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Before the answers to life’s questions fit in our pocket, you used to have to turn a dial. If you were lucky, Phil Donahue would be on, ready to guide you toward enlightenment. In a stroke of deluxe good fortune, Dr. Ruth Westheimer might have stopped by to be the enlightenment. He was the search engine. She was a trusted result.
Donahue hailed from Cleveland. The windshield glasses, increasingly snowy thatch of hair, marble eyes, occasional pair of suspenders and obvious geniality said “card catalog,” “manager of the ’79 Reds,” “Stage Manager in a Chevy Motors production of ‘Our Town.’” Dr. Ruth was Donahue’s antonym, a step stool to his straight ladder. She kept her hair in a butterscotch helmet, fancied a uniform of jacket-blouse-skirt and came to our aid, via Germany, with a voice of crinkled tissue paper. Not even eight years separated them, yet so boyish was he and so seasoned was she that he read as her grandson. (She maybe reached his armpit.) Together and apart, they were public servants, American utilities.
Donahue was a journalist. His forum was the talk show, but some new strain in which the main attraction bypassed celebrities. People — every kind of them — lined up to witness other people being human, to experience Donahue’s radical conduit of edification, identification, curiosity, shock, wonder, outrage, surprise and dispute, all visible in the show’s televisual jackpot: cutaways to us, reacting, taking it all in, nodding, gasping. When a celebrity made it to the “Donahue” stage — Bill Clinton, say, La Toya Jackson, the Judds — they were expected to be human, too, to be accountable for their own humanity. From 1967 to 1996, for more than 6,000 episodes, he permitted us to be accountable to ourselves.
What Donahue knew was that we — women especially — were eager, desperate, to be understood, to learn and learn and learn. We call his job “host” when, really, the way he did it, running that microphone throughout the audience, racing up, down, around, sticking it here then here then over here, was closer to “switchboard operator.” It was “hot dog vendor at Madison Square Garden.” The man got his steps in. He let us do more of the questioning than he did — he would just edit, interpret, clarify. Egalitarianism ruled. Articulation, too. And anybody who needed the mic usually got it.
The show was about both what was on our mind and what had never once crossed it. Atheism. Naziism. Colorism. Childbirth. Prison. Rapists. AIDS. Chippendales, Chernobyl, Cher. Name a fetish, Phil Donahue tried to get to its bottom, sometimes by trying it himself. (Let us never forget the episode when he made his entrance in a long skirt, blouse and pussy bow for one of the show’s many cross-dressing studies.) Now’s the time to add that “Donahue” was a morning talk show. In Philadelphia, he arrived every weekday at 9 a.m., which meant that, in the summers, I could learn about compulsive shopping or shifting gender roles from the same kitchen TV set as my grandmother.
Sex and sexuality were the show’s prime subjects. There was so much that needed confessing, correction, corroboration, an ear lent. For that, Donahue needed an expert. Many times, the expert was Dr. Ruth, a godsend who didn’t land in this country until she was in her late 20s and didn’t land on television until she was in her 50s. Ruth Westheimer arrived to us from Germany, where she started as Karola Ruth Siegel and strapped in as her life corkscrewed, as it mocked fiction. Her family most likely perished in the Auschwitz death camps after she was whisked to the safety of a Swiss children’s home, where she was expected to clean. The twists include sniper training for one of the military outfits that would become the Israel Defense Forces, maiming by cannonball on her 20th birthday, doing research at a Planned Parenthood in Harlem, single motherhood and three husbands. She earned her doctorate from Columbia University, in education, and spent her postdoc researching human sexuality. And because her timing was perfect, she emerged at the dawn of the 1980s, an affable vector of an era’s craze for gnomic sages (Zelda Rubinstein, Linda Hunt, Yoda), masterpiece branding and the nasty.
Hers was the age of Mapplethorpe and Madonna, of Prince, Skinemax and 2 Live Crew. On her radio and television shows, in a raft of books and a Playgirl column and through her promiscuous approach to talk-show appearances, she aimed to purge sex of shame, to promote sexual literacy. Her feline accent and jolly innuendo pitched, among other stuff, the Honda Prelude, Pepsi, Sling TV and Herbal Essences. (“Hey!” she offers to a young elevator passenger. “This is where we get off.”) The instructions for Dr. Ruth’s Game of Good Sex says it can be played by up to four couples; the board is vulval and includes stops at “Yeast Infection,” “Chauvinism” and “Goose Him.”
On “Donahue,” she is direct, explicit, dispelling, humorous, clear, common-sensical, serious, vivid. A professional therapist. It was Donahue who handled the comedy. On one visit in 1987, a caller needs advice about a husband who cheats because he wants to have sex more often than she does. Dr. Ruth tells Donahue that if the caller wants to keep the marriage, and her husband wants to do it all the time, “then what she should do is to masturbate him. And it’s all right for him to masturbate himself also a few times.” The audience is hear-a-pin-drop rapt or maybe just squirmy. So Donahue reaches into his parochial-school-student war chest and pulls out the joke about the teacher who tells third-grade boys, “Don’t play with yourself, or you’ll go blind.” And Donahue raises his hand like a kid at the back of the classroom and asks, “Can I do it till I need glasses?” Westheimer giggles, maybe noticing the large pair on Donahue’s face. This was that day’s cold open.
They were children of salesmen, these two; his father was in the furniture business, hers sold what people in the garment industry call notions. They inherited a salesman’s facility for people and packaging. When a “Donahue” audience member asks Westheimer whether her own husband believes she practices what she preaches, she says this is why she never brings him anywhere. “He would tell you and Phil: ‘Do not listen to her. It’s all talk,’” which cracks the audience up.
But consider what she talked about — and consider how she said it. My favorite Dr. Ruth word was “pleasure.” From a German mouth, the word conveys what it lacks with an American tongue: sensual unfurling. She vowed to speak about sex to mass audiences using the proper terminology. Damn the euphemisms. People waited as long as a year and a half for tickets to “Donahue” so they could damn them, too. But of everything Westheimer pitched, of all the terms she precisely used, pleasure was her most cogent product, a gift she believed we could give to others, a gift she swore we owed ourselves.
I miss the talk show that Donahue reinvented. I miss the way Dr. Ruth talked about sex. It’s fitting somehow that this antidogmatic-yet-priestly Irish Catholic man would, on occasion, join forces with a carnal, lucky-to-be-alive Jew to urge the exploration of our bodies while demonstrating respect, civility, reciprocation. They believed in us, that we were all interesting, that we could be trustworthy panelists in the discourse of being alive. Trauma, triviality, tubal ligation: Let’s talk about it! Fear doesn’t seem to have occurred to them. Or if it did, it was never a deterrent. Boldly they went. — And with her encouragement, boldly we came.
Wesley Morris is a critic at large for The New York Times and a staff writer for the magazine.
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Along a bustling sidewalk in Boston, a bright yellow payphone invites folks to “call a Boomer.”
Almost 3,000 miles away in Reno, Nevada, a nearly identical phone prompts residents of Sierra Manor – an apartment complex for seniors – to “Call a Zoomer.” The goal is simple: to get strangers to talk to each other.
The project, often referred to as simply “Call a Boomer,” is the latest initiative from Matter Neuroscience, a New York-based company dedicated to mapping the “biomarkers of happiness.”
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By connecting “two of the loneliest demographics” (older adults and younger adults), the project aims to prove that on a molecular level, “humans need one another in order to be happy,” according to Calla Kessler, a social strategist at Matter Neuroscience.
Along a bustling sidewalk in Boston, a bright yellow payphone invites folks to “Call a Boomer.” (Matter Neuroscience)
“Younger adults and older adults tend to experience the highest levels of loneliness of any age group,” the company wrote on its website. “So the goal of this project is to inspire generational connection through meaningful conversations, despite differences in age, lifestyle or politics.”
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The hope, according to Kessler, is that the calls will shift the brain’s focus from stress to bonding.
“Our neuroscience angle is cannabinoids over cortisol,” Kessler told Fox News Digital. “Cannabinoids are the feel-good neurotransmitter in our brain that creates that warm feeling with a friendship — and when you activate cannabinoids, you’re counteracting the negative effects of cortisol, which is our primary stress hormone.”
“Younger adults and older adults tend to experience the highest levels of loneliness of any age group,” the company noted. (Matter Neuroscience)
This isn’t Matter’s first round of payphones. Its initial experiment connected one of the most liberal cities in the U.S. (San Francisco) with one of the most conservative (Abilene, Texas).
“We basically just wanted people to find common ground and encourage people to think beyond labels,” Kessler said.
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She noted that the negative results were “almost negligible,” with most participants enjoying their time speaking to different people.
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Now, the focus has shifted from political labels to generational divides.
The negative results have beem “almost negligible,” with most participants enjoying their time speaking to different people. (Matter Neuroscience)
As the “Call a Boomer” experiment continues, the team is busy collecting audio files of these intergenerational chats to prove that simple connections with other humans can help improve mental health.
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“Our research is essentially trying to find a non-pharmaceutical cure to depression,” Kessler added.
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Looking ahead, she said, “we’ll definitely be doing fun things that we hope get people’s attention and inspire them to learn a little more about themselves.”
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A New York City father is desperately seeking a donor to save his teenage son’s life.
Max Uribe, now 15 and a high-school freshman, has just weeks until he will need to be hospitalized with a rare blood disorder that could lead to a deadly cancer.
“Max was just 6 when we first noticed there was something wrong with his blood counts,” his father, Juan Uribe, told Fox News Digital. “At the time, we thought it was due to a viral infection, but they never fully recovered back to their normal level.”
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In December 2024, Max’s condition grew worse, and he was diagnosed with clonal cytopenia, a condition involving the blood and bone marrow.
“All three of his blood counts are low — red, white and platelets,” Uribe said.
Max Uribe, pictured with his parents and sister, is in urgent need of a stem cell transplant to save his life. (Uribe Family)
In August 2025, another bone marrow biopsy revealed that Max is on a path to bone marrow failure, creating an urgent need for a stem cell transplant.
“The disease has continued to progress, as his blood counts continue to drop, and therefore, we have to take him to transplant in May of this year,” Uribe said.
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If left untreated, Max’s condition could lead to MDS (myelodysplastic syndrome), a type of blood cancer, and from there possibly into acute myeloid leukemia (AML).
A bone marrow match must have a specific type of HLA (human leukocyte antigen), which are proteins found on the surface of most cells in the body, according to the National Marrow Donor Program (NMDP).
Max Uribe, pictured with his parents, will be hospitalized for a transplant in May, as his blood count has been steadily decreasing. (Uribe Family)
The closer the donor’s HLA markers are to the patient’s, the more likely the body will accept the new cells without a high risk of complications.
People from the same ethnic background are more likely to share similar HLA types, meaning a patient is most likely to find a compatible donor among individuals with similar ancestry, per the NMDP.
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Non-Hispanic White patients have a 79% chance of a perfect match. That drops to 49% for Hispanic/Latino patients, 29% for Black patients and even lower for mixed ancestries, the NMDP reports.
Because Max is a “very rare combination” of half-Colombian from his father and a mix of Italian, British and German from his mother, his path to a perfect match is proving much more difficult, Uribe noted.
“For a kid like Max, with complex, mixed heritage, the math is devastating.”
“For a kid like Max, with complex, mixed heritage, the math is devastating,” he said. “The thinking is, we need large numbers if we’re going to have that perfect match for my son.”
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Max, who participates in competitive tennis and varsity wrestling, just had additional blood work done on Friday, which revealed that his counts continue to plummet.
“We’re at the point where this is beginning to manifest a bit more, which is why the urgency is so critical,” Uribe said.
Because Max is a “very rare combination” of half-Colombian from his father and a mix of Italian, British and German from his mother, his path to a perfect match is proving much more difficult. (Uribe Family)
If a donor is not secured by Max’s hospitalization in May, the medical team will have to proceed with a partial match, which is not ideal for a number of reasons.
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“The survival rate is meaningfully lower with a partial match, and there’s more risk of graft versus host disease (GVHD), which could lead to complications in the process,” Uribe said. With GVHD, the donor cells begin to attack the body.
Max Uribe, an active athlete, is on a path to bone marrow failure, requiring a stem cell transplant. (Uribe Family)
To help prevent this with a partial match, Max would likely need chemotherapy and immunosuppressants for a longer period of time, which could weaken his immune system.
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Anyone interested in donating can order a free test kit on the Team Max website. The kit includes a quick cheek swab that is sent back to the lab to determine whether someone is a match.
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