GAR Week 7: Benjamin Franklette

At Long Last, Has the Golden Age Landed Upon Us?

“What’s more valuable than Gold? Diamonds. Than Diamonds? Eggs.”

HALLELUJAH! HE’S DONE IT! The nasally apricot who would be king has delivered the golden age! And it only took 7 weeks! Rome had to wait 726 years for the Pax Romana.

Truly, we are blessed to see such times!

Sooooo many cows were prodded, poked and violated in some way to bring you this picture… picture by author

Milk, after spiking at $3.50/gal at my local Walmart, has felt the shamelessly erratic caress of our copper-toned chief executive’s doll-like hands and settled back to a much more reasonable $2.72. I’ve already taken my $0.78 savings to the bank.

Thanks, donny!

Sooooo many screenshots went into the making of this image… image by author

Gas is as unpredictable as it’s ever been. However, I can feel it, feel it deep down in my marrow that president gazpacho¹ has cracked the code on oil prices. After hitting near milk level prices per gallon — $2.67, my local station is back to an oh-so-affordable $2.59/gal. With the additional $1.17 I saved on 14.6 gallons of gas, I topped off my daughter’s college fund.

Sooooo many eggs are in this picture…picture by author

The pièce de résistance for week seven, the golden key that unlocked the golden gate to this golden age was the price of a dozen eggs. I’m not sure what happened with the hens laying eggs in my area, but the cost fell sharply from $5.97 for a dozen large grade-A chicken embryos to $3.98. With the $1.99 in savings, I put a down payment on a fancy new Audi A6…things sure are looking up…ZOOM!

With gas so cheap, I’m getting Audi here…Photo by Velito on Unsplash

I felt so good about my financial future that I purchased a dozen large eggs and prepared an omelette and was greeted by that plucky philanderer, that incorrigible jack of all trades, Benjamin Franklin. He stared up at me like so many pareidolic pieces of toast with the visage of Jesus’s mom. Like the blessed Virgin, Benjamin materialized at that moment to assure me that everything would be okay, that I had made a sound investment in the 12 eggs².

For this boon, this deliciously symbolic introduction to an age of selective prosperity, aggressive homogeneity, and intellectual stagnation, I award the sentient sweet potato in the Oval Office 3 out of 5 Franklettes.

The Franklette was delicious, btw. Especially the crooked smile…

Three Franklettes, being composed of four eggs each, would call for a dozen eggs at the cost of $3.98 at my local Wally-World. Wouldn’t you know it, president kumquat’s expert handling of the economy saved me $1.99+$1.17+$0.78=$3.94. Coincidence? There are no coincidences in this idyllic era of almost tariffs and ruthless efficiency! Long be the days of the golden age of ‘Murica!