Political Gumbo: No, I Don’t Sound Like Mickey Rooney

Happy New Year!

Been fighting a serious cold for a few weeks. This one was different. It attacked my voicebox and I had to go radio silent for a few days.

It latched on like a crazy ex-girlfriend and refused to go away.

Stayed with me through my time in Las Vegas, but finally started to give up late last week. The cough lingers though.

But I’m through the worst of it.

Maybe I went to one too many Christmas parties.

I couldn’t pass up the Pasadena Media soiree. They know how to throw a shindig at the House of Falardeau.

The mayor’s event was nice also.

And then the knockout punch came.

Of course, I tried to be tough and struggled to my feet and still made my trip to Nevada complete with cough drops and something mimicking cough syrup.

That stuff does nothing.

By the time I got back home my New Year’s resolution was breathing through both nostrils and not sounding like Mickey Rooney on helium.

That’s how my daughter described my voice.

I have no idea how she knows who Mickey Rooney is.

I can’t get down with Blackface, I don’t watch that racist ass stuff in my house. Not to mention, the parody of Asian Americans in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”

He lamented it later in life. Good for him, but still not in my house.

Back on point, I don’t always sound like that despite what my brother said.

Yes, they got some good laughs at my expense over the holidays. Even my mom took a shot.

“Boy you sound like dammit to hell.”

Everybody wants to get in on the act.

Not really sure how she knows what dammit to hell sounds like or why she recommended a home remedy far worse than the cold.

Not sure where one would even acquire a chicken toenail.

All I could think about was Foghorn Leghorn limping around a barn someplace.

Family.

Laughter.

Life.

I finally just climbed into bed and decided to go to sleep and let my high tech immune system do its job, via plenty of fluids and some gumbo.

The real stuff, not the column.

Starve a cold, feed a fever or is starve a fever, feed a cold.

Either way, never miss a good pot of gumbo.

As we get deeper into 2024 remember the things that separate us are not so great, there are people far worse off and no matter what’s going on today, it can get better.

Alright time to watch the Rose Bowl Game.