Some cats have really hard jobs to do, especially when they're paired with amateur human beings. Nietzsche was one of my first cats and I loved him with everything I had, which unfortunately wasn't much at the time. In return he offered me unwavering protection as only a giant-sized philosopher-kitty with half a tail can, and let me dress him up in lights for my Christmas cards. I love you for always, Neetch Cat.
You know, you can tell a lot about a cat by the musical selections that accompany his story. Neetch can only be represented by the biggies.
We listened to this a lot on Sundays, me and Neetch and Loma P:
Touch me in the morning and then just walk away...
Seriously, have you listened to that song lately? Well, I have--81 times in the last week, actually, because I just can't seem to grok it, and I can't get over how vulnerable and sad and romantic and really, well, lame the heroine--I'm calling her "Touch Me"--seems to be. It makes me mad that she's giving the guy all this power, you know? And is it just one night she's hoping for, or an actual series of booty calls?
I can't say for sure what Jayne Mansfield would do, but I'd make a bet that she would NOT lie there and think about the last time he touched her in the morning… No siree, she'd probably have kicked his ass to the curb long ago--better to lounge around your 40-room Pink Palace with your meezer in a leopard-print bullet bra than be somebody's sloppy seconds…
P.S. The heart, such strange things happen to it when it opens up.
I know, I know, this is like the Poseidon Adventure version of the song, but what it's lacking in subtlety and strength it makes up for in crazy sequined hats. And what is up with the dedication?!
Here's the male counterpart to "Touch Me." You'd think she and "Sun Shines" would hook up, but it never works like that:
I interrupt my “high school byotches and bullies” miniseries to bring you a commercial break of more typical Pollyanna/sunshine supergirly offerings.
On Saturday I noticed that my orchid, Jimi, is not doing well. His purple flowers have dried up (inevitable, since they’ve been out and proud since May), but that’s not the problem… Jimi’s fighting for his life, roots crawling out of the too-small pot like a hungry snake. Looking for what? More room to boom-boom bloom.
He gets lots of water, and I even mist him with Evian in a can. But it’s not enough. He’s outgrown his home, he needs to expand.
I know what I need to do—what any frickin’ normal person would do…repot him. And I am going to today, but let me tell you that for me, that’s taking a chance, accepting a dare. It could be that I just don’t know how to do it properly, but few of my past plants have survived repotting. Is it just that it takes them awhile to acclimate, so when they seem to be flatlining, all this work is actually going on underneath the surface that you don’t see…like the roots are doing their thing, and like any change, just takes time and patience to see results?
That’s no reason to not try. It’s like this viewpoint I heard the other day, so painfully expressed—“better to euthanize shelter animals than keep them in a tiny cage, where they don’t get to live like real cats and dogs.” I hear where that person is coming from—but that shouldn’t stop us from working our tails off to do what we can for them. That shouldn’t stop us from repotting—our plants, our selves, whatever wants to grow.
I know, I know, I can be so annoyingly phototropic. Next post I’ll be sure to badmouth some more people.
Music for growing your inner Pollyanna
My total fave Jimi song. And when I did some online research, I found this at-home-here explanation of the lyrics: The main lyrics in this song ("Let me stand next to your fire") came from a time when the band had just finished a gig in the cold around Christmas, 1966. They went to Noel Redding's mother's house. When they got there, Jimi asked Margaret, the mother, to "Let me stand next to your fire" so he could warm up. They had a German Shepherd that way laying by the fire, which inspired the line, "Move over Rover, and let Jimi take over." (As posted by Jayson, Atlanta, GA)
Hendrixophiles, please don’t tell me that’s entirely true!? You have to admit it’s slightly hokey and though I love German shepherds, well... I think it’s more exciting to think about the…uh…blood-to-groin frenziness of that song.
I can’t say anything about that, but I adore this song because the chorus makes me feel like I could jump up and smash through any ceiling… like one of those cetaceans--right whales, I think they are--who jump out of the water and spin around like there’s no tomorrow.
