It just seems like my job as a human keeps getting harder. Everything I do or don’t do becomes a political statement. It seems like a lot of hard work to keep up with the politics of all of the companies I patronize. When did my waffle fry become a banner for any cause other than cholesterol lowering drugs?
Once politics, religion, and weird fetishes were kept private. Now you can make all sorts of assumptions about me based on my zip code, tax bracket, car, employer, and t-shirt color. I can’t leave the house without considering what message my lip gloss may be sending.
Do me a favor American CEO: keep politics unrelated to your product just that – unrelated to your product, exercise your right to free speech with your vote (or apparently all the money you want to throw after it), and leave the consumer out of it. And yes, I’d like fries with that.
Snooty Call 
Near as I can tell, pajama bottom fetishes must be a big thing in my zip code. Sadly, no Chik-A-Fil-A to boycott around here…or to not boycott…or whatever.
The vast majority of Chik-Fil-As are in the south. Should a prospective protestor drive 500 miles and stand outside refusing to go in? That’s a moral dilemma because by driving 500 miles even a Prius has emitted 562 pounds of carbon dioxide. It’s far easier to sit back, write a blog, and wallow in my own moral relativism.