POPCORN

                                                                 BY JIM SZANTOR

Rhetorical questions, questionable rhetoric 

and whimsical observations about

 the absurdities of contemporary life

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 --I was a teenage marriage counselor.

--If Snoop Dogg gets any more mainstream (a la canoodling with Martha Stewart, doing commercials for everything from beer to cell phones), it wouldn’t surprise me if he is up for a Cabinet post or an ambassadorship! Celebaschizzle!

--The man: Adolphe Quetlet.  

 --His occupation/ A 19th Century Belgian statistician, mathematician and astronomer. What he did:  Invented the Body Mass Index.  (Kind of hard to work into a conversation, but there you have it.)

(There are four basic categories of body fat:  Normal, chubby, obese and deputy sheriff.)

--We all have heard the term “red tape” hundreds of times, but how many of us have literally seen such a thing?  All the tape I’ve ever seen is clear, brown or black.

--I doubt that “I think I’ll have an Arnold Palmer” will ever have quite the same meaning.

--Nothing gets my dander up like someone who hasn’t spent one second in the military asking me, a four-year Air Force veteran, “So. did you vote?”  I’m tempted to go into tongue-lashing mode, and sometimes do—especially if it’s a stranger or someone I scarcely know.

--I’m said it before and here it goes again:  The Supreme Court, the Federal Reserve Board and OPEC hold more sway over the so-called “kitchen-table issues” than any president, especially if he faces an adversarial Congress.

--And yes, I have already voted, because I’m qualified:  I can name my local representatives, all nine members of the Supreme Court, who the Fed Chairman is and can also name the leaders of our two neighboring countries.  (That would be Claudia Sheinbaum—elected in October as president of Mexico, replacing Andres Emanuel Lopez Obrador—and Justin Trudeau, who has ruled Canada since 2015.  And he’s prime minister, by the way, not president.)

--How many people know these things?  Few, precious few.  Yet they rarely miss an episode of “Family Feud” and wonder why our country is in the shape that it’s in.  And then there’s another concomitant travesty—our abysmally low voter turnout (only 66% in the 2020 presidential election.  "Sacré Bleu!"

--Hats off to whomever invented the rubber twist tie, the greatest invention since sliced bread.

--I think more people would donate their cars to Kars for Kids if they would get rid of that nauseating jingle.  (Drives me crazy!)

--Memo to publishers of the AARP Bulletin:  What’s the point of printing (judging by the headlines) interesting articles if the body type is too small for most of your target audience—oldsters!—to read? I’m listening.

To Your Health

--It's my contention that if the restaurant industry operated like the health-care industry has traditionally (and does even currently, despite recent reform attempts), no one in their right mind would eat out.  No transparency--no prices listed or given for any procedure.  Just blind trust--or hapless naivete--because "that's the way they've always done it."  (And have always gotten away with it.)

Case in point, a colonoscopy: You arrive at the hospital where the main event occurs.  Occur it does, and about 90 minutes later, you depart. Not a cent changes hands; you could have left your wallet at home

(The day before, you picked up the prep stuff at the doctor’s office, again with no funds changing hands.)

Fast-forward about 10 days when The Bill arrives.  Wait, did I say Bill, Singular?  I should have said Bills, Plural.  Very plural.  Because you get a bill from the hospital, from the surgeon, from the anesthesiologist, from the lab where the polyps were analyzed, and finally, a bill from the radiologist who did that analysis.  Apologies if anyone was left out

Now suppose you choose to celebrate your birthday at of your favorite dining spots. 

You walk over to this neighborhood restaurant and proceed to indulge.  Drinks, appetizers, entrees, dessert, wine.  And, as with the hospital experience recounted above, no  prices are listed or discussed, and not a cent changes hands--you could have left your wallet at home.  But again, you’re a hapless victim of the no-transparency shakedown. 

So, you guessed it, about 10 days later, The Bill would arrive.  Oops--I meant BILLS, Plural. Very plural.  Because you will receive one not just from the restaurant, but one from the chef, one from the waitress, one from the busboy, one from the bartender, one from the dishwasher, and—if you order the prime rib—quite possibly a bill from the steer as well! 

So the next time you dine out--whether it's at a neighborhood place or a haute cuisine emporium--just be glad you don't need your Medicare Advantage Card.  But take heart--you are allowed, as least so far as I know, at this moment in time, to bring your pre-existing condition--your hunger. Bon appetit!

Fun (Pun) Fact: I once won a pun contest with, "What do you call an old sailor with a howitzer?"  Answer:  "A salt with a deadly weapon!"

--Overstaffing Exhibit A: Why does “60 Minutes” always list the staffers who AREN’T on that week’s program?  “I’m Lesley Stahl” (apparently hellbent on working until she drops, depriving someone else of a prestige job in the process), “I’m So-and So” and on and on until no fewer than seven people are introduced, despite the show being a “special edition” consisting of a mere two stories?  Most amusing is that one of the Holy Seven is CNN’s Anderson Cooper, the Vanderbilt scion and man with two last names who also works mainly for CNN.  Must need the money.

This calls to mind the statement (by Geore Carlin, Robert Klein?) that you know it’s going to be rough day when you arrive at work and see a “60 Minutes” film crew setting up outside your office.

--Lady Gaga, your plane is boarding. (You can sit with Lesley Stahl.)  

DRUDGING AROUND: Lisa Marie Presley 'kept son’s body in her home for two months after his death' . . . Qantas forced to apologize after subjecting families to R-rated, sex-heavy flick on flight from Sydney to Tokyo . . . Are taxis safer with no driver? These women think so . . . Naked nuns on roller skates, Christ’s loin cloth ripped off, real blood:  Just a night at the opera in Stuttgart . . . Teachers fired for giving melatonin patches to preschoolers to help them fall asleep . . . Putin running out of cemeteries? . . . 7-Eleven closing more than 400 stores . . . Shoplifters gone wild:  Rise in middle-class thieves . . . Drug-sniffing police dogs are now intercepting abortion pills in the mail . . . 65% increase in homicides—committed by kids! . . . Man declared brain dead wakes up during organ harvesting . . . Who stole 22 tons of cheddar? “Sophisticated” cheese heist sparks police hunt in England.  (As always, thanks to Matt Drudge and his merry band of aggregators.)

--All-Overrated Club:  Ryan Seacrest, Diane Sawyer and Wolf Blitzer.

--Mark my words, someday "Winnie the Pooh" will be on Broadway.  (They've done just about everything else, from "Peter Pan" to "Spiderman.")

--When' is the last time someone invited you to "step into the parlor"? (A very long time, unless you were recently in a remake of a very old movie.)

--Word of the Week (from Al Lewis of Dow Jones): "Biflation."

--That's when everything you already own--house, car, stock portfolio--has rapidly declined in value, and everything you actually need to buy--food, fuel, medicine, education--is going up.  This is what happens, Lewis says, "when the Fed creates trillions of new dollars out of nothing, but mostly just gives it to the banks."

--Re Walgreen’s planning to close 1,200 stores: Even in pharmacies that remain open, Business Insider reports, there's often next to nothing inside the store. “Many items on the shelves are locked up, and good luck finding an employee to help you free the jailed deodorant or shampoo, given how woefully understaffed many pharmacies are.”

--I don't know about you, but I'm putting Alec Baldwin in the jimjustsaying’s MFATWR Club:  Memorable For All The Wrong Reasons.  Other members:  Charlie Sheen, Rosie O’Donnell, Steve Bannon.

--jimjustsaying’s Oxymoron of the Week:  Job security.

--Weather words: It turns out a cyclone, a tropical cyclone and a typhoon are the same thing as a hurricane, according to meteorologist Brian Gotter, but called different names depending on location.

It's a hurricane if it happens in the North Atlantic or the Northeast Pacific Ocean, a typhoon should it occur in the Northwest Pacific and a cyclone or a tropical cyclone if it strikes in the Indian Ocean.

In Australia, however, a tropical cyclone is often called a willy-willy! Furthermore, a willy-willy can also refer to a whirlwind or a dust devil . . . not to be confused with a haboob (an intense sandstorm in the desert).  But again, this is Australia, where something true or genuine is called “fair dinkum!”

--There will never be a Howard Cosell Lookalike Contest.

--Today's Chinese lesson:  我不會擔心如果我是你.  ("I wouldn't worry about it if I were you!")

Special thanks to Bob Alou, this month's Popcorn intern.