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It’s a wash when it comes to soap choices

I have to apologize for getting this column to you barely on time. I was debating with my wife about the size of soap bars. She uses fancy liquids bath solutions that are delicate and moisturising.

On the other hand, being a manly man, I use a bar of soap that rips off layers of skin. In concluding our discussion on soap, I told her I think soap bars are smaller and I was right. The one I use has shrunk in size 7 grams. How’s that for being a discerning soap bar analyst?

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I’m usually a fan of love songs, but not the one I heard the other day. I’m also a big fan of Johnny Mathis, but not the other day. He was singing a song that I never heard before and the lyrics make me vomit.

I’m a bit puzzled why I reacted that way. Perhaps it was a side effect of trying to catch up with our woke culture. Or maybe it was PTSD from reading Dr. Seuss books to my daughters years ago and now the toxicity of a Cat in the Hat had finally bubbled to the surface. Whatever it was, I caught my self reacting to Johnny’s love song with a shocking declaration of frustration, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The song was “I’ll Buy You A Star.” My reaction was, “What a cheapskate.” Yeah, sure you’ll buy her a star, Johnny, that’s because you’re too cheap to buy her a diamond.

In describing what follows, bear with me if I get a pronoun incorrect. I’m so not woke, I’m asleep.

Can you imagine some they identifying as a woman, telling them friends that they just got engaged to Johnny Mathis? Her friends search they’s left hand for a ring but they get redirected to the sky. (I’m getting all messed up with these pronouns).

They’s friends are looking up and they says, “Oh, no, Johnny got me something even better. Do you see that star, 3 stars to the left of the moon? That’s the one he got for me.” Whoop de do.

The next lyric tells us, the listeners, that Johnny’s crooning out his deep desire, “I won’t rest until I buy you the moon.”

I suppose that’ll be big spender Johnny’s gift for their first anniversary; the moon.

For subsequent anniversaries, they is now considering identifying as a guy again. They could probably plan on owning the entire solar system and a couple galaxies as a bonus.

I think I’ll try that technique on my sweetie this summer. At our next anniversary, “Dear, I just bought you the universe.” Then she will promptly grab her purse and head off to TJ’s.

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As you are well aware there is a push to identify oneself as more that just an American. Following up on this quest to fulfill our nation’s quest to complete identity politics is Columbia University. The elite thinkers there have become so progressive in their thought that they have returned to the past. Their graduation ceremony this spring will now consist of several different events to express the multicultural nature of Columbia U.

Personally, I would love to see the graduates all marching together as a group. It would be a commencement signifying many becoming one and express our culture as a group process to upgrade in our common humanity. But silly me, that’s so old fashioned according to the higher-minded in academia.

Togetherness is heresy to the woke culture of America in 2021. In the minds of the Columbia enlightened ones, you grow together by creating division. That is pure genius to those with a name followed by Ph.D.

This spring grads from Columbia U will be segregated into celebrating their various degrees in six different ceremonies.

When my vast research staff and I saw this list, we realized that the progressive minds coming together at Columbia came up way short of warp speed wokeness. There are many other groups on campus that need to be recognized for their achievements.

How about the IAs ceremony for guys like me; Italian Americans. They could be wearing the traditional mitre board cap where the tassel is topped with a meatball. No procession of grads to Pomp and Circumstance for this familia. The IAs will proceed to Dean Martin crooning That’s Amore.

There are many other outstanding achievements on campus that should be singled out.

Let’s hear a resounding ovation for the guys who were drunk during the first two years of undergrad classes.

The Pomp and Circumstance procession should feature all of those grads who survived jamming 4 Slim Jims up their nose during a spring break challenge.

Finally my staff recommends a ceremony for the students known as Specists. They are going where no man has ever gone before. Columbia celebrates those who are transitioning to a new species. This group of grads, will on the count of three, shout a joyous ‘Hooray” with their emerging honks and squeals.

Nin Privitera is a Fredonia resident. His column appears monthly. Send comments to editorial@observertoday.com

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