Blog #313                                March 9, 2023

 

I was watching a new cable channel, the Catholic Game Channel. They have some great shows -- Dancing with the Saints, Vatican Squares, The Pope is Right and Who Wants to be a Pedophile.  Between shows, they had a commercial about what foods are a cardinal sin.  Bacon is bad and coffee and eggs and now sugar.  I would rather live less years with more sugar than more years with no sugar.  Did that make sense?  Everything is free range and organic and cage-free and gluten-free and sugar-free.  Diet Coke is bad for you and Big-Macs and the Boy Scouts and the Governor of Florida!  But now they’ve gone too far.  They’ve made Rice Krispies Multicultural!  The names of the three little guys have gone from Snap, Crackle, Pop to Juan, Amal, Mao.  Well, if you’ve seen Juan, you’ve seen Amal.  And what about Cap’n Crunch?  There’s a white supremacist for you!

 

We just got some mail regarding our upcoming 60^th high-school reunion.  Carol and I graduated together, high-school sweethearts, aww!  Included was a registration package requesting a picture and a summary of my life.  Ridiculous!  Forget the picture.  The only way anyone is going to be attracted to my face after 60 years is if it looks older than theirs.  And the life resumé -- they all look the same:  Married with four wonderful children and six beautiful grandchildren.  Have travelled extensively.  Love to read!

 

Where do I start?  Let’s start with the six beautiful grandchildren.  I have eight of my own, but grandchildren are like slobbering dogs.  I can tolerate mine, but keep yours at a very healthy distance.  And your travels?  Do I really care if you have a coconut autographed by Don Ho’s drummer?  And the reading part?  If I remember my class correctly, there are a few who would surprise me if they could read at all.

 

C’mon people, I know you agree with me.  We don’t care what all those old classmates look like and we don’t care what they’ve been up to for all those years.  Lose the picture and the synopsis and give us what we really want – a list of your medications.  I mean how much fun would it be to learn that Ken (yes, we actually had people named Ken back in the days when women would rather burn their Poodle skirts than name a child Apple or Jayden or Snoop) – how much fun to learn that Ken was taking Prilosec?  It serves him right, by the way; he was such a pain all those years.

 

And what about knowing that Freddy is taking Melatonin?  I’m convinced the reason he can’t sleep now is because he slept through Mrs. Kimmel’s Geometry class in Sophomore year.  And did you know that Sharon is on Zoloft?  I’m not surprised.  If I had to live with that Klingon she married, I’d be depressed too.  I’ve learned a lot of words in those 60 years, and my favorite is Schadenfreude.

 

Look, I’ve got issues of my own, and naturally if I read that someone was on some bad medication, I would suffer for them and pray for them, but wouldn’t that be the perfect information to help me empathize and re-connect better than knowing that their son works for Google or that their six-year-old took second in a regional oboe competition?  And do I really care that they had their picture taken standing on the Great Wall next to Pat Boone’s grandson?  Save all that for the obituary.

 

Hi there and welcome back.  I hope you’re feeling well.  Do you know what time it is?  I’m so confused.  I think we’re supposed to change our clocks this weekend because it’s getting lighter in the morning but darker in the evening.  That is, until Sunday when it will become darker in the morning and lighter in the evening, except in Arizona and Indiana where they have enough good sense to ignore this dance of the dials.  What’s the point?  I’ve forgotten.  As the old Indian said, “Only a white man would believe that you could cut a foot off the top of a blanket and sew it to the bottom and wind up with a longer blanket.”

 

And which is the “real” time anyway, Standard or Daylight Saving?  Why not just get rid of the Standard time altogether and make it Daylight Saving time all year round and put Arizona into the Pacific Time Zone and let Indiana secede?  I’m so discombobulated.

 

Weekly Word: I bet you thought the Weekly Word would be Schadenfreude, which means the delight you get from seeing someone else suffer, but that was our Weekly Word way back in Blog #186.  Don’t you keep a list?  I do.  No, this week it’s discombobulated, which means confused.  I’m discombobulated because I’m supposed to change this coming weekend, but am I switching to Daylight Saving, or back to Standard?  And is it backward or forward?  And who can stay up that late?  I need help.

 

I’m writing this cute little rhyme

To tell you that Saturday I’m

Going to spend the whole day

Changing clocks, but which way?

Please tell me, if you have the time.

 

Message from Shakespeare:  I wasted time, and now doth time waste me (Richard II).  I don’t need a watch.  I don’t even have a left wrist to put it on.  Besides, I always know what time it is – nap time, breakfast time, nap time, lunch time, nap time, bite Pops time, nap time.  Life is easy.  Purr.

 

I’ve got an idea.  All of you who vote for Democrats move your clocks forward and those of you who vote for Republicans move them backward.  A couple of hours difference couldn’t make us any farther apart than we already are.  But at least at the Early Bird Special, we’ll know who’s who.

 

I’m only teasing.  Of course I know what time it is.  It’s time to say see you next week.  I’ll try to be an hour earlier to make up for the time change.  Or later.  I’m so confused.  But don’t you be confused.  Just be here on time, count your blessings and stay well.  Can you do all that?  Multi-task! 

 

Michael

(Married with three wonderful children and eight beautiful grandchildren.  Have travelled extensively.  Love to read!)

 

Send comments (please no pictures or resumés) to:  mfox1746@gmail.com