Friday, June 26, 2009

Sick Kitty Blues- maybe the last verse

One step forward, two steps back. Maxine, my cat, is going through changes similar to people suffering from serious illnesses, in that she made some progress and then backslid into many of the conditions she started with. If not worse.

At this point, she's pretty debilitated. Just wants to find a spot to land and stay there, keep as quiet as possible. So I'm trying to oblige her, and without too much hovering. Hard to do of course because you care so much and want to do what you can to make her better. Or at least comfortable.

It all started last month- or at least became noticeable then. Being a longhaired cat, there had always been the Furball Issue. So coughing was pretty much de rigeur. But this was a nasty sucker, almost a paroxysm of pain twisting her little body as it happened. Prompted a trip to the Animal Emergency Clinic, and then to the Vet, where she stayed for two days. Getting her home, I had several medications to give her three times a day--lotsa fun, since cats are so cooperative when it comes to medicating them--plus injecting her with fluids once a week. Fun fun.

But we seemed to make some headway. Markedly thinner than she was, and not as agile, but still hanging in there. On maybe 75% power, as it were. Still some appetite, though not the frisky animal who would bound down the stairs and through the house to the kitchen to be fed. Or the one who could leap tall furniture at a single bound.

Still, some quality of life. Happy to be here, glad to be part of the team. Well, unit is probably more accurate but she and Lester- the dog- and I definitely comprise a family unit of sorts. They pretty much grew up together, acquired maybe six months apart some 12 years ago. So the minute I bring her in the door from her 2 days at the Animal Hospital, Lester is sniffing all over her, glad as hell to see his lil' sis. Nonplussed from 2 days away from home, she wasn't real receptive at first- more like "get out of my face, asshole!" but warmed up to him later, I'm sure. Like I said, they grew up together.

My dog and cat have a very sibling-like relationship--well, since that's what they are, essentially, in the whole group dynamic of human-and-two-quadrapeds. They mess with each other, like brother and sister would, with teasing and power-plays. But I catch them sitting together a fair amount. They like one other, despite what they might have me believe. And as such, Lester is worried about his feline sister. I can tell by the look in his eyes, and by his pacing. Like many canines, he paces when he's upset.

I'm worried too. We've gone back two steps from the modest progress made at first. She's not eating, not much of anything this whole week-so no nutrition, save the meds I'm somehow getting into her. And her breathing is a lot more shallow. Plus, that shake-your-ass-off cough is coming back. So as I said, she basically just finds a comfortable spot and lands there, trying not to exert herself too much.

Well, tomorrow it's back to the Vet for me and Maxine. They're supposed to do a procedure that'll take some of the pressure off one of her lungs. Plus they'll get some fluids into her, something we were doing anyway once a week. Maybe this will all work, maybe it won't. But it's certainly worth a try.

It's been a bitch of a time these past almost two months. The further she descends the heavier my heart gets, until I think both of them are going to just plop on the floor like a couple of lugubrious horseturds. This past week especially has been a trip on the down escalator.

Well, we'll see what gives tomorrow. You can only do what you can do. After that, it's out of your hands. Whatever comes of it, we've had a nice time together, Maxine and I. 12 years. That's a while. That's a spell.

Wish us luck.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Keep your Sunny Side Up

Looking at the previous blog here, I'm thinking, 'what's the point of all this negativity on my part'? I mean really. There's enough of that shit going on everywhere as it is: people being all negative and judgmental and like that. I started to cite an example and then realized I was just adding part and parcel to it.

So to hell with my least favorite things. I mean, they're already there implicitly, by my non-patronage of those folks and products, so why belabor the point? Plus it would probably blow my day being cited as someone's least favorite anything(even though everyone is someone's least favorite something!), so I couldn't wish that on anyone else.

All That said, let us proceed to some things in this world I like:

Favorite Actor: Robert DeNiro, Dustin Hoffman

Favorite Actress: Meryl Streep

Favorite Director: Stanley Kubrick

Favorite 70's Underground Cartoonist: R. Crumb, S. Clay Wilson

Favorite 70's Porn Starlet: Roberta Pedon, Christy Canyon

Favorite Seafood: salmon

Favorite beer: Corona

Favorite Psychologist: Albert Ellis

Favorite breed of dog: Labrador Retriever

Favorite 80's band: Huey Lewis and the News

Favorite vintage TV show: The Twilight Zone

Favorite spectator sport: Boxing, college basketball, girls' gymnastics

Favorite junk food: Cheetos

Well those are some of the things that make me tick. Actually, the beer and/or Cheetos may make me do something else! But seriously- actually that was serious, I'm sorry to say- some of the things I enjoy in this world are listed above. Maybe they're also some of yours. Or maybe your favorites are all the "opposite" of mine. Who knows? Who cares? It's all good..

Thursday, June 18, 2009

These are a few of my Least Fav'rite Things

I'm not saying they suck. This is not an attempt to slam anything or anybody, but just a sort of reverse approach to my tastes. (In some cases, I've put my favorites in there in parentheses). Again, just personal taste, all relative. For that matter, they may all be your all-time favorites(and with your least favorite things parenthetically noted..) If so, more power to 'em- and you. But if you're reading this, chances are your tastes are in at least the same ballpark as mine. So here we go:

Least favorite actor: Richard Gere

Least favorite actress: Ally Sheedy

Least favorite comedic actor: David Spade

Least favorite comedienne: Rosie O'Donnell

Least favorite HBO Series: Curb Your Enthusiasm (The Sopranos)

Least favorite comedian: Robert Klein (George Carlin, Jonathan Winters)

Least favorite city: Detroit (New York)

Least favorite beer: Miller High-life (Corona)

Least favorite soft drink: Fresca

Least favorite cartoon: Alvin and the Chipmunks

Least favorite newspaper comic strip: The Family Circus (Peanuts)

Least favorite Green Acres character: Lisa Douglas (Mr Kimball)

Least favorite singer/songwriter: Gordon Lightfoot

Least favorite coal: Anthracite (Bituminous)

Well there you have it. Some of the things in this world that aren't really part of mine if I can help it(even though they have every right to be here that I do, of course..).. Makes me wonder if I'd make anybody's least favorite list. I'd almost bet on it- although it would feel weird to win a bet like that.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Who Cares If You Read This?

Well where to start? How about in the middle? I have an Uncle, age 92, who also likes to blog. His are sent--that is, snail-mailed-- to various family members- this nephew included- on a more-or-less weekly basis and are basic accounts of what he's up to. Always an entertaining read. Reflections of what Charles Emerson Winchester once attributed to Col Potter as "gentle good humor". On occasion, he will comment on the state of the world, or a particular politician, but always gracefully. An ideological tap dance rather than any 'heavy-hoofed' pronouncements.

There was a blog of mine awhile back which was about the family(called My (Ig)noble Genes, should you care to read it) which my cousin- his daughter- forwarded to him. He wrote about it in his weekly missive, which kinda tickled me. Said that he enjoyed it but wouldn't feel comfortable being that introspective in a place where the whole world can see it.

Well the whole world can see it! Potentially. But in reality, this comic strip doesn't get a whole lot of traffic. As a matter of fact, I'd say hardly any. So with that in mind, it's easier to bare one's soul, what with virtually nobody watching. I have a friend who writes blogs that are sometimes searingly introspective, one of which(about our hometown)was so much so--at least to me--that I had to write a blog of my own about it. I sent it to her and she wrote back saying, in effect, "man, I sometimes forget other people read my stuff".

As a musician, sometimes I've played my best when there was hardly anybody there--or even nobody there. Yes, I'm sorry to say, I've played to nobody! But at the same time I'm glad to say, since I played better..

And so it is with blogging. Huh, I just thought of the title of this blog, right here and now. Sort of a take-off on an essay written many years ago by composer Milton Babbitt, called "Who Cares if You Listen?"

I don't care how damned esoteric you consider yourself to be. You still turn out your stuff with the idea of some kind of audience for it. But in some cases--mine, at any rate--you're more effective if you behave as if there was nobody in the room but you. The audience is still there, but instead of being within the four walls, they're between your ears.

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

No, today is the first day of the rest of my vacation

Getting into one's vacation is(at least at its optimal best) a bit like falling into a restful sleep in that your level of relaxation deepens as you go. Each day you shake off a bit more of the work/life monkey, lessen your karmic load by a few pounds. Or at least a few ounces..

And as I relax more, there are activities I'm increasingly able to enjoy. Things I have trouble getting into when things are more tense, things I've gotta be relaxed to be able to do.

Yeah, definitely that. Well, that's a given. And music is another one . If I get a nice mellow day in there, over a weekend or vacation either one, I'm usually ready to make some noise.

Strangely enough, if I get two consecutive days of total relaxation, I start cleaning. But only after two or more days of complete calm.

In the course of this vacation, I have experienced not two but three days running which were free of any kind of significant stress. Thus I have found myself with the full-fledged Will to Clean.

Thusfar in my week-off-from-work, I have created some music which may or may not be ultimately worthwhile in terms of its appeal. I don't know yet. But I do know that on my vacation- which isn't even half over yet- that I have cleaned. Oh yes I have cleaned. A mighty amount of stuff was removed and carted off to be recycled today. All I can say is there are a couple upstairs closets once teeming with junk who are probably pret-ty sorry they messed with Roger U Roundly...

So yeah, a productive day as far as all that. It does raise a question though. Since I have to be more relaxed to want to clean, does it follow then that cleaning is the higher art? After all, since the desire to clean requires more(get ready to groan)--purification on my part. Or is it that cleaning itself is such an execrable(or at least boring)task that one has to seek an altered state- be it drunk or stoned or just "relaxed" to get through it?

No, I think I clean at this point because I'm finally relaxed enough to see what's in front of me. And it's a fuckin' mess! Well it was....