Jane Genova: Speechwriter - Ghostwriter

Ruth Madoff - Down to her last $2.5 million

She caved.  That 98-pound-something of emotional steel [and allegedly steal] Ruth Madoff has agreed to just keep $2.5 million of her assets.  THE WALL STREET JOURNAL reports, she settled with the U.S. Attorney's Office "to give up her potential claim to more than $80 million worth of assets."

But this is unlikely to make it possible for her husband Bernard to ever leave prison. He's 71 now and lawyers are betting that Monday he will be sentenced to 25 to 35 years in prison.

My hunch is that he won't live to celebrate his first anniversary behind bars.  Everyone seems to know someone who was swindled by Uncle Bernie.  That, plus his unnerving smirk, makes him a classic target in the slammer.  We know there's no way to protect someone who has an emotional bullseye on him or her.

Tipping Point: Stolen '03 Ford Escort Black Coupe, CT 693SHU

If you come across a 2003 Ford Escort Black Coupe with Connecticut license plate number 693SHU, please don't let me know.  Since it was stolen from my assigned parking place during the early hours of June 25th, I have experienced "salvation." 

Yes, I am now completely freed of my soul-killing compulsion to please others, particularly with an energetic gush signaling my enthusiasm for them, their ideas, their success, their dreams.  Since 12-step programs teach the perils of people-pleasing and I have been a member of sundry varieties of them for more than three decades, I should have gotten that wisdom down cold.  I didn't.  But now I do.

The tipping point for saving what was left of my soul might be from the freedom that comes with the loss of my last material possession.  During the crushing hit to the communications industry post-9/11, I had lost my business and nest egg.  I sold my house to pay off debt. 

So, I assumed I had been washed clean of my former craving for more.  At one time I had owned a McMansion of sorts in Fairfield County and a cottage at the Jersey shore.  It was not enough.  I was earning in the top five percent of ghostwriters.  It was not enough.  I had three dogs and seven cats.  That was hardly enough.

I never realized that it was the car, with all its 80,000-something miles on it, that was holding me hostage to sucking up, in order to "get ahead."  Perhaps dancing in my unconscious were dreams of a new car, a better car, a car with a driver in a uniform, including the cap. 

But it had to be the car.  After I schlepped on two buses to fill out the police report and binged on trail mix with chocolate and cashews I could care less about anything material.  I made up my mind to earn enough to support me and the three remaining cats, pay off the remaining debt, and have dental implants.  The rest of my time would go into writing.  For me.  For the world.  For other damned souls who can't stop wanting more. 

Of course, people who stop caring about stupid things like prestige, money, and four wheels are the most scary folks on planet earth.  Since yesterday morning, I have managed to collect on all accounts receivable, get three new assignments at the fee I determined was fair [read Geoff Colvin on that in "The Upside of the Downturn"], and lo and behold did not feign excess interest in anyone or anything.

The epiphany: I have everything I need.  Less might not be more.  Nothing might be everything. 

Wounded Wins Over White Bread: Dave's Ratings Beat Conan's

There's something about woundedness, at least when the wound-bearer is male.  Think Jack Malone from "Without a Trace" and the gang at the firehouse in "Rescue Me."

So, it's no surprise that complex, obviously playing hurt Dave Letterman won in the ratings game over wholesome white bread Conan O'Brien. According to Andy Fixmer of BLOOMBERG, Letterman averaged 3.46 million viewers a night for the week ending June 19th versus O'Brien's 3.32 million.  Of course, the Palin controversy kicked in some extra eyeballs. 

But my hunch is that America is going to stick with men who seem to be a mess.  After all, as John D. Gartner documented in "The Hypomanic Edge," this nation was started by misfits who couldn't or woundn't fit in elsewhere.  We are hardwired to respect, well, frayed wiring.

Old-Line Networks Still Powerful - Sorry, Digitals, Meritocracy Still Fantasy

On the digital front lines we declared The Establishment dead.  Our creativity, web intuition, and persistence would open doors closed to so many of us.  Mostly, that's a fantasy.

In its current edition, THE ECONOMIST puts it out there:

"Old-style networks, however, are usually stronger than online ones. and the trust between their members facilitates transactions of all sorts."

Will there ever be a real meritocracy?  Was there ever?  Human beings are tribal.  They seem hardwired to stick with their own kind.

Talent & Drive: Hardwiring for Early Death?

Is there only a correlation, not a cause-effect relationship?  Talent and drive seem to be the hardwiring for a too-early death for those who achieve recognition.  But maybe that's wrong.  Maybe the recognition is what sucks the life out of them.

At 62 Farrah Fawcett died prematurely.  At 50, Michael Jackson's death from cardiac arrest seems to be a crime of the heart.  Was it his heart that turned on him or the needs of his fans?

Dead at 50: Michael Jackson dies of cardiac arrest, reports TMZ

The life of fame is hard on those it thrusts into the limelight.  Today Farrah Fawcett died at 62.  TMZ reports that Michael Jackson is dead at 50 years of age.  The alleged cause was cardiac arrest.  He leaves behind three small children.  Let's hope he also leaves behind his torment.

Farrah Fawcett - We Baby Boomers Owe You Plenty

Farrah Fawcett was one of us: A baby boomer.  She served the generation well.  Today she died at the young age of 62.  After all, I'm older than that.

Her role in "Charlie's Angels" was that of a strong, independent female who did not do in other females.  But that character was also beautiful.  In fact, we all somehow at some time sported the Farrah hairdo.  I even dyed my hair blonde.  She gave us females, caught between the traditional 1950s and the feminism movement, permission to look great.

Rest in peace, Charlie's prettiest angel.

Warren Buffett - Seemingly So Over & So Not Liking That At All

Combinations and permutations of Dr. Gloom/Doom and Black-Swan sage Nassim Nicholas Taleb have replaced the Oracle of Omaha.  Yeah, the era of Warren Buffett, at least in the financial media and maybe even in the equities market, seems to be over.  And Buffett doesn't seem to like that at all.

Instead of going quietly into the night of overville, Buffett is popping up just about everywhere in the media, from CNBC to NEW YORK Magazine.  In the latter, he's even resorted to talking a bit off-color.  In opining on the economy, he notes, "You can't produce a baby in one month by getting nine women pregnant."

Will Buffett finally surrender to the reality that he's yesterday's hero?  Perhaps there should be a 12-step program for media icons who won't say goodbye and ride with dignity out of Dodge.

Kent Whitaker - You mean there's nothing to forgive?

We wounded, or supposed wounded, are free.  All that  kvetching about the wrongs done us [king-lear style: we are more sinned against than sinning] can simply stop.  Instead we can reframe what was or what we perceived what was as what was meant to happen.  That's at least the gospel of radical forgiveness.  According to one of its disciples Colin Tipping, "what happened was actually perfect from a spiritual point of view."

But this interpretation of the events of my life didn't sit well with me, a feud-oriented Italian and Class-A resentment holder.  In fact, as I told my 12-stop group in North Haven, Connecticut, I was pretty much still steamed at those from 30 years ago who pointed out that I might have a problem with alcohol.  "You're not perfect, either."  That's what I thought then. 

That's what I thought until I read, actually meditated over, "Murder By Family."  It's written by the father of the young man who murdered the man's wife and son.  That young man was and is his son Bart who is now on Death Row in Texas.  The man is Kent Whitaker.  He embraces this family tragedy as a spiritual learning experience that was meant to be.  He uses it to help Bart as well as others in pain.

Who would I be without my many wounds, I used to reflect on?  From the age of 11, when I brushed up against my first depressive episode, I have kept those wounds housed within my consciousness and unconsciousness [yeah I did my time on the couch with Dr. David Harder, now a professor at Tufts], protected from the light.  On bad days as well as better days I could crawl in there and have a ball feeling bad - for myself, for the human condition, for the fictional Jack Malone on "Without a Trace" whose mother committed suicide.  I assumed it couldn't get better than that.

Whitaker's acceptance of all pain and joy as spiritual lessons gave me a peek into a game-changing way to not only view my life but celebrate every lousy person, place and thing.  They were teachers who got my attention.  They were the ones who motivated me to do a 180 in 2003.  That embrace of what was and what is released my talent in writing, as well as in operating a business and ability to love Download Geezerguts.  

What do we do without stocking so much inventory of hate, regret, and rage?  Join the human race, I guess.  Hopefully, my life now is all about what it means to be human, no more, no less. There's nothing to forgive.  And, by the way, nothing to forget. 

Class of '09 - Not Tough to Shun Money When There Is None

The Class of '09, despite massive student loan debt, seems to be shunning money.  NEW YORK Magazine reports on how even the president of Harvard Drew Faust notices the difference.  The current generation seems focused more on helping others than making a bundle of money.

However, will that change when money is easier to make?  If there is another boom will the Millennials sit it out?  That's tough to predict.  This could represent a fundamental paradigm shift in values or it could simply be accommodating one's career to limited earning opportunities.