Picture a snow-covered mountain in Polynesia. It rises majestically above a prosaic village, dwarfing the tiki huts and placing the mundane cares of its denizens in perspective by way of a sort of implicit pictorial reproach, so imposing are its lofty crags and cloudy pinnacles. Just so this Web page rises above cyberspace, tacitly chiding its Netizens for their want of taste in their own digital reading fare.


April 2021

More things that Dr. Fauci will and will not be doing now that he's been vaccinated

He WILL be petting his dog Fifi.

He will NOT be kissing her on the nose.

He WILL still be placing a bottle of antibacterial gel in "Free Parking," as a stark reminder to his Monopoly playmates of the ongoing threat of the virus, even though this practice routinely engenders snarky speculation that the bottle in question will convey to the first person to land on the Free Parking square, "which," as Tony keeps petulantly pointing out, "it won't. Duh."

He WILL NOT be engaging in his often ridiculed practice of washing all Monopoly tokens prior to game play, which at least one of his nearest relatives has dismissed as "anal." ("Just use the antibacterial gel on your hands, Tony," she says, "like everybody else.")

He WILL be taking his wife to Pop-Pop's again, a local eatery favored by the missis, even though the good doctor still has his own long-standing reservations about the establishment's true commitment to cleanliness.

He WILL not be shaking hands with what the good doctor is pleased to call "the doubtful habitues of that joint, you know, Ted Jennings and the rest of those beach bums," (though of course this harsh analysis is always uttered sotto voce, just loud enough to result in the instant knitting of his wife's eyebrows into what Fauci once confidentially described to me as "two big black pinball paddles," leaving me to ask myself afterwards, however: was I more embarrassed for myself or for Dr. Fauci? Not only was it an awkward simile, but it was just so unbecoming of the man. I guess one should never get too close to greatness -- especially when said greatness is at the local bar tossing back schnapps.)

He WILL be square dancing.

He will NOT be entering a mosh pit, no matter how feverishly the crowd may exhort him to "Go, Tony! Go, Tony!"

He WILL be praying to his usual deity.

He will NOT be invoking the aid of any heathen deities.

He WILL be giving Mrs. Fauci a playful "chuck" under the chin.

He will NOT be...

Well, you get the idea.

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Copyright 2017, Brian Quass quass@quass.com (follow on Twitter)