Well, I’ve finally been persuaded to read “Young Man in a Hurry,” Gavin Newsom’s memoir. Every presidential wannabe publishes a book at some point before an election, and Newsom is no exception. Usually these books quickly disappear into $1 bins at the bookstore. But Newsom’s seems to be the exception: it’s at the top of the best-seller lists. I’ll have more to say when I finish reading it.

We’d sit in the bleachers (25 cents), me and my friends, or in the grandstands, if we had 75 cents, which we usually didn’t. It was at the old Yankee Stadium, which was only three blocks from where we lived. This was in the mid-1950s, when the N.Y. Yankees made it easy, almost mandatory to be a fan.

The short answer is no. As George Harrison sang, “If you try to sit, I'll tax your seat. If you get too cold, I'll tax the heat. If you take a walk, I'll tax your feet.” Or, as Pink Floyd put it, “All that you touch, and all that you see, all that you taste, all you feel, and all that you loved, and all that you hate, all you distrust, all you save, and all that you give, and all that you deal, and all that you buy…” We’ll tax it all, and more.

I was chatting the other day with a friend. We’re not “friends” in the sense of hanging out together, but I’ve patronized his business for decades, I know his family, and I like and respect him quite a bit. So I call him my friend.

Today’s post is dedicated to the memory of the Rev. Jesse Jackson, a great American. I didn’t always agree with him. But he had enormous influence on American politics and was a grand inspiration for many of us. I voted for him for President in the 1984 California Democratic primary, and actually heard him speak when he visited San Francisco State University to give an electrifying speech. Thank you, Rev. Jackson. Rest in peace.