As the 90's concluded dialogue and acceptance of homosexuality became commonplace. One culprit could have been cartoons, namely the Go-Bots.
We mourn the passing our dearly departed family cat: Logan. In the
same week Norman Mailer charged into the afterlife no two men could be
so disparate. While Mailer stabbed is fourth wife Logan would
patiently sit on the curb eagerly pining for attractive female
students to sit and have a cuddle. Born the runt of his
litter in June of 1990 Logan and his siblings found themselves ready
for adoption at the Rice County Humane Society. Well regarded in
getting most pets adopted but lacking imagination in names, Logan's
original name was Speedy, the county already had him placed in the
care of Adam Lee. Apartment regulation cut Adam & Logan's time short
and Logan would move into Bette & Franklin's house. It was there he
held on to his kitten tendencies long after his peers took to sitting
around and sleeping. He was still attacking sleeping feet at the
virile age of two & a half, 24 in people years. That chronic
immaturity also translated into a sometimes misguided affection. It
was his love for women that we first discovered he liked to jump into
your arms. A sweet lady discovered the hard way that catching him
was part of the act. He grabbed on anyway but was a real good looking
cat by then and got away with it. As a gawky teenager Logan broke the
ice for me. I learned to catch a cat and we had a good thing going.
He would pine at the curb, get the ladies to sit and pet him, I would
come say hello, pat my chest, jump, awwwww. Pretty girls tilted their
head and they were off. There are some limitations to a handsome cat
as your prop. What made it all convincing was that it wasn't an act.
Logan greeted us at the door when we came home. Followed us around,
settled in our laps and woke up the next morning with him in your
arms. As Norman Mailer put it, "There are two kinds of brave men:
those who are brave by the grace of nature, and those who are brave by
an act of will." Whilst Mailer only embodied half of his own
statement he's lucky to even have that much in common with Logan. We all thank you for your life's contribution to our family. Your race well run, your fight well won, a job well done.
On Saturday October 27 our mate Ed Hoffman invited us to his bar in Winona for some early Halloween shenanagans. From Minneapolis we take the highway 61 of Dylan fame almost the whole way. A lovely drive.
This is Lake Pepin just outside of Lake City:The Birthplace of WaterSkiing.
After settling in we headed to Ed's bar where the pet baby Sylvia was being passed around. Ed got first dibs.
Then of course Melissa, Syl's mother.
...and yours truly couldn't pass up the chance.
Eva was our lovely barkeep.
I came upon this group of ladies indicating something but was at a loss of exactly what. Not all local customs were explained to me.
I joined all the folks in signing this one's belly before finding out it was all the potential fathers. This I didn't know until it was too late. I was signed on and held my breath for the drawing later on. The Lord smiled on me that night and I wasn't the dad. Whew.
It just isn't a Halloween if someone doesn't dress up as a pimp.
Saturday 10/20 was the first full day of sun we've seen in more than two weeks. The British built an empire in overcast skies but we get pretty whiny when the sun hides for just a few days. A week and a half ago our dear mate Michael hatched an ambitious plan to ride from our respective residences to Stillwater mostly using The Gateway Trail. All told we rode nearly 40 miles with only one near death by car and one by exhaustion.
Chicago, Ill - June 16th 2007
The conspiracy was hatched last March with my mates Tad & Lisa. We would storm Chicago on my birthday, drink all their beer and be the bad luck charm to my Cubbies I've been my whole life. The fun began right from the beginning.
Our fabulous lodgings were provided by Tad's dad Don who owns this apartment building he turned into a bed & breakfast.
It's located just four blocks from Wrigley with four of five off street parking spots in the alley. Don and a neighbor combine their spots to sell to fans for $25-$35 a spot.
Tad met us at the L station and broke the news we would be helping with the parking hustle Sunday.
That just set the tone for the weekend that just wouldn't stop getting better. But now I'm getting ahead of myself.
Don loaned us his Old Style glove. It's magic power summons the Old Style vendor up to your row. Wrigley field only has Old Style and bud lite. Bud is St. Louis piss. St. Louis is the gateway to the west. West is the direction the sun sets. Staring at the sun can make you color blind. Most color blind people just can't see reds and greens. It would suck to not be able to see reds and greens. Cardinals are red. St. Louis is the gateway to color blind cardinals that suck. But this day the Cubbies were playing the Padres.
We sat in section 204, for the rest of you that's left fieldish. It was 90 degrees so we were fortunate we were under the upper deck.
Fairly early in the game Cubs slugger Derrick Lee was beaned in the head by a pitch. Most likely he and the pitcher traded swear words then a hockey game broke out. This was my first Cubs game in 20 years and they welcome be back with bench clear. Thanks guys. Four players including Lee and the pitcher were thrown out of the game.
We give Lee two thumbs up. Carlos Zombrano took a no hitter into the seventh innnig and eventually the Padres won in the 8th inning off a single homer in the top of the 9th bringing the Cubs record 0-4 when I'm present.
That night we met with Jess and her fella Nick in Wicker park. Jess's cat Nigel was deathly ill at the time so we stayed close to the homestead. We went the Star Bar and the Small Bar. One of those hit number one on my cheese curd list. Thanks to Nick for ordering a second basket.
Tragically all pictures from Sunday were lost and only fond memories remain. Tad and I pitched up for our parking hustle duties meeting the neighbor out back. He and Don have about eight spots to sell. I was out on the street with a sign, I would offer the spots to folks who would pull up. They would follow Tad down the alley and the neighbor would help them park their car and collect the money. One of the folks had a single ticket and let me have it cheap. Tad and I got paid $60 each and I was off to the game beer money in hand.
My usual good luck handed the Cubs an 11-3 spanking maintaining my perfect record at 0-5.
We kept it pretty calm that Sunday playing some Chicago Bears Uno. I dropped this game twice by forgetting to call Uno when I had it. Lisa eventually did win it giving me the sage advice to "just say one but in Spanish."
It was a fabulous trip with big thanks to Jess & Nick for taking us out. The Salyards for putting us up in their lovely pad and especially Tad for doing this:
Epilogue:
We left for home Monday afternoon depressed I had leave Chicago. The gate agent took the edge off that by bumping us up to first class. Apologies to all for neglecting to include pictures of Lisa. Her denomination of the Church of subGenius forbids being photographed four days after Flag Day.
The real celebrities didn't and in some cases couldn't have done these brilliant tributes to The Pixies. They were expertly impersonated by and English Fella named Matthew Taylor. Enjoy.
I didn't believe it when I heard my mate Matt had a pair of feety pajamas. I had to try them on and sure enough they had their effect. First comes raw rage.
Then comes a jubilation only meth heads enjoy on their first fix out of rehab. A shyness sets in with a self counciousness that leads to a peaceful contemplation. Feetys, I love you, loathe you and accept you. All at the same time.
