Nobody asked me but....(Barbecue edition).

Nobody asked me but…

Nobody asked me but is my occasional tribute to the great New York sportswriter Jimmy Cannon, who would toss one of these out to the readers of the New York Journal-American when he had nothing to write about. 

A perfect example of Cannon's “Nobody asked me,” is this observation: “England produces the best fat actors.” And, “The trouble with the Big Leagues is there aren’t enough Big Leaguers.” (That last one goes for everything—including our current imposter President.”)

In any event, here are today’s Nobodies…

…Not too long ago, I kept hearing declarations how 3D printing was going to change marketing forever. I didn’t believe it then. I don’t believe it now.

…Same goes for drones that deliver packages.

…Ditto rapid-prototyping.

…I remember ditto machines.

…I also don’t believe people who say they are product designers. I can’t think of that many new products I want or need.

…Though it would be nice to have iPhone headphones that don’t get tangled.

…And an umbrella that doesn’t blow out in the wind.

…Very little is better than a sweet potato cooked over charcoal and eaten piping hot.

…I am not by nature an optimist, but Donald Trump will be out, I believe, by Halloween.

…I know it’s old fashioned and sexist and horrible, but I don’t trust 71-year-old men who don’t have grey hair.

…To paraphrase Shakespeare’s King Henry IV (part II) how ill blond hairs become a fool and jester!

…Speaking of Shakespeare, you really ought to see the Public’s production of “Julius Caesar” in Central Park.

…If you can’t see that, Joseph Mankiewicz’s 1953 movie with Brando as Marc Anthony, James Mason as Brutus, and John Gielgud as Cassius is a good substitute.

…Just because we’re Linked In connections doesn’t mean we’re friends.

…For that matter, just because we’re friends doesn’t mean we’re friends.

…Somehow I believe Donald Trump will end up with either a massive infarction, or as a late-night host on a radical right TV station, or living in exile in Omsk.

…It’s easier to start lists like this than it is to end them.

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