Ogling Back to the Future

Toby’s Right: I’ll wear my sunglasses at night, or any other time I feel like it

From the desk of Toby D. Gelman

I’m more outraged than my brother-in-law Joey getting denied parole—again—over the way the woke left are trying to turn back our future.

Why just the other day my eldest son Marty brought home his first girlfriend, Jennifer, for a summer BBQ. I was so proud of my boy. He’d always been considered the runt of the litter and to see him strut into the backyard with a “Perfect 10” was something special. Jennifer was everything one should look for in a partner: long wavy brown hair, slim body, and the face of an 80s movie star, and a 90s made-for-TV leading lady. I even took the truck for a double wax so Marty and her could take it up to the lake for the weekend.

I bought Beyond-Meat Sausages and I Can’t Believe They’re not Baby Back Ribs ribs because Jennifer is a vegan—whatever the heck that is. My wife Greta whipped up her world-famous sweet potato salad. Let me tell you, friends, you ain’t tasted nothing until you’ve dipped your tongue into Greta’s thick, creamy sauce.

Marty told us he met Jennifer online. Now I’m a pretty hip dad, but I’ll never understand online dating. I mean who knows who you’re talking to on those things. For all you know, it’s some Ukrainian sleazeball named Zelensky hitting you up for the family fortune. Of course, Greta and I met the old fashioned way: in the parking lot of a YMCA dance where we slurped from a flask she swiped from her old lady’s liquor cabinet.