Who was that guy???

Have you ever met yourself?  Not like some sort of "know thyself" touchy-feely exercise. I mean really meet someone, a complete stranger, who is essentially you at a younger age. I have and it's spooky. When it happened I was immediately struck by the parallel life choices and the coincidental events that led the two of us strangers  to be at the same place at the same time. After it was over, even now, I am somewhat amazed and wonder how this happened. I perceive myself as being a little different from most guys based on my interests, life experiences, sense of humor, etc.


I was on a solo vacation trip, over 1,000 miles from home, and had spent the day visiting a few places that appeal to me but would not appeal to many other tourists. That's often the way I travel. I might be considered a little bookish and perhaps overly thorough when I plan a trip. Planning is half the fun but I am also just as likely to strike off on an unplanned tangent way off the beaten path. On this day I had spent several hours driving up a dusty canyon road to visit an old archaeological site that used to be famous but has since been pushed aside by other discoveries. Once I got back to civilization I decided to stop at a microbrewery close to my hotel. I sat at the bar and struck up a casual and sporadic conversation with the bar maid -- I brew beer and we talked about different styles and what they were brewing. What they had on tap was pretty good and the place was a beer geek's paradise. They even had a blackboard where they recorded the brew details, dates and specific gravity....really.


After a while a young guy in his mid 20s took the bar stool next to me and ordered a beer and started reading a book. The book was 'The Last Stand: Custer, Sitting Bull, and the Battle of the Little Bighorn' by Nathaniel Philbrick. This is not a book I've read but one I'd probably like to read and by an author I have read. I asked him how the book was and we ended up talking at length about authors and various books. We had read the same books in many instances and some others by the same authors. If you have ever met an old friend after many months or years apart and began talking like you had never been separated --- this was almost what the experience was like.  It turned out that we had the same interests. He was a government researcher who had moved to this city a while back and was about to get married in the next few months. This is somewhat close to my own experience at the same age. We talked for quite a while and had several beers. We talked about our work careers and job changes and hobbies and the more we talked the more it seemed like I was talking to myself at an age almost 40 years younger than I am now. Pretty soon it was time to go find something to eat so we parted ways and said our goodbyes. I have no idea who this guy was but as I left I really wanted to tell him to hang in there and stick with his plans and that it was all going to work out OK in the end.

The Miracle Cat - November 16, 2011

After a life-long struggle and two miraculous recoveries, we finally had to euthanize Jill's cat, Iris. Iris was the sweetest cat I have ever known although she was a major challenge to manage and she had a very strong stubborn streak. She was born into adversity and was discovered alone and lost in Washington Park at about 4 or 5 weeks old and taken to the city's animal shelter. Jill adopted her and brought her home. This was a very sad time at my house as Joanne had just died a few weeks previously and Jill and I were deep in grief and not functioning well. Iris helped us to get focused and served as a diversion when we really needed it. Although she seemed like a normal kitten she had a few quirks....like singing in the litter box and her funny way of walking.

Watson didn't know what to think at first but soon took her under his wing...and his paw...and tried to be a surrogate dad. He taught her how to be a cat and things that only a mom-cat could pass on to a kitten. She followed him around like his shadow. Sometimes they would get into spats that took a long time to settle. I had a squirt water bottle that I had to use to break up a few wrestling matches. Watson was so big that Iris would often start to scream whenever he approached and looked like he was going to use her as a toy. Nobody was ever hurt in these confrontations and Iris came out stronger through the experience. She eventually started initiating the wrestling matches so we decided it was just rough play.

Iris was a slow grower and didn't gain weight as fast as she should. We had to wait a while to get her spayed and declawed but she finally went to the vet and had the surgery done. She was never the same cat afterwards. She came home disoriented and depressed and apparently blind or at least mostly blind. We were never 100% certain that she was totally blind all of the time because it seemed that she had some vision...maybe could see dark and light or shadows at some times but she eventually gave up on seeing and became a functional blind cat. As she grew older it was amazing how she managed and people would not know she was blind unless we told them.

Iris had seen three Vets during her life and each one seemed to have their own theory but no one actually knew what her problem was. Not only was she blind but her funny way of walking as a kitten turned into a full-fledged hip dysfunction as an adult. As she grew she developed her own way of walking so that she was hunched up in the back and essentially walked on her hind toes and claws. Her hips seemed to be deformed as she grew older.

Jill and Iris moved into a two-story apartment for a year and then Jill bought her house which was also two-story. Iris memorized the layout of each place as well as my house so she was able to manage wherever she was. She was able to go up and down stairs and even able to jump up on the couch during her early adulthood. The stairs at her new house offered a challenge because they turned 90-degrees and she had to be very careful to hug the one wall so she didn't tumble around the tight corner....but she figured it out after a few hard falls.

Iris and Wormie #1

I can't go into all of the health problems she had but there were a couple times where we didn't think she would pull through and we were afraid we would have to put her down...but she struggled back. Her last two years were her happiest since she was the Queen of her house and seemed to have everything under control. That means she had things the way she wanted them....not the way Jill wanted them or even how a normal cat would want them. She was able to confine her toilet to the sun porch but often (and later, usually) didn't make it to the litter box.  Jill was patient most of the time but there were a few yelling matches and Iris could yell right back.  Iris would go anywhere she pleased but didn't like the basement when Jill would sweep her up and run downstairs during storm warnings. She had little hide and seek games with the TV and stereo cabinets and she adopted her little friend, Wormie, a knitted toy she would drag around from place to place.

She finally wore out at four and a half years old and went into a decline that she couldn't bounce back from. There had been other serious declines but her spirit was strong and she fought her way back. This time it was different and in her own way she told us she was done. She had a good life and maybe even a better life than some normal cats. At any rate she had the best life that she could have had given her limitations. We all learned a lot from her and she always kept her sweet disposition even up to the end.


Iris was a creature of habit, like most cats, and she had a set routine. She knew when Jill would be home from work or school and would wait in the middle of her rug when it was time for her to come home. Mornings started with Iris outside Jill's bedroom door -- sometimes impatiently waiting for her to get up. It didn't seem like much but sometimes those are the things that you miss the most.

Halloween Season

The Halloween season is here...not to be confused with the Harvest season or the Christmas season or the Thanksgiving season which seem to all run simultaneously these days.  Halloween used to be a kid's holiday with a little bit of ritualistic charm but now it is a business.

I must be one of the few people who just don't get it. I enjoy the change in seasons from summer to fall and the things that we do to prepare for colder weather. Every living thing seems to go through this transition. Cows and horses and even house cats get a winter coat of heavier fur. I always put on thick layers of supple fat and, unfortunately, it doesn't seem to come off when it gets warmer. We harvest apples and other produce. The trees change color and drop their leaves...which I refuse to rake. My Hickory tree has been dropping its nuts for weeks and the squirrels have been having a great time. Now its leaves are turning bright yellow and will fall on the next windy or rainy day. We had our first frost last night.

Okay...but what is it that causes us to celebrate Halloween the way we do. Some folks have gone a little crazy over the holiday. Where one carved pumpkin would be fine, they have a dozen. Houses are decked out in orange Halloween lights. We have two large costume stores that pop up in September like toadstools. People wire their front yards for sound and then broadcast creepy music or ghoulish sounds at night.

I try...really, I do try to get into it but I always see it as something that other people do so it is half-hearted. This year I actually bought a Happy Halloween pennant that hangs from my mailbox. I always buy a couple pumpkins and stick them out on the front porch with some other fall decorations but I very rarely will carve a Jack-o-lantern and when I do it always looks happy, with a smiley face. I can't seem to make them look scary.

I actually understand the Day of the Dead thing in Mexico or other Hispanic-culture places. But Halloween seems pointless. We really don't know where it comes from. We aren't commemorating dead ancestors or anything like that. Even the old Celtic festival of the same season had nothing to do with the dead or a satanic figure. I know that some churches or church leaders have a dim view of Halloween but I don't even see the point of that.

The only good part of Halloween is the actual Trick or Treat parade that comes to the front door. Years ago the old pagan holiday morphed into a kid's celebration with costumes and candy. As a kid, I admit I enjoyed every year's trek up and down the street in whatever costume I managed to cobble together lugging my grocery bag full of candy. As an adult I enjoy greeting the neighborhood kids at the door and handing out fist-fulls of high fructose corn syrup nuggets of one kind or another. I even enjoy the older kids whose voices are changing and barely put up the effort at a costume because they need one more last childhood fling...God knows where they will be in five years. 

The adult side of the holiday seems to be morphing into a weird commercial enterprise. I think that's what takes away from the enjoyment and robs the holiday of it's old-fashioned charm. 

I'm turning into a Parrot

I can't help myself. I'm sure that I'm not the only person with this "problem" but I don't know how common my "affliction" is. I'm not a trained linguist or even versed in foreign languages other than a bare minimum of Spanish and Italian. When I go to a foreign country or even to a place in the US where I hear people speaking something other than my own local version  of English I end up parroting their speech patterns after only a short period of time.

I'm from Missouri -- in my family that's Missouree not Missouruh -- and living smack dab in the middle of the US I've always been fascinated by the different American accents. We commonly encounter people speaking Minnesotan or Texan or Chicagoan or North Carolinian. There is N'Orleaneeze and Baltimorean and New Yorker and New Jerseyish and a couple Louisiana dialects depending on the amount of Cajun-ness. Arkansan has kind of a mountain and delta version. Missouri is the same way with urban and rural patterns and there are differences between St. Louis and Kansas City...especially among women.  I can often tell roughly where someone is from if I talk to them long enough. There are exceptions (Ohio and Indiana) and there are places with such an influx of variations...like California and some parts of Florida...that I can't seem to figure it out.

This fascination leads me to unintentionally picking up some of those speech patterns. I start using a hybrid version of my normal speaking patterns and pronunciations mixed with the newly acquired stuff.

It's not just American English dialects that suck me in. I have a friend from Aberdeen Scotland and another from Lviv in Ukraine. I had a fellow working with me for a while from the Ural Mountains in Russia and another from the Philippines. I seem to be willing to surrender my own speech patterns and habits to anyone. I went to Italy and came home sounding like I just moved to the US from a village in Umbria.

I don't mind it. I'm just surprised by how quickly I take on these other patterns and I hope that others don't think that I'm mocking them or making fun of their English.

However, now I am a little disconcerted about a recent development. I am a fan of The Big Bang Theory, a CBS TV situation comedy, and look forward to seeing it every week. If you are unfamiliar with TBBT look here for a clip (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k0xgjUhEG3U&feature=related) . They recently started showing it in re-runs for an hour each evening on Fox TV. Guess what. Now I'm starting to sound like Dr. Sheldon Cooper. This will never do...maybe there is some kind of therapy.  Soft kitty. Warm kitty. Little ball of fur....