A longtime friend, a guy I’ve known since we were sixth-graders in the same small-town Georgia elementary school, retires today. Another friend, a native New Yorker who overcame that terrible handicap and learned to love the South, will be jobless by the end of April. Both were caught up in downsizings.

The first is of retirement age only technically, and in any other era would be expected to put in at least another ten years at the office. The second is nowhere near retirement age, being exactly in that sweet spot of the career curve where experience and ability have combined to put him at the top of his game.

Instead, both are getting parked on the bench. Such are the times in which we live.

I fear this will be the unforeseen result of our economic travails: the widespread loss of the cooler heads and steady hands that are vital to any enterprise. At almost every American company, the employee with 25 or so years under his or her belt is the business world’s equivalent to a Marine gunnery sergeant — which is to say, the person who stays calm when chaos arises, knows when to ignore a stupid order from higher-ups, saves rookies from mistakes, has an uncanny knack for spotting competitive threats, and can field-strip the office copier in 30 seconds to clear a mysterious paper jam.

For all the slicing and dicing of news about the economy, I haven’t read anything that tells me which age group is being hit the hardest by layoffs. My fear is that people like my two buddies are taking a disproportionate share of bullets. If that’s the case, our economic recovery — which one expert recently predicted will take close to a decade, at least as far as the stock market is concerned — may be made even longer and more arduous by this loss of skilled hands from the workplace.

After all, sergeants run things. If you don’t believe it, ask anyone who’s ever been in the military.

News & Observer publisher Orage Quarles offered an “open letter to readers” in the Sunday paper, in which he sought to allay fears that the N&O is a failing enterprise. Setting aside the notion that denials, especially strongly worded ones, sometimes instead carry the unmistakable odor of confirmation, it’s worth pondering what Quarles had to say — and what he left unsaid.

The highlights:

… it’s time to set the record straight: First and foremost, The N&O is a profitable enterprise that is not about to go out of business. In fact, more people depend on us now than ever in our history.

I believe both statements are true. There’s a “but” which should be attached to both, however. The N&O’s profitability is lower, and probably much lower, than it has been in recent years, with recovery to former levels unlikely. And whatever growth in readership the N&O can claim has come almost exclusively in the form of online readership — which produces no direct revenue and a relative pittance in advertising dollars.

We’re not letting up on our public service mission, either. Newspapers play a fundamental role in maintaining and strengthening our democracy, and at The N&O, we take our watchdog role seriously.

Slate’s media writer, Jack Shafer, debunked that “essential to democracy” claim just three days ago. And while I’d agree that the N&O does an exemplary job of keeping an eye on politicians, its pursuit of bread-and-butter local news has dropped off considerably.

We’re maintaining our commitment to our readers, our advertisers and our community …We have had to make some very difficult decisions. The changes to the paper’s sections and layout have been painful, but they pale in comparison to eliminating the jobs of our employees.

Boy, talk about ignoring the elephant in the room: The words “McClatchy” and “debt” appear nowhere in Quarles’ message to readers. He glides easily from the trumpeting of profitability to regret for the cutbacks, without acknowledging the corporate debt that has hamstrung the N&O and every other McClatchy paper.

Meanwhile, you can count on The N&O to be in your driveway tomorrow morning, and every morning for a long time to come. We didn’t get our Old Reliable nickname by accident, you know.

This last paragraph is perhaps the most revealing of all. At a moment when everyone agrees that the newspaper industry’s biggest handicap is its failure to smartly adapt to the digital age, Quarles promises only that the N&O will still “be in your driveway.” In fact, online readers can’t even find Quarles’ remarks on the N&O’s site — which is why I couldn’t link to them here.

He doesn’t seem to realize that, in fact, the driveway is a graveyard. It’s where newspapers eventually will die, not thrive, as technology pushes relentlessly forward.

Three days ago, the New York Times published the full text of a resignation letter from a top executive in the AIG financial products division — aka the crisis-causing bunch of greed-heads who should be whipped with broken-off car antennas (to summarize popular sentiment). If you’re interested in hearing the other side of the AIG bonus scandal, this resignation letter is the best summary you’ll find. Its author is articulate, forthright and angry. One politician after another has demanded to know the names of the AIG employees who were paid bonuses. Well, now they’ve got a start on that list, thanks to a fellow who worked for $1 a year to fix the mess under the explicit promise that there would be a payday later — which the government now wants to confiscate.

Two days ago, I couldn’t have told you what “plasma balls” were (although my guess would have been they involve unprotected frolicking and subsequent visits to the clinic). Turns out that just one well-aimed plasma ball could trigger the collapse of civilization, as this report on solar storms explains. Great. Just freakin’ great. As if it’s not enough that I have to worry about nuke-wielding terrorists, wayward asteroids, financial meltdown, serial killers, being caught in a Blood-Crips crossfire, drunken drivers, identity theft, anthrax-filled letters from strangers, home invaders, planes falling out of the sky onto my house, raging chimpanzees, tornadoes, hurricanes, global warming, and the possibility that Rahm Emanuel will personally order my permanent, double-secret detention at Guantanamo for illegal dissent. Now I also get to fret about plasma balls. Thanks a million, scientists.

I was unsure about posting this video of a duo singing “The Breakfast Song” on the morning show of a Mississippi TV station — mostly because somebody has inserted subtitles written in a mildly condescending dialect. But when I found the same video linked from blackamericaweb.com, I figured everyone was responding to it in the same spirit — which is to say, with delight at the utter weirdness and sincerity of the performance. Minister Cleo is in heaven now, and I hope he knows his song has been viewed on YouTube almost 700,000 times. I also hope he’s eating his fill of pancakes, bacon, strawberry jam, etc.