CBS Sunday Morning,

Our CBS Sunday morning podcast is sponsored by Edward Jones. College tours with your oldest daughter. Updating the kitchen to the appropriate decade.

Retiring on the coast. Life is full of moments that matter, and Edward Jones helps you make the most of them. That's why every Edward Jones financial advisor works with you to build personalized strategies for now and down the road. So when your next moment arrives, big or small, you're ready for it. Life is for living.

Let's partner for all of it. Learn more at edwardjones.com. Good morning.

I'm Jane Pauley, and this is Sunday Morning. For the record, your medical records are very likely no longer crammed into that overstuffed file folder. They're probably in a computer file thanks to a company you've likely never heard of in a place you'd probably never guess.

With Lee Cowan, we'll learn all about it. In this digital age, certainly no surprise that your medical records are electronic. But what may be surprising is that it's largely one company's software that's responsible. And even more surprising, maybe what that company looks like and where it is. What do you think Epic has done to the local economy here? You mean the Silicon Valley of the Midwest?

The Epic campus and the epic reach of a company aptly named Epic ahead on Sunday morning. We're in conversation this morning with Oscar-winning actor Richard Dreyfuss. Ben Mankiewicz is asking the questions. Richard Dreyfuss has created some of the greatest characters on film, but there's one he's really not proud of.

Can you ask about me? You sure did. So best part ever for an actor your age, what happened when you saw it? You've done your own work, haven't you?

I thought that I had given the worst performance in the history of celluloid. A candid conversation with Richard Dreyfuss later on Sunday morning. The lion in winter we'll be telling you about is our first president, George Washington, in his later years.

With Chip Reid, we'll be looking back. After eight grueling years of war and another eight as our first president, George Washington was looking forward to a peaceful retirement at Mount Vernon. It didn't quite work out that way. He got anything but a peaceful retirement. His retirement was filled with controversy, intrigue, and personal torment. The father of our country's final years later on Sunday morning. Luke Burbank takes a Sunday drive to Bob's Red Mill.

Faith Salie explains why she's not always a team player. And more, all coming up when our Sunday morning podcast continues. For a while now, we've been hearing about how all our medical records are going electronic. So, for the record, how exactly does that work?

Rather than ask your doctor, ask our Lee Cowan. This may not look like the typical setting for a medical software company. Get in a little closer and that's even more evident. It's as much theme park here as anything. Alice in Wonderland kind of stuff, literally. The workspaces here can be in old railway cars or subway cars, treehouse and gingerbread houses. Even its employee cafeteria looks like a train depot to a land that storybooks are written about. I walked through and was like, what is this? What it is, is the self-described intergalactic headquarters of Epic in the middle of the farm fields of Verona, Wisconsin, just outside Madison. If you've never heard of this place, just ask your doctor because it's Epic software that handles the private medical records of about 60% of the patients in this country, probably yours. One of the things that strikes me is that Epic has such a big reach and it really impacts so many people's lives and yet so many people have never heard of Epic. Yes, it's behind the scenes. We haven't advertised.

We haven't put out press releases and I don't know if that was a good thing to do or not. Judy Faulkner is the 76-year-old genius behind Epic, a computer software engineer and admitted nerd who built this curious place in her own curious image. A hint of her personality was revealed last year when, to celebrate Epic's 40th anniversary, she dressed like she was back in the 70s again.

Well, here's the skinny man. That's far out. She's a little far out too, far out in front. She not only built a giant tech company from the ground up, but in the process made herself one of the richest self-made women in the world. We have to compete with Facebook, Google, Microsoft, Apple, etc. We get a lot of acceptances because people look around and say, I think I'd like to work here. There are nearly 10,000 employees at Epic who mingle among the artwork. That about doubles the population of Verona.

It's a young place, average age about 26. Peg Horner and Nicholas Bostrom could have worked in sunny Silicon Valley, but they chose to come to wintery Wisconsin instead because they say as far as big tech companies go, Epic is doing more than just building phones. We feel like we have an impact to make and it's something that I actually really value about here. I don't feel like I'm just clocking in and clocking out. You know, we're not here to just grind out on something that's not really doing anything.

It's making other people be able to be healthy and happy. It was 1979 when the company started in a basement with just two employees. The goal, to move patient records from overstuffed dog-eared manila folders to digital records accessible with a click of a mouse. No one had spent much time figuring out just how to get a computer to handle all that data, but Faulkner always had a way with computers and she engineered a program herself. I used to like when I was a kid to play with clay and make things out of clay and I always thought of computer programming as clay of the mind. The first time I did something, there it was on the screen, it was wow.

It's very creative. In the decades that followed, it grew from the mundane to a system that is now integral to patient care in nearly every major U.S. health system. Its ubiquity means that you can now go almost anywhere to be treated and your medical records will likely follow you there.

Here's an example of what my test results look like right from here. In fact, you can now check your lab results, refill medications, make appointments, even share your medical records right from an epic app, says engineer Sean Bina. So all of this data was never available in the past and now you can see it all on the phone. Paper records served us pretty well for centuries, but boy what a rat's nest of data. In this case, the patient's getting blood drawn, they're going to a surgery visit, they're going to pain clinic, they're going to mammography.

Dr. Steve Peters is a pulmonary critical care physician at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. It's the old days I don't want to rush back to. He showed us mock-ups of what those old detailed paper records used to look like and how they used to travel. So the records would go in here. Records from Mayo Clinic patients used to fly around from room to room in those pneumatic tubes. There must have been miles and miles of tubing. It's like the arteries inside of the building. It was state-of-the-art in record-keeping at the time, so it does make a certain amount of sense that the Mayo Clinic would end up today being the single biggest client of Epic, spending over a billion dollars over the next several years to integrate its systems.

How much is this going to change things? We've been keeping track of the diagnoses of the Mayo Clinic patients since before we had electronic records, but the ability to have it all coming from one source makes it a lot easier. Without good access to data, you really are flying blind.

We have at the head and the foot of the bed. The Mayo Clinic's trauma rooms now have more screens than a Best Buy. Epic's Mallory Hines-Roth worked with Dr. Heather Heaton to customize a system that allowed critical patient information to be displayed on those screens all at once. So the data is getting monitored from the patient who's on the table, going into their record in the computer, and then being presented up real time. With all that data, though, at your doctor's fingertips, their fingertips can be pretty busy.

Too busy, say some. Because of patient privacy, we can't really show you all the data that doctors have to enter on that Epic system, but some tell us it's too much. And if you've been to your doctor lately, you know it can feel like they spend as much time entering data on a keyboard as they do on you.

But Dr. Peters says, get used to it. It's like blaming the word processor for a homework assignment for a student who has to write a term paper. It is where the documentation has to go.

The technology isn't the enemy, it's just the reality. That's correct. Epic is, however, working on a solution that would free up your doctor altogether. One of the things that might be coming down the road, I understand, is instead of having to key in everything, you might sort of have the Alexa of medical records.

That is correct. And how would that work? The doctor would just say, hey Epic, show me Lee's history, and that would come up.

And in the end, the doctor would say, hey Epic, write my note, and the whole note would be written. I know you don't store the data, but I think some people think you probably do. So how do you handle the privacy concerns if all of this information is out there floating around?

Yeah, that is such a good question. I think it always makes sense to be a little bit worried, but I was at a talk once where the man giving the talk held up paper medical records and said it was so easy to put a white coat on, walk into the chart room, and pull out any records he wanted, and walk out again. Computerization is probably a safer way to do it.

Not a perfect way, not a hundred percent, but safer. In a place with a stairway to heaven and an elevator to hell, there's no shortage of imagination here at Epic. Medical records don't really sound all that fanciful, but here, and in Judy Faulkner's mathematical mind, anything seems possible.

Really, it's technology and software development working together. I'm waiting for the decoder ring to come out. And now a page from our Sunday morning almanac, February 23rd, 1836. 184 years ago today, the day Mexican General Santa Ana's forces laid siege to the Alamo in San Antonio. Armed supporters of Texan independence from Mexico had recently seized the former religious mission, legendary frontiersman Davy Crockett among them. Vastly outnumbered, the defenders held out for 13 days before being overwhelmed and slaughtered on March 6th. Remember the Alamo immediately became the battle cry of the Texas Revolution, which led to a decisive victory just a few weeks later.

They don't look very friendly. Let's get. Since then, the story of Davy Crockett and the Alamo has proved irresistible to movie makers. He's offered to let us surrender. He's waiting for an answer. Let's give it to him.

Fire in the hole. From the 1950s Disney version with Fess Parker to the 1960 movie with John Wayne. Santa Ana didn't have much respect for us today.

To the 2004 remake with Billy Bob Thornton. But the Alamo story is not without controversy. Many historians regard the decision to stand and fight a reckless one made against the orders of the principal Texan commander, Sam Houston. Still in 2018, the Texas State Board of Education rejected calls from educators and historians who wanted to change school textbooks, which referred to the Alamo defenders as heroic.

We'll never surrender and ever with liberty be heroic or foolhardy. The story of the Alamo lives on and attracts more than one and a half million visitors every year. Well, remember the Alamo. Remember the Alamo indeed.

A milepost by which to remember last week. A not at all secret change of course for struggling lingerie retailer, Victoria's Secret. L Brands, the company that owns the chain announced its selling controlling interest to a private equity firm for $525 million.

Declining viewership put an end last year to the long running TV fashion show and retail sales have been in a slump as well. The brand is embedded in the past. Analyst Neil Saunders told the Associated Press, it was always about men feeling good.

It should be about making women feel good about themselves. Milwaukee, Oregon is our destination this morning. Home office of a man whose success is all about starting over.

Luke Burbank is at the wheel. If you've strolled down the aisle of a grocery store recently, you've probably seen him staring down from a bag of flour with his white beard, trademark hat and slightly quizzical look. It's the face of Bob Moore, founder of Bob's Red Mill. What do people say when they come up to you?

Like, you know, oh my gosh, I got your picture in my cupboard. Oh, I know there really is a Bob. And the other thing is, is you're not dead. You know, not only is he not dead, but at age 91, he's thriving. Bob Moore is an unexpected celebrity in the whole natural and organic foods industry. If I had my life to live over, I would have started way early in this business. Really?

Yeah. I mean, you know, I started in the middle of my life. Moore was in his 50s in Southern California, working at gas stations and auto centers. When on a whim, he walked into a library and picked up a book that would change the course of his life. I still read this about three times a year. The book, John Goff's Mill, tells the story of a man who, without any prior experience, purchases and rebuilds an old grain mill.

It inspired Moore to do the same. Had the thought of running any kind of a milling operation ever crossed your mind? Never.

Never. I know it's crazy. A crazy idea that eventually led Moore to Milwaukee, Oregon, where in 1978 he and his late wife Charlie set up Bob's Red Mill. Stone ground. That's the only way flowers and cereals are ground at my mill. More than 40 years later, the company has come a long way, grinding out more than 400 products that are sold in more than 80 countries. Now you need to stir that.

Okay. But if there's a signature product that Bob makes, a sort of favorite child, it would have to be his oatmeal. How many years have you been eating this for breakfast for?

Oh, my mother fixed this stuff. So 90 years, give or take. And you're not tired of it yet? You don't get tired of the good food. Come on.

Mix in some simple healthy ingredients, you know, flax seed, banana. I'm gonna have it the way you're having it. This is milk.

And it turns out you've got a recipe for success. There you go. All right.

Eat away, my friend. Cheers. Cheers. Yeah. I think you should like this. That has so much flavor in it.

I mean, for something that is made of relatively simple components. I love it. That healthy start to the day might have been why we had a hard time keeping up with Bob Moore. Here, let me hear. Stay with me, Bob.

You're a fast walker. When he took us on a tour of his factory. Has anybody told you that you're 90 years old? I don't let them tell me that. Over the years, Moore's also been ignoring would-be buyers of his company. Some online estimates put the company's worth at 100 million dollars.

But Bob, he was staying mum. You know what your business is worth, right? Or do you not want to know? I don't want to tell you. Believe me, I can't afford it.

You're in no danger. It's not for sale. The other reason he won't sell? Because he's actually giving the company away to his 500 plus employees.

I was able to put my kids through college because of that. So Bob really cares about finance. Employees like Dave Guider, Lucy Reyes, and Keith Showalter, who based on how long they've worked here, are all now part owners of the company. Do you ever tell people that you own Bob's Red Mill? No. That's the thing I would do. And I would just and I would just low-key the part that I own point zero zero zero zero zero five percent of it. I'm part owner of that place.

I mean you would be accurate if you said that, right? Yes, maybe. So now you know the story behind the face on the back.

It's the story of a man with a mill and a mission to spread good food. Turns out Bob Moore really is someone who cares. When you get right down to it, I really like doing this. I don't want to do anything else. But gold won't bring you happiness when you're growing old.

Now streaming. I used to believe in progress that no matter what we do, we just end up back at the start. We're in crazy time. The Paramount Plus original series, The Good Fight, returns for its final season. The point isn't the end.

The point is winning. There are bad people in the world. The best way to protect the good people is to convict the bad. So here's to us.

The Good Fight, the final season, now streaming exclusively on Paramount Plus. Many a dog is having his or her day thanks to a special bond with the big-hearted boy Steve Hartman has been watching in action. Eight-year-old Robbie Gay loves an underdog. Bring him to the Flagler County Humane Society in Palm Coast, Florida, as we did, and ask him to find a favorite. He will seek out the oldest, mangiest, least-adoptable mutt of the lot. There's something about old dogs that I just like. Do you see yourself in these dogs?

Yes, sir. He knows what it feels like not to be loved and cared for. He's the most hopeful, optimistic, and genuinely caring kid who has absolutely no reason to be that way. Robbie's adoptive mom, Maria, says before he entered the foster system, Robbie was a holy terror. So badly abused, he was twice hospitalized with brain injuries.

Then, two years ago, Maria and her husband Charles adopted him. It was just a good day. What did that day mean to you?

Everything. He has come a long way, except in this one respect. Maria says he could not cry. Despite the horrors of his past, or maybe because of them, the kid was a stone.

Until earlier this month. One of Robbie's old dogs, Buffy, had to be put down. He wanted to hold her till the very end and insisted his mom take pictures of the process.

Perhaps because he knew what was about to happen. After Robbie finally let go, he told his mom, I know how it feels not to be loved or cared for. I know how it feels not to be loved or cared for. And I don't want any animal of mine to feel that way. Nor does he want any foster kid to feel that way. Because people don't want older people and older dogs. They only want babies and puppies.

He is so aware that it could have gone totally differently for him. And in these older dogs, Robbie's found a place to practice compassion. Someday, Robbie wants to adopt older foster children himself.

Go up and knock on the door. But until then, to show his commitment and do what he can, he has vowed to adopt as many old dogs as his parents will allow. Do you love her? Today it's a lame, snaggle-toothed Shih Tzu named Molly. Molly's owner had to go into assisted living.

But now Molly has a new home, thanks to the sweet little boy who sees his reflection in the eyes of the suffering. A lion in winter is one way of describing the later years of George Washington, whose 288th birthday was yesterday. A marked contrast after the historic accomplishments that came before, as we hear now from our Chip Reid. Through eight grueling years of the Revolutionary War and another eight as the first President of the United States, George Washington was sustained by a dream. Of the day when he would return to Mount Vernon, his beloved plantation high above the Potomac River, where at 65 years old, he aspired to a peaceful retirement as a farmer.

But that's not quite how it turned out. He got anything but a peaceful retirement. His retirement was filled with controversy, intrigue, and personal torment. Jonathan Horn is the author of Washington's End, The Final Years and Forgotten Struggle, published by Scribner, a part of Viacom CBS. The book begins where most Washington biographies end, as he rode off into the sunset. But at Mount Vernon, he quickly became restless. Horn compares him to a lion in a cage. He was waiting for news from the capital of Philadelphia, and here's where he'd be pacing back and forth.

He could go for miles on this piazza. The year was 1798. France was attacking American ships at sea, and war with the former ally seemed imminent. Washington was named Commander-in-Chief of the new army, even though according to the Constitution, that title belonged to President John Adams. Even so, Washington accepted the position, and just over a year after stepping down as President, he was back in Philadelphia. So he just couldn't let go.

It was really hard to let go. He had created this country. This country is his legacy, and he's worried about what's going to happen to it. His prized reputation took a beating as enemies, including former friends Jefferson, Monroe, and Madison, condemned him for acting like a king. So that should dispel the idea that all of our founding fathers were good friends. In a remarkable parallel to today's politics, Washington's Federalist Party accused France of meddling in the presidential election at the request of Jefferson and his fellow republicans.

The so-called quasi-war with France soon cooled off, and Washington returned to Mount Vernon. Though he was just 66 years old, he was plagued with a serious of torments, including his health. As Horne writes, his hands are not as steady as they once were.

His back stoops. His hearing has weakened, but not so much that he does not hear the whispers about his senility. His memory, always bad, has become worse. His vision has declined. But perhaps worst of all, his teeth were gone, replaced by dentures not made of wood.

As the old story goes, but of ivory, animal teeth, and human teeth, possibly from enslaved people he owned. It's no wonder Washington rarely smiled. What was his relationship like with Martha Washington in these final years?

Well, by this time in his life, he'll tell you that marriage is the great joy of life. But he and Martha were raising two grandchildren from her first marriage, and even the father of the country struggled to keep up with the demands of parenthood. He's constantly disappointed by Martha's grandson, George Washington Parke Custis. He keeps dropping out of schools. The boy promises to do better.

He never actually does. Despite his good relationship with Martha, he still appeared to have strong feelings for Sally Fairfax, a married woman he had loved in his youth. We know that because he wrote a letter to Sally Fairfax, and he said all the things he had done in his life since then had not brought him as much joy as the time he spent with Sally Fairfax as a young man.

Other family secrets may be lost forever, because tragically for historians, Martha burned almost all of their letters to protect their privacy. What did the story tell you? What did this place, Mount Vernon, mean to George Washington? Well, this was home for him. It was his sanctuary. Doug Bradburn, president and CEO of Mount Vernon, says despite all the challenges, Washington did fulfill some of his dreams here. He became a pioneer of modern farming, experimenting with seeds and fertilizers, and he built one of the nation's largest whiskey distilleries.

So, where are we now? Well, this is Washington's study. His study? Yes, I like to call it his man cave. I mean, this is where he loved to do his work.

Massive correspondence, corresponding with people all over the world. Successful as he was, it's important to note, Washington never would have done well as a farmer and businessman without the 300-plus enslaved people who toiled at Mount Vernon. Bradburn says that during the war, Washington's views on slavery and slavery changed, in part due to the heroism of black soldiers. He hopes there's some way that legislation will be passed to end slavery.

But his actions sometimes contradicted his words. According to Horn's book, Washington said that getting work out of his slaves sometimes required a little of the overseer's whip. He remained a slave owner until his death. This is the George Martha Washington's bedchamber here. Is this where he actually died? This is where he died. This is the actual bedstead that he died in. And sadly, what a grim death it was from a throat infection easily cured today with antibiotics.

His doctors repeatedly bled him the practice at the time of about five pints of blood, which only made him weaker. He basically suffocated to death. The father of our country suffocated to death. It's a brutal way to go.

In his bed. When death was near, he dressed in fine clothes and surrounded by family, doctors, and slaves. His last words were simply, "'Tis well." George Washington was 67 years old. He went out in that sort of stoical fashion that he wanted to project, and he knew people would be telling this story for centuries. And so he wanted to do it in style. George Washington let go of life like he let go of political power, bravely and with one eye on history. I play the guitar in the middle of the night whenever I cannot sleep, and I meditate every morning, complete with chanting and burning incense.

So if you've got to walk around, I'd appreciate a little tiptoeing. Also, I sleep in the nude. A buffo. It's Sunday morning on CBS, and here again is Jane Pauley. Richard Dreyfuss boasted of bearing all in his utter pain. Yes, and here again is Jane Pauley.

Richard Dreyfuss boasted of bearing all in his Oscar-winning performance opposite Marsha Mason in the movie The Goodbye Girl. So how revealing will he be in conversation with our man in Hollywood, Ben Mankiewicz? Let's find out. So because we know each other, and I think you like me. I think.

I'm not sure. And we have many accomplishments to talk about. I would like to start with failure.

That's the way I usually start things. Producers in London. Yes.

So it's 2004. Richard Dreyfuss had signed on for the Mel Brooks musical The Producers in London's West End. When Mel Brooks had called me and asked me to do it, I had said, Mel, I don't dance and I don't sing. And he said, oh, who cares? You're funny.

Six days before the first preview audience, I was fired because I didn't dance and I didn't sing. Call it a hiccup in what has mostly been a lifetime of success. Shall I get the cups? What?

I'll get the cups. After a brief one-line debut in 1967's The Graduate. One, two, three o'clock, four o'clock, rock. You might say Richard Dreyfuss's career was on fire by 1973. George Lucas directed him in American Graffiti. Now take it.

Along with a few other big names. We're leaving in the morning, all right? Ron Howard.

We're leaving in the morning. Harrison Ford. Hey, doll, where'd you come on a ride with me? Who are you? Do you know me? And then Steven Spielberg called.

How do you know me? Steven had called me and said, I want to meet you about Jaws. Don't read the book.

To this day, I've never read the book. That's how good an actor I am with directors. He didn't want you to have any preconceived notions about how the character should be.

Yeah. And he told me the story and it was exciting. He said, you want to do it? I just went, no. He said, why? And I said, because I'd rather watch this movie than shoot it because I'm an idiot.

There's really no other explanation. I'm pretty stupid when it comes to certain things. He's not going to help me in a million years.

The man is not going to help me. After turning Spielberg down, Dreyfus landed what he thought was the best part ever written for an actor his age. The apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz.

Dingelman is fighting me for this land. The best part ever for an actor your age. What happened when you saw it? You've done your own work, haven't you? I thought that I had given the worst performance in the history of celluloid.

Ha ha, no winners. Woo hoo, OK, having fun. All right, here we go. And after watching himself on screen as Duddy, Spielberg's shark movie was suddenly far more appealing. Hello. Hello, Beck. You thought the performance in Duddy Kravitz was so bad, you reversed your decision of saying no to Jaws and said yes to Jaws.

Yes, I turned it down twice. I saw Duddy Kravitz. I called Steven and begged for the part. You were terrified that Duddy would end your career.

Yeah, yeah. So he got on Spielberg's boat. And while they were still filming Jaws, Dreyfus started lobbying for the lead in Spielberg's next big film, Close Encounters of the Third Kind. I decided that I would badmouth every actor ever born that could possibly play that role.

And I did. Those actors were? De Niro, Pacino, you name it. What would you say about De Niro?

I mean, I guess it's not... I said, I said, De Niro has no sense of humor. Pacino's crazy. And I would just walk by on the desk and go, oh... Gene Hackman's impossible to work with.

Yeah. One day, I said, Steven, you need a child. And he looked up and said, you got the part. Mr. Nilly, I envy you. Close Encounters was a game changer in Hollywood.

But for Richard Dreyfus, the other film he made in 1977 would be even bigger. May I come in? Door's open. Are you decent? I am decent. Do you realize it? It's three o'clock in the morning and my daughter... Jesus Christ, you're naked.

A screen adaptation of a Neil Simon play. I thought you said you were decent. I am decent.

I also happen to be naked. One morning, a friend of mine calls and says, did you hear that Bobby De Niro got fired this morning? This is the movie he did right after Taxi Driver. Right.

And Mike Nichols was directing Bogart Slept Here. I don't like it. I don't think I like you. Because I'm an actor?

Coupled with your personality. Long story short, Bogart Slept Here became the Goodbye Girl. Elliot. Oh yes, call me Elliot. I've already bitten your neck. Elliot, I am praying to God this is all gone in the morning. The hell you are.

Meet me in the kitchen tomorrow night dressed casual. The chemistry between Dreyfus and Marsha Mason dazzled Neil Simon, won over the audience and impressed Oscar voters. If you're ever up for an Academy Award, I promise you I'll keep my fingers crossed for you.

What is it about you that makes a man with 147 IQ feel like a dribbling idiot? My agent called and said, you've been nominated for the Goodbye Girl. I went, wow. And then I said, who else is nominated?

Woody Allen, John Travolta, Marcello Mastroianni, and Richard Burton. And I went, I'm going to win. And my agent went, right. And I said, I'm going to win. John Travolta was too soon. That's right.

No question. Richard Burton had just passed the hump. If he had been nominated the year before, they would have given it to him in a second. And we all would have stood up and given him a standing ovation. No one was ever going to give Marcello Mastroianni the best actor. And no one was going to give Woody Allen best actor because it was the year of Annie Hall. He was going to win everything else. Screenplay, director. So I said, I'm going to win.

And new heavyweight champ, Richard Drake. What actually impresses me most about you is you have all this wild success from like 73 to 78 and you get a substance abuse problem and you get the famous one because you're famous and you recover from that. Right.

I imagine incredibly difficult process. I could tell you all kinds of things that you don't have time for, but I decided to be a better person. And I think that that's a legitimate goal. And I like that about me.

That includes forgiveness. Bob, your behavior is completely inappropriate. Dreyfus has publicly told a story about a longtime beef with Bill Murray that began on the set of 1991's What About Bob? When Dreyfus says that Murray, drunk, threw an ashtray at Dreyfus's head, it missed.

Is it just you and me or is it you and everybody? Now Dreyfus has stopped telling that story and he says he's ready to forgive. I haven't done it with Bill and I will.

We've never crossed paths. And one day I will write him a note and say, as far as I'm concerned, it's over. Dreyfus is 72 now, living in San Diego. You can still see him in upcoming movies, but you'll never see his Oscar out on display in his house. I literally walked into your house here, into the room where we're taping this, looked at the wall and said to the producer, where's the Oscar? Did you? Of course, yeah. Where's the Oscar? Oh, this is great. The Academy Award for Best Actor for 1977.

Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. Yeah, it's heavy. And it's also cold. And he's naked. He is freezing. I'll put him back where he goes, right next to the orange juice in the smoked white fish salad.

After a career facing down sharks, aliens, and his own demons, Richard Dreyfus has somehow managed to stay cool. Wow. Back to our own time and a currently popular buzzword that has Faith Sehle teaming with annoyance. Hi, team.

I'm going to need your help unpacking and drilling down on a word that's getting some increasingly indiscriminate use. And team, that word is team. Are you part of a team at work? Do you get emails that start with team and hear people say, let me run that by my team? What is a team exactly?

Let's go to the dictionary. A team is defined as a number of persons associated in some joint action. It's also two or more animals harnessed together to draw a vehicle, which gets to the heart of why some might object to being called team. It can feel a little nonconsensual. Like if you're just told you're on the team, did you sign up?

Did you try out? Were you drafted or harnessed like an ox? There is no I in team, but there is a me and me not so sure how I feel about all this. If you're a boss or a leader, as corporate America would prefer you to say, it feels better to call the people who work for you team rather than calling them staff or direct reports or minions. Colleagues is formal. Folks sounds folksy. Comrades, peeps, squad, y'all, all y'all. What did we used to say before team?

You guys, I applaud leaders who want to be collegial and egalitarian, but throwing out the T word can also be self-serving. Yes, it enrolls your coworkers, but it also creates plausible deniability. If you say team, it makes everyone responsible and it sure is useful to postpone making decisions or deliver bad news when you can blame it on the team. Maybe we back away altogether from the sports metaphor.

I love musical theater. Why don't we replace team with ensemble? I did have a hair and makeup team today.

This is what I looked like before. We've got a great group here at Sunmo. When you work here, you get to call it Sunmo, but we don't call ourselves a team. I guess because there's an I in Sunday morning. Gosh, maybe if we did call ourselves team, we'd get so much more done. Like we'd need more Sundays every week just to air all our shows.

Oof, I'm too tired to be on a team. We've received a belated Valentine from viewer Marcy Mylands of Morgantown, West Virginia, a kind of photo album. Thank you. She says for, in her words, producing such a high quality program. She sent along heartfelt best wishes for Tracy and Martha, Serena, Mo, even Bill Geist. Gracious, she has me in there as well, along with my two predecessors, Charles and Charles. Happy Valentine's Day to you too, Marcy. And remember Lee Cowan's visit a few weeks back to the Firehouse Theater in Kingston, Washington, which film buff Craig Smith has been operating on a shoestring.

We've word that his GoFundMe page has received more than $213,000 in small donations from some 5,000 of you movie lovers. Saving the theater and keeping the projector and popcorn popper on. I'm Jane Pauley. Thank you for listening and please join us again next Sunday morning.

you too. From the newest interior design trend, Barbie Corps, to the right and wrong way to wash your armpits. Also, we're going to get into things that you just kind of won't believe and we're not able to do in daytime television, so watch out. Listen to Drew's News wherever you get your podcasts. It's your good news on the go.