DECEMBER 5, 2023 – Yesterday evening after scoring a sugar high from “doughnut-making” time with Grandma, our eight-year-old granddaughter was packed off for home. As Grandma herself then realized that her “supper” had featured . . . doughnuts with icing colored (by our granddaughter) in imitation of automotive fluid and over-adorned with “sprinkles.” If I desired a more nutritional repast, I was on my own.
By the time I got around to an easy “meal in a can” (lentil soup with fresh spinach, arugula, and broccoli tossed in for good measure), time had advanced to 8:00 Central. For kicks I turned on the kitchen TV and hit “enter,” which brought up MSNBC, one of the two main cable-opinion networks (a third choice being cable-propaganda). It was the top of the Rachel Maddow Show, starring . . . drum roll . . . Rachel Maddow.
As I stirred the soup to prevent a repeat of a previous “meal in a can” mishap—over-heated contents sticking to the bottom of the pot—Maddow dove into a litany of her political differences with Liz Cheney and the former Congresswoman’s Neo-con globalist mover and shaker father, Dick Cheney. I had a hunch I knew where she, Rachel, was headed.
Sure enough. Her special guest would be her political nemesis and author of the newly released book, Oath and Honor: A Memoir and a Warning—Liz Cheney. In the 10-minute intro the hard-hitting show host read multiple excerpts from the book, which encompassed firsthand accounts of Republican shenanigans that nearly caused me to scorch the “meal in a can.” Maddow’s point was a sobering one: the Duly Defeated’s threat to American democracy is so great, his defeat is the most critical imperative facing American voters. On that point, Maddow and Cheney are wholly unified, despite the chasms between their positions on substantive policy issues.
Cheney’s indictment of the Republican Party for its sycophancy toward the Beast had my full attention. Her attestations were so serious and sobering that I began to wonder if I didn’t have a civic duty to be more vocal—and certainly more active—about joining the cause, as it were, in defense of democracy.
At the same time I was miffed. Here now Rachel Maddow and Liz Cheney were invading my brain and urging me to “go political.” Would I have to break my relaxing five-month hiatus from talking politics on this blog? (Since completing posts of my second memoir, I’ve shied away from posting about politics or issues in other realms—most prominently, science—that have devolved ineluctably into political concerns.)
I remained stuck on the horns of the dilemma—politics/no politics—early this morning when I joined Beth in the living room. She was still her usual attire and routine for that hour: wearing PJs and bathrobe, seated in her recliner, coffee mug to the side, box of book inventory to be entered on her Amazon sales page, with Morning Joe—volume down—raising Cain on the TV screen.
I’d entered the scene in the midst of Jonathan Lemire’s conversation with a show guest—none other than the indefatigable Liz Cheney. Round II. Damn! I thought. Will her dire warning now force me back into political rants? Does the magnitude and character of the alarm mandate that I amplify it, albeit in modest fashion, by an urgent post on this blog?
As I dangled from the dilemma horns, Beth said out of the blue, “The problem is that young people who are either apathetic about politics or spoiled because they can’t get their way instantly aren’t hearing this. They’re not watching TV. They get their information from Tik Tok or Instagram or other social media. [etc.]”
Her point freed me from my dilemma. Whether today’s post would reach young people or not, it would address the issue that Rachel Maddow and Liz Cheney were telling us “trumped” all other issues on anyone’s agenda.
But just then, a Medicare Advantage Plan ad upended my decision. Neither Beth nor I could have predicted that within a New York minute we’d be laughing hysterically. Democracy swirling around the sewer drain? Ha! Let’s talk about an even more pressing issue: growing old.
It all started with the slow (and loud) voice behind the low-budget TV ad: “If you have Medicare, you might not have Plan B. To find out the best Plan B in your area, call now to speak to a licensed representative. All you have to do is first call this number—853-746-2987—and then give the licensed representative your zip code . . .”
Simultaneously, Beth and I burst out laughing. “I can picture the SNL skit,” I said. “Something along the lines of, ‘Are you old and slow and hard of hearing? NO PROBLEM. First, find your phone. Second, call this number: 123-456-7890. Again, 123-456-7890. Third, when someone answers, inhale, open your mouth, and say YOUR ZIP CODE. Again, call 098-765-4321 . . . no, we’re just messing with you. From 10012 [zip code for SNL studios at Rockefeller Center], it’s Saturday Night Live!’”
Before we’d recovered from our first bout of laughter, the funny fire was fed with more combustible material: a Gerber life insurance ad that opened with, “If you’re watching this ad, you’re probably not dead yet.” In the upper corner of the screen graphics was the age-old (ironically) familiar Gerber baby head logo.
In hysterics, Beth sucked in enough oxygen to point out how the ads targeting Boomers supported her earlier assertion, to-wit: young folks aren’t watching TV or hearing Liz Cheney.
No sooner had programming resumed than Beth started complaining about the mouse pad on her laptop. “I hate this,” she said. “I just can’t get my fingers on the right spot, especially when I’m holding it up close when I’m sitting in this recliner. There outta be two mouse pads. I much prefer working on my desktop where I can use a real mouse; one I can put my whole hand around.”
“Wow,” I said. “We’re sounding like a couple of old people.”
Beth wasn’t the least bit piqued by my characterization. Just the opposite. She carried it further. “What I could really use,” she said, “is some kind of tray to put the laptop on. Actually . . .” she interrupted herself with another laughing fit. Moments later she gathered enough oxygen to say, “. . . what I need is the mobile tray stand that my mom had at the nursing home . . . you know, the kind that could be wheeled up to her bed and swung over her lap.”
Once our renewed laughter had subsided, we were targeted by another sponsor of Morning Joe: Andersen Renewal Windows. Good word choice for an elderly audience—renewal instead of “replacement.” The ad was a reassuring reminder that our living quarters are older than we are. If we ourselves need of upgrades as much as our house does, at least between us and the dwelling, we’ll always be younger.
And this concludes today’s post—nearly ruined by Maddow and Cheney but saved by laughter.
Subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
© 2023 by Eric Nilsson
