Michael Bloomberg, mayor of New York City and expert on ancient Egyptian septic tank spelunking, has decided to wake the sleeping bear by decreeing that his health department shall henceforth make it harder for new mothers to feed their children.  He apparently has an issue with baby formula, and has directed that hospitals must lock it up with the Oxycontin.  In addition, when a new mother chooses to give formula to her baby, she will have to go through a lecture on breast-feeding each and every time she has the impertinence to make an independent decision about the nutrition of her child.

I look forward to seeing Mayor Bloomberg burned in effigy by the same women who chant “My body, my choice!” in front of the Supreme Court building every time someone mentions abortion or birth control in the political square.  If it’s a woman’s choice on whether to use birth control or carry a baby at all, it should be her choice on what she will feed that child so long as no harm comes to the child because of it.  Yeah, you can overfeed a child on formula, and it’s probably not as good for the baby as breastfeeding, but it’s not beer with a cigarette butt soaking in it either.

Will we see public browbeating by the mayor over what mothers choose to feed babies?  Will he make grand speeches about smuggled formula from other states with lax powdered milk laws?  Will he send agents into Walmarts in Virginia and Tennessee to see if they can successfully convince the clerk to sell them Enfamil?

This is yet another in a long list of things that Bloomberg has stuck his nose into where he had no business.  Smoking, trans-fats, guns, and drink sizes are just the examples I can think of off the top of my head.  He’s doing it for our own good, I’m sure, but someone needs to have the following conversation with him:

Bloomberg – And sunblock!  We have to shame people into taking sunblock showers every morning before they leave the house!  And we have to make employers provide free sunblock to their employees!

Interventionist – Mike, seriously, please put down the megaphone.  We’re all right here, for the love of God.  OK, thank you.  Now, we have to talk.

Bloomberg – About what?  Pet food?  I was thinking we ought to run all of the pet food vendors out of the city and force the people to feed their dogs rice and their cats Rice Krispies.  That way the cholesterol of the cities pets will plummet, and we won’t have so many dead animals raining down from the skyscrapers.

Interventionist – Sigh.  Listen, Mike, you have to stop.  You have a problem.  You’re addicted to controlling the details of other people’s lives.  It’s a common problem, but you’re an extreme example of a busybody.  What’s next, telling people what they have to wear?

Bloomberg – That’s right!  All men must wear knee-high lace-up patent leather boots so they have all the ankle support they could ever need!  Women will either have to wear sandals or 8 inch heels, depending on what the health department works best for them!  And everyone has to wear purple shirts on even days and red shirts on odd days!

Interventionist – My Lord, it’s worse than I thought.  Mike, these men are here to help you.  They’re going to take you to a nice quiet place where you can get your head together, and hopefully in a little while you’ll be able to come back and be whole.

Bloomberg – What?  But what about my plans to make all people in the city over six feet in height walk around on their knees to even out the height gap?  Or making kids drink from the Hudson to improve their immune systems after they’ve had immunizations for bubonic plague and South American laughing sickness?

Interventionist, walking away as the mayor is gently guided to the back of his limousine for a drive to a ‘country retreat’ – I hope this works.  If it doesn’t, he’s likely to come back and change the law so that he can get re-elected again, and I fear the city couldn’t survive that.