Dave Griffiths

A few random thoughts that have nothing to do with the parlous state of our democracy. I need a break:

Let’s start with Mothers Day. “If Momma ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.” That old aphorism says it all, though not in a domineering matriarchal way when I was growing up. In her own quiet, sweet-smiling presence, Mom was the truth in our household. She always knew what to say, and never let us forget that her loving and patient wisdom could address any foolishness three teenage boys came up with.

Fact is, she was almost always happy. An enduring image: Mom standing at the stove finishing up dinner, wriggling around to adjust her girdle, and trying for the umpteenth time to tell a joke she heard that day without giggling before it ended. By then we were laughing so hard we didn’t care about the punch line. Really miss her. 

A diabetes drug ad on TV and a bunch of people, many of them hefty, start dancing and singing like it’s a musical? Why not straight talk to the camera about what the drug can do? And maybe a gentle reminder that weight and diabetes have an unfortunate connection. 

That blackout in April wasn’t all hunkering down under a couple blankets. While I whined about the inconvenience, my wife lit a bunch of candles and we talked the night away. Turns out you can survive 45 hours without electricity. Best visual memory? My Miss Piggy statuette bathed in the light of a candle. Female porcine elegance is what it was. 

Ferdinand “BongBong” Marcos Jr. is the president of the Philippines. What’s a “bong,” and does saying it twice make any difference? Sounds a bit illegal, doesn’t it? Not that I would know. I was an unmarried newspaper reporter in hard-partying Kansas City in my 20s, and I lived a pristine life.

Yet another sign of how corporate America views our intelligence: It’s a TV ad, and a father and son who’s away at college are Zoom-bonding about laundry detergent. When I wrote home from college, it was about money, not soap.

David “Papi” Ortiz made tens of millions of dollars playing for the Red Sox. Why is he promoting betting on TV? Can’t we just enjoy the summer game without obsessing over numbers of strikeouts or the odds of extra innings? It’s a stain on baseball — the most important thing in life that doesn’t matter, according to one wag. But it does matter, doesn’t it?

Why do car salesmen on television yell at us? Just post some prices, show us a few photos, and give us your address and contact info. Radio pitches are much louder, I suppose because they’re trying to make up for lack of a visual.

Drink and food (in moderation) occupy my thinking as I age: Sipping a Bloody Mary adorned with pickled okra at a (mostly) Cajun music festival in Lafayette, Louisiana, while watching a Black woman sing “Chain of Fools.” I closed my eyes and it was Aretha.

As to food, the one difference between an OK breakfast and a breakfast that lifts my senses to the new day is an order of hash browns. At a local restaurant, they come out pale and soft and mealy, like the griddle guy was in an unseemly rush. But at the AHOP in Augusta, they’re laid out flat on an oval plate large enough to accommodate their rich brown 7 x 4-inch dimensions. Texture is what it’s all about. You can feel and hear them in your molars and your jaw.

Saw a grim-faced guy in a pub with AR-15s set out in a flag pattern on the back of his t-shirt instead of Stars and Stripes. To make sure we all got the point, he walked back and forth a lot, twisting this way and that at the bar. A real patriot.

A 19th century Quaker missionary had this to say: “I expect to pass through this world but once. If, therefore, there can be any kindness I can show or any good thing I can do my fellow being, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.”

Whatever your religion or lack of same, maybe we could all adhere to WWJD. What would Jesus do?

Dave Griffiths of Mechanic Falls is a retired journalist.