Don't Say This

The other day I went to our local convenience store and couldn't find any Eskimo Pies, my favorite chocolate-covered ice cream bar I keep on hand for emergencies like Biden winning the election during a global pandemic. As you might imagine, I'm clean out. To my chagrin, I was told they no longer carry them because they are considered racist. 

Really, that's what the guy said, although his neck tattoo of Bugs Bunny with a clenched fist made me doubt he really knew what he was talking about. So I tried somewhere else and was told that the product had been discontinued because of the word Eskimo, and would return soon with the moniker "Edy's Pies." Turns out Eskimo is on the list of inappropriate and racially-charged words; now you have to call those people "Inuits." So why not "Inuit Pies?" Just asking.

Clearly this whole minorities-getting-offended thing is out of control. In fact, you can't even say "minority" anymore; now it's "majority-minority" because "minority" sounds like they are "minor," and Lord knows they are anything but these days. In fact, they make all the rules. 

It's making me crazy. I just wish I could write a book about it but it would never get published. I do have the opening paragraph, however:

"The midget gypsy -- they called him Shorty -- worked on a plantation owned by a family of fat Caucasians who only hired minorities. Being crippled, not to mention retarded, it was hard for him to get much done, so he asked his friend, a homosexual Eskimo, to help. The problem was that he was hearing impaired, so often missed much of what Shorty said. That's when he turned to his Indian friend, a colored tranny with a big dick and giant boobs, for assistance."

Not sure how it will ever get published, but it should be amusing to write.

  

I Miss Trump

Well, Grampa Biden has been the President for ten days and the pandemic rages on. If anything it's worsening by spawning new variants. I'm a little disappointed in Gramps, to be honest. But then, Obama, his mentor and master, promised to close Gitmo, the prisoner of war detention camp at Guantanamo Bay, on Day One of his presidency, and that was in 2008 and it's still open, with 40 detainees rotting there indefinitely.

As for getting out those vaccines to the people, well, as Tom Wolfe would say, "Fuggedaboutit!" Here in Maine it's for people 80 and older. Who knew there were so many of them living here? Of course you can't blame them; it's safe, no crime, no traffic, nobody walking behind you at night with a crowbar or baseball bat ready to club you to death for 20 bucks. (Just reminiscing about my 30 years in Washington, DC.)

I am 74, so no vaccine for me. My sister, who is 79 and crazy and living in a nursing home in NY got both her shots weeks ago. She suggests that I should just say I am 80 and get the shot. I told her it doesn't work that way, and besides I would rather die of Covid than have anyone believe I am 80.

As for my husband, a mere teen at 63, and my son, a veritable toddler at 33, the vaccine is a distant bauble they might grab sometime this summer. Until then, we are all wearing three masks, staying home and slowly, ever so slowly, losing our minds. At least when Trump was around there was always good TV, not to mention a daily thumbs-up to raise our sinking spirits. 

Biden Derangement Syndrome

Who is pulling the strings?

As if I didn't already have enough things wrong with me, like high blood pressure, diverticulitis, heart disease and an extra ten pounds, now there's another debilitating condition and this one's the worst: Biden Derangement Syndrome (BDS). Except for the ten pounds my conditions come and go, but BDS is a constant irritant, slowly morphing into a full-blown distraction that will obliterate every chance of normal behavior, not to mention peace of mind, if I let it.

Finally I understand how all those people with Trump Derangement Syndrome feel. (Poor Nancy Pelosi, she is the poster child for TDS.) Markers for the disease are the firm belief the election was rigged, that Biden is a brain-addled puppet of the Machine, and that his agenda is to not only to placate China but also turn America into China, complete with its broad censorship, constant surveillance of the populous, and the ruination of anyone who dares to dissent.

Unless we are vigilant, victims of BDS are in a world of hurt since Biden's ugly mug is everywhere, causing alternating waves of nausea and horror. (For the first time I'm grateful for coronavirus because half of his pasty-white face is often covered with a mask.) Following are some steps you can take to keep most of the symptoms -- depression, sadness, shock, disbelief, anger, sobbing alternating with wild laughter -- under control:

1. Never turn on the TV.

2. Don't look at any newspapers or the Internet.

3. Do not engage in political conversations.

4. Stay in bed, preferably under the covers.

5. Learn Chinese. 

Doing Our Part for Diversity

Two articles caught my attention in today's Wall Street Journal. One reported the appointment of the first black female CEO of a Forbes 500 company. Walgreens, the country's largest drugstore chain, found the woman through a search run by an outside firm. The current CEO was quite excited to make a newsworthy statement about how diversity is the most important thing in this "current climate of systemic racism." (What he didn't say but was probably thinking was please don't loot our stores and all black people should shop at Walgreen's.)

The second article reported that the San Francisco school board, by a vote of 6 to 1, will remove the names George Washington, Abraham Lincoln and Dianne Feinstein from public schools after deeming them "unworthy of the honor." Forty-four schools are slated for new names "unconnected to slavery, oppression or racism."

I realized that this was the only instance in which George Washington, Abraham Lincoln and Sen. Dianne Feinstein would be seen as equals. I also thought of all the other things that would have to go: The George Washington Bridge, the Lincoln Tunnel and Lincoln Center in New York City, every town and city in America named either Washington (311) or Lincoln (205), the city of Washington, D.C. the state of Washington, the Washington Memorial, the newly-named Washington Football Team, Denzel Washington, the Lincoln Memorial and the Abraham Lincoln Bridge in Louisville, Kentucky.  

This all got me thinking that never in 34 years of marriage have my husband and I hired a black person. We are guilty of systemic racism! So our next pet-sitter will have to be black. (It'll be tough breaking the news to Mary, the white woman we've hired for the last five years who our cat has finally bonded with, but hey -- time marches on.) Ditto every window-washer, house painter, plow guy (or gal), landscaper and cleaning person, who until now have all been white. It's gonna be tough accomplishing this in Maine where the black population is only 2.23%, but it's the least we can do. That, and shop at Walgreen's from now on.

Film Review: ADRIFT

The doomed lovers at sea.

What do you do when it's snowing outside, there's a pandemic going on, you're sick with a cold and you just bought a new 65-inch TV? Clearly, you settle in for some big-screen viewing. Since I was alone I got to choose anything, and the more distracting the better. This led me to Adrift, a 2018 romance/adventure based on a true story and resulting book. It stars Shailene Woodley and Sam Claflin as young lovers Tami and Richard who endure a harrowing experience in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

Hired to sail a luxury yacht from Tahiti to San Diego for a fee of $10,000 and airfare home to wherever, the couple see it as a grand adventure. Until, of course, the hurricane hits, which explains the title of the film. Adrift opens after the disaster has hit and jumps back and forth between the postcard meeting and courtship of the pair five months earlier and the horrible post-storm reality: Richard is gone, having been swept overboard, and Tami is alone, drifting at sea for 41 days, living on peanut butter, hallucinating that Richard is alive, and blah-blah-blah. Despite it being a true story and at its heart quite an exciting tale, the film's telling of it is somehow fairly predictable and, dare I say, boring. 

What's not boring is the storm, which is quite impressive and reaffirms Hollywood's uncanny ability to transport us from our humdrum lives to wholly other worlds. Watching Adrift in my cosy heated house, I was thankful I only had a cold, that it was only snowing a little and that I still don't have Covid. So in one sense, it was a great therapy session. If you're seeking a way to feel better about your own life, this film does it. Otherwise, I'd suggest searching for "The Making of The Impossible" on YouTube. It's much more fun and explains how the magic happens.

Staying Calm the Millennial Way

Covid has made everyone a little jumpy, we can all agree. It takes nerves of steel not to collapse like a heap of Jello and sob. Can anything help? That depends.

In case you have ever wondered just how stupid some people are, here's a bit of evidence: Back in November 2019, a cell phone app called Calm boasted 2 million paid subscribers with a median age of 30-35. But then along came Covid, and since then their numbers have grown substantially. For example, in April of 2020, 3.9 million new users downloaded the app.

What exactly is Calm and how can it help you relax? I tried it once and all it did was make me laugh. But I can't describe it better than my dear cousin Brian, who posted the following on Facebook:

"There’s an app called Calm. If I’m all crazy with myself, I pick up my phone, try to remember my password and stare at a stupid screen while listening to sound effects, for $14.99 a month. Or I could go outside and look at a real tree and hear real sounds for free." 

He makes a great point. It's like paying Jenny Craig, or any of those diet gurus, to lose your own weight by eating frozen food they send in the mail and which tastes like army rations during wartime. In layman's terms, it's called "a rip-off."

If you're still interested in trying the app, Brian's got an idea that might prove its efficacy: "Go find the CEO of Calm and egg his car - see how calm Calm makes him then."

Life is Too Short for Politics

This morning I woke up with a cold. Or is it more? I can't tell. One thing I know for sure is that my health is not impacted by any politician promising me anything. Joe Biden said he would "knock out Covid!" Well guess what: he hasn't. In fact, cases have steadily risen since he took the oath of office. Come on, man -- what are you waiting for?

Since Biden was sworn in, three of my friends got Covid. Until then I didn't know anyone personally with the disease. Now it's gone from something "out there" to something "right here." It also reinforces the truth that death lurks everywhere, peering over our shoulders, getting all of us eventually, and nobody is exempt. (Covid doesn't care who you voted for.)

Stop arguing about Donald Trump and Nancy Pelosi. It's meaningless. Instead, have a nice day and be kind to someone.

Stuck On Trump

Trump is gone. Get over it. I suggest the mainstream media and everyday Americans try to find something else to talk about, write about and obsess over. Isn't there anyone in the Democratic Party that is the least bit interesting besides Bernie Sanders and his mittens?

Fat vs. FOX

My husband's really, really, really fat nephew, at least 300 pounds, who obviously hates himself which is why he is so fat and thus has looked about for a scapegoat and landed on all things Republican, is now calling for an end to FOX News, which he likens to Jospeh Goebbels, the Nazi propaganda minister. His equally fat, if not a tad fatter, brother agrees, I suppose during one of their eating sessions when they roll around ingesting pizza and cookies and chips and ice cream; after all, getting that fat takes effort.

FOX News is no more slanted than any and every news outlet, in fact if anything it is less so. CNN is the worst, with that smarmy Chris Cuomo smirkingly blaming everything on the Republicans, now that Trump is gone. PBS, NPR, MSNBC, ABC and all the rest are just ditto machines of the Democratic Party.

My husband forces me to watch all the networks every night. It is sickening to do so but that's the only way to get even an inkling of the truth about our government. Meanwhile the Fat Brothers only watch "their side," so have no idea what the heck is going on, yet they rant and rave on Facebook about how hateful FOX News must be taken down. I suspect if they each lost about 100 pounds they would become more charitable to the other half of the country that differs with them.

Pelosi Must Go

Deranged Nancy Pelosi wields her gavel.

The more I thought about the message I got from an old friend saying I must be "in a dark place" and she "felt sad" for me, all because I stated my dislike of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris, the angrier I got. Janice (the old friend) is a perfect example of why America is split in half. Thankfully, not all Democrats are like her. My four closest friends and my son are all Democrats. They do not pity me, or consider me to be a fucked up idiot. They simply accept that we don't agree on some issues. 

But Janice, and probably her husband Larry too, consider it a travesty -- horrible, even unthinkable, to be a Republican, or even an Independent, which is how I am registered.  Their faulty thinking, created wholly by the masterminds over at CNN, MSNBC and Nancy Pelosi, continues to fan the flames of war between the two parties and split our nation in two. 

Pelosi ripping up Trump's State of the Union speech on national TV, while he was giving the speech, set the tone for the crazies in her party to come out swinging. Pelosi must go if things are to ever improve.

The Haughty Democrats

I recently received a comment on my blog from a former friend asking, after reading a post expressing my dislike of Biden and Harris, "How did you end up in such a dark place? I feel sad for you." 

That smirking, self-righteous attitude of so many Democrats, embodied by Kamala Harris, makes me sick to my stomach every day, and is why I can no longer watch TV or read the news. Their conviction that to be a Republican is "to be in a dark place" permeates all of them, including our newly elected president who has yet to display the slightest shred of his stated intention to unite the country.

Not to mention the fact that if my old friend really felt sad for me, she would call or write to see how I'm doing and not just leave a nasty barb online. Hey, maybe I am in a dark place! Maybe I was diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer and have just months to live. Maybe my heart attack left a lot of damage. Maybe my son is sick, maybe my sister died, maybe I have Covid. Or maybe I just have a different opinion than hers.