Blog #276                                June 23, 2022

 

$62.00.  Sixty-two dollars.  Sesenta y dos dólares.  六十二美元

 

However you say it, that’s how much it cost to fill my wife’s tank this morning.  Well, it’s not actually Carol’s tank.  It’s the tank of her car, but you were probably not confused.  It is becoming impossible to live in this country for people who were just getting by only a few months ago.  In January of 2021, the Dow Jones Industrial Average was about $35,100 and the average price of gasoline was $2.38 per gallon.  If you took a little share of your nest egg, based on the Dow, say you took $35.10, you could buy 14.7 gallons of gas.  Today, with the Dow at $30,700 and gas at $5.01, you could take the same share of your nest egg ($30.70) and buy only 6.1 gallons of gas.

 

What in God’s green universe is this senescent old lunatic talking about with all those numbers that we don’t understand?

 

It means that your ability to fill up your tank with gas has gone down 59%.  And expecting our politicians to do anything about it is “like asking pears of an elm tree” (Don Quixote).

 

I was complaining about all this inflation and financial angst to Dr. Doctor as I was getting my physical.  He told me not to worry about money.  What’s important, he emphasized, was that even though I was showing my age I was the picture of health. 

 

I went to the doctor today

He said, “Everything is ok.

“Just forget about wealth;

“You’re the picture of health

“But the picture is Dorian Gray.”

 

Ugh, now he’s talking about some ancient book they wanted me to read in high school, but I read the Cliff Notes instead.  And quoting Don Quixote.  When is he going to talk about something we understand?

 

Hi there and welcome back, you gluttons for punishment.  I’m so glad you’re here and hoping you are well and happy.  I apologize for all the math and Dorian Gray crap.  Last week, in commemoration of Father’s Day, I told you a little about my Dad, but on Father’s Day I thought about my grandfathers too.  Do you remember your grandfathers?  My mother’s father didn’t like children, and I don’t remember ever getting a hug from him in the 21 years I knew him.  But my father’s father took me to the Zoo.  His name was Ben Fox; I called him Papa.  We would walk around the Zoo hunting for tigers and throwing popcorn to the fish in the lakes and eating hotdogs.  I was working at that same Zoo this week when a tourist asked me a question.  I get hundreds of questions, but I’ve never had this one before.  “Where are the foxes,” she asked.  My response: “There’s only one fox in the Zoo and you’re looking at him.”  Then I sent her to the African Painted Dogs. When I work at the Zoo, dressed in my green sash and handing out maps, I run into lots of different people.  Here are a few examples:

 

·        The Amish.  They always come in a group of a dozen or more, all dressed in their distinctive attire.  If I approach to offer my help, the main man confronts me.  He will instantly and gruffly refuse my offer of directions.  No-one else in the group will look at me or speak.  There’s a lesson to be learned by his clan – never speak to an old man wearing a Girl Scout sash.

·        The Married Couple.  The wife points to me, turns to her husband and says, “Go get a map.”  Lesson to be learned by the husband – do what your wife tells you or she will feed you to the hyenas.

·        The Unmarried Couple.  When I ask if they would like a map, the man says no and walks on by.  The woman follows with her head lowered.  Lesson for the woman – get rid of this control-freak loser and find a pleasant man who does what you want, someone nice, like the Girl Scout guy.

·        The Woman with Three Children.  She takes one map and, when her children cry that they each want a colorful map with the pictures of cute animals, she says, “No, one is enough.”  Lesson for the children – your mother is a bitch.  You should have let your father have custody.

 

Ok, time for some more questions about addresses:

 

1.     Who lives at No. 10 Downing Street?

2.     Who lived in the cupboard under the stairs, 4 Privet Dr?

3.     Who lives at Wayne Manor, Gotham City?

 

The Tony Awards were on last week.  I thought the Award Season had ended when JLo received the ICON Award.  ICON, according to JLO stood for I Can Overcome Negativity.  To me, listening to one of the most beautiful, most talented and richest women in the world advising us not to worry about negativity is kind of like having LeBron James telling us not to be depressed if we’re short.

 

Speaking of acronyms, I have discovered an organization whose name needs to be revamped -- The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP).   It’s about time, I believe, to change the “colored people” designation to “African Americans”.  Don’t you agree?  That will make it the National Association for the Advancement of African Americans (NAAAA).  The N Double-A Double-A.  It’s still a catchy name, and I sent a letter to the organization asking if they’d like to make the change.  Their answer was “Naaaa”.   Well, I tried.

 

Message from Shakespeare:  I have my own Anagrammatic Association.  It’s called ANIMAL, and stands for: Anyone Notice I’m Missing A Leg?  That poet guy said, All the water in the ocean can never turn the swan’s black legs to white (Titus Andronicus).  I can never understand what he’s talking about.  Who gave him my name anyway?  Purr.

 

Our Weekly Word is senescent, which means old and deteriorating.  You’re not too senescent to do the quiz, are you?  Here are the answers:

 

1.     Downing Street?  The Prime Minister of England.

2.     Under the stairs?  Harry Potter.

3.     Wayne Manor?  Batman.

 

You’re getting better.  Next week, we’ll get some tougher questions.  Study up.  Until then, stay well, count your blessings and visit the Zoo.  Look for me.  I’ll be the one wearing a Girl-Scout sash.

 

Michael                                    Send comments to mfox1746@gmail.com