Don’t Have a Cow, Man!

A Real Shot in the Arm

Tara texted me yesterday, letting me know that Walgreen’s was scheduling COVID vaccinations for our eligibility groups. I still hadn’t heard anything from the local health system regarding an appointment, so I jumped online to check it out. Sure enough, there were 17 slots available for today. Within five minutes, I had appointments for my first and second doses.

I actually couldn’t believe how easy it was.

So, at noon today, I headed to the nearest Walgreen’s and got ‘er done. I’ve never been so excited to get stabbed in the arm before. It was no big deal at all; ripping the band-aid off hurt more than the actual needle puncturing my skin. I’m already sore all over from shoveling a ton of snow yesterday* so it’s impossible to tell what (if anything) is related to the shot. I feel perfectly fine otherwise.

I ended up getting the Pfizer vaccine, btw. I know beggars can’t be choosers and I’d have been thrilled with any of them, but that’s the one I was secretly hoping for.

My second dose is scheduled for April 13. Walgreen’s is spacing them out four weeks due to availability and demand. The CDC says you’ve got up to 42 days between doses anyway, so that should be fine. I already feel a small measure of relief knowing I’ve got the vaccine percolating in my bloodstream now.

Why Shovel When You Can Blow?

*You might be wondering why I shoveled 7.5” of heavy, wet snow when we’ve got a handy dandy snow blower that would have made the job a hell of a lot quicker and pain-free.

Trust me, that was my intention. But when I hauled the snow blower outside Monday morning and tried to start it, the damn thing refused to turn over. Several repeated attempts yielded the same non-result. I thought maybe I’d flooded the engine trying to get it to kick on, so I reluctantly gave up and spent 45 minutes shoveling the driveway and sidewalk. I came home on my lunch and tried to start it again, but nada. And because it snowed most of the day, I spent another 30 minutes after work shoveling. Again.

I’m no mechanic, but I don’t think there’s anything majorly wrong with the snow blower. Tara had mentioned a few weeks ago that, oops, we never did empty the gas for the season last May when it finally stopped snowing. I didn’t know doing so was a thing. After Googling the issue, I suspect some of the gas left in the tank evaporated, clogging the carburetor.

(Holy crap, “carburetor” is a hard word to spell. Took me three attempts and I finally gave up and looked it up online.)

Anyway. It’s easy enough to clean a carburetor. In theory, anyway. I’ve never actually done so, but I’m pretty sure I can figure it out. That’s a project I’ll have to tackle before it snows again.

Gen X to the Rescue? Ha!

Did you hear how Fox News is calling on Generation X to help them out and take a stand against cancel culture? I’ve got one word for them.

It’s not even a word.

Because I remember all too well how the very Boomers asking for our help tried to cancel our culture back in the 80s. I was a fledgling reporter for my high school newspaper and wrote this big expose on the Parents Music Resource Center (PMRC), Tipper Gore’s committee whose main goal was to slap warning labels on some of our most cherished albums. Their so-called “Filthy Fifteen” included songs by Prince, Madonna, Sheena Easton, Def Leppard, Cyndi Lauper, Twisted Sister, AC/DC, and more. In other words: all the music I loved at the time.

I was furious that the government was trying to dictate what I could listen to, viewing it as nothing short of censorship.

The PMRC was just the beginning. Remember when President George H.W. Bush dissed The Simpsons for their supposed lack of family values and said we should be more like the Waltons? And how about Dan Quayle’s one-man crusade against Murphy Brown because that show had the gall to feature a working mom raising a baby on her own. Oh, I had a cow, man!

It’s all just blatant hypocrisy, and as a proud member of Gen X, I can assure you “we’re not gonna take it!”

There’s a little vindication for you, Dee Snider.

So, cry all you want about Dr. Seuss and (Mr.) Potato Head, guys. It’s all falling on deaf ears over here. Plus, nothing is getting “cancelled” anyway. When Dunkin’ Donuts dropped Donuts from their name to reflect a more expansive menu, where was the conservative outcry then? If you think removing books from publication because they contain offensive racial stereotypes is wrong, and aren’t interested in inclusivity and equality and teaching children acceptance, then we are never going to see eye to eye and I really don’t have anything to say to you.  

I’m just going to walk away singing “She bop, he bop, we bop” loudly and proudly to drown out your outrage.

I won’t worry and I won’t fret.
Ain’t no law against it yet.