My wife was thrilled I finally had a hobby.
I stopped having political conversations. Best decision I made. I know what I believe. You should know what you believe. That’s enough. The media wants us to take sides. I refuse. I used to. Not anymore. If you can watch the news and stay sane, good for you. I couldn’t.
One thing I learned: the news today is the same as it was five years ago. Shutdowns, blame, drama, repeat. And we reelect the same people who break the system. Why? Because the other side is “bad.” I don’t care if the government shuts down. They don’t care if I care. But enough people do, so the game continues.
Watching from the outside makes it obvious: you don’t get a say. You don’t get to play. They put on the show, same as always, and we watch.
Meanwhile, I went on vacations. Beaches. Golf courses. Sailing. Parasailing.
My son met his wife, married her, and now I’m getting my sixth grandchild.
My kids and grandkids are living full lives. I have an incredible family. That’s enough.
Maybe you can watch the news and filter out the garbage. I couldn’t. It hurt my life.
I unplugged.
I’m better for it.
This is what I spent a year building.
I lost a friend this week
I lost a friend this week I hadn't seen in almost 50 years.
Maybe a tear formed in one eye. Not important. I was sad, and you don't have to cry to be sad.
I had been looking for him all this time. From time to time, I used every tool available to try to find him. He had simply vanished. I knew where he was, but I didn't know how to contact him.
He didn't want to contact me. Or anyone.
Maybe that was the sad part.
He needed to change his life because of who he was, and to do that, he had to disappear from his old one. His significant other posted an obituary, and that's how I finally found him.
He left almost no footprint of his life. Not one single thing. That in itself was pretty impressive. Google yourself and see.
The comments left on his obituary were all filled with love for the man.
He ran as fast as he could from the life he had and found one that accepted him into the fold.
When his mother was dying, she asked me to look out for him. I tried, in the only way I could, by always remembering our friendship. Because that's all I had.
Turns out he found people he could look after, and people who looked after him.
Who could ask for more?
Till we meet again, my friend.
Voyager I: A Gas Station 39 Million Years Away
Voyager I was launched in 1977.
It's mission - Explore Jupiter and Saturn, then leave the solar system carrying humanity's message into interstellar space.
It is traveling through space at about 38,000 mph and is now more than 15 billion miles from Earth.
That's an almost unimaginable distance. And yet, if Voyager I were traveling toward our nearest neighboring star system, Alpha Centauri, its journey would still take 75,000 years.
Eventually, Voyager will lose the electrical power necessary to operate its instruments and communicate with Earth. Then it will continue on, silent and alone.
And it may continue for billions of years.
Inside Voyager I is the Golden Record—a message from humanity containing sounds, images, music and greetings from Earth. Long after the spacecraft stops talking to us, that record will still be traveling with it.
A light-year is about 5.88 trillion miles. That's how far light travels in one year.
Light circles the Earth about 7.5 times per second.
Alpha Centauri is about 4.37 light-years away.
That's roughly 25.7 trillion miles.
How far is that?
Get in a car and drive 75 mph, nonstop. Never sleep. Never stop for food. Never hit a red light.
Your first possible gas station is about 39 million years away.
Goals
I don't know if everyone who golfs has goals. A lot do. A lot don't.
I do. In fact, I have more than one.
I used to be able to go three or four rounds without a 3-putt. Now, not 3-putting today is a more realistic goal. I don't do it often enough.
How many fairways I hit and how many greens I hit in regulation are two more. The goal—as many as possible. That's always doable.
I also pick a score I want to shoot. I'm fair about it, but I usually pick low for the challenge.
80-ish.
My best score this year is a 74. I did that in the great state of Texas.
My last goal is to shoot my age.
I'll be turning 70 in a few months.
I'm healthy. I still hit the ball well and can keep up with most kids. I still have a good mind and can hold my concentration well enough to do this.
I believe that as long as I keep it as a goal, it's possible.
Which brings me to something that's probably more of a dream than a goal.
My son beats me sometimes. He's a good golfer and fun to play with.
Can he shoot my age for me?
I'm thinking—sorry, boy. No.
That leaves my grandson. He's only now entering his second year of playing golf and just made his high school varsity team.
That boy has game.
If he shoots my age for me, it will bring me more joy than if I shoot it myself.
And I don't think he's very far from doing it.
Yet...
I still wanna shoot it.