Mailbucket #13: Some of Us Need Help (Including Me, With Tech)

Also: How do you forgive friends who call you a Nazi-enabler?

As heard on Members Only #257, our stalwart Fifdom community member Alisa G. had a nasty thing just happen to her Soviet-refugee Israeli parents, and is seeking help. She’s not the only listener in a pickle! While we can’t be in the full-time fundraising business here, we can lend a hand to our pals in need, while also sharing poignant experiences that (as you shall see) might be of utility to other people around these parts. Including me, with the technology.

Been a while since our last Mailbucket, so a quick reminder of how this works: A) You send us more emails than we can possibly read; B) sometimes they’re great; C) sometimes they’re great and LONG; D) sometimes when they’re great and long, and especially when they share some level of informed experience not necessarily available to the rest of us, and/or just some A+ humor, I collect ‘em here in a lil’ bucket, do some light-touch editing, and answer when appropriate (or not!) in italics. Let’s get on with it:

From: Alisa G.

Subject: Cloned Voice, Soviet Parents, and a Taxi Full of Mattress Cash

Date: April 20, 2025

Hello boys,

Long time listener, since Jan. 2021 (Kmele on Maher), and a paying one since about the same time. I've met you all in Miami, D.C., NYC (several times), and of course Chicago. Am I a stalker? Possibly. At a D.C. Reason event, I briefly chatted with Matt about dealing with parents with Alzheimer's/dementia (he was charming and semi-coherent, in the way only a whiskeyed-up Matt Welch can be). I’ve always appreciated how you manage to cut through noise without condescending, and keep things human even when everything is stupid.

I've written to you in the past about some bullshit, but this is extra bullshitty bullshit. I’m writing today, Easter Sunday, fittingly, to share something deeply personal and completely absurd that happened to my family earlier this week.

Less than 24 hours after I got back to the U.S. from Israel, where I’d spent five months helping care for my elderly parents and was very entertained by some fun rockets from Gaza (one fell a block away from parents' building in Ashkelon a few weeks ago), they were scammed out of their entire life savings. Someone hacked into my dad’s Viber and used a cloned version of my voice to convince them I’d been in a car accident, hurt a pregnant woman, and needed money for bail and surgery.

They kept my dad on the phone for four hours, my mom on the landline. She has dementia and couldn’t understand what was happening, just that I was “in trouble.” My parents followed instructions, packed up all their cash (yes, cash, my dad kept it under his bed), and handed it off to a taxi sent by the scammers. The scammers even promised to return the bags and provide receipts the next day. There seems to be a trend right now with scammers based in Russia targeting the Russian-speaking Israeli population. It's wicked to do this to a country at war, on top of everything they've been through. (My mom's dementia got severely worse after Oct 7th.)

So all of their life savings: $40,000 + 35,000 NIS gone. Poof.

The next day, of course, no one came back with the promised receipts. And when I tried to explain to my dad that it was all fake, he said, “But YOU were crying on the phone…” They also hacked his Viber, so he couldn't make calls to me and I couldn't reach him.

The whole thing is surreal. They’d worked their entire lives, my father in chemical and plastics factories, my mother as a caregiver, and like many Soviet immigrants, they never trusted banks.

I’ve been unemployed since March 2023 and have been scraping by on my own savings. I’m currently in NYC, staying with a friend, trying to figure out what comes next. I’ve started a GoFundMe to try and rebuild some sort of safety net for them.

If you feel like sharing, I’d be incredibly grateful, even just a mention could go a long way. Here’s the link: https://gofund.me/51dfd5b8

Thanks for always making space for both absurdity and real humanity and for reminding people that yes, everything is stupid, but somehow still worth showing up for.

And happy Easter! May your resurrected selves not be holding cash under a mattress.

Your Soviet Israeli best friend,

(As mentioned, that was TEQUILA, not whiskey….)

***

From: Laura G.

Subject: April 21, 2025

Date: Follow up to David Zweig Interview

Hi guys,

Paid subscriber here! Sorry for the long email!

Matt, I loved your interview with David Zweig so much I felt compelled to write to you guys. What really stuck out to me was how his experience woke him up as an adult.

It really resonated with me, as my son was diagnosed with autism over a year ago. The only things the doctors told me that can help is a lot of therapy (OT, Speech, PT, and the infamous ABA therapy [for] which my son has been waitlisted for over a year!). Specialist after specialist ignored my son’s medical issues and dismissed everything as “just autism.”

We then found an integrative doctor last fall who understands the biomedical aspects of autism. Within the past few months of working with him and implementing lifestyle changes like dietary changes, supplements, etc., I’m starting to get a glimpse at who my son really is. He is a sweet 4-year-old who is trapped in a sick body which most doctors ignore because of this label!

I have had to become an expert, poring through peer-reviewed studies on what supplements, prescriptions and therapies can help my son. My career is completely on hold at the moment, as I have no faith in the medical system. I basically have to treat the doctors as car mechanics and come armed with research papers to each appointment so I can present my hypotheses. The hard work is paying off, as I’m finally finding doctors willing to help, but it should not be this hard. Most parents of an autistic kid do not have this luxury of having a stay-at-home parent and knowing how to read research papers.

I’m beyond irritated by the leftist decision to “celebrate autism.” Autism quirks are cute, but having a 4-year-old still in diapers who cannot have a conversation with me is heartbreaking. I cannot believe RFK Jr.’s desire to speak about severely autistic kids like mine has become a partisan issue.

Besides needing to vent, in case this message is shared on the podcast or in a mailbag newsletter, I want to make myself available as a resource for any member of the Fifthdom who knows someone on the autism spectrum and wants to learn more. Please do not hesitate to connect them to me!

Kind regards and keep up the great work!

(Thank you for the generous offer, Laura, and continued success making progress with your boy! I know many people, including in my family, and also a guy I met just last weekend, who have gone through the eye-opening process of becoming more expert in the medical condition that affects them than 99 percent of the professionals they see. No disrespect to doctors—medicine is hard, and every individual is an individual! But few things beat a hyper-motivated consumer.)

***

From: Dave H.

Subject: A 4-Bourbon Message From a Dispatch-1 Listener

Date: April 22, 2025

To my guys at the 5th,

I don’t have the energy to talk shit to Moynihan tonight, come up with some humorous fucking Trump comment, or give a shit about the length of my email. That said, I still don’t trust the man—Moynihan, not Trump—liking my fiancée Heather’s posts on Instagram. She’s a convert to the pod, and I think she’s fallen for his voice and general dickery. But I love you all too much to hold it against him.

For the record, I’m on my fourth bourbon after a 10-hour drive. The adrenaline hasn’t worn off, so I don’t think the bourbon’s touched me. But we’ll see how this message develops.

I’ve written to you a couple times over the years—I think about music mostly. Who knows. I’ve been listening since the very beginning. Paying my way—modestly, because I work for a nonprofit, and my salary reflects that—but gladly, because what I’ve gotten from you is worth far more than I’ve paid. These past 10 years have been some bullshit. But your dispatches became my substitute bar, my fuckin’ bull session in the cab of my truck, and my cheap therapy at night in my hotel rooms. I think I speak for many, I can't thank you enough.

Anyway. I’m writing now because Heather’s sister, Jennifer—Jenny—has had a devastating few months. I’ll include Heather’s GoFundMe post at the bottom, because it’s far more eloquent and composed than I am. But here’s the short, possibly profane version:

Jenny has been suffering from brutal migraines for years. Last fall, during a migraine so bad she couldn’t function, doctors discovered a mess of blood clots in her brain. She was immediately put on blood thinners, with a follow-up angiogram scheduled.

A month ago, during what was supposed to be a routine angiogram, she suffered a brain-stem stroke. She lost all movement on her right side and her ability to eat, speak, or function independently.

Three days into rehab, she had a brain bleed. Rushed into emergency surgery, part of her cerebellum was removed. She lived. Thank God. But her recovery was set all the way back.

Now—miraculously—she’s beginning to speak again. She can eat with help. She can shower, use the restroom, all with assistance. But she is nowhere near ready to go home.

But that’s exactly what’s about to happen: In 10 days, she’ll be discharged. Not because she’s ready—but because her insurance says she’s out of time.

We’ve found a rehab facility in Pomona that specializes in stroke recovery—exactly the kind of place she needs to be. But it’s expensive. And because it’s post-hospital care, her insurance won’t cover it. Twenty years paying into the system as a public school teacher, and now, when it matters most, she’s on her own.

I’m certainly not a fire-breathing anti-everything (though I carry a fair bit of Moynihan’s class rage), but if ever there were a moment to say, “fuck this,” it’s now.

We’ve raised about $17,000. We need at least $30,000 for one month in the rehab facility. That month could be the difference between full recovery and lifelong disability. And that’s only one month. The facility is looking over her records now.

Jenny has two boys—Logan and Hudson, 14 and 9—who adore her and rely on her for everything. She is the central nervous system of that family: She knows where everyone needs to be, when, how, and with what jersey, book, or orange slice. Her husband is a good dude, he loves her deeply…. He’s trying, but Jenny is the engine. Without her, things grind. She’s a supermom in the truest sense, and right now she’s deeply compromised. The longer she stays that way, the harder it becomes for her to give her boys the structure and love they need. They need it, and she can give it.

That’s why I’m writing to you. And to the whiskey-fueled comrades and compañeros orbiting through Kmele’s Mysteries of the Universe book. This is a wildly uncomfortable ask. But I’ve seen the 5th community show up before. I’ve heard it. Even if I get roasted for this message—I’ll take it. Just take a look at the GoFundMe.

It’s ironic—if I’m using irony correctly—but Jenny and her husband are deeply committed evangelicals. Your podcast would probably offend them on every level: theological, political, cultural, linguistic. But goddamn, I would love for her to recover just so I can tell her who helped. Jenny would secretly love the fact that a bunch of “radicals,” “anarchists,” “punks,” “ne’er-do-wells,” or whoever else is listening had a hand in her recovery.

Heather and I are at our breaking point. Our dog died the week before Jenny’s stroke. My sister was diagnosed with triple-negative breast cancer the day after Thanksgiving. And Heather is carrying it all.

Please, if you’re reading this—share the link. Let this community do what it does. Ten bucks here. Twenty bucks there. We need help. And for the first time in my life, I’m asking for it like this.

Here’s the GoFundMe:

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-my-sis-jennifer-brown-recover-from-a-brain-stem-stroke

I’ll come to the next live show—ticket or not—and buy a round for every last person in the room. I've been negligent toward this community, and I think it's the one that would actually bring me comfort. I'm in SoCal—if anyone wants to grab a drink, talk baseball, college rock, history, or whatever other bullshit is on your mind, I’m buying.

With gratitude, admiration, and a bitter laugh at the absurdity of it all,

Dave

P.S.: Jennifer has a sneaky sense of humor. I’ve seen her drink wine when no one’s looking.

P.P.S.: In my own bourbon fueled befuddlement I forgot to say thank you to Kmele. That Cormac quote he read a couple weeks ago had Heather and I crying for days. "Seize them back. Speak with them. Call their name. Do this, and do not let sorrow die, for it is the sweetening of every gift." Goddamn. I mean, goddamn. Goddamn. That's where she and I are at.

(Beautiful, heart-stretching email, Dave, thank you for sharing it. Hey SoCal peeps—looking at you, ChayaLeah!—see what we can do to rally some community for our bro. And please do note that careless offer to buy rounds….)

***

From: Julia P.

Subject: How to Forgive a Friend

Date: Feb. 14, 2025

Dear fellas,

I am but a mere paying subscriber looking for some advice on how to forgive a friend.

I recently was hosting a group of friends at my home when the topic of Elon Musk came up (don’t ask me how; I was drinking at the time). As a rule of thumb, I generally don’t talk politics with my friends, but my friends also generally know where I am on the political map (homeless with an inclination towards libertarianism). I made the mistake of expressing some admiration for Elon and not calling him a Nazi, which led to immediate ire being cast upon me by one of my friends. When asked why I admired him, I pretty much just pointed to the accomplishments of SpaceX. That was not an acceptable answer; how can I separate the man from his accomplishments? My answer was that I personally have been able to do this with multiple figures, and pointed to other examples, such as listening to Michael Jackson or watching The Cosby Show. Do I think M.J. or B.C. were good people? Of course not. But I do think they were incredibly talented, and I don’t personally look to Hollywood to be moral authorities in society. Also, one is dead and the other is blind now, so we all get our comeuppance one way or another. My other friends laughed, but it just enraged the one more. How could I not see the parallels of this moment to Nazi Germany (cue eye roll), and how could I accept people who had voted for Don the Fascist? All of this felt so elementary to me, and my response was that I didn’t judge a person based on who they cast their ballot for (I have come to view [that] as placing a bet). I was immediately told that they had lost respect for me as a person, and they weren’t sure they could love me as a friend anymore.

Keep in mind, I am hosting this, and there are other people in the room when this all goes down. This person also doesn’t know that one of our friends in the room (!!!) did vote for Trump.

I have been friends with this person for 6-7+ years, and we actually work together. I have even watched her child on multiple occasions. By the end of the night, this person did apologize to me (probably because I was led to tears -- I am, if you couldn’t tell, your sole female listener), and tried to retract what they said, but I’m honestly still pissed that my character and decency were called into question, because in her mind I have shitty views. I told them we should just move on, but how do I actually do that now?

I assume I’m not alone in being torn to shreds by a lefty friend. How have you fellas handled situations like this? I don’t have concerns with the working relationship, but I don’t feel super chipper at the prospect of hanging out outside of work anytime soon.

All the love,

(First of all: NOT the only female listener; see above. Second, variations on this question seem to come up a lot, which is why I include it here. [The community by now has developed some strategies!] My advice is: Forgive, because she apologized, and the granting of forgiveness is one of the hardest and most important things a human can do…. But do not yet forget, because you will want to see [indeed, if you have not seen in the two months since you sent this mail!] whether she was just trying to dodge in-the-moment responsibility for your [lady-]tears, or whether she as actually and appropriately contrite for her boorish behavior at your house. Does she or does she not understand that accusing someone of being a Nazi-enabler for expressing at their own table insufficiently condemnatory opinion about a multi-faceted person whose government activities amount to a fraction of what makes him interesting? If so, great. If not, a certain cooler distance is appropriate.

You asked how we have handled situations like this. I am a public figure, so there is thick buildup of extra dermis, plus long experience in being pricked. That said, over the past half-year or so four different friends, each of whom I’ve known for three-plus decades, have come at me pretty hard, sometimes publicly—for sucking up to Megyn Kelly, for being a middle-aged white-guy libertarian trying to be cool by not supporting Democrats, for allowing myself to be described as “libertarian” when there are other self-described libertarians who do such monstrous things as supporting Donald Trump, and [yes!] for being insufficiently alarmed at Elon Musk … three years ago. I will confess here that it dulls the ol’ ardor, particularly after repeated, humor/generosity-free follow-ups, and decreases my appetite for engagement. Not out of any sense of anger, but just kind of puzzlement and sadness—for them. I have never let politics affect friendship, and rarely insert the stuff into the more pure & joyous realms of human interaction, but that feeling is far from universal; and like I said, I’m a public figure who *does* talk about the politics, so.)

***

From: Tim H.

Subject: Welch and Tech

Date: April 22, 2025

[Ed note: The following were sent during a tech-challenged Substack Live appearance on Josh Szeps’s whatever thingie.]

I think I found your problem ...

I hope not to have to send you any more of these, but this is one of the single best things I've ever seen.

With love (and bourbon),

Tim

Final update: The live stream has been closed and abandoned, its listeners scattered to the wind as Matt's phone died. The remainder will be available at some point via Szeps' podcast.

(Listen. What did I say the day before, in response to Szeps’s promo? “Hope to see ME there, considering Josh-o’s onerous tech asks….”

How did I know this would be problematic? Because Substack Live inexplicably requires one to record on one’s phone, which is something some of us otherwise experienced podcasters have never done, on account of having a dedicated microphone/camera/interface/headphones system designed for the explicit purpose of producing (clearly superior) audio and video. Add to the never-before category the requirement to use Apple-branded Earwigs, or whatever the fuck these devil-sticks are called. Oh, sure, ha ha, look at the old guy doing the Earwigs wrong…. Motherfucker, if you have not voluntarily tried to cram torture instruments into your own ear-holes, how are you to know that they have … microphones on them? That are directionally hyper-sensitive?

Here are my verbatim words to Josh-o’s tech producer John-o, the day before: “There are a LOT of potential pitfalls to this -- never used airpods, don't have a phone stand, am 56 years old -- but I have a teenager, so will figure out something.” OK, so, I didn’t really “figure out something.” But!

UPDATE: Aforementioned teenager just came back home, saw the pictures, pointed at me, laughing, and said: “Coupable! Coupable! It’s giving Boomership.” Guilty as charged.

OK! Keep those mails coming.)