Blog #203

 

Did you watch the Inauguration?  The songs and the flags and the poetry and the speeches!  It was all very grand.  The only things that bothered me were all the repetitions about healing and coming together and mending the nation.  I’m not sure how convincing the calls for healing are when your party is impeaching the guy that 75 million Americans voted for.  It’s like signing a peace treaty with Canada while your planes are bombing Montreal.  It’s like throwing a wedding for your daughter and seating the groom’s mother in the kitchen.  It does not presage a warm and peaceful relationship.  I should know, because I am the expert on successful relationships.  After all, my wife and I have had a wonderful marriage for 53 years.  That’s because we have the same goal in life – to keep her happy. 

 

I’m glad, at least, that we finally have a President who is older than me.  The last four were not.  In fact, Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, Donald Trump and I were all born in 1946.  We make a wonderful quartet, don’t we?  Three Presidents and a clown who writes limericks.  Sounds like one of those cognitive tests where they ask you which bird doesn’t belong in a picture of three eagles and a duck.  Well, somebody has to be the duck.  I have never kept score of my life by the great things I have or have not accomplished.  Most people never accomplish anything great.  But to live an ordinary life that’s fairly decent and fairly honest and to see your contributions to the next generation and even the one after that; well, I’m not sure there is more most of us ducks can wish for.

 

The last President older than me was Bush 41, and I respect my elders.  It just keeps getting harder to find any.  I never liked being governed by some young whipper-snapper.  I guess Trump was the Snapper and Clinton was the Whipper.

 

I got all dressed for the Inauguration in my favorite item.  I know my fashion faults and limitations and so does my wife.  I trust her judgment, but there’s one article of garb that I will let no-one disparage or talk me out of – a gray sweatshirt that has comfort written all over it.  Actually, it has “Sports Illustrated” written all over it and is as warm and as soft as a poodle.  I got it years ago for renewing my daughter Jennifer’s subscription to the magazine.  She’s a bigtime sports fan.  In fact, she was the first girl to win a varsity letter from an all-boys’ school we have here called Country Day.  She attended the girls’ school next door, saw them practicing football, walked over and talked herself onto the team as a manager.  Won two state championships.  Then she went to Duke University and became a manager on the men’s basketball team -- Christian Laettner, Grant Hill and all that.  Won a national championship there.

 

Back to the sweatshirt.  It was one of those insulting promotions available only to new subscribers.  I bitched about that and begged and pleaded that my little girl (she was about 35 then) was a loyal reader and wanted to cuddle up with a warm sweatshirt.  That worked, and when the shirt arrived, I stole it and never let her know.  And that’s what I wore for the Inauguration.  Don’t tell Jennifer.

 

Message from Shakespeare:  “The cat will mew and dog will have his day” (Hamlet).  What was that crap about soft as a poodle?  What does he think I am, Brillo?  Where is he?  I’m going to bite him.  Purr.

 

Hi there and welcome back.  I hope you’re feeling well and staying safe.  I must apologize to the State of Missouri and the Federal Government.  After complaining for weeks about the vaccination process and being as grumpy as a guy whose cat ate his winning lottery ticket, I finally got my shot. It was very organized and painless and I already have an appointment for the second dose.  The whole event, including waiting, registration, the shot and the recovery period took a total of one hour.  I was as happy as a pagan in an idol factory.  Does this mean I’m free?  Is this horrible disaster about to be over?  Am I going to be able to hug my grandchildren and see people smile?  Well, I don’t know, but it’s a start.  I hope you all are getting yours soon.

 

Do you have face-recognition on your phone?  Does it recognize you with your mask on?  I’m not sure how anyone can recognize me.  This morning I dropped some McDonald’s off for my grandchildren.  They came out to see me but I’m not sure they actually saw me.  I had a mask on and those big wrap-around shades to protect my eyes from the sun plus a golf hat.  I could have been anybody under that disguise.

 

With an old golfer’s hat on my head

And a mask that was yellow and red

Plus those shades on my eyes

Under all that disguise

I could have been Big Bird instead.

 

Maybe not.  Big Bird is a little taller than me.  Miss Piggy is a little taller than me.  So I went home and took a picture of myself, undisguised, and sent it to them.  I think I look better covered up.

 

I got very few comments last week because people who clicked on my email address at the bottom right were not sent to my email as usual.  I don’t know why.  I love your comments.  It’s the only way I can see what you like and don’t like.  Try something new this week.  Don’t click on the address at the bottom.  Just type in my address (mfox1746@gmail.com) in your email and send me a note.  Please, please, please try that for me.  I miss hearing from you.

 

Our Weekly Word is presage which means signaling that something, usually bad, will happen.  But it can also mean something good will happen, like you coming back for next week’s blog.  Stay well until then and count those blessings.  And please follow the above instructions about comments.  I have to go now and grab a Band-Aid.  Shakespeare just bit me.  See you later. 

 

Daffy                                       Sent comments to mfox1746@gmail.com.