A guy I know likes to say, “Show me your three best friends and I’ll tell you who you are.”

Without rejecting his wisdom, I’ve sometimes countered with, “If you really want to know who someone is, look at their bookshelves.” To my way of thinking, our books are the most accurate window to our minds, hearts, and souls.

Rummaging aimlessly around the corners of the internet last night, a year into a stay-at-home pandemic, it occurred to me I might be able to split the difference between my friend and me. I wondered what would happen if I had…


If, in the future, I think about the weekend that just passed (and I hope I do), I will remember it was dominated by two women. One American. One Brit. Yes, it was only weeks since Kamala Harris became the first woman ever to exercise the Vice President’s tiebreaking power and days since the Duchess of Sussex publicly aired the royal laundry. But not her. Or her.

To my way of thinking this Saturday and Sunday were all about Dylan Farrow and Helen Storey. We’re still in the afterglow of International Women’s Day; midway through Women’s History Month, but this…


Back when I was striving, it wasn’t unusual for conversations within my circle to reference F-buddies — a term (cleaned up a bit here) to describe two people whose relationship did not extend beyond the bedroom. In today’s parlance, they may call it “friends with benefits”, “holemates”, or simply “hooking up”. In my day, partners in pursuit of convenience and hedonism were plain old “F”-buddies. There was a fair amount of logic and a smattering of honor implied in such an arrangement.

I have no F-buddies, but I do have a handful of FB-buddies. That’s what I call the decidedly…


“We’ve never been so divided” … That simple statement may be the only truism that will easily survive a trip across America’s political aisle these days. But I call Bull.

More specifically, I point you toward Richard “Bull” Smith — an ancestor, many generations removed, of former NBA star Kiki Vandeweghe. Their shared family history may shed some light on why that truism isn’t true at all. In fact, our collective willingness to believe that assessment of our great divide may be more of a problem than the urgent warning it purports to sound.

Consider this: Ernest Maurice Vandeweghe III…


Cards on the table. I am a proud liberal. Lower case “l”. I have not and will never register with either major political party. Still, I tend to dislike Democratic politicians less than I dislike their Republican colleagues and I generally regard a third-party vote as impractical. So, with a few exceptions, I have voted blue in major races.

I am not un-American. I am not unpatriotic. I am not stupid. I am not a godless pedophile. I am a mile to the left of Joe Biden, but I am certainly not a radical. …


The first job of my post college career was in an NCAA Division 1 Athletic Department. It was 1982. Among my dozens of colleagues — administrators, coaches, support staff, medical professionals, facilities staff, student help — there were two African Americans. One was a men’s basketball assistant coach. The other an equipment manager. Those ratios didn’t shock me. They more or less mirrored the experience I’d had in school.

When I left that job three years later, the number of POC had shrunk to one.

Very early in my next career stop — at a major retailer — an older…


While some on either side of the aisle hope to convince us otherwise, the truth of the matter is we have been attacked by an apolitical force — a virus. Its impact has been devastating to a degree that largely correlates to our pre-virus circumstances. The poor, the elderly, the marginalized, and the sick have borne the greatest pain.

Like it or not, this apolitical force will only be repelled by other apolitical forces. Science. Time. Sound economic policy. Public health protocols. Prayer, if you will. …


Reflections in the Time of COVID-19

In the summer of 1967, I bought corned beef sandwiches at The Pastrami King on Queens Boulevard — in the shadow of the West Side Tennis Club, a few miles from the Elks Club at which my pregnant mother abandoned a Washington’s Birthday dance to bring me into the world. The man who made my sandwiches had a number tattooed on his forearm. He was not in a grainy, black and white video or an encyclopedia. He stood a few feet from me, a nondescript fellow about the same age as my parents.

I…


Despite our inclination to look backward to the likes of Ernie Pyle, Edward R. Murrow, Walter Cronkite, and Woodward & Bernstein, I’m fairly certain we are in the golden age of journalism right now.

I know mine is not a popular opinion, but I remain convinced. Reporters and editorial staffs at the New York Times, Vox, Slate, The Wall Street Journal, Rolling Stone, Washington Post, Mother Jones, The Atlantic, MSNBC, Vice, and so many others are practicing their craft with a proficiency and a productivity never seen before.

And they’re doing it while being attacked on two flanks: by the…


I heard from a friend the other day. More accurately, I read a text he had sent before dawn.

If I were to count off the people in this world I value most, I wouldn’t get past my left hand before calling his name. I love him. I like him. I admire him. He’s “an important man”; sitting in the C-Suite of one of the world’s best-known and most well-respected companies. He has an image to protect, so the person I know — and the guy the other people on my fingers know — is rarely glimpsed in public. …

David Goldberg

Longtime marketing executive … ghost author of two novels and two nonfiction books … first “name-on-the-cover book” expected in 2021

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