Western nincompoopery

Eskimo pie is out of the igloo. Now it’s Edy’s pie, which doesn’t offer the chill, refreshing associations of Eskimos on a sweltering summer day, does it? And there’s Aunt Jemima. Wave goodbye to her too. Quaker has yet to debut her new name, but it’s not long in coming, we’re told.

Oh, the horror of this image! Send kids out of the room.

Ages ago, Aunt Jemima sported a head cloth, something similar to what Willie wore during my childhood. Willie was my grandmother’s maid of many decades. Quaker gussied up Jemima’s appearance years ago, losing the headgear and making her a younger woman with a smiling face. Good grief! A young, black woman in a good mood.

Horrid and racist!

Uncle Ben’s rice is also gone. Now it’s gonna be Ben’s Original because, I guess, being an Uncle is horrid and racist! That switch took place just a few weeks ago. Mrs. Butterworth’s is changing completely, not just the name but the bottle shape, which is that of a matronly woman who abandoned her gym routine long ago.

Stay tuned for Mrs. Butterworth’s new look.

What does all this nonsense have in common? Political correctness. And which end of the political chasm embraces political correctness? The left side, of course. And which political party would that be? (Insert mental image.)

The West now lives in a world with insufficient real problems, so stupid ones are being embraced and “solved.” But wait! There are real problems. Consider China.

And George Soros.

How far we’ve fallen

covid

THE MORE THIS Kung Flu hysteria drags on, the nuttier it shows itself to be.

But the lunacy has roots far from China.

Western Civilization started coming unraveled a few decades back. It began with the Hippie phenomenon in the 1960s, but it really kicked into gear with the birth of political correctness in the 1980s and its ensuing growth rate which looks a lot like pancreatic cancer’s.

I blame Karl Marx. And ignorance.

It’s difficult to see light between PC and leftism because they are so closely connected. It’s like trying to see light between Vice President Mike Pence and his wife, Karen. Or between Michael Moore and a double-patty cheeseburger with curly fries.

Those of us of advanced age are fortunate. We’re probably going to check out before the entire shebang falls on our heads. And the Visigoths storm the gates. That is my hope.

The new normal?

masks
Posing on the scarlet sofa. It is scarlet. Trust me.

WELCOME TO our living room in the Plague Year.

So, okay, we’re just having a bit of fun. We don’t wear masks inside the house … or outside either. These tissue ones I bought in a 10-pack for 20 pesos two weeks ago are next to useless. However, I have a couple of good ones en route from above the border that I purchased on Amazon, apparently just in time because now they’re unavailable.

Amazon tells me they will arrive here between May 14 and June 11, which means we can use them for the next pandemic, not this one. And there will be another because the Chinese Commies are intent on world domination by hook, crook or virus.

Note my new buzz cut, a more convenient hairdo in these troubled times. Something you cannot see is that I quit shaving about a week ago. If I keep it up, I’ll resemble a svelte Santa before this is all over. But I will not bear gifts.

My child bride did something wacko with her hair this morning. That’s a housecleaning hairstyle. She would never hit the streets looking like that, I promise.

We’ll be dining in a restaurant this afternoon, so our quarantine is half-assed.

Our interesting times

May you live in interesting times.

— ancient Chinese curse

CITY HALL here on the mountaintop yesterday reported the first Kung Flu case in our quaint Colonial town, news I could have lived long without, perhaps literally.

So we have pivoted, the two of us.

Till today we had reduced our gadding about, but every afternoon, simply to get out of the house, we had gone downtown with a Thermos of café, which we filled at home, to sit a spell in the open air of the coffee shop on the sidewalk abutting the plaza.

People-watching and reading.

Well, that’s off the table, so to speak. We’re staying home.

There will be exceptions. For instance, early this morning, we drove down the mountainside to the nearby capital city to shop at Costco and Chedraui. We got there just after they opened. There were few shoppers, which was the idea.

We’ll make that jaunt every Monday.

We purchased enough vittles at the two stores to last a week since we have now eliminated restaurants from our lifestyle.

Days will consist of some light exercise on our gym set at home, plus the daily walk around the neighborhood plaza. One must keep the blood circulating.

Mexico has relatively few Kung Flu sightings, 2,143 cases and 94 fatalities as I write this, but it will worsen, of course. Government action has been somewhat spotty so far, and our demagogic, airheaded president is setting a horrible example by continuing his hugs and kisses to one and all, including relatives of a famous narco capo.

The uneducated, not surprisingly, love him, especially since he gifts money, á la Bernie Sanders, but there are even a significant number of otherwise well-educated Mexicans who also embrace him, literally if possible. Astounding.

The good news is that his popularity is slipping.

I think we have an old backgammon board in a cabinet downstairs, and we need to wash windows and do other chores that we’ve been putting off. And there is also the internet, Kindles and Netflix. Life plods on.

About that Chinese quote at the top. It’s those damn Chinamen who got us into this Kung Flu mess in the first place. Ah, the irony.

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We’ll be sitting out here more often. Come join us, but sit over thataway.