It’s Day 340 of 15 Days to Flatten the Curve. Deb and I are fine.
If you felt the Earth move under your feet yesterday morning, it probably was the public reaction to news that the classic “Mr. Potato Head” toy was going “gender-neutral.” Henceforth it’d be known simply as “Potato Head.”
“The way the brand currently exists — with the ‘Mr.’ and ‘Mrs.’ — is limiting when it comes to both gender identity and family structure,” said a company spokeswoman.
Social-justice warriors were elated. Cultural preservationists were outraged.
After the company later clarified that the change applied to the brand and not the specific characters, SJWs were sent scrambling for a puppy and a safe space.
The original Mr. Potato Head hit the market a few years before I was born. Back then, believe it or not, we had to supply our own potato. Safetycrats decided that the spikes on the toy’s three-dimensional cartoon parts were too sharp for delicate children to play with, and in the mid-’60s a plastic potato became part of the deal.
Lest anyone think that the gender-neutrality hubbub is anything new for Mr. Potato Head, he’s long been a socio-political tool. The company that makes the toy yanked his pipe (my favorite part) to please the feds in the ’80s. Five years later he headlined an ad campaign in which he pledged not to be a “couch potato.” Shortly thereafter he was featured in a Democrat get-out-the-vote pitch.
Who listens to a plastic potato?
It’s impossible to keep up with the corporate virtue-signaling these days. Nothing surprises me anymore, and it’ll get a little easier once “black history month” is over next week, but it all reminds me that progressives aren’t dumb — they’re just crippled.
Deb and I devoted another good day to Ernie. While I finished collecting and packing gear destined for the bus’s basement, she worked again on the interior and began replacing a light fixture. A friend stopped by to start the installation of the TV in the living space.
Walking out of the coach this afternoon I saw a new addition — sitting on the dash in front of the co-pilot’s seat was a cast-metal “Smokey Bear” figurine that once belonged to Deb’s uncle and has special meaning for her. Pretty cool.
Oh, and we’ve circled a date on the calendar. Stay tuned.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.