“Who will get the pet pig?”

I picked up that question last week — along with a flu shot, my first ride on the Second Ave subway, turmeric and door hinges.

One of the pleasures of visiting my physician contingent is reading celebrity gossip magazines in their waiting rooms. Sometimes I get to my appointments early, just for the mags. Because MD’s waiting rooms are the only places nowadays I get to read gossip. And I love gossip, especially about celebrities I’ve never heard of.

Which brings me to that pet pig. A majority of the celeb “news” is about romantic connections and break-ups. The question of that pig was posed by the magazine in dissecting the painful elements of one such break-up.

I mentioned this to the nurse who was giving me my flu shot. She murmured something about pork chops, and then, “Ooh, I’m so bad.” But that got us off onto a pork chop and apple recipe which she’d tweaked. It sounded wonderful so I’m going to make it soon.

But let’s get back to the celebrities’ pet pig. As I got into the sleek new subway station at 86th Street, I thought of our national nightmare, now somewhat mitigated by the election results. And that thinking flowed into the celebrities and their pet pig.

The segment of our culture represented by those magazines, by the minor celebrities who are their fodder and by “reality” TV personalities who perform to a loose script, has spilled into our politics. Hasn’t it?

“Who will get the pet pig?” To a whole bunch of people, this question must sound like a challenging competition, on a par with figuring out for whom they will vote.

Fortunately, it seems clear the pet pig voters are in the minority in this country.

I am very, very glad. And I’ll let you know how the pork chops turn out.




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