[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hmzWXoJObAQ]

The Final Days of Art Buchwald: A Visit

Art Buchwald: whether you like his writing or not, whether you like him or not, you’ve got to dig his attitude.

Keep writing, indeed.

If there were Dutch people in my neighborhood, they’d be on notice right now. As it is, I have to view everyone with suspicion and distrust, and not just because I have a tendency to see all people in the same dim light. No, one of these bastards, I suspect, has an extra cat roaming their home.

By the way, if you are said bastard, the cat’s name is Ari, and she’ll drive you insane with her talking. I guarantee it. You think it’s cute, the way she doesn’t shut up, don’t you? Yeah, most people do. But give it a while. She’s no different than any other gorgeous but essentially brainless woman. The constant noise becomes static before too long, and then background noise, finally turning into something vaguely resembling fingernails on a chalkboard, only more irritating.

It’s been a rough couple of days without her, joking messages to people who don’t even own computers aside. She’s run off, and so there’s no way of knowing what has actually happened to her — she could be dead, or taken in by the crazy elderly folk down the street, or hiding under a pile of furniture in the alley behind me, or touring with the Dave Matthews Band. And I hate not knowing. I’ve spent hours each day walking the neighborhood, looking for some sign of her (the difficulty of which is compounded by the two strays that look enough like her that it’s distinctly confusing), just wishing that I could find some finality, one way or the other. I hope that if she has been taken in to someone else’s home, it’s at least someone that needs companionship and will treat her well; even the motormouths of the world deserve to be loved.

And poor little Adolf… he’s always been the bigger of the two, and much more akin to my own introverted side. Up until last Thursday, he was fiercely independent (only coming around when company was over or when I was laying on the sofa, something I haven’t done much of since the satellite got turned off a few weeks ago), and really quiet; since Ari ran off, he follows me constantly, right under my feet, and talks enough to make Ari proud. And it suddenly occurs to me that, even though he dwarfs her in size (he’s a right portly bastard, and dense, too), Ari’s his older “sister” — she’s been around ever since he has, and he’s got to be confused. Maybe even a little sad.

And so my spring cleaning has apparently begun in earnest, without me even being aware or in control of it. I had made it through “m” in my CD collection before I got sick, and hadn’t even moved into the back nine when Ari jumped ship. I guess the universe is serving noticed that even I hadn’t realized just how stripped down my life will be soon.

I just hope Adolf isn’t still giving interviews to local news a year from now. If Ari doesn’t come home fairly soon, I’ll just have to make up a story to tell him. And learn how to speak the dark language of the feline, so I can tell it to him so he understands.

http://www.chrisbishop.com/her/

totally cribbed from an email forward:

1. As I let go of my feelings of guilt, I am in touch with my inner sociopath.
2. I have the power to channel my imagination into ever-soaring levels of suspicion and paranoia.
3. I assume full responsibility for my actions, except the ones that are someone else’s fault.
4. I no longer need to punish, deceive, or compromise myself, unless I want to stay employed.
5. In some cultures what I do would be considered normal.
6. Having control over myself is almost as good as having control over others.
7. My intuition nearly makes up for my lack of self-judgment.
8. I honor my personality flaws for without them I would have no personality at all.
9. Joan of Arc heard voices, too.
10. I am grateful that I am not as judgmental as all those censorious, self-righteous people around me.
11. I need not suffer in silence while I can still moan, whimper, and complain.
12. As I learn the innermost secrets of people around me, they reward me in many ways to keep me quiet.
13. When someone hurts me, I know that forgiveness is cheaper than a lawsuit, but not nearly as gratifying.
14. The first step is to say nice things about myself. The second, to do nice things for myself. The third, to find someone to buy me nice things.
15. As I learn to trust the universe, I no longer need to carry a gun.
16. All of me is beautiful, even the ugly, stupid, and disgusting parts.
17. I am at one with my duality.
18. Blessed are the flexible, for they can tie themselves into knots.
19. Only a lack of imagination saves me from immobilizing myself with imaginary fears.
20. I will strive to live each day as if it were my 50th birthday.
21. Today I will gladly share my experience and advice, for there are no sweeter words than “I told you so!”
22. False hope is better than no hope at all.
23. A good scapegoat is almost as good as a solution.
24. Who can I blame for my problems? Just give me a minute…. I’ll find someone.
25. Why should I waste my time reliving the past when I can spend it worrying about the future?
26. The complete lack of evidence is the surest sign that the conspiracy is working.
27. Becoming aware of my character defects leads me naturally to the next step of blaming my parents.
28. To have a successful relationship, I must learn to make it look like I’m giving as much as I’m getting.
29. I am willing to make the mistakes if someone else is willing to learn from them.
30. Before I criticize a man, I walk a mile in his shoes. That way, if he gets angry, he’s a mile away and barefoot.

Everyone should get the bird flu.  It’s a nice way to catch up on time that you’ve not been spending with your bed, and your borrowed DVDs of season two of 24.

Fortunately, this is actually a mild version of the flu — if it were avian, it would be a hummingbird, or maybe a canary.  Still not a whole lot of fun, but much better than it was last year.  I can actually move around every now and then, and I can bear the light of the computer screen.

Life should resume it’s normal course tomorrow.  I’m trying to look at this as a good way to close out February. Thank goodness that I only do inventory on a quarterly basis.

Random quick notes:

• I am dying.  Same flu, same time, different year. At least I’m not trying to smoke through this one.
• A little ballet over the weekend is certainly a different form of entertainment.  Christiana did really well — I’m no ballet aficianado, but I know dancing and music when I see it.  It’s always nice to see artists with true passion, and there were at least a few up on that stage this weekend.
• Ready for contact lenses again.  Glasses suck, especially when it’s raining, or when I’m bartending.

Back to bed now.

A point of clarification leading into this:

The last post (I’m not convinced that aliens don’t walk among us) didn’t really contain anything that should have been able to stir up so much debate, especially from someone who has known me for more than a quarter century. It was a comment on something that I find amusing — the Contract of Wifely Expectations. Holy fuck, the title alone is enough to keep me from taking it seriously. The entire thing smacks of the sort of thing that a D&D nerd or RenFaire junkie might think was appropriate — certainly not (to me) the signs of an abusive husband/pedophile. But again, what do I know? I thought the humor would be inherent. I was, apparently, wrong.

So this post: this is serious. No fucking around here, folks: if you laugh at any of this, you’re inhuman, and you make the baby jesus cry. Continue reading →

I think you, Garth, and I should start a team of Super Villains.

You can be Bipolar Man, Garth is the Bulldog, and I’ll be Dirty Old Man. You’ll confuse people with sudden and awkward mood swings, I’ll fluster young women by copping unwanted feels, and Garth — well, Garth will just bite people.

I wish I could say that this was spam, because how funny would it be to get spam referencing a diagnosed condition that you have, as well as accurately describing two of your friends?

Sadly, it’s from a friend.

Of course, I use that word loosely.