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Fox Boycotts Obama 5/1/2009 6:48:07 AM
Willy Moncrief showed up on my deck wearing a stiff white painter’s mask and carrying a six-pack of Dortmunder’s Lite Dark Lager. “Whaddya going to do,” I asked, “re-seal my deck?”
“In your dreams, laddie,” he replied. “It’s me protection aginst t’e swine flu.”
“The beer or the facemask?” I inquired, with feigned interest.
“Actually, both,” he assured me. “I t’ink t’e fabric does little to keep t’e virus out, but it’s becomin’ a fashion statement. Ye notice how t’inner an’ more glamorous t’e Mexican women look on TV? An’ t‘e Dortmunder diverts me attention. T’at, an’ me swearin’ off ham an’ bacon fer t’e duration should do t’e trick. Come to t’ink of it, pigs is gettin’ a bum rap. Ain’t t’eir fault if t’e bugs like to dance inside ‘em an’ mutate like rabbits at Easter.”
I told him, noticing for the millionth time the Irish cannot say words with the “th” sound, I thought pigs, rabbits, and mutating bugs made a poor metaphor.
“Mutate, fornicate—wattever,” he sighed. “Point is, if it wasn’t fer pigs swimmin’ off on sneaky trysts wit’ dolphins, we wouldn’t have t’is mess we’re in. Never did trust t’ose beady-eyed fish wit’ t’at hole in t’eir head! Ye see ‘em in t’e water an’ t’ey look like t’e sharks t’ey are, wit’ t’at fin an’ all! It’s no wonder Fox refused to carry President Obama’s press conference t’e other night!”
Shaking my head, I observed, “You’re nuts, Willie. First of all, pigs can’t swim. Second, what self-respecting dolphin would have anything to do with them—and third, what has Fox network to do with either?”
Moncrief eyed me suspiciously. “If you’re so hot for pigs,” he said, between sips, “maybe t’at explains your communist leanin’s . . . ”
“My—what!”
“Pigs is pink, ain’t t’ey? An’ t’at Putin person’s purty fishy—an’ ye know as well as me, Mr. Obama spent a lot o’ time yakkin’ about t’e swine flu dilemma, an’ if Fox had carried it, all we’d heard was t’e whole thing about it bein’ a socialist plot to convince t’e American people t’e only way we can stop t’e flu is to give health insurance to everybody, whether t’ey got t’e shiverin’ fits or not! Lemme have another beer.”
I had to admire the depth of Moncrief’s political acumen. “So—all that makes me a communist, right? . . . I still don’t know what dolphins have to do with it.”
“Well, I didn’t know, neit’er, but I t’ink t’ey’ve got everything to do wit’ it. You ever read Kim Komando’s website? She’s an Irish lass—real name’s Kimster Keneally—she’s from Limerick, I t’ink—used to date her when we went to St. Dominick’s back in t’e farties. She had a whole t’ing on her website last Monday: Virus of t’e Day. Film made underwater of dolphins blowin’ rings outta t’eir blow holes—rings loaded wit’ swine flu virus t’at came up to t’e surface an’ floated right on up in t’e air!”
I waited until Moncrief had finished the last of his six-pack and left for home before I went inside to my office and fired up my trusty (well, not very trusty) Dell. Finding Kim Komando’s column from last Monday (“Tracking Swine Flu,”) I scrolled down to Daily Freebies at Komando.com—and there it was!
But it was not Virus of the Day, it was “Video of the Day,” all about the miracle of dolphins blowing bubbles and playing with them. It had nothing whatever to do with pigs, Putin, Fox, or the flu!
I reached across my desk for the telephone and started to punch in Moncrief’s number. At 770, I stopped. What would be the use? At his age, (like mine, it matched the first two digits of his phone number,) he was convinced that swine flu resulted from pigs cohabiting with dolphins, and that “Lie to Me” was far more important than anything the pro tempore leader of the free world might have to say.
Maybe he was right. If either one of us came down with H1N1, H3N2, or H1N2 (why can’t they just call it Mexican Flu, or even Spanish Flu?—no, it’d be confused with Spanish Fly; it’s the prom season,) it would, in all likelihood, be academic. Excuse me while I go wash my hands, sing Happy Birthday, and send someone for a box of painters’ masks.
Also, as the scalding water mixed with the cold, it occurred to me that Kim Komando was probably not yet born when Moncrief emigrated from Ireland.
