OK, guys -- guys -- one thing, hey: Just remember, when you're being inundated with all this Bicentennial brouhaha this summer, don't forget that what you're really celebrating is a bunch of aristocratic slave-owning white males who didn't wanna pay their taxes!

Thing the first: You might be spending a little too much time reading your political tumblrs if you have full-scale Technicolor dreams about Standing with Wendy.

Thing the second: I have started to see my increasingly-frequent trips to the Lucky supermarket in my neighborhood as a form of time travel. This place, y'all -- it's in a shopping strip built in the late '60s or early '70s, it's like ... I don't know, like where the goddamn Brady Bunch would get their 20 pounds of ground chuck. It's HUGE, the aisles are wide enough for three gigantic old-school shopping carts to pass each other with room to say howdy, they have everything (including a florist, a half-acre of breakfast cereal, canning/preserving supplies, buttermilk, Little Debbies, and about a quarter-mile-long wine & liquor aisle), there's a gigantic bakery/deli section with (I think) actual butchers in-house,* the milk is all in the cooler at the back which does not have doors, and I am getting to love this place. It's like I'm Ramona Quimby's mom, doing the marketing.** I buy things that are on special (they have specials!), I compare pasta brands, I order children's birthday cakes ... It is, no kidding around, pretty awesome. And then I go outside, put it all in the back of my hybrid vehicle, and drive back to the twenty-teens, where things are sleeker and better-lit but not necessarily quite as much fun. 

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*I mean, that cut up meats -- cold cuts, chops, ribeyes, what have you -- not kill and render them; most grocery stores these days don't want to pay and train and certify anyone to use the slicers and such, which is why at like Safeway you can't get them to slice you some turkey fresh, you have to take a wad of it from the big pre-sliced pile in the case, which is why I never ever buy cold cuts at Safeway O GOD I MISS NEW YORK SO BAD SOMETIMES. 

**in the second book, written in 1968; y'all ever notice the Ramona books are set in whichever year they were written, that although the family's life progresses normally with aging and whatnot, they don't all stay in the 1950s like when the first book came out? 

     ***OMFG Beverly Cleary is still alive! And she lives about two hours' drive from me! aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh! Total Stalkerazzi Time! 

Burban cowboys

So, would you guys say these items in the Cheetah's Growl* (Kid Gleemonex's school's weekly parent newsletter) are very passive-aggressive, or the MOST passive-aggressive?

Doughnuts and DadsTuesday, September 17th is Take Your Dad to School Day! We hope dads can make the time to take their children to school that morning and join us in the cafeteria after drop off for coffee and doughnuts. 

Calling all Dads!Next Tuesday, September 17th, Dads are bringing the kids to school, so why not come back at lunchtime! Have lunch with your child and their friends and then hit the playground for some serious fun. If you have an hour to spare around noon, I'm sure your child would love nothing more than to spend it with you ... so be sure to stop on by!

Pity the fool who's married to whoever wrote that, eh?

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*Not its real name

Sounds major.

An excerpt from A Student's Handbook to The History of  [Cowburg] County: EVERYTHING you need to know!, by Winona Louise Gleemonex, Mrs. L's Fourth Grade Class, c. 1984.

VII. Social Life - and - Amusement
The early settlers were always hospitable and friendly to visitors and neighbors, as was their custom. Cowboys were always, always welcome.

Horseracing was very popular. [Cowburg] County had many tracks, on which very famous horses raced. 

Barbecues were held, and dance contests and singings. In other words they were very social and friendly people. 

Y'all hear some kid's MOM pulled a shotgun on my ass?

As I told my friend the Drink Nazi, who tipped me to this 20th-anniversary screening & cast reunion:

I MIGHT ACTUALLY DIE OF WANTING TO GO TO THERE

I mean, it's no LAMBORGHINI DIABLO, but it's pretty fucking quirky.

I am using context clues to determine that this was made (by me, alas) in about 1990. One lesson you could take from this is that it might be a good idea to get your own goddamned ideas and stop romanticizing a time that was over before you were born and which you have no real clue about. Another is, you have a lot of time on your hands and some very vague, uninformed thoughts on "freedom" and "revolution."

Also: is that Edie Brickell, hugging her knees like this is a tampon commercial? WTF?