Blog #480                                May 21, 2026

 

Tell me, why is everything so complicated?  Even a glass of water is complicated nowadays.  It comes from the refrigerator door now with bubbles or no bubbles, crushed ice or cubed ice, lime flavor or orange flavor, chilled or room temp.  Even plain old eggs are now organic, cage-free, hormone free, antibiotic free, non-GMO,  free range eggs.  Seriously?  And don’t get me started about coffee.  I was at Starbucks and the lady in front of me ordered the following:

 

A Double Ristretto Venti Half-Soy Nonfat Decaf Organic Chocolate Brownie Iced Vanilla Double-Shot Gingerbread Frappuccino with Foam Whipped Cream Upside Down Double Blended, One Sweet'N Low and One NutraSweet, and Ice.

 

That is an actual thing available at Starbucks.  I looked it up.  But what confuses me is this:  once you’ve ordered the chocolate brownie iced vanilla with whipped cream, does adding the Sweet’N Low make you feel like Oprah would be proud of you?

 

Did you know that Florida resident William L. once ordered a 101-espresso-shot latte at his local Starbucks that cost $83.75 and came with 17 pumps of vanilla syrup, mocha and green tea matcha powder served with steamed milk?  Each year, Starbucks gives their employees sensitivity training.  Man, if I had to deal with people that wired on caffeine and sugar, I wouldn’t want sensitivity training.  I’d want a flame-thrower. 

 

Hi there and welcome back.  Summer is coming and I hope you’re feeling well and keeping busy.  It’s at this time in my blog every week that I begin to feel anxious about what I’m going to write about.  But I decided not to worry.  Worry is like a rocking chair – it’s something to do, but it doesn’t get you anywhere.  Besides, I’ve come to feel confident that some bizarre concoction of insanity and foolishness will pop out of my strange head if I squeeze hard enough – or drink a Starbuck’s.  Let’s see what’s hiding up there.  How about Presidential assassinations?  That should cheer us all up.

 

In 1975 Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme pulled a gun on President Gerald Ford and pulled the trigger.  The six-shooter she held had four bullets, but the chamber she shot was empty.  Otherwise, she would likely have killed the President.  She is now 77, free and living in New York.  In 1981 John Hinckley fired four rounds into the Presidential limousine, hitting President Ronald Reagan in the chest and wounding three others.  He is 70, also free and living with his mother.

 

Pardon my complete ignorance, but isn’t shooting the President a bad thing?  I thought it was.  Then why are Fromm and Hinckley running around free?  Of course!  I get it now -- Ford and Reagan were Republicans and in Washington, shooting a Republican isn’t considered such a terrible crime.  Hell, everybody’s doing it now!  Nobody shot at Johnson, Carter, Clinton, Obama or Biden.  And the guys who tried to shoot Trump will probably be pardoned by the next Democratic president.  You’ll notice that the guy who shot a Democratic president (Kennedy) was dead two days later.

 

I’m getting old.  No, I know you’re not and Carol surely isn’t, but I am.  And that means my grandchildren are growing up.  The 5^th oldest of my eight grandchildren just graduated high school this week Summa Cum Laude.  That means there are only a few proms in the future.  Of all the members of the family, the one most obsessed with the Prom experience is Carol.  When our oldest, Zachary, was prom age, my imperious wife urged and cajoled him for months about asking someone to the Prom by telling him how happy he would make the girl’s mother.  I’m trying to remember if, when I asked Carol to our High School Prom, I was thinking of her mother.  Let’s move on.

 

Luckily for Grandma Busy-Body, the Prom was the weekend we were in North Carolina, and Carol was peppering Zach for days with tips and suggestions about how to behave.  He was very receptive to all the suggestions except the one about the step-stool.  You see, Zach drives a pickup truck.  Everyone in North Carolina has a pickup truck, and his is a big one.  It is so tall off the ground that I cannot get into the thing without a Sherpa.  Hence, the step-stool, so the girl won’t have to pole vault into the truck with her high heels and tight dress.  I mean, how happy would the girl’s mother be if the girl broke her leg before dinner?  It’s all about the mother.  Anyway, he rejected the idea, so Carol enlisted Zach’s twelve-year-old sister to do a dry run.  She put on some of her mother’s heels and gave it a try.  She made it.  It wasn’t elegant, but it worked.

 

Our Weekly Word is imperious, which means fond of ordering people around.  Sound familiar?

 

Now here I am with nothing else to do today.  Bummer!

 

Whether you’re in the shade or the sun

Having nothing to do is not fun

Besides which, it’s true

When you’ve nothing to do

You never can tell when you’re done.

 

I’ve got it!  A terrific new business idea!  I’m not kidding here, so listen up.  Have you ever had a cat that became unruly or incontinent?  You don’t want to put poor old Fluffy down, but what choice do you have?  What we need is an old folk’s home for cats.  Don’t laugh – yet!  For $99 a month we will board your cat, feed him his favorite food, and let him tinkle anywhere he damn pleases.  You can visit him and play with him.  You can even Facetime him.  We’ll have a vet on call and a cemetery out back (a nice plaque is extra).  We’ll call it Feline Gardens or Meow and Later or Tom & Geriatric or something.  Think about it.

 

Message from Shakespeare, the three-legged cat: "Oh, that way madness lies; let me shun that (King Lear).  I know the old man goes looney sometimes, but that’s the craziest idea he’s had yet.  I am not going to any old-cat’s home, and that’s that!  Says the cat!  Purr.  And who the hell is Fluffy?

 

Ok, another week.  Seven damn days closer to the future.  Well, one good thing the future has – next week’s blog.  Don’t miss it.  Stay well and count your blessings.

 

Michael                                    Send comments to mfox1746@gmail.com