Earlier this week, Republican presidential candidate, Donald Trump, snidely attacked the Democratic presidential candidate by saying that Secretary Hillary Clinton has nothing more going for her than the “Woman Card."
Ms. Clinton's response to Trump's ignorance was perfection. Take a listen:
Trump, who has an ingrained need to debase every adversary (or, at least, try), further embarrassed himself the next morning when the Morning Joe show on MSNBC apparently lifted their self-imposed ban on his phone calls to the program.
Sounding as though he'd been out too late the night before, Trump slammed Clinton for the volume of her response to his jibe:
”I haven't quite recovered from her shouting that message...” he said. “I guess I'll have to get used to a lot of that over the next months.”
Of course, this is all standard behavior for the loutish Trump but I often wonder these days if there has ever been a public person who dared to express his mysogyny as openly and repeatedly as Trump.
”Ah yes, the woman’s card. I have been carrying one of these for years, proudly.
“It is great. It entitles you to a sizable discount on your earnings everywhere you go (average 21 percent, but can be anywhere from 9 percent to 37 percent, depending on what study you’re reading and what edition of the Woman's Card you have.)
“If you shop with the Woman Card at the grocery, you will get to pay 11 percent more for all the same products as men, but now they are pink.”
Petri's a funny woman. Here's some more from her about how the Woman Card works:
”Present the Woman Card to a man you have just met at a party and it is good for one detailed, patronizing explanation of the subject you literally got your PhD in.
“Offer it to someone on the red carpet and, instead of any substantive questions about your work, you will get a barrage of inquiries EXCLUSIVELY about what you are wearing.”
Well, to be fair, men on red carpets get the fashion questions too, but we get the point – and welcome it is.
As I was working my way through Ms. Petri's skewering of Trump, I realized that much the same could be written about an “Age Card.” And then, lo – I discovered she was way ahead of me:
”Hook up the Woman Card to your TV,” wrote Petri, “and you will get a barrage of commercials telling you that you did something wrong with your face and must buy ointment immediately so as not to become a Hideous Crone.
“Also, you are now expected to spend your whole life removing hair from your body, except for the areas of your body where your hair must be long and luxurious. (Do not get these two areas confused!)
“Unlike Man Cards, Woman Cards do not increase in value as they age. In fact, they depreciate. Do not collect Woman Cards. Even in mint condition, they are worthless.”
By god, Petri is on to something. It is hard to recall exactly, but I think I was issued my Old-Age Card about 12 or 14 years ago, just past by 60th birthday.
It comes with the advantages Ms. Petri lists except that when it's plugged into the TV, you are provided with the full range of “ointments” to fix society's litany of icky old-people flaws – you know, constipation, acid reflux, toe fungus, erectile dysfunction, constipation, COPD, overactive bladder, incontinence and vaginal dryness.
In the latest version of the Old-Age Card, you might even get all these remedies in one commercial break.
Among its other merits, the Old-Age Card allows you to be called geezer, coot, biddy, fogey and fossil along with honey, dearie and/or sweetie by all who are too rude to ask your name.
And unlike the Woman's Card, you may have noted that the Old-Age Card is issued to both sexes, doubling the cultural opportunities to malign 35 million people without consequence.
Best of all, it contains an amazing magical property: it makes you invisible to any and all who don't want to be reminded that they too will one day be issued an Old-Age Card.
It's a lot like the Woman Card but even more potent.