The New York Times, Henry Peterson on Jeff Bezos going to Space

Gonzo Hobo Published in The New York Times

June 10, 2021June 10, 2021 Henry Peterson

I’m just a middle-aged, hobo writer living with his parents, but the writing gods were with me yesterday. Or maybe it was just a slow day at The New York Times‘ editorial department.

On Monday, I read the news that Jeff Bezos — that bald, reptilian bastard — is going to space on his rocket ship. Great, I thought. He’s going to the cosmos while his workers pee in bottles because they can’t take adequate bathroom breaks. Incensed, I fired off a letter to the New York Daily News. When I didn’t hear back I sent a slightly different version of the letter to The New York Times the next day. The Times published my letter yesterday with an edit, which I approved. To my surprise, the Daily News also ran the letter yesterday.

I tried to work some Gonzo into the writing, but The Times sanitized part of that, omitting the line about Bezos’ workers peeing in bottles. Here’s the unedited letter:

Well, bully for Jeff Bezos. He’s going to space on his rocket ship while his workers pee in bottles because they can’t take adequate bathroom breaks. I’ve got an idea: before Bezos becomes the next Buzz Aldrin, why doesn’t he focus on giving his employees a living wage and humane working conditions?

We have an alarming crisis of inequality in America — and it’s getting worse. This isn’t a prescription for a stable society. Space exploration might be a step forward for Bezos. But Amazon’s been a giant leap back to the Gilded Age for its workers.

The Daily News ran what I sent verbatim, pee line included. Pure Gonzo, as Hunter S. Thompson would say.

To make The New York Times and Daily News on the same day is indeed a thrill. I’ll take it. I raced down to the gas station at 5 a.m. and picked up both papers. Then I joined my mother and her friends for lunch and cocktails. After that, I headed to Cortland for an evening gig where the owner shorted us on money. We got a bag of Dominican cigars as partial compensation. The one I smoked was a turd and it gave me a headache. At the end of the day, a hobo’s still a hobo.