Here Kitty, Kitty

This is one of those times that I sit down to post an entry and have absolutely no idea what I am going to write about. Here goes. . . .

We'll continue with Cal the dog. She killed two mice outside while I was watching her. Now, I've known for a couple years that a small rodent slithers under a railroad tie next to my back steps. I thought they were little moles, and I really didn't care. They never messed with me, and there wasn't anything in the house, so I didn't mess with them. Then along came Cal.

She's a good hunter. She pounces like a cat after things, just like Bernie. I don't recall Bernie ever killing a mouse, though I do recall me and her laying on the bed one day in Tahoe, and SNAP! The mouse trap I'd set under the bed went off, mouse now attached. Anyway, Cal was doing some pouncing in the plants I have outside my back door, and eventually she came out with a mouse dead in her mouth. That was cool. I coaxed her to drop it, then I gave it a proper funeral--I put it in a plastic bag, knotted the bag, then tossed it in the trash can. The next day, Cal went straight back to the weeds, and within 15 seconds emerged with another mouse. Good girl, Cal! By now, I figured that those were little mice I'd seen skirmishing all those times. I'm smart like that. This second mouse, though, Cal didn't quite kill. It was in Cal's mouth squealing. Cal would drop it, the mouse would squirm. Cal would pick it up again but never quite killed it. So I went and got the shovel, managed to get Cal to drop the mouse, pushed Cal out of the way, and WHACK! Whack on the mouse, with the trick being to kill it without blowing up it's blood and guts everywhere, because I had to dispose of the dead mouse. But it wasn't yet dead. Dammit! WHACK. Now it was dead. And it wasn't exploded.

So I have mice nesting pretty damned close to my house, though they've never come in--yet. I saw another today out on the common sidewalk, outside my house. Two things about this: I should probably stop hurling bird seed in my yard when I fill bird my bird feeders. I did this for the squirrels. They're around anyway, so what the heck. I assume mice eat bird food, I mean, why not? So that practice will cease. Second, I need to borrow a cat, or do I? When Cal was here, there was a black cat on my back steps. (I don't care about black cat superstitions, I like them--at least as far as cats go--so don't start with the bad luck, evil spirts, or whatever.) A couple days ago, while planting flowers, the same black cat was on my front steps. Tonight when I came home from a walk around the 'hood, the same black cat was goofing off in the bushes along the side of my house. So I have a cat, and a hunter cat at that.

Kitty may get some milk next time I see it around. Then I'll sort of have a cat, a hunter cat to kill the mice, or at least scare them off. A cat is no Cal nor any dog, but a cat that kills my mice is a friend of mine.

So here's to me having a cat, a killer black cat at that.

Jeeeeeeesus Christ, Cal . . .

***This is Calilou, my buddy.***

I played hockey tonight for the first time in a few months, and only the third time in the past 14 months. Time flies! I've been running and of course riding my bike. Nothing, though, prepares you to go skate your butt off except, well, skating your butt off. I'll sleep well tonight. Wish me luck getting up in the morning!

I dogsat this past weekend. That's her, above Calilou. She's an Akita, nine months, about 80 pounds. Cal, or as I sometimes call her, "Calilouuuuuuu"--pretty much howling the "louuuuuu" part--is a pretty darned good dog for her age. The first night she was slightly restless, though not terribly. She did wake me up at straight-up 4am by licking my face and getting into a play posture once my eyes opened. Uh, no. She did it again at 6am. Uh, no. Now, 730am . . . okay! That was Thursday night, and the following two nights she was right at home and slept through the night. I brought up Bernie's bed for her, and to my surprise, Cal actually used it! Dogs are so cute curled up on a bed.

All in all, she reminded me a lot of Bernie. Her face, her size, her mannerisms, her tendency to sleep under furniture--creating her own den, basically--her insistence on following me from room to room, up the stairs and back down the stairs, etc. We walked a lot. She's a pretty good walker! That it was really hot here on Friday and Saturday helped matters, calming her down a lot. She was a hot dog. I really enjoyed having her. She's my buddy.

And of course, it made me consider getting a dog. I miss having one. My home is boring! Alas, there's lots going on and I have some other decisions to make before I go down the path of puppy pleasure. Besides, I still really enjoy being able to, say, stay at work late then go straight to hockey without having to worry about a lonely, beautiful creature waiting for me at home! So dogless now I am, once again.

The end.

Winds of Change

I am 43 years old now. I feel no different today than I have any other day in my life. In other words, count me out of the camp of people who think they are getting "old". To a point, I view age as relative to your lifespan--and, at least until a person becomes terminally ill, none of us knows what our lifespan will be. If I am to die within the next few years, then I am old now. Get it? It's why cliches like "live in the moment" make sense. You never know what the next will bring.

Things are changing, though. A friend of mine has cancer, and while that's not necessarily an age-specific issue, it's the first time a "non-elder" has ever said "I have cancer" to me. Also, icons are dying--icons from my youth, more specifically.

It struck me pretty hard to hear that MCA from the Beasties died. I'm not unique in saying this, but I LOVE the Beastie Boys. I first heard them in Ron Kwentus' mom's VW van, I suppose in 1986, the year Licensed to Ill was released. Safe to say that I and my friends did our best Beastie Boys imitations every day for the next five years, and I still do a fair imitation to this day. If you listen to Paul's Boutique, which is one of the coolest albums ever, there is an insert of a Paul's Boutique promo--"The best in men's clothing, Paul's Boutique . . ." It goes on to give the phone number. I called that number and said, "Is this Paul's Boutique?" The guy on the other end said, "Fuck you."

In their beginning, to us outsiders the Beasties were the "cool kids" from New York, who along with the Bunkers, James Buchanan High, John Gotti, the planes from LaGuardia over Shea, The Boss and Yankee Stadium, and Ron Duguay's hair were New York.

Now, a Beastie is gone; the Bunker clan morphed into a bunch of Friends; and Epstein, Gotti, Shea, The Boss, and Yankee stadium are dust. At least we still have Duguay's hair.

Rest in peace Adam Yauch a.k.a. MCA. You and the Beasties Boys as we know them will be missed.

One thing I've noticed over the past few years is that there are things that I used to really enjoy, well, kind of suck now. Thankfully, riding my bike like an idiot isn't one of them. Part of growing up, evolving and growing, is losing some interests and replacing them. Also, my conclusion based on 43 years of observation is that this world kind of sucks. That doesn't mean life sucks, but what it means is it's really easy to get overwhelmed by all the crap and garbage all of us have to put up with, directly or indirectly, no matter who we are or what we do. Some people, certainly, are dealt a harsher hand, and I have no complaints about my life. However, the world as a whole kind of sucks. It is a power-tripping battle day in and out. Good luck.

So I like being older. I worry about plenty, but the big picture for me is that not a lot really matters. Be honest, productive, and caring, and the rest will take care of itself--and even if it doesn't, you can rest easy at night, and when you rest easy at night, every thing else goes a little bit smoother. So here's to earning a bit of wisdom with each day.

Times are changing, and the next 12 months or thereabout will have plenty of change for me. I do not know what all of them will be, but I have some ideas. Stay tuned for details as they unfold.