Blog #124

Austin, my 9-year-old Grandchild #6, loves science.  We have just started reading Origin of Species.  You know -- Darwin?  Evolution?  You remember Evolution, don’t you?  That’s what Creationists don’t believe in.  They’re still waiting for Noah to show up with the two unicorns he forgot. Actually, their latest reason to reject Darwin is pretty convincing.

Now here’s our conclusion in sum:

The monkeys are not where we’re from

‘Cause we’ve read the positions

Of our politicians

And monkeys could not be that dumb.

Maybe the Creationists are right.  Maybe all of us haven’t fully evolved from the chimpanzees.  I’m talking about myself here.  I’m very knowledgeable about evolution and physics and chemistry.  I have an undergraduate degree in Mathematics and a Law degree.  I’ve taught High School Math and Jail House Math and English.  And yet, today at the grocery store, I had to ask for help to open the cellophane produce bag for my tomato.  No, not Carol, a real tomato.  Now that doesn’t sound right.  My wife is a real “tomato”, but . . . oh, you know what I mean.  The bag – not Carol, the cellophane bag -- even has an arrow on one end so you know that’s the place to pull or push or rub or – well, I couldn’t do it.  So I asked a nice young woman who was stacking Ambrosia apples if she could help me.  Was I embarrassed?  Not in the slightest.  You see, age gives you a plausible excuse for not being able to do things like downloading an app or Facetiming or changing a light bulb.  Or opening the simplest little cellophane bag.  The young woman smiled, opened it on the first try and said “magic”.

Did you know there are 7,500 different varieties of apples and that 100 varieties are grown commercially in the United States?  Now you do.

Ok, back to Origin of Species.  Austin reads some of each page and I read the rest and we stop for questions and explanations.  It will take us years, but how lucky are the two of us?  He will always remember his Poppy teaching him Evolution.  He’s very lucky.  But I am also profoundly lucky that at my age I have a loving, curious, happy and smart little boy who actually wants to listen to this old man rant on about science.  It’s wonderful!  I hope he doesn’t want to know how to open a cellophane bag.  At lunch the other day, he said, “You know, Poppy, when I think of all the best times of my life, you’re in almost all of them.”  C’mon now.  Can I cry?

I’m actually thinking about writing a science book about the variety and effects of laxatives.  I’m calling it The Origin of Feces.  You should read it; it’s got all the latest poop.  Sorry about that!

And speaking of the latest poop, I just heard that Melania Trump has come up with a great solution to the border crisis.  “Let them eat kale,” she reportedly said to the President, who immediately dispatched trainloads of the popular vegetable to feed the detainees at the border.  Latest videos show the detainees climbing back over the wall into Mexico before the trains arrive.  Such a simple solution.

I’m back now.  I was vacuuming.  (I know that’s how you spell it, but it just looks wrong.)  After my heart attack in 1997, Dr. Heart gave me just three restrictions -- do not play craps, do not vacuum, do not have sex with an unfamiliar partner.  Seriously!  I have not played craps or vacuumed since.  But now, the person who comes to clean, doesn’t come to clean, so Carol has been cleaning, and I volunteered to vacuum until we can find a replacement.

It’s not the vacuuming itself that’s so hard, it’s the cord.  It’s always in front when it should be behind (like my wife) or on the left when it should be on the right (like my Liberal friends).  Sometimes it’s wrapped around my leg or my ear.  And, of course, the plug is behind the bed.  I don’t think Dr. Heart talked about moving the bed.  I’m still working on the “unfamiliar partner” thing.  I wonder if he meant the vacuum cleaner.

My middle daughter lives just outside of Berkeley, California.  Berkeley made the news recently by re-writing it’s City Code to eliminate gender-specific words.  For instance, the word manhole can no longer be found in the Code and has been replaced with the term maintenance hole.  And the term pregnant woman has been replaced with pregnant person.  Someone’s going to have to explain that one to me.  There are lots of other changes.  You can find them all in the Berkeley City Person-ual.

Unfortunately, these adjustments have caused the Berkeley Repertory Theater to change its brochure announcing the upcoming season, which now will consist of the following shows -- Person of La Mancha, The Music Person, Funny Young Person, The Book of Morperson, The Lion Ruler, Parent Mia, Unmarried Person Saigon, Jersey Young People, The Ruler and I, My Fair Person, Waitperson, Mean Young People and of course People and People.  Are you having trouble with that last one?  It’s the show with the song, Luck Be a Person Tonight.

One of my closest friends died this week.  Rest in peace, Lenny.  The author Douglas Pagels said, “A friend is one of the nicest things you can have, and one of the best things you can be.”

I spoke at the funeral, injected a little levity, and I must have done an okay job because I have since had 25 people ask me to speak at their funerals plus one proposal of marriage.  I’m considering the proposal, but am rejecting the rest.  I do not want to talk about any more of my friends’ funerals.

Lenny was a good friend, a fan of my blog and always made me laugh.  I hope I’ve made you smile a little today.  A little humor can help sometimes.  Stay well, count your blessings and be sure to be here next week for another warped and wicked, sick and sinful edition of L.O.  I’m sure I’ll find something to say.

Michael                                    Send comments to:  mfox1746@gmail.com