Post Christmas Crash

Chip is face down on the carpet. I'm not far behind him, and everyone else looks like they've had a bitchen good time. Grendel got to go on three road trips this week. He went to St. Catherines to visit the mad sailor's wife. He came with us again for Christmas eve dinner at PJ's sister's place, and he came along to see my mum and dad, and most of all to hang out with Chip.

Chip was kinda worn out playing with Grendel, because Chip is an old fart and Grendel is a youngun with lots of energy. Where Chip lost traction on the hardwood floor, Grendel could stop on a dime and change direction. Chip had the size and brute force thing cranked up, but the young pup held his own. He knew where the safe spots were, and where he could use the surfaces of the living room to outmaneouvre the old mutt.

More hilarity to liven up the Christmas celebration at the Irish Embassy in Simcoe County.

Mission of Mercy

Sass has the crud. Full tilt sounds-like-death crud. When I called her on the phone earlier, she was hoarse and drowsy sounding. I thought, here I am puppy sitting with a bag of Ricola, a bottle of Buckley's mixture, both unopened, some rare spices, and my best pal in need of a visit.

Needless to say, I went to her aid like any good friend should do. With Grendel in hand, I gingerly set foot across the threshold and waited for the sparks to fly. Sassinak has two cats you see. One is a year old kitten, and the second is several years old, and well into her adulthood. It's not a huge intellectual leap to imagine what two full sized cats could do to a chihuahua puppy. I was sure it was going to be a stressful situation.

Did Grendel ever prove me wrong. Once he got his bearings he began to scope out the cats, and they in turn kept a safe distance away until they could figure out what Grendel was. Soon enough, Harriet (who has a name finally) began playing a rousing game of chase the chihuahua. Grendel whimpered a few times when he couldn't reach her up on the bed, and when she had him cornered. Otherwise the two of them had Sass and I in stitches with their antics.

The older cat had a different take on the situation however. She was likely grateful the yearling was bugging someone else besides her. At the same time, she wasn't as thrilled about the presence of a puppy. Interestingly enough, she still restrained herself when Grendel snatched a few kibbles from her bowl.

All in all, it was a great meeting of the species. Dogs, cats and humans just getting along perfectly.

Maybe I've Overreacted

My last post was way over the top, though I'm sure a lot of people are close to feeling the same sentiments. Christmas can be stressful for most of us in the western world. Commercial activity and spiritual renewal rarely go hand in hand.

Look at other religions to compare. They don't have the Diwali Bunny or the Ramadan Rabbit. You don't see the Hanukkah Hare either. Whereas, here in the largely Christian and western world, we've got characters like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny to obscure the real meaning of serious, and useful holidays like Christmas and Easter.

Western materialism seems to hit a sore spot every year, but at the same time, we've only got ourselves to blame. I like the idea of buying presents for my friends and family. The warm fuzzy feeling of being nice to them wears off when I realize that I've spent far too much money and effort doing it. It's not a balancing act, but after all, it's true: It is better to give than receive.

In retrospect, one of the best Christmas celebrations I ever had was the one where everyone in my immediate family bought me socks. No kidding. One present after another, I opened another pair or package of socks. I couldn't believe it really. At the end of it, I was laughing quite hard at my strange fortune. I realized that my family loved me, but socks? From everyone? Warm and fuzzy indeed.

I hope everyone has a good Christmas this year, and don't let the mayhem and the greedy expectations get in the way of a pleasant break from work and a time to reflect on Christ's impact on our lives. Merry Christmas, Felice Navidad, Hare Krishna and Jah Rastafari!

I Wanna Cap Santa

Fuggit. I am in the Christmas spirit finally, and I am now realizing that my schedule is too damned full to relax and hang out with the people I'd like to see. Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, let it snow, joy to the world.... go get stuffed!

It seems this happens every year. I finally relent, and allow the joy of the Nativity invade my person, and before I know it, the joy is flattened by scheduling conflicts and all the attendant commercial horseshit that comes with it.

If you see a fat guy in a red suit trying to get into your house via the chimney, put a bullet in his fat ass and call the cops. He probably wants to deliver a Visa bill anyway and he won't drink the milk you left out for him because he's lactose intolerant.

A cozy and warm bed is the place to be on a snowy day like today. Grendel has the right idea. I'm going to follow his example as much as possible with this snowstorm.

It's not quite the Iraqi No-Fly Zone or the Berlin Wall, but this pillow seems to have separated the two combatants for now. Spot has settled into a wary truce with Grendel, and Grendel is quite content to sleep most of the time. When he does awake, however, he enjoys nothing better than antagonizing the poor kitty.  

It sure is hard work being the cutest little fugger on the block. Look at the wee tongue hanging out and the glazed eyes! 

Blog Radio Play

Cast of Characters:

Ellis Tripp - a down on his luck private dick.

Athena B. the client and whiny love interest.

Lenore - A mysterious foreign service agent.

Dr. Tamagotchi - the man you love to hate.

Trixie, the stereotypical private detective receptionist.

Late Night Willie - a gravelly voiced gangster.


****************

(Thunderclap and rain sounds)

(voiceover of Tripp)

The rain lashed down like a sadistic mistress with time on her hands and a cat of nine tails. It's an unsettling metaphor, but it was true. The weather had no friends. I'd just finished one of those meals like you see on the animal channel. A big snake like a python or something will happily consume a rat and take the rest of the week to digest it. Just like me. I had strange company over dinner and didn't know what to think. I was happy. but uncomfortable. The stinging rain brought me to my senses and I knew I had to find out more about Athena B.

Athena was one of those high maintenance bitches who never stopped whining about her therapist or the pilates teacher. No matter how well she was doing, the glass was always half empty, and the complaining never stopped. Her annoying nasal whine was getting on my nerves. I might have dismissed her after making a valient attempt at getting into her pants, but she waved a substantial amount of cash under my nose. My demeanor changed immediately. I was all ears.

(Another thunderclap... fade to the sound of cutlery and soft music as you might find at a ritzy restaurant, background chatter)

A: Ellis, ya gotta believe me. Those guys can't be trusted. They're gonna kill me.

ET: That's an awful lot of cash to be waving around. How do you know your life is in danger? I've been tailing the crew for weeks now, and i haven't seen anything that convinces me.

A: You want convincing? Get your lazy beer filled ass out of that chair and drive me down to the port. I wanna introduce you to Late Night Willie. He'll set the record straight.

(voice-over)

I'd heard of Willie before. And what I had heard wasn't encouraging. Willie's reputation made Uday Hussein sound like a boy scout. If Willie wasn't on your side, you'd better sleep with one eye open. Keep a hungry pit-bull by your side. He definitely didn't contribute to the local sick children's hospital.Despite my trepidation, I wanted to get to the bottom of the mystery at hand. Why was Athena B. afraid for her life and what was she doing mixed up with Late Night Willie and the rest of his unsavoury gang of misanthropes and malcontents.

(Sound of ships bell and foghorn)
(Car pulls up and doors open and close)

(voice over)

We pulled onto the dock and parked the car. As we approached the gantry, we met a surly bastard with an attitute and a handlebar moustache that wouldn't quit. I made him an offer he couldn't refuse, and promptly slugged him. There's only one way to deal with this kind of guy. Knock him out cold first and ask for permission to come aboard later.

(Insert sounds of scuffle and the smack of fist on jaw. Body falling)

(sound of shoes on metal deck of ship, creaking doors)

(voice over)

This place stunk like a locker room after the home team took a savage beating. Feral cat urine and mould. Spilt beer and damp cigarette butts. Just the kind of romantic after dinner scene I wanted to take in with Athena.

ET: "OK Ms B., where to now? "

A: Down this hallway Ellis.

(footfalls and knock on metal door)

(voice over)

The prospect of getting face to face with Late Night Willie didn't exactly thrill me, especially after I had just "negotiated" with his security. Athena had dug a big hole for herself, and here I was face to face with the likely cause of all her trouble.

A: Willie, this is Ellis..

(Willie cuts her off)

LNW: Tripp, yeah I know who he is. What did you drag his sorry underfunded ass down here for? It sure aint the ambiance of dis place.

A: Willie, I'm in a pickle, and I've hired Ellis here to find out who is responsible. I've been followed by shadowy figures all week, and all I can think of is that strange man from the Consulate.

LNW: Hrm, Don't worry about him. He'll be taking a little nap under 6 feet of dirt if he isn't careful crossing the street.

A: What? You can't be serious Willie? You're going to become a crossing guard?

LNW: Not exactly Miss B., What can I tell ya Tripp?

ET: So what's got the Foreign Agents involved here Willie? And how is Athena connected?

LNW: Let's just say I got some unfinished business with dose guys from the old sod. They don't take kindly to the idea of me treatin' a fine young woman like Miss B. to a double double and a chocolate croissant.

(voice over)

Here I was with good solid evidence. Athena enjoyed coffee with unsavoury people, and Willie didn't have a knack for making friends, especially with mysterious foreigners. I had a feeling I wouldn't mind a double of something besides coffee to help me figure this thing out.

(sound drops out. set scene to Ellis office. you hear the flimsy glass door open and close as Ellis walks in)

T: Ellis, where ya been? How am I supposed to run this office with no money and the bills pilin' up? I got a baby at home to look after. The ISP called, and the utility department didn't send you a Christmas card in this envelope.

ET: What can I tell you Trixie, your baby is just a chihuahua and I'm working on a case. I've been hired by Athena B., and she's associated somehow with Late Night Willie. Neither of them is exactly forthcoming with anything that resembles details, and it's taking a lot of dough and effort to figure out who would want to let the air out of Athena B.'s tires if you know what I'm saying.

(Ellis ignores Trixie and wanders into his office and closes the door. Clink of bottle and glass as Ellis sits down)

(Ellis has a drink while othercat figures out what to write next..... Probably something to do with Lenore and the evil Dr. Tamagotchi.)

Squeaks Aplenty

Grendel squeaks, but that's expected. The one I was irritated by is the one that came from my new saxophone. The good people at the music store have been kind enough to fix it once already, but the fargin' thing was making a horrible squeaking noise because a couple of pads were rubbing against each other.

A few weeks back, the horn was unplayable because a pad had become loose, and wouldn't close properly. The nice woman who repairs saxophones promptly and cheerfully fixed it up. Much to my chagrin, the very pad that she worked on began to rub against the adjacent one. I made the good old college try of putting some fine oil on the pivot point, but that wasn't the fix. I trudged over to the store one more time to show it to the staffers. The guy who sold me the horn diagnosed and fixed it PDQ which I appreciate immensely.

I have been enthralled with the soprano sax since I got it. It is an ornery beast to play, and I find I have to be much more sensitive than if I were playing the alto sax. I've got to show some admirable restraint and play it with a lot more delicacy. I have a fair bit of lung power after 22 years of sax playing and 2 years of Pilates, so the trick now is to hold that in reserve rather than let it all out. Otherwise the horn is a squeaky and shrill thing that isn't very musical. My fellow bandmates have heard me exclaim "this is a f@%$#&*^ kazoo!" several times.

Having recently purchased a CD by Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter performing piano and soprano sax duets, all I can think of is trying a similar project with Lividviv, who is my favourite pianist. The two of us have a musical rapport that borders on the uncanny at times. At least I think so. I can't speak for Lividviv, but I have seen her smile a few times when we grind our axes together. We've had loads of fun deconstructing pop tunes and playing weird things based on familiar ditties. I figure that nobody should try to recreate the sound of a tune exactly. What's the point unless you put your own thumbprint on it? Hopefully we can drag her back to the jam sessions in the near future. We'll just have to get her fired from her job so she can play with us all the time. (yeah... right) It would be nice. Gainful employment gets in the way of having really good chops.

Now the only squeak I have to worry about is Grendel. He'll stop that soon enough.

This should give everyone a good idea of Grendel's immense stature. Relative to the tennis ball, he's massive. I think he wants to be a Great Dane or an Irish Wolfhound when he grows up.  

How did this happen?

I feel like I've been ushered into parenthood without the benefit of a heterosexual relationship and a pregnancy. PJ and I have a tiny, black-haired creature on our hands, and everything has been turned upside down.

Grendel has been home for just over 24 hours, and it appears that things are a lot different because of it.

Last night I went out for a jar with Sassinak and our mutual friend LL. In between pubs, and a brief stop in the underground stairwell, I jokingkly picked up my shoe-phone and called PJ to check on the baby. As much as it was a gag, I was partially serious. I can't help but think I should keep tabs on the little fugger to make sure he's alright. I'm starting to understand how all those new parents think when they have a newborn in the house. Despite the fact that my baby has four legs instead of two, I can identify.

I had to go to the market this afternoon, and I was faced with the unsettling prospect of arranging baby sitting for Grendel. Did that ever feel weird calling my neighbours to ask if I could drop the little brat off for a bit. With a whole bunch of accessories, and puppy in hand, I headed downstairs to leave him with J and B. Do I ever feel like my independance has evaporated.

It sure feels weird having Grendel around. The only thing that gives me hope is knowing our boy will grow up sooner than a human child will, and I don't have to send him to University. If he learns to keep his mouth shut most of the time and shake a paw, he'll be considered fully educated. He's paper trained and nicely socialized already thanks to the nice people who raised him.

Here's to babies of all kinds everywhere. And even moreso, here's to parents. They've got real issues. I've just got a puppy and I'll get over it.

Tomorrow Auntie Sassinak comes over to meet him.

A small dog in a big world. Grendel is finally home. Spot is not impressed, but G is holding his own and exploring things. He handled the car ride from his hometown to the big city without any grief either. I think it's going to work out fine.