Thursday, May 6, 2021

Immigration and...Wong’s Tacos

Every time Cinco de Mayo rolls around I get all sentimental about immigration, a subject that seldom provokes sentimentality any other time of the year. Most of the time I prefer not to think very much about immigration at all. It’s been a mess for years, yet another touchstone of raging argument in my embattled and contentious country. One of the reasons I don’t spend a lot of time on the subject is because my thinking is all over the map, and I generally don’t enjoy the angst of inconsistent ideas. I mean, I’ve got enough problems trying to remember where I left the car keys, let alone trying to figure out immigration policy.

The basic tension revolves around the word illegal. Where once it seemed perfectly understandable and defensible to prefer legal over illegal immigration, now even using the word illegal suggests malice and earns you condescending lectures from the woke crowd. No human being is illegal, they scream! Like I said...its a mess.

But then Cinco de Mayo comes. My wife has this thing about celebrating with food. Every St. Patrick’s Day its green stuff with soda bread, cabbage and corn beef. She loves themed meals. So naturally, last night she was all in on homemade tacos with some new recipe she had found. She gave me marinated chicken to cook on the grill along with corn on the cob which she transformed into this super yummy Mexican street corn dish. Then there was this special cheesy/spicy sauce she had made from scratch to season everything with. For drinks she served up lime margaritas—with or without alcohol. My sister Paula came over for dinner. It was fabulous.

Then I started thinking about what an amazing place America is. Here we all are in this giant place where literally nobody is from here. Even the so-called Native Americans aren’t from here, if the Anthropologists are to be believed. They stumbled across an ice bridge from like Mongolia or someplace thousands of years ago. As for everyone else? We are all from away, as my friends in Maine would say. My wife’s people came here from Ireland by way of Nova Scotia. My family’s story is a bit more complicated. It’s all a bit murky, but depending on which family historian you talk to we got here from either England, Ireland, or Germany. The more fabulous versions of the tale have my mother’s ancestors arriving via the Mayflower!! But, you get the point, everyone here today arrived on a boat.

For all of our history, the majority of those who have settled here have been from some sort of European extraction, although that majority status is less than it used to be. Still, from the beginning, we have always welcomed people from all over the world. When I say “welcomed” I’m not trying to suggest that we stood at the dock cheering. Far from it...we have welcomed immigrants grudgingly, largely because that is the way of human beings. We are always wary of “outsiders”, even if we ourselves were outsiders ten minutes ago. In the previous century, Irishmen and Italians took turns being the dreaded other. Now, its Mexicans, Hondurans and Guatemalans.
 
But here’s the thing...I think we are such a better country because of the Irish, Italians, Germans, Chinese, Koreans, Mexicans, etc who have chosen to make this country their home. Just think about all the delicious foods they brought here, not to mention the art, color, athleticism and brain power. Now, thanks to fusion cuisine, our favorite restaurant is a place called...get this...Wong’s Tacos. To me there is nothing more American than a joint called Wong’s Tacos! How awesome is that?

Yes, I know, it’s not as simple as this. Assimilation isn’t easy. Multiple languages, unskilled labor are all significant problems. But, looking at the big picture of our history, immigration has been a net plus...and it’s not even close.

Wednesday, May 5, 2021

The Gates Divorce

Yesterday the news broke that Bill and Melinda Gates were filing for divorce after 27 years of marriage. All of my news feeds were awash in photographs of the couple in happier times. I must admit that before yesterday I couldn’t have picked Mrs. Gates out of a police lineup. After being introduced to her by hundreds of photographs I can’t get her face out of my head along with the nagging suspicion that she might be somehow related to Caitlin Jenner. 



Be that as it may, the Gates divorce, on the heels of the 38 billion dollar Jeff Bezos settlement serves as further proof that money does in fact not buy happiness, not to mention the fact that two of the smartest men in the world sure could have used a pre-nup.

Of course, its easy to pile on the rich and famous when their personal lives start to unravel, especially here in America where we are so celebrity-obsessed. Sometimes the piling on can go too far as we forget that Bill and Melinda Gates are  human beings just like the rest of us. Human beings, whose money if stacked in $100 dollar bills would stretch 8,800 miles into space. Nevertheless, I intend to comply with their request to honor their privacy during this difficult time in exactly the same way that Microsoft applications honor my privacy on a daily basis.

Last night my son and I did something that was inevitable given the fact that he is my son and I am his father. I started it with this simple observation:

Me: Without Bill...Melinda will be just an...ionaire.

It didn’t take Patrick long to respond...

Patrick: Bill and Melinda are splitting up because Bill realized that marriage is a ....union

Then, we were off and running!

Me: Yeah, apparently Bill and Melinda couldn’t excel together so, bamm, the BSoD (blue screen of divorce)

Patrick:  

I hear they didn’t have enough nice...Words...for each other anymore, and reclaiming their separate identity was a PowerPoint

Me: Melinda wasn’t happy with Bill being at the Office365 days a year either.

Patrick: MacKenzie Scott settles her divorce with Jeff Bezos for 38 billion. Melinda Gates says,”Hold my beer.”

Me: Seeing Bill and Melinda Gates not excel at their marriage has me like “Word?” Here’s hoping their future has a better...Outlook.

But that’s it. No more piling on. I wish them both the best.

Sunday, May 2, 2021

Larson is the Best


Even allowing for inflation, The Works is one heck of a deal.



Behind the scenes at the DMV...



Stop calling them farmers!

Saturday, May 1, 2021

Meet Frisco...

Ok, there isn’t much I enjoy on Facebook more than pictures of all of my friend’s grandchildren. Seriously, I never tire of them. However, they do serve to remind me that as of this moment I have exactly zero grandchildren myself...which is fine, after all good things come to those who wait. But, what I do have are.....


Grandpups!!!

This is Frisco and yesterday he turned two. Not only is he a piece of work, he also happens to be the most photogenic pupper in history. I challenge any of you to find me a more adorable dog. I understand that he is beside himself with excitement that his Lolly and Pops are coming down for a visit in two weeks! I share these photographs with this audience because sometimes we all need a psychological jumpstart, something to jolt our brains away from angst and despair and into happiness and hope. This is essentially the job description of all dogs. It’s what they do. Frisco is happy to oblige.

You’re welcome...



Friday, April 30, 2021

Turning the Tables

Many of you know my friend Pam Cole for two things, first that she has been battling cancer, and second that she has had to endure over 3000 of my infamous Dad Jokes over the past year and a half. Most of you have a hard time imagining which one of those has been harder on her. Be that as it may, I am happy to report that she is doing great. In fact, yesterday she did something that she had never done before...she sent me a joke!!

A woman accompanied her husband to the doctor. After his checkup, the doctor called the woman into his office alone for a private consultation and said, “Your husband is suffering from a severe disease combined with horrible stress, and unless you do these things, he will die. Each morning fix him a healthy breakfast. Be pleasant throughout the day, and make sure he’s in a good mood. Make him something nutritious for lunch, and at dinner time be sure to make him his favorite meals. Don’t burden him with any household chores; he’s probably had a difficult day. And don’t discuss your problems with him; it will only increase his stress. In other words, do your best to satisfy his every whim. If you do this for the next ten months, I think he will make a complete recovery.”

On the way home in the car, the husband asked, “So, what did the doctor say?”

She looked him squarely in the eye and said, “You’re not going to make it.”

Yes, I feel confident that Pam is doing just fine!

Wednesday, April 28, 2021

His Eye is on the Sparrow

Today was to be my easy day this week. I’ve nothing on my schedule, no appointments, no paperwork to complete, no calls to make. Thursday and Friday both are packed but today was wide open. So, what do I do? Wake up at 3:30. Beautiful. When I was a teenager and would ask my dad how long I could stay out on the weekends he would always answer the question this way, “I can’t think of anything good that happens at 2 o’clock in the morning, can you?” That was his round about way of saying, “be home by midnight.” Well, I am here to tell you that nothing good happens at 4 o’clock in the morning either. Although, there was this...

I emptied the dishwasher around quarter to five. The sky was just starting to glow with the first faint streams of daylight. I had noticed earlier that it was in the low 60’s so I decided to step out on the deck. I was greeted by what sounded like a bird choir, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir of the Audubon Society. From every direction I could hear them. There must have been ten different songs going on at the same time yet they all blended together to make something beautiful. It was still too dark to make out even a single bird, but the evidence of them was in the air all around me. I stood still for a moment and closed my eyes. What a delight to hear such a thing in the early morning twilight. I wondered for a moment what they were saying to each other...Looks like its gonna be another scorcher...Little worried about the Dunnevant’s feeder, its getting a bit low...Don’t worry, they always take care of us... At least, I hope that’s what they think. They would be right. Every two weeks we reload that feeder with premium, no mess seed. Our feeder has been in the same location for over five years now, attached to the railing of the deck. The first couple of years the birds were more skittish, scurrying away every time we made an appearance. Now, they know us better, they understand that we won’t hurt them, so they come and eat even if we are sitting just a few feet away...


They’re right. It is getting low. I’ll be sure to fill it before the end of the day. 

The squirrels, fortunate enough to not already have been killed, always try to get at the bird’s food and always fail, often hilariously so. The birds in our neighborhood seem to understand that this is theirs. We get an endless stream, all day, every day. Every type of bird you can imagine in every color, shape and size. They are all endlessly fascinating. Sometimes there will be half a dozen are more at the same time. Two or three will be eating while the rest wait on the railing in a line like people at the DMV, only much more patient and better dressed. Sometimes when I’m watching them I think of that old verse in the Bible, “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them fall to the ground outside your father’s care.”

His eye is on the sparrow.

So are mine.


Saturday, April 24, 2021

How to Write Bad Jokes

Getting that coveted second shot today at a Kroger in Mechanicsville. Pfizer. One step closer to normal...or one step closer to being subconsciously manipulated by the sinister machinations of Bill Gates’ microchips. Speaking of Mechanicsville...

A friend of mine happened to mention this in a recent text conversation, “We stayed in an Airbnb in Mechanicsville last week.” My reply was that that statement sounded like the punch line of a joke, like:

How can you tell when the travel restrictions of COVID have finally driven you mad?
When you realize that you actually stayed in an Airbnb in Mechanicsville last week.

Lots of people have asked me where in the world I get the thousands of jokes I have shared in this space and others over the years. Well, probably 80% or more of them I have gotten from a handful of awesome dad joke sites. But the rest I have cobbled together myself, mostly using a rather simple formula. Think of the punch line first. Then work backward. For example, the other day I was thinking about Maine and the time I took the family out on a lobsterman boat in the Penobscot Bay to watch a demonstration of how that business works. So, I naturally stated thinking about the lobster pot buoys, of how each lobsterman has his own distinctive color or design to differentiate his buoys from all the others. Then the phrase good buoys popped into my head. The joke that proceeded from this thought practically wrote itself:

You hear about the Lobsterman in Maine who redesigned all his pot markers to look like the face of his dog?
They were very good buoys...

To which my son responded...

..........

By the way, here’s a picture of that Lobsterman boat trip on the Lively Lady: