Berlin didn’t feel like the capital of Europe’s economic powerhouse. It felt… off.
A smell. A signal. A system drifting.
I’ve seen this before—inside IBM, inside global institutions.
When systems start serving themselves, decline doesn’t arrive with a bang.
It arrives quietly… until it doesn’t.
👉 From Eurotopia to Berlin: When Systems Outgrow the People They Serve
https://t.co/eHYpFDLUQ3
Just when I thought I had retired as a CIA (Computer Industry Analyst), IBM roped me back into the saddle.A WSJ story about Big Blue's biggest one-day stock plunge took me back to forecasts I made in 1996, 2000 and 2012. The technology changed. The vocabulary changed. The underlying challenge did not.Some ideas take 30 years to catch up with reality—especially if you're a Big Blue giant with a matching bureaucracy.
https://t.co/4IPAjx5fWc
@Bob_Point_Music SINATRA DROPPED IN FOR A MORNING COFFEE AT BLACKJACK RANCH
This morning I woke up with New York, New York in my head.
Odd, since I was overlooking the Danube, not Manhattan.
So I sat down at my out-of-tune upright piano and captured the melody as it first arrived.
Not a performance. Just a moment.
Life goes on.
The Danube flows.
Sinatra catches the next flight to his heavenly home. ☕🎹🌊
https://t.co/JfoofIXLw0
@Bob_Point_Music
SINATRA DROPPED IN FOR A MORNING COFFEE AT BLACKJACK RANCH
This morning I woke up with New York, New York in my head.
Odd, since I was overlooking the Danube, not Manhattan.
So I sat down at my out-of-tune upright piano and captured the melody as it first arrived.
Not a performance. Just a moment.
Life goes on.
The Danube flows.
Sinatra catches the next flight to his heavenly home. ☕🎹🌊
https://t.co/JfoofIXLw0
SINATRA DROPPED IN FOR A MORNING COFFEE AT BLACKJACK RANCH
This morning I woke up with New York, New York in my head.
Odd, since I was overlooking the Danube, not Manhattan.
So I sat down at my out-of-tune upright piano and captured the melody as it first arrived.
Not a performance. Just a moment.
Life goes on.
The Danube flows.
Sinatra catches the next flight to his heavenly home. ☕���🌊
https://t.co/JfoofIXLw0
MAN VS. CIRCUIT BOARDS: A European Comedy ☕🛰️
When my coffee machine died at our country home, I bought a new one. Plugged it in. Deathly silence.
Furious, I drove back to the store for a classic retail showdown. The clerk plugged it in. Bingo. It hummed perfectly.
Convinced I’d discovered a bizarre physical phenomenon unique to the Serbian power grid, I called my solar provider.
His solution? A single, overlooked toggle switch left in "hibernation mode" since December. The machine wasn't a dud; it was just being starved of wattage.
The full story of my days playing amateur electrician and dodging a retail fight:
https://t.co/4uAD03fk02
After El Choclo, La Cumparsita, and Hernando's Hideaway joined the party, I thought the tango faucet had finally run dry.
Then a fourth visitor arrived.
🎻 Tango Jealousy.
For days it circled in my head demanding attention until I finally sat down and played it.
Perhaps it had a point:
"I've been around since 1925. I'm one of the most famous tangos ever written. And nobody invited me to the party."
Resistance was futile. 💃🎹😄
https://t.co/4n22my04sE
Three melodies. One "late-night room." Five days of discovery. 🎹✨
My new collection, #TangoNight, traces the moment a single "ceiling melody" arrived and split into three cinematic worlds: El Choclo, La Cumparsita, and Hernando’s Hideaway.
Step into the shadows:
https://t.co/XTZO0NqhjZ
#TruthInMediaMusic #NewMusic
For days, three tangos circled together in my head as if they belonged to the same late-night room:
🎵 El Choclo
🎵 La Cumparsita
🎵 Hernando's Hideaway
Today, the third finally stepped out of the shadows.
Unlike the first two, Hernando's Hideaway is less about longing than intrigue. The trumpet became the storyteller, while the piano offered staccato whispers from the wings.
More Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca than a ballroom tango spectacle.
Some tangoes break hearts.
Some tangoes smile knowingly from the shadows. 🎺🌙😏
https://t.co/munp5dN7uE
EL CHOCLO TANGO
For days, this tango played in my head even though I had never consciously played it before.
Then one morning, after a few exploratory passes at the piano, the melody suddenly began guiding the hands instead of the other way around.
My wife listened, embraced me from behind, and said:
“You can raise the dead with this music.”
https://t.co/CxtFItvpEY
CHERRY PINK AND APPLE WHITE
Another melody fell from the ceiling… this time a cha-cha.
I didn’t recognize it — but Pivot did.
She started dancing, then said she remembered her mother dancing to it when she was a little girl.
Turns out it was Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White.
Not a performance — a memory.
Some melodies are not remembered.
They are inherited. 💃🎹
https://t.co/8b6O7oQe1v
✍️ PARAKEET 28 (Continued)
And suddenly, it all made sense—historically.
The French corvette Naturaliste, part of the Baudin expedition, reached the Western Australian coast in 1801. The French were among the first Europeans to hear—and name—this bird.
So when they heard its call, they called it vingt-huit.
When the English arrived, they simply translated the name into “twenty-eight”…
…which has absolutely no resemblance to what the bird actually says.
And that’s what you get when a British left brain tries to emulate the French right brain.
✍️ PARAKEET 28
What do you get when a British left brain tries to emulate the French right brain?
You get a parakeet called “28.”
Hm?
When I first arrived at my Western Australia property, I kept hearing a wonderful, distinctive call from a colorful bird—the Australian Ringneck parakeet. The locals called it “twenty-eight.”
For years, I listened for the sound “twenty-eight” in its call… and could never make it out.
Then one day, a well-educated neighbor solved the mystery.
“It’s 28 in French,” he said. Vingt-huit—phonetically something like van-weet.
Bingo.
Finally, my ears caught up with my mouth.
And suddenly, it all made sense—historically.
The French corvette Naturaliste, part of the Baudin expedition, reached the Western Australian coast in 1801. The French were among the first Europeans to hear—and name—this bird.
So when they heard its call, they called it vingt-huit.
When the English arrived, they simply translated the name into “twenty-eight”…
(continued)
A British king helping America celebrate its independence from a British king.
Only in America.
Pomp over problems.
Glitz over gas prices.
The Romans called it panem et circenses.
Some things don’t change.
They just change costumes.
https://t.co/6ByxUdf7EC
TRUMP: No widened eyes.
No flinch.
No visible punctuation.
Like Mount Rushmore in evening wear.
Just a steady gaze — as if the message were not news, but a comma.
A small piece of paper was handed to Trump at last night’s White House dinner.
What followed lasted less than 3 seconds.
But it told a much bigger story. 🧵👇