Now, you could get upset over all the whoppers that public figures fling at you. You could proclaim that evil abounds across the fruited plain. 

Or, you could become philosophical. The way we did at one of the world’s greatest schools of philosophy — my father’s saloon: the Empire Hotel. I call it the University of Bulltweedie.

I am serious. You can spit, sputter, and rail about the lies. You can get angry about the fact that public figures seem to think that job one is to lie to you. Your president lies to you. Your former secretary of state does. So many politicians do. So many senior bureaucrats do. And, your TV news people also lie. 

The list is endless. The current attorney general of Massachusetts told whoppers about his time in Vietnam. The head of the Veterans Administration lied about serving in the Special Forces. The vice president has lied about any number of trivial things for years. Senator Elizabeth Warren lied about her Native American roots. Governors and other major figures have listed degrees they never earned

Recently, we discovered New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo arranged for all state worker emails to vanish. Purge them all after 90 days. And gee, he just happened to set that policy weeks before he created the Moreland Commission. That’s the outfit that would look into corruption in state government. Of course, it would want to look into emails. The very emails the governor flushed down the e-toilet.

Why did he do this? To improve efficiency. So sayeth his spokesperson. Now, that would never pass the Bulltest at the Empire Hotel. For two simple reasons: The state has computer capacity to store all employee emails for 30 years. And the purging of emails has to cause havoc in any operation. 

Back to the growing list of liars. You have to wonder if everybody lies to you. And, my suggestion comes straight from the Empire Hotel. Don’t wonder if everybody lies. Assume they all do.

One of the regulars was a guy we called Uncle Jack. He carried a bag of golf clubs in the trunk of his car. He told us how he attacked the long fairways at a famous course. And how he blasted out of the sand traps at another.

The problem was: Uncle Jack never played a round of golf in his life. We knew all golfers lie. Uncle Jack lied about being a lying golfer. Lying for him was par for the course. 

I said that was a problem. I lie. It was not a problem — because we knew he lied. About his job, his women, his travels etc. He lied about it all.

We also knew a guy named Conrad lied. If you said anything, Conrad had to top you. You climbed Mt. Everest? “Hey, I did it blindfolded,” he’d say. You won a hundred bucks in the lottery? “That’s nothin.’ I won 30,000. Twice!,” Conrad would proclaim.

Now, we could have fretted about this. Actually “fretted” is too delicate a word for a saloon. We could have gotten snarky. We could have blasted these guys as friggin’ bald-faced liars. But, that would have tootled us down the lane to Ulcer land.

We took a healthier route. We assumed the taproom of the Empire Hotel was knee-deep in BS. We assumed most everything we heard in there was less than the truth. What happened in the Empire stayed in the Empire. Because, if you talked about it outside the Empire, nobody would believe you.

So, the next time the lies from public figures get you down, I suggest you remember the Empire Hotel. Remember the pearls of wisdom learned and earned within its smoke-encrusted walls. Ask yourself: What would the regulars down at the Empire do at this stage?

The answer is always the same. They would roll their eyes. And order another round. And, ask who’s payin’ for it.

From Tom…as in Morgan.        

Tom Morgan writes about political, financial, and other subjects from his home near Oneonta, in addition to his radio shows and TV show. Contact him at tomasinmorgan@yahoo.com