I lived in the Big Apple
Late in life I learned to drive
But I quickly gained the expertise
I needed to survive
I eschewed the use of blinkers
Changed lanes with verve and zest
And the language I presented
I’d call “colorful” at best
But when I moved to Hollywood
(Tarzana isn’t far)
I knew that I’d be spending
Half a lifetime in my car
So, with right hand on the Thomas Guild
(Back then there were no aps)
I vowed to keep composure
And I’ve never had a lapse
Convinced that this was positive
It’s always been my aim
That political contention
Should be handled just the same
I’d martial all my evidence
Presenting it in stacks
And never think of stooping to
Ad Hominem attacks
And if my interlocutor
Then found himself incensed
I’d listen quite politely
To his arguments against
If clearly unpersuadable
I’d let him waste his breath
Nodding intermittently
And “yessing” him to death
But lately I’ve decided that
This strategy is bad
It’s clear, in light of recent
Conversations that I’ve had
Decline to take up battle
And it’s taken as concession
Soon they start demanding
That you make a good confession
So, let’s have that conversation
Though it may not be as pretty
I’ll be using all the tactics
That I learned in New York City
