Blog #171

I often use Google on my phone, and each time I open the app, it shows little articles of interest, some newsworthy, some just strange.  This week, I saw the following:

OKLAHOMA WOMAN THROWS ABUSIVE HUSBAND’S ASHES IN THE TRASH.

I immediately yelled, Right on, Sister.  There’s no reason we have to say nice things about a bad person just because he’s dead, is there?  I know one day I’ll go to a memorial service and the wife will take the microphone and tell us what a beast her deceased beast was and that she’s thrilled he’s climbing the Stairway to Heaven – or wherever.  Well this Oklahoma woman did it.  She wanted nothing to remind her of that creep.  Actually, she did keep a small memento or two.

I burned George’s body to ash

Then I threw the whole thing in the trash

But although he’s in Hades

I kept his Mercedes

And four-hundred thousand in cash.

A little nostalgia can be important.  Hi there and welcome back.  Thank you for all of your notes wishing Carol and me a Happy 53^rd Anniversary.  I appreciated each one.  Carol got me one of those new watches as an Anniversary gift.  It doesn’t take my pulse or count my steps.  It doesn’t even tell the time.  It just blinks when my belt doesn’t match my socks.  And it emits a loud siren if I try to wear linen.  You know, one of the symptoms of Covid is that you lose your taste.  Carol assures me I never had any to begin with.

Are you feeling well?  I hope so.  The world keeps getting stranger.  Is the Covid thing leveling or is it spiking?  Can we go outside now or only if we’re protesting?  I asked Siri for the weather and she said, “What do you care?  You’re not going anywhere anyway.”  And, by the way, is Seattle still part of the United States?  I wonder what they’ll call their new country – Starbuckia?  Or Nocopsia?  Or maybe Antifia?

Message from Shakespeare:  “The lady doth protest too much, methinks (Hamlet).”  There sure are a lot of protests going on, and I have one of my own.  I protest the use of the word “methinks.”  It’s silly.  Methinks I’m going to tell Pops that mewalked onto the porch and mepooped in the litter box.

Life has become so bizarre.  Last night I was Facetiming with my three oldest grandchildren (19,17,14), and we got into discussing current events.  All three of them are whiz-bang smart, have very strong opinions and are very vocal.  And they have become radicalized and disenchanted with much of what happens in America.  We argued and stated our cases and I got so excited that my pacemaker opened the garage door, but nobody got mad or did any name-calling, and it was great fun.  I’m proud of them and respect their passion.  I also know that the perspective of a teenager is very different from that of an old white guy who apparently is not woke*.  I trust they will lose some of their bad ideas and keep a whole bunch of the good ones and change everything for the better.  Change is anathema to old folks, but change is good and change is inevitable.  And I’ll be satisfied if the future is in the hands of bright, caring people like them. 

Weekly Word:  Do you know what woke means?  I certainly didn’t until just this week, so let’s make that our Weekly Word.  To be woke means to be alert to injustice in society, especially racism.

And injustice, of course, includes showing Gone with the Wind.  Look, I’m seriously suffering with what’s going on in our country.  I am very disturbed, and I know you are too.  But I can’t abandon my sense of humor or my efforts to make you smile a little, so here I go making fun of the people who want to ban movies.  The following are hereby banned forever.

12 Angry Men:  They are all white, and white men have no reason to be angry.

Casablanca:  Casablanca literally means White House.  Gone! 

Wizard of Oz:  The only dark-skinned characters in the whole movie are the flying monkeys and the dog.  Plus, it makes fun of short people.

Groundhog Day:  We never want to go through this again.

Godfather:  Are you kidding?  A bunch of white Italians go around killing people all day and we treat them like heroes, but one black man tries to pass a bogus twenty and he gets strangled.

Well, maybe that wasn’t so funny.  But you can’t watch movies anymore or Looney Tunes, so I guess you’re stuck with me.  That is, unless my blog gets sent to your SPAM file. It’s happened before.  Now, I have been called many names in my life.  I’ve been called argumentative.  I am definitely not argumentative, and I challenge you to prove it to my face.  I’ve been called repetitive.  I am not repetitive.  I have never been repetitive.  I am not repetitive.  I’m not.  I’ve been called stubborn.  Maybe.  But I have never been called SPAM.  I don’t even know what it stands for – Small Pesky Aggravating Missourian?  Stubborn Poppy’s Argumentative Mail?

Don’t forget Summer officially begins this weekend, so get out your polka-dot swimsuit, your snorkel-goggles and those ugly black flipper things.  Put them all on, take a picture and then put them back in the closet.  You’re not going anywhere.  And don’t forget that Sunday is Father’s Day, so I hope all you Daddios out there have a fine day with your families.  

Ok, don’t forget summer, don’t forget Daddy Day – there was one more thing I wanted you to remember, but I forgot.  Oh – don’t forget to come back next week.  In the interim, I’ll be out looking for a statue to tear down and a new brand of syrup.  You know Aunt Jemima is toast, don’t you?  And not French Toast either.  It’s racially insensitive, so they’re replacing the Aunt Jemima bottle with one that has Joe Biden’s picture.  It’s called Uncle Joe.  It’s not as sweet and you can only use it in the basement, but that’s our world.  Stay well, count your blessings and come back to me next week.  Did I say that already?  Maybe I am repetitive.

Michael                                    Send comments to:  mfox1746@gmail.com