Gwyneth Paltrow Is Just Too Much

It's not baseball anymore -- America's favorite pastime now is schadenfreude. This sorry state of affairs stems from the average American's love of a failure, making their own more palatable. If you're fat, ugly, missing a limb or two, have a brain disorder and are dead broke, the masses will sing your praises and protest on your behalf, especially if you're neither straight nor white. But forget about it if you're thin, beautiful, smart and rich; then you suck.

This is the situation actress Gwyneth Paltrow finds herself in. The daughter of an elite Hollywood couple, she has won an Oscar, an Emmy and a Golden Globe for her outstanding work in several theatrical productions. She's a successful businesswoman too, and has raised two children who are neither drug addicts nor alcoholics. Thus she is hated, reviled, insulted and trashed online by the twisted public who envies her for all those things.

Currently in the news because of a ski accident seven years ago for which she is now being sued, as if the guy suing had no idea that the sport might be dangerous, the carping denizens of the Internet are all hoping Gwyneth will lose the case, even though any sane person can see that after seven years have passed, anyone suing is just looking for free money. 

The comments posted about Gwyneth online are despicable, childish, and dripping with jealousy. And I'm not even a fan of hers! It's just so scary seeing the evil in the hearts of everyday people.

Another Scientific Achievement

• Just in time for Easter, you can poison your little ones, or yourself, with Pepsi's latest flavor! A mind-bending blend of totally non-nutritional cola and marshmallows. Brimming with Carbonated Water, Sugar, Artificial color (Caramel E150d), Acid (Phosphoric Acid), Flavorings (including caffeine), Acesulfame K and Sucralose (sweeteners), it's good for absolutely nothing!

260 calories in a 20-ounce can.

Trans-Republican Guilt

I never knew that using a plastic straw in my kitchen in Maine was killing dolphins somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean until my very woke ex-friend Mary shrieked in horror when I offered her one. (A straw, not a dolphin.) Similarly, I'm in shock since learning that yesterday's deadly shooting in a Nashville elementary school  was partly my fault. 

It seems, according to most of the talking and writing heads we call "media" in this country, that those damn Republicans have refused to ban enough guns to prevent people from shooting them at strangers. Since I identify as a Republican, and who could blame me what with Joe Biden and Kamala Harris at the top of the Democratic Party, I guess I'm partly to blame, even though I don't own a gun, have never even held a gun, and don't believe in war.

Also, since the shooter was gender-confused, a.k.a transgender, he/she supposedly felt disenfranchised! He/she wasn't made to feel loved and accepted by society as a whole, inciting her/him to legally purchase seven guns and carry out an elaborate plan to annihilate children. Since I am a member of society I'm partly guilty, especially since I don't buy the whole pronoun thing, reject outright the use of "they" when referring to just one person, and still believe that men cannot give birth and women don't have penises.

So, I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone.

How TikTok Threatens Our Security

Have you wondered, like I have, why everyone is so concerned that TikTok exposes its users to Chinese spyware? Well, relax; have you seen what's on TikTok? China will learn the following information:

1. Many Americans have very little to do so they make videos of anything they have lying around their house, mostly their dogs, cats and babies. Hundreds and hundreds of videos are exactly like hundreds and hundreds of others in this regard. The information gleaned from them will empower China to take over our country since they will have undeniable proof that our population is comprised of slackers and dullards lacking imagination.

2. Many Americans cannot sing or dance well at all but still they make videos of themselves doing so anyway. This is further proof that in a war, China would win because Americans are clumsy egomaniacs bent on self-destruction.

3. Many Americans are just plain moronic, producing long, complicated videos with no purpose other than to keep people watching them and thus increase their views, which for some reason makes them feel proud. It might be making a 7-layer cake out of wire mesh, raw cookie dough, dry ice, Skittles and Cool Whip, then telling you to, "Just wait, just wait, wait until you see how it turns out, just wait, we're almost there, wait." The number of people who wait makes it clear that should China ever wage war on us, they deserve to win. In fact, I want to be Chinese.

March Mega Madness

I know very little about professional sports. Of course I know how games are played, but not about how individuals obsessed with a particular sport have elevated it to insane heights that blot out the rest of life for a season. This is true for what is called "March Madness.

I used to think "March Madness" had something to do with Alice in Wonderland. Isn't there a character named the March Hare who went crazy? Or was that the Mad Hatter? (I read the book about 60 years ago so understandably I'm a bit blurry on the plot.) But it turns out it's about basketball.

A couple of weeks ago my husband suggested I "pick brackets to win money in an office pool." I had no idea his office even had a pool! But then he explained what that meant and showed me that all I had to do was choose a team from two that were playing against one another and keep doing that. So I did. It took about two minutes to randomly check a lot of little boxes. I never heard of the teams and I had no system. It was just whatever name struck me in some way. 

I am now in first place (out of 31) and stand to win $200. My husband, who knows a ton about sports and has played the brackets for most of his adulthood, thoughtfully contemplating his choices for several days, is in 20th place.

It really is madness after all.

Fear of Trump

The Democrats are petrified that Donald Trump will run for re-election in 2024 and win. It keeps them up nights. Behind closed doors, probably in the White House basement somewhere, a team of political and journalism experts hunker down, trying to figure out new ways to take him out of the game and put him behind bars. (Let's hope and pray they don't decide to just kill him like they did JFK.)

Their latest ploy is the fact that he paid money to his former mistress so she wouldn't divulge their romantic relationship SEVEN YEARS AGO. (This is certainly very important to the security of our nation.) If that falls apart, which it might since it turns out he didn't, they are now looking into possible tax fraud from his past.

Why don't the Democrats forget Trump and come up with a decent candidate of their own? And maybe a good platform that people will vote for? 

What Would Michelangelo Think?

“I’ve done hundreds of pieces over the years, and something that started out as a hobby and something that really combined two of my passions of food and art has really grown into something that I could see myself doing for the rest of my life,” said an "artist" named Harley Langberg to Al Roker on the Today show.

Shown below are two portraits by Langberg fashioned from food. It's not clear whether you hang them on the wall or put them in the freezer. Whatever, I don't want one.

Portrait of Al Roker: Cookie dough, mixed berries

Portrait of Jennifer Coolidge: Pasta, cookie dough, prosciutto

Mental Health at the White House

A couple of days ago, the cast of the TV sitcom Ted Lasso visited 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, ostensibly to discuss the importance of mental health. I wondered who, exactly, in the White House has rich wisdom to dispense on that complicated subject? Surely not Joe Biden, he's addle-brained. Was it Dr. Rachel Levine, the former pediatrician who transitioned from male to female in 2011, divorced his wife of 25 years two years later, and was appointed by our demented president to be the Assistant Secretary for Health, whatever that means? Could it have been VP Kamala Harris, who squeals and giggles over almost everything, especially yellow school buses that she just loves? Dr. Jill, a doctor because of her PhD in English? As for anyone in the cast of Ted Lasso, I assumed they had come seeking advice.

Compounding my confusion, the actors lined up behind White House Press Secretary Karine Jean-Pierre, a.k.a. Buckwheat from Our Gang (see photo), while she emceed the daily circus/press conference as legitimate reporters tried to ask serious questions about war, bank failures and the Chinese who are busy testing new missiles. In the middle of all that, another actor from the Lasso cast who plays a reporter in the series popped up and asked a question of leading man Jason Sudeikis, who suddenly was behind the microphone.

Was this a dream, I wondered? It was all so cringey that I ate two chocolate-chip cookies just to get through it, and they were not that good. (The cookies.) The next night when I watched Ted Lasso, my enjoyment was tainted with the memory as I half-expected Joe Biden or KJP to wander into a scene.

I wish politicians and entertainers would understand that what they do for a living, or at least what we all want them to do, are two different things. As for discussing mental health, if there had been a couple of shrinks in the bunch we all could have benefited from watching a televised group therapy session.

Too Much Eating (Makes You Fat)

According to current statistics, one in three Americans is obese. I'm not one of them and I don't want to be. 

Some mornings I wake up wanting waffles with syrup and bacon or maybe a cheese omelet with hash browns and a toasted English muffin with jelly for breakfast. I never have that though, because of several reasons.

I'd rather feel good. I'd rather my arteries remain unclogged and allow blood to flow through them freely. 

I'd rather go for long walks easily and climb stairs without running out of breath. I'd prefer to fit into normal-sized clothing available in most shops. 

I don't want fat ankles. Or diabetes. Or a heart attack. Or high blood pressure. Or sleep apnea. Or rolls of excess flesh on my body.

So instead I have a bowl of oatmeal with a side of blueberries and move on. After all, there's always lunch. And dinner.

And snacks.

Upping My DEI Quotient

Today I learned that UC Berkeley spends $25 million annually and employs a staff of 400 to ensure DEI (Diversity, Equity and Inclusion) on campus. That got me wondering two things: A, how can any parent send their child to that school knowing that and B, exactly what does someone working in the DEI Department do all day to earn their salary? 

I'm asking because things are simply not diverse enough around our house. For starters, my husband and I are both white and both Jewish. We do not employ anyone who is not white and Jewish! We don't employ anyone at all but still, there are only white Jews in our house, especially when my son visits. We also do not employ anyone who is any of the LGBTQ letters. We have friends and three relatives who are G but they are not on staff, plus they are also white Jews. Also, we have a cat only but no dog or other animal.

So how do we up our DEI numbers? I'm worried because I'm pretty sure that someday soon ordinary Americans will be arrested and jailed for not being diverse enough. After all, former president Donald Trump is about to be arrested for cheating on his wife and wanting to keep it quiet! (Like duh, who wouldn't?) Those folks at Berkeley must know what to do; maybe I'll give them a call. After all there are 400 of them, I can probably get someone on the phone. 

I know one thing for sure: If we hired a black maid our house would probably be burned to the ground. Good thing I don't like strangers hanging around.

Mike Pence Makes A Joke

One of the 1,000 annual train derailments in the U.S.

Pete Buttegieg exchanged marriage vows with his longtime boyfriend who is now his husband, and whose husband he is. The two husbands adopted twins and took two months maternity leave (which they call paternity leave), because the twins were born prematurely and had serious health issues, remaining in the hospital. 

In addition to being the current Secretary of Transportation, Pete is now also a parent. So we are all supposed to forgive that his leave coincided with total chaos in the transportation sector. After all, a sick baby trumps everything, right? No, not when there's another parent around and the highly trained nurses and doctors in the NICU were on-call 24/7. What could Pete add?

At the annual D.C. Gridiron Club dinner, a roast for politicians, Mike Pence targeted Buttigieg for taking leave "as “thousands of travelers were stranded in airports, the air traffic system shut down, and airplanes nearly collided on our runways.” Continuing, he delivered  his punchline: “Pete is the only person in human history to have a child and everyone else gets postpartum depression.”

So then Pete's husband, a nobody married to a somebody, demanded an apology from the former Vice President, a bigger somebody. Pete didn't even demand one! Mike Pence refused, pointing out that at a roast jokes are made at the expense of others,  including him, and he's not asking anyone for an apology.

Sorry, but marriage does not elevate a nobody to a somebody. Besides, the joke was pretty funny. 

How to Make Friends in Maine

Just now I saw a story online entitled "How to Make Friends as an Adult." I didn't click since I have enough friends already, and besides, they're not all they're cracked up to be. But it made me think of how one makes friends as an adult in Maine, which is a whole other ball of wax. So I offer this advice for anyone planning to move to "America's Vacationland," not necessarily in order of importance (except for the first one.)

1. Avoid being Jewish, or if you are, don't flaunt it. What is flaunting it? Having and sharing your innermost feelings, showing excitement about anything, owning and wearing real jewelry, dressing up for the theater, that sort of thing.

2. For men, being clean-shaven will greatly cut down your chances of anyone speaking to you. Also, try to wear flannel as much as possible, usually plaid. Always wear work boots or Bean boots. In fact, dressing from head to toe in garments from L.L. Bean's will allow others to feel comfortable around you. The same advice applies to women, except for the beard.

3. Use the word "wicked" as an adjective pertaining to the weather or any aches and pains you may have. It can be used either before or after the subject, as in "I've got a wicked shoulder pain" or "My shoulder hurts me something wicked." It can also mean something is good, like a wicked whoopie pie. (Learn about whoopie pies before you get here.)

4. Drive a truck (men) or a Volvo (women).

5. Always have two dogs, either Labs or Golden Retrievers. When one dies, replace it immediately.

6. Put a BLM sign on your lawn (even though Maine is the nation's whitest state).

7. Own a boat. Keep it in your driveway in winter under a tarp. It could be a sailboat or a kayak or a canoe or a motor boat, no matter. Just have a boat and talk about it often.

8. Ski constantly in winter.

9. Hike a lot on weekends.

10. Love lobster, eat a lot of lobster, have lobster bakes at your house, talk about lobster, eat at lobster shacks, know where to get the best lobster roll.

11. Mow your own lawn with one of those John Deere tractors. (Hiring a gardener is like hanging a neon sign out front that says, "I'm a Jew!")

12. Never give anyone a gift unless they're family.

Irish Theater, In Brief

"Top o' the morning to you!" 

That's all I got. I know very little else about the Irish in general or St. Patrick's Day in particular. This is odd since I have been to Ireland, where they drive on the opposite side of the road and eat something called "blood pudding" that tastes as bad as it sounds. I attribute my ignorance in this area to sleeping through history class in high school, so I asked my husband who is a history buff and graduated from an excellent college I could not have gotten into. His answers inspired the following one-act play.

Saint Patrick's Day

by Andrea Rouda

Me 

Tell me everything you know about St. Patrick's Day.

Mitch

All I know is that St. Patrick is the patron saint of Ireland, but I have no idea what that actually means.

Me 

You must know more, come on.

Mitch 

People are supposed to wear green, the official color of Ireland. It's an Irish affair.

Me 

That's it? Think, man!

Mitch 

They serve green beer in Irish bars. Some cities turn the nearby rivers  green, like Chicago, I think. Not sure how they do it.

Me 

So wearing green clothing and drinking green beer is how one properly celebrates the patron saint of Ireland?

Mitch 

Yes. And something about leprechauns. And shamrocks. 

Me

We're having corned beef and cabbage for dinner.

Mitch 

Don't forget the potatoes. You know, the famine....

-END-

Patching Holes in My Education

Who are they?

I do know a lot about a lot, but I also no absolutely nothing about a lot more. Even though I graduated from a decent college and have read many books by respectable authors, there are gaping holes in my knowledge. Like, for example, popular culture. I took the photo shown above off my computer because I was stunned by it. I never heard of any of the people mentioned, yet it's online like it's a big deal. Like it's something! Who are they and why are they important?

I know virtually nothing about popular sports. The other night my husband asked me if I wanted to "pick brackets," or something like that, "for march madness." It was like he was speaking Greek to me. Anyway, he made me pick them explaining that I might win money, somehow. It has to do with basketball. (I see why it's called "madness.")

Whoopi Goldberg had to apologize for using an ethnic slur on TV. She said the word "gypped," like when you "gyp" someone out of money you owe them. Apparently this comes from the word "gypsy," and gypsies are real people who come from a certain area in Europe. I wondered if the fact that I went as a gypsy every Halloween as a kid was racist. I still know nothing about gypsies; my mother put my costume together. It consisted of an off-the-shoulder peasant blouse, big gold hoop earrings, a long, flouncy skirt, a colorful bandana on my head and a lot of lipstick and rouge. I always thought they were pretty ladies.

This afternoon I shall read up on gypsies and March Madness, neither of which were covered in my four years at New York University. As for those people in the first paragraph, I doubt they really matter.

Aging: Everybody's Doing It!

A few weeks ago I read an article in the Wall Street Journal about the alarming and growing lack of people willing to care for ailing seniors who choose to stay at home rather than move to an assisted living facility or nursing home. Apparently taking care of old, sick people is not appealing -- imagine that!

Appealing or not, somebody's gotta do it. And guess what: The young people who scoff at the thought today will someday be old themselves, and then what? So these jobs are now being filled by retirees and others in their 60s and 70s who have the time and compassion required. 

Being a senior myself, albeit one who is physically active, mentally youthful and extremely empathetic, I figured if I don't take such a job, then who will? So I did, and God help me if I hate it. I start next week. And who knows, maybe this will wipe out all my prior sins and get me into Heaven. (Fingers crossed.)

Biology 101

Contrary to what a female law professor from UC Berkeley who was testifying on Capitol Hill last week told Senator Josh Hawley, a man cannot become pregnant and have a baby. The two clashed after the woman referred to "people with the capacity for pregnancy" during a hearing on the effects of the overturning of Roe v. Wade. 

The professor is obviously wrong on that point. Simple biology clarifies that even if a human born-as-female has her breasts surgically removed, takes hormones to grow a beard and chest hair and deepen her voice, declares that her pronouns are he/him and stomps around in construction boots, Wranglers and plaid flannel shirts, she's still not a guy. If that person then gets pregnant it's because she has functioning Fallopian tubes and a uterus, allowing the baby to grow inside its mother and exit out her vagina, and making the he/him wannabe the "mommy." (Someone please tell Supreme Court Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson.)

It's kind of scary that the professor involved is teaching college students, or any students, anything at all, most of all law.

Kamala's Next Job?

The Democrats are worried about Kamala Harris, and it shows. Senator Elizabeth Warren, a.k.a. The Fake Indian, was interviewed on a radio show and hinted at Harris being a drag on the Biden ticket in 2024. She's not alone: Many in the party have registered doubts about Harris as the VP nominee since she has done nothing but embarrass the party this time around.

But what to do? They can't just ask her to leave -- that would be racist! (In case you haven't noticed, Harris is a black woman although it's hard to tell from her skin color or facial features, especially when she's standing next to her white Jewish husband.)

If Harris cares about the country, she would graciously opt out. She must know she's in over her head. She also must know she's the butt of jokes and a topic of constant criticism in the media. Why doesn't she just get out of politics altogether? I think she'd be happier as a school bus driver, she just loves those yellow school buses. (Giggle, giggle.) Besides, many school districts are struggling to fill those positions, so Kamala would be doing some good for the country, finally!

Riding Ron's Coattails

Peggy Noonan, the 72-year-old columnist for the Wall Street Journal, has been around the block, that's for sure, but in my opinion, she's lost it. For quite some time her political meanderings have been lackadaisical, redundant or just plain boring. My husband likes to read her while we're soaking in the hot tub, but these past few weeks we've started and stopped after a couple of paragraphs. 

Clearly out of ideas, Peggy often devotes many of her column inches to nostalgic looks back at her illustrious  career and excerpts from books or speeches from others. Today Peggy aims to grab more readers with the title, "Ron DeSantis Is Definitely Running." (Duh, you think?) 

Lots of it concerns the governor's new book, "The Courage to Be Free." Peggy quotes from the book as well as from several recent speeches by DeSantis, snidely criticizing between the lines. She notes that when DeSantis is pictured signing bills, "Often he is surrounded, oddly, by grade-school children." Uh-oh, should we be worried? Is he odd with kids? (Well, he was signing the Parental Rights in Education Act.)

Peggy ends with two pieces of advice for the governor. First, he has to connect with the voters out on the campaign trail, something he probably never thought of himself.  Next, he has to share his thinking with the voters. You know, all those voters who couldn't care less and just press D for Democrat or R for Republican. After Ron digests those valuable bits of wisdom, maybe he can offer Peggy some advice concerning her career, since she could use some. Mine is simple: She should take the title of Ron's book to heart, be brave, and then hand in her resignation and free herself, and her readers! I'm sure there are many writers out there with fresh ideas who could help us deal with it.

What A Drag

Maebe A. Girl

At right, Maebe A. Girl, the first drag queen elected to public office in the US. She/he/they was elected to the neighborhood council in Silver Lake, California, a community located in the east-central region of Los Angeles, in 2019. 

Lately drag queens are showing up everywhere, including at elementary school story hours. Understandably, not everyone is happy about this, like Gov. DeSantis of Florida, whose administration has recently investigated certain establishments for hosting drag shows they claim are sexual in nature and not suitable for kids. 

Naturally, the woke LGBTQ community is angry at the thought that drag is anything but wholesome entertainment and simply another art form that children should be able to enjoy. This got me wondering: exactly what is "drag" and why do men want to dress up like prostitutes? The following is from an article in the Psychiatric Times, explaining a possible reason behind drag performances:

"Embodying a character can give us confidence. Known as the “Batman effect,” this self-distancing allows us to think about a situation more rationally. It can also help control feelings like anxiety, boost our perseverance during challenging situations, and increase our self-control. 

Drag is not all that different from the characters we all play throughout the day: spouse, employee, parent. We often create an image to present to the world, whether it is who we are, what we feel, or what we aspire to be. "

Seen below are some men confidently and rationally being their true selves:

Beware of Foul-Weather Friends

" WHEN trouble comes, your foul-weather friend knows you are good old reliable you, the one who will listen when no one else will, and they act like you're their only friend. Don't expect the same in return. When you've got a problem, they'll usually tell you not to bring them down."

I never had one of those until recently, so I was completely taken in and am now left out in the cold. (Not really, it's just an expression.)

We became friends when her marriage was on the rocks. She was over here often, complaining ad nauseam about the sick husband and the old, cranky mother who she wished would die already so she could get the huge inheritance. I heard about her two "selfish" daughters too, and how they weren't showing her any respect, thought only of themselves, and blah blah. (Coincidence?)

Finally she walked out of her marriage and moved into an apartment nearby. My husband and I helped her move her stuff, loaned her some furniture to fill the place out, and had her over to dinner frequently. Complaining, complaining, yada yada. But hey, divorce is hard, I know.

She moved again. We helped again. She was always free in the evenings so dinners here and there all the time. Phone calls were frequent, especially when she needed advice about her crumbling life, which was always.

Not long after leaving her cancer-ridden husband of 34 years, she met a new man. It was need at first sight -- he was divorced and lonely too -- and they started seeing one another constantly. Apparently it was true love, and we heard all the gory details and sappy texts. Finally we met the guy and hit it off, and were truly happy for them both. 

Now they're engaged and he moved in. The phone calls have stopped altogether. I literally can't remember the last time I saw her. But I do remember our last conversation about six or seven weeks ago when she called asking for favor. When I shared that I had Covid and was not feeling very well, she told me not to be a Debby Downer and just say I'm fine. (She's a nurse.)

So now we are no longer "friends." The only good part is that I got to throw out all the  handmade beaded necklaces she gave me over the years as "gifts," again and again and again, even though I never wore one once so you'd think she'd get the message. But no, she made those necklaces because it was fun for her and she never had to ponder what possible gift I might really like.

If you have two or three good friends who don't sound like the woman described above, cherish them. Fortunately I do, and I do.

How Can I Judge You? Let Me Count the Ways.

The most popular sport these days is not football or baseball or basketball, or even soccer. It's passing judgment. Everyone does it regardless of their qualifications or skill level, and they do it ad nauseam regarding any and every aspect of another person.

Here's an example. This afternoon a friend wanted to send me something so asked for my email address. When I told him, he laughed, then registered shock and awe that it was @AOL.com. "Not really," he said. "You don't still use AOL!" 

Spewing bullets is very popular.

I punched him a few times to knock some sense into him -- just a playful sock on his beefy bicep -- and asked, "What's the big deal?" He had no answer, he just shrugged and said it was so "old." Well guess what, so am I. And besides, I pointed out, you're still using UPS for your packages and the USPS for your snail mail, and they're even older. 

It's bad enough that we get judged on our appearance, our politics, our pets, our food choices (ask any vegetarian), where we live and how we earn a living, but now our meaningless email carrier signifies that we are nerds or dinosaurs, or nerdy dinosaurs.

I give up. I  can only meet the standards of a very few people whose opinions matter and I have narrowed that down to myself, my husband and my son. Sorry, all the rest of you. As Rhett Butler famously said, "Frankly .....  I don't give a damn."

Fat Is Big Business

"The global market for weight loss products and services should grow from $254.9 billion in 2021 to reach $377.3 billion by 2026, at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 8.2% during the forecast period of 2021-2026." 

So says a recent report from Research and Markets ("The World's Largest Research and Market Store"). Following are the most common places where overweight people spend their money, and each company's  annual revenue:

Weight Watchers International: $9 Billion

Jenny Craig, Inc.: $483 Million

Nutrisystem: $691 Million

Noom: $400 Million

The funniest part is that none of the above companies offer programs that help you keep the weight off, even if you do initially lose weight. So you try a different one which is why there are so many of them. 

Strangest of all is the fact that the process of losing weight is totally free and does not require input from any outside source. All you have to do is eat less food than your body needs to function, at which point it will draw on its own stored fat to keep going. Exercise speeds up the entire process.

Try it, it works! And you can start doing it today, right now in fact, and at no cost.

Lose Weight for World Peace

"The Family" by Fernando Botero

Today I read something shocking: According to the Harvard School of Public Health, by the year 2030 half of all Americans will be classified as obese, with a quarter of them considered to be severely obese. That's only seven years from now. The shocking part is that I thought they already were. If you take look around, it seems like more than half, especially if you're looking at Walt Disney World.

As someone who is mildly overweight -- about ten pounds if you ask me (although my loving husband says I'm fine the way I am, but he wears glasses), I can say with authority that it sucks. Clothes feel tight and uncomfortable, hiking is harder, exercising is downright daunting, and mindlessly consuming  empty calories like chips, cookies, cake, candy, ice cream, in search of comfort, satisfaction or to fill a void in one's life is unpleasant beyond words. This  explains why so very many people you meet are unpleasant beyond words. 

Imagine how nice things could be if people felt good about themselves instead of reeking of self-hatred and spewing poison at strangers online. Maybe then we could all get along.

A Huge Distraction

My husband and I are in the middle of a Netflix crime series entitled "Unbelievable." The first episode, about the rape of a young woman who nobody believes is telling the truth, was intriguing enough to warrant our watching Episode 2. It proved to be equally absorbing, except for one aspect: this time the young actress playing a different rape victim is enormously obese, all the way to the point of distraction. (See photo.)

I saw this same actress (Danielle Macdonald) in another movie where her weight was an issue for both her and the plot. That made perfect sense and was not a distraction. But in this production, one has a hard time believing that a man stalked her for weeks and then broke into her apartment, dressed her up in seductive lace lingerie, took pictures of her and then raped her for hours, and all the while she looks like a blimp from the Macy's Day Thanksgiving parade. Sorry, but she is really quite fat and it is really very distracting, made more so by the fact that it is never mentioned.

Rather than be alone in her own apartment the first night after the event, the victim goes to spend the night with a friend who turns out to be a black woman (just like the best friend of the first rape victim). Of course -- who else? Maybe another friend of hers will be in a wheelchair, or maybe autistic; we might meet her in Episode 4.

This diversity in Hollywood thing is abnormal, annoying and insulting. Yes, people come in all shapes and sizes, and yes, overweight women are also victims of rape. But to deliberately cast a morbidly obese actor in a role simply to meet the requirements of the liberal woke crowd was a poor decision this time.

You Can't Eat Sneakers

Today something got my attention and made me worry, even more than usual, about the future. It was an ad for a pair of Burberry sneakers currently selling at Saks Fifth Avenue for $759 a pair. (See photo)

Okay, they're cute, right? But let's be real: A family of four could eat for two, maybe two-and-a-half months with that money instead of having some rich asshole walking around in them, stepping into dogshit and whatever. Why would anyone want them? Why would anyone make them? And who is the target audience? 

The only thing worse is the pair shown above by the same manufacturer. These cost $950, so now maybe that family of four is eating for three months, making me wonder: Will people be eating shoes in the future?

How I'm Different from Joe Biden

Apparently my readers were interested in learning the ways I am unlike Merrick Garland in yesterday's post, which got a boatload of clicks, so I thought I'd up my game today and share how I am unlike Joe Biden, since our differences are even greater. 

First of all, I don't plagiarize. Instead, I share my own ideas. And when I do use another person's intellectual property, I acknowledge it, whereas Joe spouts someone else's words and thoughts as if they are his own.  

Joe thinks he's a cool cat!

I am much steadier on my feet. I never careen, wobble, waver, lumber, amble, shuffle, stumble, trip, teeter, totter, topple, fall down (or up) or lose my sense of direction.

I have all my own hair. No plugs, combovers or bald spots.

I speak clearly. No mumbling, muttering, stuttering or stammering when I speak in public, although I admit to muttering under my breath when surrounded by assholes.

I am hyper-empathetic. I cry for the people in East Palestine, Ohio who still live under a toxic cloud of cancer-causing chemicals and can't drink the local water, whereas Joe doesn't seem to give a hoot about them, ignoring their plight and instead flying to Ukraine to engage in a bromance with that country's president, a former comedian who I think is a manipulative user. 

I am not a racist, choosing to engage with people based on our common interests and similar backgrounds regardless of their ethnicity, whereas Joe is a total racist, considering the merits of people based almost exclusively on their skin color. Thus he appointed our dimwit VP because she is brown-skinned, and a Supreme Court Justice because she is black (but definitely not a biologist so she cannot define what a woman is), and a Press Secretary who is clueless but also black (and gay to boot, extra points). Biden's pick for head of the FAA, the person in charge of keeping all the planes in the air from crashing into one another, is a black man who, during his recent congressional confirmation hearing, could not answer one question put to him about flying or airplanes or airports, explaining that he is "not a pilot" and plans to "learn on the job." (Great, I hope he learns before my flight to Israel in May.) 

My son is not a total scumbag like Joe's son who uses dangerous drugs and engages in sketchy and downright illegal business deals with foreign actors. Instead he is a smart, fair-minded, creative, generous, high-minded teacher of children and adults who cares about the environment and works to improve it.

I have ridden on Amtrak maybe 15 times in my life whereas Joe, well, you know....

I am not a puppet, refusing to do the bidding of others and acting instead on my own beliefs and principles, while Joe, well, you know ......

I threw away my aviators years ago. I mean come on, man, this is 2023!

How I'm Different from Merrick Garland

I finally understand why I'm such a misfit and always have been: I never hop onto the right bandwagons. Like back in high school, I didn't have sex in the back seat of my boyfriend's jalopy, or anywhere for that matter. I didn't even have a boyfriend. (Not unless you count David O'Lenick who was a year behind me and I would love to see how he turned out, so if you know him and he's still alive, tell him to contact me.) 

In college, I never smoked pot and still managed to graduate NYU with a BFA. Years later, as a new mother, I used Pampers instead of going down to the ravine to pound my all-natural cotton diapers with rocks and laundry soap like our more environmentally-conscious neighbors. (Just kidding, but they acted that way even though they washed them in a washing machine.)

More recently, the Twitter bandwagon completely passed me by. I tried it one time and jumped right off, thinking it was an inane pastime. Who knew it would become so popular? Ditto the tattoo bandwagon, the piercing bandwagon, the stuffed-crust pizza bandwagon and the I Hate Trump bandwagon, none of which held any appeal.

But the biggest mistake I've made is completely missing the Taylor Swift bandwagon, which somehow never drove by my house. I have yet to see her perform or hear any of her music. I doubt I could pick her out of a lineup, especially since they choose people who look alike for those. What I do know is she's got blond hair and is usually holding a guitar. And this is a critical difference between me and our current Attorney General.

An article today's Wall Street Journal reports that Merrick Garland, that wizened coot who always looks like he's eaten a bowl of prunes and/or worms, is a ginormous fan of Taylor Swift! In fact, he's all the way to a "Swiftie," having been introduced to her music early on while he was driving his then-teenaged daughters to school each day. Now, in his current high government position, he often incorporates her lyrics into his emails to staff and even into official judicial decisions, only if they fit the situation of course.

Another way Merrick and I are different is his net worth is listed in Forbes as between $8.3 and 33 million, while mine is not even listed in Forbes and is considerably less. (It's a wonder he's such a sourpuss with all that dough.)

Maine's Race War

Mitch Rouda, second from left, tries to reason with a protester.

According to the organizations that spend time figuring this stuff out as if it actually matters, Maine is the whitest state in America. Shown below is the racial breakdown of our 1,372,559 inhabitants: 

• White: 93.68%
• Two or more races: 2.76%
• Black or African American: 1.39%
• Asian: 1.14%
• Native American: 0.66%
• Other race: 0.36%
• Native Hawaiian or Pacific Islander: 0.01

Naturally, with people of color being all the rage the days, white people must suck since they've gone around being white as if it's perfectly fine all these years, thereby making blacks feel inferior. What's even worse, they continue to be blatantly white, despite being told again and again that it is not okay to be white. Imagine that! 

I admit that I am white. I came that way and have stayed that way, despite all the tanning I did in my teen years. Honestly, right now I don't know how to fix it. Wearing blackface is considered racist, so not an option. Should I sneak outside and do my errands as quickly as possible, wearing a hoodie, sunglasses, a Covid mask and gloves to hide my skin color?

Two weeks ago there was a demonstration in Portland with white people -- hey that's what we got -- chanting, "Fuck white supremacy, Black Lives Matter!" I know because my husband and son, out for lunch downtown, stumbled upon the group assembled near the restaurant they chose. There were only about 40 people in attendance on both sides of the issue, one side represented by a man holding a banner that read, "IT'S OKAY TO BE WHITE" and the other opposed to that sentiment. Caught on video was a white lady approaching the man with the banner and calling him "an asshole." (She said this despite being white herself and not even trying to cover herself up, so who's the asshole?)

Scratching my head, I'm not sure what to do. I remain white. And to tell you the truth, I like being white. Of course it's all I've ever known so who knows, I might really love being a Pacific Islander and god knows we need more of them. (See chart above.) Anyway, am I a racist by remaining white? 

If so, everyone else in Maine is too, except for the black and brown illegal aliens or immigrants seeking asylum or whatever you call them who are here living in hotels and getting free stuff  -- food, lodging, clothing, money -- from all the white racists.

Jumping to Conclusions

Two years ago, as I was installing a Susan Collins sign on my lawn, a neighbor driving by stopped his car, rolled down his window and said, "Oh, so you're a Trumpie! I had no idea!" I responded that I was in favor of Senator Susan Collins, up for re-election at the time, which was completely unrelated to Donald Trump. The neighbor, a wealthy lawyer of considerable intelligence, hasn't spoken to me since.

Recently I posted a comment online saying I like and respect Nikki Haley. Immediately someone claiming to be a retiree with time on his hands who "smokes a lot of herb" wrote that I was clearly "a right-wing lunatic." A lunatic? For liking Nikki Haley? 

Then there's my ex-friend Mary, a Democrat who follows the letter of the law as spoken by Anderson Cooper on CNN, who literally freaked out when I offered her a plastic straw for her iced tea one afternoon when she was visiting. She was quite rattled, virtually screaming, "Andrea, I'm surprised at you! Don't you care about the environment?"

Jumping to conclusions, usually the wrong ones, is a popular sport these days. It must be so exhausting.