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(Transcript)
As big oil’s profits continue to plump, Nothing gets more plumb angry Americans more pumped up than pumping up at the gas pump, especially when you now have those little television sets trumpeting the gas company’s commercials and actual programmed, well, programming. Best enjoyed with the a tub of warm, buttery, fuel-tainted, popcorn, these little videos are often ads for common home items like diesel flyswatters and butane cookie jars, sometimes there’s a little friendly gas pump advice - like don’t smoke while fueling up and please don’t drive off with the nozzle still in your car. I only did this once, well twice, and now it seems like every talking gasoline dispenser can’t shut up about it. To be insulted and fed fossil fuel propaganda as you’re trying to enjoy the simple pleasure of having your pocket picked raises some ethical questions. Namely…
What ever happened to Popeye? Sure he has a chain of fried chicken dispensaries scattered across our great land, but the kids today don’t know that he was once a cartoon hero to many of us. Sure, in the beginning many of his films had racist elements to them. This was a common practice back in the day. Many remember Betty Boop for her unbridled hatred of Bolivian beavers in the Fleisher Studio short Betty goes Bananas. She became even more of a totalitarian-tolerating tart during the McCarthy era.
Whatever his shortcomings were, Popeye kept his canned hominy handy and when he needed a boost to save the day he downed that swollen corn faster than Jim Backus slugged back martinis.
The movie studios today seem to resurrect every dumb character from yesteryear’s TV shows and turn them into a picture of the motion variety. Why not Popeye once again? He can bring his girlfriend with him too, Olivia Oil Stain, but nobody likes or wants his nemesis, Bluto, Brutus or Barry - whatever his name is - to come along. He was a confused, menacing presence. Popeye should be fighting more existential threats than some bearded nut job. Maybe Popeye the Sailer man could take on Global Warming, despotic Russian hegemony, light pollution or bad vibes. No matter what side you’re on when it comes to the fluoridation debate, Popeye would settle it once and for all and we would all come together embraced in his precariously swollen forearms.
My Daddy used to always tell me - Son you can always catch more jellyfish with peanut butter than with vinegar, but either way, that sandwich is probably going to sting you. And was he ever right!
This is Jen Ryedour reminding you to ask your hometown gas station to continue resurrecting the drive in theater by playing Dawn of the Dead or Mama Mia at the next gas pump movie night. It’s well within your rights as defined in the Magna Carta and the code of hammurabi. Is my microphone still on?
The Jen Ryedour Tower of Sourdough Flour is brought to you wherever and whenever your number is called. Until then, please wait quietly in line.