The first HTBM

This is the first installment of HARD TO BELIEVE MONDAY.

I read about Ringo in the Times today. He’s about to turn 85 and he is still cooI. I send a comment to the paper  … Hardly anybody is cool now. Ringo has always been cool. They printed it. 

There’s this guy on Youtube and all over the place, places you don’t even know about, places you’re never heard of or been to. But on The U - he’s got 152K subscribers, roughly two and half times the population of my hometown. 

He’s not famous for his kindness, bravery, pop culture knowledge, not even his treachery or some kind of uncanny faculty or fetish. He is known for and famous for his hairiness. He is known for his pec, armpit, back, chest, head, arms, shoulder and hand hair. They go ga ga at the go go for him. And at the barber shop, too. 

He hawks his free memberships that gives us full and ample access to his live streams on which he runs on about his free memberships, his next fire live event and where to find him all thru the viral cosmos. He shouts out to peeps who enjoy watching him preen and yak on about his please-let-me-at-it hairiness.

The madness. The horror. And what's Hard to Believe in 2K25 - it doesn’t stop there. O no. 

I went on Joni’s site - as I am wont to do when my girl ofttimes pierces my hippocampus.  And what do I find?  I don’t encounter a wonderful Satchmo world.  I don’t see fields of Little Green, or clouds from Both Sides You Know When ...  or even disco sparkle dark. I see Cases of You wine glasses, insulated mugs WITH HANDLES. I  see Court and Spark throw pillows for forty clams a pop. Berets and coasters and t-s. I kid you not. 

It's Hard to Believe Monday.  More next week.