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Springing Into Summer

Spring fever’s blog, trip planning date: 130528: 18

[I keep shifting tenses and if I go back to make them consistent, I’ll probably get lazy, save the file and forget to go back to it. So t/here you go.]

I got the summer edition of my local weekly and I poured thru it looking for things to do this summer. The past couple of years I was such a tight ass with money I didn’t do anything, except for pay off a credit card. That was quite worth it

This summer I’m deciding to “get back to the innocence.” There are so many things that have been ruined, made me jaded, by news fearing terrorism, documentaries exposing the evils of people, drug culture, manipulative women, chemicals in food, reality shows, class warfare, etc.

It’s also been a good writing exercise, looking at all the age groups for when we had the best times before the shitty thing(s) happened.

When you’re a kid at home, you get to play with toys (I‘m old, pre video games), look at tv to see cartoons. When I was a kid, afternoon tv wasn’t tabloid trash, it was reruns of black and white abbott Costello movies, our gang, etc.

Some kids were lucky enough that their parents took them to theme parks over summer or spring break or x-mas. Some parents just stuck their kids in summer camp, left to teenagers who totally should not be in charge of kids. Others were left to fend riding bikes around the neighborhood.

If you got a bike for x-mas, the whole neighborhood opened up. You get to cruise with your friends, hang out in front of the liquor store. You can pedal to the mountains and stream and parks. I remember it rained on us one time and we thought it was cool, like an epic battle against the wind and rains, like we saw pirates do on tv. Of course you go to the mall, arcades, the movies too at the cheap dollar theater. I think those are replaced with netflix and red box for the most part, sad.

In high school, if you passed you’re driving and got a car from your parents, then the whole town opened up! On the weekend we could drive to the beach! There was one main drag we went to cruise on the weekend.

There were a couple near me. On the east side there was the infamous King & Story, the low rider capitol of the south bay in the late 70’s. While people in new york were at discos, people in my hood were bouncing cars and getting into it with cops where I grew up.

A historical marker situated along El Camino Real.

A historical marker situated along El Camino Real. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The other was a section of the King’s Highway, El Camino Real, a section of California route 82. I remembered it went from Wolfe road in Cupertino, where everyone circled back and sometimes cops picked that as their spot to nab cruisers. The south-east end was debatable, it changed. But it seemed to be blocks ease of the Lawrence expressway intersection, exactly where is the debatable part. It was to deter the cop checkpoint situation.

Next thing you know, most people went to college and all the holidays became spring break, x-mas break, summer or as soon as finals were over. Then we took road trips or flew. The country opened up to us.

A big exotic thing in the bay area was to fly to Cancun or Hawaii, which I never understood. The stories were the same of how we got drunk at the beach, bought shot glasses and screwed up trying to get laid. I did all that in Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk for much cheaper. and got to go to Monterey when I felt like taking a more “mature, cultured” trip.

Santa Cruz, California - Boardwalk

Santa Cruz, California – Boardwalk (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have some ideas on what to do this spring to get those exploration feelings back. Haven’t even gotten into after college/ 20 somethings trips yet…

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2013/05/28 Posted by | Single malts | , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

VEGAS Downtown and the Strip, the adventures continue!

TRAVELER’s Blog, bus, car and foot date 130409:11

I’ve waited a whopping 2 1/2 years to get back to Las Vegas. That’s a small number. How about 130 some odd weeks? 933 days is closer. Assuming I have a generous 8 hours of sleep a night for an insomniac, that’s 14,928-ish hours. I could get into minutes and seconds, I’ve felt each one crawl on in molasses time, but I already used my calculator more than I do on my accounting Monday mornings.

I wanted to write a pre- blog before the trip about the anticipation and all the packing anxieties, but eh. Everything turned out different than planned for the most part. There were a ton of things I packed I didn’t even use and a ton of places I researched that didn’t get done. The things I actually wound up doing instead was quite… limited until later on.

There were so many wonderful things about Vegas I’m happy to report about. I kept my trip under wraps for the most part until I actually went. People have their own usual things they post about and are usually focused more on that.

I suppose the bad news first, the recession continued to hit many businesses I loved and close them down. But like I noticed in the past few years, some of the big businesses I wish had closed locations didn’t, they still churn out garbage and cattle feeds off the image their commercials inundate on tv. Their commercials are on the superbowl every year and also make consumerist’s march madness bracket every year.

I originally moved away from the bay area because I got sick of seeing my favorite childhood places disappear due to change of new owners and management. I wanted to leave while I had memories in tact. I expected Vegas to be a place of change. I just never expected to be such a crusader of small businesses and get to know their families.

One thing that did surprise me was the new changes that I supported and there were many. I got to check out a lot of places I’d heard opened after I left. I now understand what locals see in Cosmo that reviews and pictures couldn’t capture online. I’ll attempt to capture it in my review.

There are so many new developments downtown and I appreciated the ones I went to. There were others I intentionally stayed away from. I wanted to go to places with the older East Fremont feelings I know, the one that isn’t being bought up by that shoe company playing Monopoly with businesses that have been there decades longer.

I’m the biggest fan of Downtown and Mayor Oscar’s attempts to revitalize it (even the big empty location that the landlord has been noted for screwing up). But the shoe company is gobbling up property that they don’t have plans for yet. And the huge, glaring red flag no one wants to mention is that said company had 3 retail locations that eventually failed- years before the recession hit.

Wow, this’ll have to be a 2/ multi part-er. I haven’t scratched the surface on all the places I went! I got to explore nips deep and it was magnanimous!

2013/04/09 Posted by | Single malts | , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

What the hell do you want now? Inspirational writing 3 of 10

Wanter’s Blog, desire date 130315:23

So we have all these people in your story. Do they all just sit and watch tv all day? Sit in a coffee shop and stare at their phones or laptops?

NO, all these people want something. Something big, a story worth writing about often involves someone’s life work or life goal. And chances are the story/ book/ movie is about what each of them want and what they’re willing to do about it, or the consequences of not doing something. Or likely you’ll show how people screw things up.

A well crafted story will combine steps 1 & 2. An introduction of a character will instantly start piling a list of things they want or have to do (by the end of the story). Certain action figure/ video game/ comic book driven stories often pile on all the good guys and bad guys in rapid succession, which I think is hack. You can tell they‘re trying to get as many action figures out of it as they can.

Each person should get more time to develop than a parade of 1) hey, I wanna get laid, 2) hey, I’m the tough guy who’s going to kick ass for our cause, 3) hey, I’m the sarcastic sidekick, 4) hey, I’m the girlfriend of the protagonist and mother of the group. Yeah, these are overused story elements, the better writer can turn these elements on their ass and make something no one has seen before. Yes, we know now the girlfriend kicks ass and the guys are shlubby wimps. You know people who defy movie/ tv stereotypes, use them!

This is the part of the story where the leading male/ female sings the ballad of how they have to save their country, but they also want crazy sex and if there were only someone out there that can help with both.

Sometimes it’s not all about the big goals. There was an episode of Community based on the group looking for a purple gel pen, and 1 person (Annie) basically holding everyone hostage til she gets her favorite thing back. But out of it came a lot of discussion and revelations from the group.

A good story can have people on the same “side” that want things that conflict with each other. A lot of times it comes in the form of a competition, or someone has to get the 1 promotion. Tickets are selling fast for a show and who can get a pair?

Sometimes the need is an accident that disturbs our character’s every day life. There’s an earthquake. A couple is having problems, the wife gets on a plane and then it’s hijacked.

And chances are a protagonist will even be content with the way things are (at a “low“ level). This thing that happens disturbs that and they have no choice but to act. Many characters have their caretakers actually killed or living area literally wiped out. They have nowhere else to go. They have no family left. The crew is enjoying their snacks when they get dispatched to an emergency call. You and all your friends get fired instead of laid off so the bought out company wouldn’t be responsible for your unemployment.

The real trick is to not broadcast the ending by the character’s need. We know the single guy starring with Drew Barrymore is going to wind up with her at the end. We know the poor guy will get a job and money. We know the team that can’t get a win will take the championship. The trick is to make the goal interesting enough to hang in there, but there may be an unexpected result. A whodunnit is only good when you can’t figure it out in the first 20 minutes.

Okay, so now what do we do, team leader?

 

2013/03/15 Posted by | Writing course in 10 sessions | , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Dewey Readmore Books, Iowa’s library cat

 

I owned the book Dewey for a few years now & “never got around to read it.” A few weeks ago at the library, I ran into an interesting situation, I saw it there in the audio CD section. Was it cheating to check it out when I owned the book? I checked it out, thinking I could listen to it when I putz around the house,  just like when I listen to pod casts.

 

For some reason, this was a good time to rea- hear the book, when I’m trying to recover from the loss of my cat. I also think had I read the book earlier, before my Bunn Bunn had problems, I may have even had insight on what to do.

 

Dewey Readmore Books

Dewey Readmore Books (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

I spent a lot of time online trying to diagnose her symptoms, translating her vet blood work results with online searches of parameters. I think searching any medicine we’re prescribed will turn us all into hypochondriacs. To this day, I get upset thinking that the cat meds worsened her conditions, possibly causing her seizures. I get angry, frustrated and I still feel helpless. I will always think I could have dome something more, but I then always have to think that I did more than anyone that ever knew her would have.

 

There are similar stories I heard about Dewey than I had with my Bunn, but after I was really happy that I had plenty of my own that were different, unique to me. There are plenty of cat books at the library and on Amazon that I’ll be buying in the months ahead, no doubt with similar stories.

 

It’s interesting how people’s stories about their pets are far different than anything Hollywood would lead you to believe. Cats apparently are only there to hiss and warn you not to go into an area. Dogs basically rescue people or are attack a guy if he dates in any rom com. But most pets, you just look at, share cuddles, feed and clean their poop. They sit with you when you get away from the world. They’re also the things we leave behind when we go on vacation, without a lot of thought.

 

There have been some writing books that have helped me out with some issues, for some reason developing schizophrenia is good for character developing arguments. Dewey gave me a couple of insights on writing about my cat. Listening an audio book also gave me insights. Descriptions  and the feelings they give have a lot to do with the voice of the reader. It’s like when you find out a script was written for an actor in mind. It’s tough, but rarely, I can pick out when a character was supposed to be an Eddie Murphy type. He was supposed to be in a couple of star treks and Ghostbusters. It’s easy to tell that Slimer was written for (later a tribute to) Belushi.

 

Slimer

Slimer (Photo credit: Tim.Deering)

 

Part of why I want to be an author is that I want something to last beyond facebook or twitter statuses. To be a writer, I have to consider eventually getting an e-reader, since I’ll have to research publishing for that media. It also scares me. I bought a digital camera before they were in every phone and after 2 generations, the family trusted Kodak brand took a dive. I alone may not have prevented it, but I contributed to it. I used to think it was cute when sci fi movies featured of of those old “book” things, but it’s really happening like so much other dystopic predictions.

 

Vicki Myron did it. She was able to tell millions how much her cat meant to her and what an impact Dewey had on a community that I wasn’t able to relate to before, being a city man. I knew farmers were getting ousted by industry, I may have known the depths. But it was another thing to have it described in detail over a decade while I was bar hopping and playing in my disposable lifestyle.

 

Part of why I want to write is to tribute my cat and those important to me, those that are no longer around but helped me thru so many things. I have been the life of the party in a few circles. I feel so far from that person now, but I’m able to leap back into it, the eye of the festival when I write about what I should have learned from those times.

 

I know, I need to write more. But I also don’t want to wear out my welcome by writing downer blogs also. It’s tougher to write with a 3 beer attitude when you can’t afford it. I do know that’s what people want to read, my crazy Vegas adventures. And I have to sit on a lot of things until a press someday shoots out a book I can hold in my hands and dedicate to the few of you for being there the whole time, and share the memories of my cat Bunn Bunn you don‘t know yet.

 

2012/09/18 Posted by | Single malts | , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

A life after my best friend died

My blog, posting date 120729.07:

Since my last blog, I’ve written many lists, 2 sided sheets, of my cat. Every time I do something and I have to remind myself she isn’t around, I write it down. It’s important to me.

I know I’m going to need to check out some books about grieving for a loss weds when the library is open again. This is the problem I’m having:

2 years ago I thought I could find a better job to improve my situation for the 4 biggest things in my life: my g/f, my kitty, our apartment & the city I loved. Today I look for any job, including shitty ones- just out of proximity, without any of the 4 biggest things in my life that were motivation. I don’t know how to think for myself.

I love my cat, it’s difficult to wake up and realize she didn’t wake me up for food, that I got 6 hours of sleep uninterrupted. I kept my list of things to do list very light for a week to mourn. I went out one day to just walk around, check out pet stores, look at trees, look for breezes to envelop me. I now notice every animal around me, birds, cats, people walking their dogs.

My fb and twit pages changed a bit. Like my computer’s desktop and screensaver, my cat became most of my avatars. I don’t have the frustration and anger to post my chicken little/ Don Quixote warnings to an uncaring friends list about how institutions are writing policy to keep them richer and us that don’t make $250K/ yr poorer. People don’t give a shit when they’re entertained and kept in a comfort zone of web phones, cable tv and adding to their hobby collection. Wow, frustration just made a little comeback.

I write with my cat looking over me in my mind. She would ask why are things this way? Why can’t I do things in my little world without these outside things hassling me? why don’t people learn with the facts right there? It’s a lot of what I ask myself, only I wonder why other people have their denial blinders on. We can’t do anything, wait for someone else to do something about it. Meanwhile those with suits deep in their protected offices do.

Monday, I’m going to have to leave the condo to go out to look for work again. I understand that I also have new opportunities that I couldn’t do before. My mother may be willing to help me with a bus ticket so I can check out opportunities in other cities, now that I could go someplace, say S.F. or L.A. or anywhere else. I can make a list of things to apply at or have friends that have a couch that needs holding down for a week.

I know I have to move on, but I feel guilty about it or I should at least continue honorably to tribute my Bunn. There are strange things I’m doing around the condo, most cleaning and basically some things I hadn’t done before and I question it. I do chores to keep busy and not dwell. but I question why I didn’t do them before, my cat didn’t keep me from doing these things and yet I feel an ounce of guilt of why didn’t I?

Before I got my cat, I had a lot of condo parties so I wouldn’t feel alone. I can’t go down that path again, mostly because the new neighbors and HOA would take issue even if I could get estranged “friends” to come over. As it was then as it is now, people would come over to trash a house for a party, but they aren’t here for me during hard times like now.

Books give me advice that’s hard to apply, I see it as a major part of the problem. It’s basically “go to what makes you happy, stay away from negativity.” I understand this and have seen it. I understand a bunch of excuses why people don’t want to spend time with me anymore. I’m not at my best.

But what happened to doing the work for friends or loved ones? Don’t leave someone just because they’re in the hospital with a new permanent condition. Show some respect. I’m always told to stay in there and help and I have done that for years, backed people up. Driving out in the cold on my motorcycle, buying tickets to their things when it cost me money when we could hang out for free.

I go thru the toughest shit in my life and everyone’s too busy. And you want me to come around when it’s x-mas so I can watch everyone trade presents when I can’t afford anything? People can’t do the hard work anymore and the bullshit is they say those struggling to get by need to when they are, we are- I AM doing more work already, than when I HAD a job.

So, I’m supposed to go on without, stay away from their negativity. I’m already staying away from mall/ China consumers and politically inactive. I’ve talked about zombie movies before. The world seems to have become this. You put your faith in someone or some institution. Then one day you find out they have someone on the side, or they’ve trapped steer in small holding pens your whole life. Everyone turns one day and I have to pack up my shotguns and wander in to the next town, suspicious of everyone until someone proves them self. Is that what stay away from negativity is? Is that what life is? I go to a lot of community events, as they are signs that people care while everyone else watches tv, internet, their phone- some screen at home.

The one thing I do realize now, for better or worse, I have to move on and I now can expand my horizons out of this condo again. By the time I can save enough to move out, I should be able to make peace with the kitty graveyard of 2 out front. I have Bunn & Fuzz in my heart and mind. they have to live vicariously thru me. It’s like McCoy with Spock’s katra inside him. My cats have affected me for the better and now I carry them inside of me, the last part of them to live.

For a couple of months, when I go out, I don’t just look for a job. Now I look for a place to belong. I look for a crew that laughs and is “good” together. In every movie is the wacky rag, tag crew. But in real life when you go to a business, everyone can’t wait to get the hell out and leave. I’ve had jobs that turn into that. Somewhere people have to want to be together, not with their back in the corner waiting for anyone else to turn zombie.

I don’t have love at home, now. Until I can afford to keep a pair of adopted cats, I have to find a support group that will welcome me, work or otherwise.

2012/07/29 Posted by | Single malts | , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

I lost my poor, poor baby girl

Mourner’s blog, kitty date 120724.09

Sunday morning, my cat who let me share my life with her passed away. She shared her life with me. A lot of this blog is going to be things I cried out to the close people I talked on the phone with the past day or so.

You may think she’s just a cat, but to me she was my companion that accompanied me thru the struggle of moving 8 times, having 6-8 jobs, 4-5 vehicles, a few girlfriends and a couple of states.

It’s safe to say a lot of people have put up with my shit for 17 years, but she always got the better of me. No matter how mad I got for the mess she made, she would respond with rubbing her head on my arm or leg or meow at me saying “pick me up and hug me, please? Pet my back. Scratch the back of my head.” She disarmed me faster than any human could. And that’s a big lesson for me to learn about dealing with others for the rest of my life.

I sensed her time coming, but there were some things. I couldn’t afford the vets and even if I did, did I really want the vets to cut her up and drug her to something that wouldn’t recognize me anymore? I learned a lot from watching my mother and uncle dealing with trying to drag my Grandfather to convalescent homes, where they wouldn’t allow him his cigars and white port. His temper went up and health down. Eventually, they relented and decided to let him sit in his living room, watch tv and drink his “medicine” and smoke his cigars. Go out HIS way.

When I had to move from Vegas to protect my girlfriend from living with the unemployed I eventually lost her to her ongoing life while mine was frozen. No matter how many times I applied, no matter how many books I read on psychology, happiness, motivation, coaching, business, marketing, Zen Buddhism, and war stratagems, I could not get a job to save my life. That first month back to my mother’s condo snapped me into a reality where I didn’t have to remind my girlfriend what needed to be done anymore. I was relieved, but soon saddened by this. I had to learn how to shop at the grocery store by myself, without considering what we’d get.

I still had my baby girl. Whatever odds were against me that was compounded by being “out of state” even though I returned was made worse by month after month of unemployment. When my job search faded from getting Back to Vegas, it continued as I have to get work, to pay off a credit card, to get a vehicle to get me and my cat out of here, if not Vegas.

2 years later, my cat’s health was deteriorating. I knew how long I had her, but I had also heard cats could live to 20-21 and I was going to drive her somewhere with trees and grass she could play in.

In Vegas we developed a tradition of taking her to the drive in movies! We decided to go there for nostalgia and hell 2 movies for $4 each? It was a BONUS when I realized we could put baby kitty in her carrier and smuggle her in. Really, no pets? She could see the family of cats that lived on the roof of concessions that wandered around. We always worried they’d get run over. We always brought string cheese and Cane’s chicken for all the cats to snack on.

One time we even drove her thru x-mas in the park! Vegas is a great place for annual holiday events, but for kitty and my girlfriend, they let me forget about my problems with the holidays and the religions behind them and enjoy the pretty lights. “Look baby!” (There go writer’s tears.)

I have so many memories of my cat, I’ve been scribbling them down the past couple of days and will do so until I’m all wrote out. I always want to remember her how I remember her. 10 years goes by and you forget things and I can’t let that happen. I have to mind dump my memory on a media, a “hard copy” I can have.

I talked with someone recently about digital cameras/ pictures/ computer storage. It’s more convenient than film, but look how less permanent it is. One zap could crash your drive. You could lose your cell with all your pics. In fact it happened to me and the only thing I used my first cell cam for was kitty pics. There were a few I e-mailed to myself that I pulled later. You could post your pics online but I did that for 10 years, who the hell goes to myspace anymore? Who will go to face book 10 years from now? I gamble that word press was around for a long time and could be here until I can at least afford my own domain someday to transfer all this to. Even then, domain companies get bought out. Who knows. It’s why I want to write a book, so copies have a chance of being out there in the world after I’m gone. But the internet is even turning books into vcrs or Kodak film.

I want a physical photo album, physical pictures to post up at work or whatever locker I’ll have some day or god forbid my own office. Instant replaces longevity, another lesson the remote culture needs to learn.

I have more to say and I’m at the end of my page. I’ll write another blog and post it tomorrow, okay? Thank you all for reading this. Losing my baby makes me want to apologize to everyone, appreciate the people I love and thank everyone for the rest of my life.

2012/07/24 Posted by | Single malts | , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Summer lovin, but I don’t mean the rapey song

Open season blog, summerdate 66409.58

This summer is going to be a little different from last. I’m already seeing things I can’t participate in for a second year because, yes I still don’t have “extra” money. Last year I made an unspoken promise that things wouldn‘t be like this now. Financially, I’m slightly better but not enough to dump a couple of weeks worth of grocery money in a day.

Basically, I’m sick of being nice to unresponsive store and restaurant managers and getting nothing in return. It’s maddening and yet something society, my mother and my past voice plays in an endless loop that I have to do, right up there with the definition of insanity (doing something over and over again expecting a different result).

May hit me with a lot of season/ series tv show enders. I didn’t see many, erratic network tv reception is a curse but largely a blessing. I read about a lot of them. It made me think of my favorite season cliffhangers and the top series enders, ones that got their proper ending and far more that got cancelled or even a bum rush ending. If you thought of many in this paragraph, please note them as I try to figure out how to change my blog so anyone can note (without a login).

The straw that broke my back was the last weekly, the summer events guide. This summer like last promises a lot of free concerts, community events, fairs, conventions that have already been steady since winter weather petered out. I did go to a lot of free things last summer and then I stopped going, which was a mistake. I guilt-ed myself when I saw everyone spend a lot at each or bring all their “upper status” things to wave in everyone’s face. I mistakenly allowed materialism from the Joneses to gain the upper hand.

When I was in Vegas and had “baller money” I never waved it in someone else’s face when I could do something others couldn’t. I still did cheap things, I just got more mileage out it.

I’ve been studying early 20-somethings for the past couple of years. There’s an energy they have. There are beliefs they have, society is geared towards it. You learn and question everything in high school. If you can go to college, even a community one, you choose what you want to study, where you want to go in life. I admittedly am learning 2 decades too late that “going after my dreams” in film/ video entertainment was the wrong choice. The way the world operates is job security in knowing the legalities, finances and advertising savvy to run a business. I had my fun in my 20s and even 30s. and even all my savings & cashed out 401Ks didn’t last 2 years of looking for work.

Something weird happens in your 20’s, you’re groomed to go off into a career and then aside from a week off every year, who gives a shit, life doesn’t change until you turn 65 and theoretically retire. For awhile, it used to be a retirement having to work as a greeter at Helmart and even that is decimating before us first wave of post baby boomers will get to that age since that generation will rape social security and every other retirement option dry since they already “borrowed” from those budgets.

Early 20’s is “let’s go on trips and see what’s out there before we become stuck in careers and kids for the rest of our lives.” I try to look at my unemployment as a chance to get this energy back. I have a “half time” break where I can think about what to do with the rest of my life with a fresher start that early 20 year olds never comprehend. For a lot of them, it’s balls out, kids that have it tougher live like they don’t even expect to make it past 30, which is also why car insurance is jacked up for that age and why most pregnancies and STDs happen in those “fuck the condom” years.

I literally lived where people “bet it all,” for a decade. The odds catch up, the house always wins in the long run. Living there I knew this and instead of investing in the companies (which may have actually been a good call in retrospect), I put my money on the felt and the penny slots for the free beer like everyone else that lives there. Live for today, fuck around with your friends.

This summer I need to break the monotony. And if I volunteer for some of the community events, it’s another chance for me to “network,” although I have no intention of doing so. I want to have a modicum of fun while I’m doing something where I’m also learning and can be productive. If you believe in movie/ tv logic, in the zen I’d eventually get a job offer. I just know I need to break out of my own mental poverty walls on a regular basis. I spent another winter cooped up in this mofuggin condo trying to sell shit on amazon to stay afloat.

2012/05/29 Posted by | Single malts | , , , , | Leave a comment

My cat, Fuzzy

Owner’s blog, cat date 66292.29

I have a list of things to complain about. But I’m tired of all that. they’ll always be there. I read all kinds of things about how to deal with anger, frustration. I think of reams of rants, but when I look at my blank, white screen I fight to keep my nemeses at bay to limit their voices- their power- in MY journal. I never want to be an enabling sheep. I point things out. I already just deleted 3 paragraphs that derail me from what I want this chapter to be about. The shepherd has to prevail.

There are lots of isolated characters I’ve read and seen on film & tv, from the wise man, to the deserted man to mad scientist, to the guy in his evil lair. what a lot of them have in common is a pet they contemplate life plans with when there is no one else.

Let me start off with, yes I have owned dogs when I was young. Not much fun with the barking and the crap mine detail around the house. I was a dog person when I had them. Now I’m a cat person. Poop and pee in one convenient box! I know plenty of the dog and cat debates. I have owned pets in tanks, from fish to hermit crabs top lizards. I’ve owned caged pets, including a parakeet whose shrieks went right to my nervous system. I preferred the cooing of a finch I had. All of those pets have come and gone, but my cat remains. I’ve been pondering that “___ come and go, but ___ remains” quote a lot, trying to absorb and appreciate those second blanks.

I got fuzzy and his sister when I worked rides at a theme park, from a girlfriend’s parents house. They came from a littler of 4, the mother had over 5 different colors and patterns of fur, her name was Muffin. My g/f at the time named the small “runt” of the litter Bunny for some reason. We also got one of her brothers that I got to name, Fuzzy which made more sense to me and the name still went with Bunny’s. The other 2 were blonde boy kitties that remained at her parents court, outdoor cats. We took them as soon as they were weaned from their mother. I hope, looking back… Fuzz was black and grey stripes, Bunny was a mix of colors, greys, black, white and tan, just like her mother. I never saw the father.

We used to take them to the park in a basket, everything they did was precious. They scampered around the house when they were little, I used to enjoy hearing their little stampede around the condo, of course when I was quiet working on something else. You could hold one in your hand like a softball. We took them to the vets regularly for checkups and shots. The county offered a free voucher per pet and early on, we got them both spade and neutered. I remember that it took Bunn longer to recover, with her poor little radar dish.

I have blogged elsewhere about her brother and it’s in a file I can’t find, the blog entry lost in some server that GeoCities or MySpace was absorbed into something else.

It happened after I took a trip to Vegas, when I decided I needed to go look for work there. When I came back, I let the cats out in the front yard as I had done. The stupidest thing I did was let them out for progressively longer periods of time, trusting they would stay out of trouble and come back in on their own. Top 5 You Fucking Idiot time of my life award.

“SCREECH.” I went out front and a car was stopped. Bunn was inside. Her brother wasn’t. I ran out and thank the driver that he stopped to get out and consider what he had hit. He was even very apologetic. I told him to stay there, I was already running in the house for the kitty carrier.

I had a car at the time, so after carefully placing my wailing boy in the kitty carrier, I drove him to the vets. I remember guttural growling as I cried and drove with my right hand nuzzling his head in the passenger seat as I drove us, shaking and struggling to say comforting things towards the vets.

Our vet was in fact someone I worked with at the theme park, it was his “weekend” side job for fun. We worked on the park’s railroad together. He was there and the one I could count on to work on my cat as if it were his own. I cried and even called my mother, as I had before in an emergency.

A couple of hours into it, I had to accept some things, drowning in tears. No, I just wanted him to live. I’ve seen people take care of cats without all their legs. What was important to me was that I keep his spirit alive, let me love him longer.

The vet told me that he couldn’t realistically keep Fuzzy alive, his mind wouldn’t be fully there if he could. I really didn’t give a shit about what money I had to “borrow” to keep him alive. When I realized he most likely wouldn’t be in his state of mind again, I had to accept things and drive him home in his kitty carrier until he went to sleep for the last time.

I kept my hand on him as I lay, he smelled like blood. I told him how much we loved him over and over and happy memories we shared. I’m happy I took pics of them playing.

Bunn was confused, she would wander around. After he passed away, I just left him in the carrier until I figured out what to do the next day. I kept good thoughts and smiled thru tears. It wasn’t a time to debate God, it was a time to celebrate my boy fuzzy and if there was a spirit rising from him I had to let him see we loved him and how he enriched mine and Bunn’s lives. She approached him, smelled that he was… different and walked away. I cried for the 3 of us all night & the next morning, pretty useless for me to try to lie in bed.

I would up buying him in the front yard among some rose plants that line the front of the condo I’m staying in again, now a decade later. When we came back, I’d sit out front and let Bunn play for a while until she started eating the grass. I saw in a documentary about yard maintenance and all the chemicals they put into lawn care. It made her sicker than I thought all those years.

I meant to write about Bunn, but this needed to be shared again. I’ll write about happy times with her within a few weeks.

2012/04/16 Posted by | History 101 | , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment