A recent Wall Street Journal article reported on studies that found automation is making us dumber.  Doctors who use templates to diagnose a patient’s illness lose their intuitive diagnostic skills (e.g., the Dallas Ebola patient).  Pilots who train only on computer programing and seldom fly manually lose the ability to respond to emergencies (e.g., the Air France crash over the Atlantic Ocean).

(To the tune of, “Imagination,” by Jimmy Van Heusen & Johnny Burke (1940))

This automation is dumbing.
That brain in your head it’s numbing.
You, twiddle your thumbs hum-drumming
while machines think for you.

This automation is chilling.
Our common sense, it is killing.
Solving problems, once thrilling
How to do? Not a clue.

Due to automation pilots lose
those skills they used to hone.
Now they’re terrified to fly a plane on their own.

This automation is crazy.
Conveniences make you lazy.
All that bother to cogitate, what a fuss.
Meanwhile, they automate, and create
zombies of us.

Lyric © 2014 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved.


I wish to all of my readers a meaningful Thanksgiving.


“I’m self made,” a man
I knew once would say.
“Did it all by myself,
every step of the way.”

But no one’s an Island.
How could someone be?
And even an Island
depends on the sea.

As young Bobby Thomson
whose swing had no hitch,
needed Ralph Branca
to throw him the pitch.*

We all need each other,
be friend or be foe.
For help or to challenge,
the wise sages know.

To all whom have touched me,
great thanks I do give.
You make my Thanksgiving
a blessing to live.

© 2009 by Robert S. Steinberg Esquire
All rights reserved

*Refers to New York Giant outfielder Bobby Thompson’s walk-off home run off Brooklyn Dodger pitcher Ralph Branca on October 3, 1951  that won the pennant for the Giants.  The historic slam is called, “The Shot Heard Round the World,”


What most concerned incoming freshman House representatives was getting a decent office location, preferably with large rooms and an impressive view.  Thus, lucky charms flashed at the Rayburn House Office Building where the lottery for the order of office selections was held the other day.

(To the tune of, “I’ve Got a Lot of Living to Do,” by Charles Strouse & Lee Adams, from the Broadway musical stage show, “Bye Bye Birdie (1960))

Don’t ask me about immigration.
Most importantly, what I have to do.
On this day, to hell with the nation.
I’ve got to get an office with a view.

If they jam me into a closet.
Lobbyists won’t think, I’m somebody who
keeps his word after their deposit.
I’ve get to get an office with a view.

With a window and view
who won’t assume
I’m a big wheel?
A crucial rep for making a deal.

I must plan for my reelection.
Some prestige, could help me there too.
So I’ll need an envied selection.
What’s climate change? I haven’t yet a clue.
But I know I’ll need an office with a view.
Yes, I’ve got to get an office with a view.

Lyric © 2014 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved.


Weekdays I usually walk in the park before work.  I don’t wear headphones or carry a smart phone as many there do.  Instead I tune into the music of the morning – the symphony of birds singing playful songs, the sun throwing shadows ahead of me, an honest rustle of trees moved by the start of another breezy autumn day.  Part of life’s beauty missed by those engrossed with technology.

(To the tune of, “Everybody’s out of Town,” by Burt Bacharach & Hal David, recorded by B. J. Thomas)

Who’ll hear the melodies?
Birds chirping love songs in the trees?
You’ve got your Bluetooth gadget in your ear.
Seems, everybody’s in the cloud.
No one’s, living in the Here-and-Now.

Who’ll watch the show at night?
Stars making magic with their light?
Try wishing on a star with your I-Pad.
Seems, everybody’s in the cloud.
No one’s, living in the Here-and-Now

Everyone these days, is so distracted
off in their own zone.
People bunk into me with their heads down.
Stuck in their I-Phone.

Somewhere a,
kid’s crying for his mom.
Logged onto Facebook, she won’t come.
Life slipping by, completely unnoticed.
Seems, everybody’s in the cloud.
No one’s, living in the Here-and-Now.

Who’ll see the magic? Who’ll hear the love songs?
When, everybody’s in the cloud.
No one’s, living in the Here-and-Now.

Lyric © 2014 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved


A Political cartoon in the Miami Herald (Sunday, 11/9/14) depicts the GOP agenda as “Hate Obama.” Actually, there is a second prong to its agenda: repay the special interests that donate cash to GOP campaigns.

(To the tune of “We’re in the Money,” by Harry Warren & Al Dubin, from the film “Gold Diggers of 1933”) )

We hate Obama.
We hate Obama.
To hell with governing
No help from us he’ll get.

We know our role now.
Who’s in control now?
Think special interests?
Brother, that’s a sure bet.

When money is the story.
There’s a payback soon due.
Think things are honky-dory?
Use your common sense.
That’s influence.

We hate Obama.
We hate Obama.
Here in the Capitol
It’s capital we love.

Lyric © 2014 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved


Record sums of money were spent on the just concluded mid-term elections. In Florida Governor Rick Scott was trailing Charlie Christ until he undertook a last-minute  spending spree to steal a victory.  In total Florida Republicans raised $209 million and half of that was used to reelect Scott.  The results illustrate how spending more than your opponent gets you a seat in the House, or Senate or Governor’s mansion. If money dictates the result, then are not our votes superfluous?  Why not do away with voting altogether.  Instead, allow political parties to hold competing telethons.  Whichever party raised the most cash, would then appoint  the President.  Seats in the House and Senate would be divided proportionately, based on the total funds raised by each party.  Because of Citizens United the wealthy and corporate interests  would continue to influence the result, as they did in this election. But, at least we’d no longer be infuriated by the twisted-map Gerrymandering that is today employed to retain congressional seats. And we wouldn’t have to stand in line.  Just click online to indicate preferences by making your political donation.

(To the tune of, “You Say you Want a Revolution,” by Paul McCartney and John Lennon).

Another telethon election.
Who won?
You can just tally up the cash.
Before you’ve made your proud selection.
They’ll know.
The one who’s built a bigger stash
For running those ads to denigrate their foes.
They’re stealing the country, while the people doze
Here in American, these days,
Here in America.

The highest court in our fine nation
Oh well,
Said corporations have a say.
They’ve let them make the fat donations.
And pray tell.
The dollar’s carrying the day.
And nobody says what they believe no more.
They’re asking for money knocking at my door.
Here in American, these days.
Here in America.

Experience the thrill of voting.
They say.
As they manipulate your mind.
Brainwashing you with their promoting.
All day.
The truth you’re never gonna find.
But with all of the negativity we’re sold
Inside of your head the message soon takes hold.
Here in America, these days
Here in America

America was made by people
Who compromised.
To help to build a better land.
Our congressmen see through a peephole.
There’s such
A narrow-mindedness at hand.
Just think of the influence a million buys.
You vote for crook who tells the fewest lies.
Here in America, these days.
Here in America/

Democracy is so in trouble.
Who cares?
You’re busy driving the new car.
But soon they’re gonna burst your bubble.
Blank stares.
Does anyone notice where we are?
If this is Democracy, then I’m a saint.
Pretending to be what we once were, and ain’t.
Here in America, these days.
We’ve lost America.
Here in America these days
Where is America?

Lyric © 2014 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved