[lit-ideas] Re: The Cat At Whom He Has Hissed

  • From: "Mike Geary" <atlas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • Date: Thu, 29 May 2008 19:28:07 -0500

DR:
"Seventy dollars to come and sixty dollars for an "hour's" labor,
which actually lasted fifteen minutes."


A $70 service charge! Where the hell was he coming from? Memphis? Wow, no wonder I'm struggling.

Mike Geary
Memphis




----- Original Message ----- From: "David Ritchie" <ritchierd@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
To: <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
Sent: Thursday, May 29, 2008 4:51 PM
Subject: [lit-ideas] Re: The Cat At Whom He Has Hissed


"The Countdown Has Begun!" is how the Evergreen Air and Space museum, of which I am a member, warns me to expect an appearance by "Titan II expert Chuck Rash." Isn't Chuck Rash an excellent name for an astronauty sort of person? Straight out of a dime novel: like Buck Rush, Dirk Rich or Cat Vim; quite unlike Bartelby Merely-Comfortable and nobs of that ilk. Chuck Rash, or as he is known to intimates, Charles "Horse" Rash, is an ideal name for such a Titan feller.

If you're from Riddle, Oregon however, it's better to be a Cloid. I haven't run into many Cloids in my life. The newspaper says Rita Ferschweiler met this one somewhere, and married him in Gervais in 1945. As Mr. and Mrs. Wigle, they then moved to Riddle, where they had five children, two of whom were Richard and Rod.

How am I currently occupying myself? Still cleaning up and sorting through postponed piles of paper. I took four boxes of books to Powells; they bought ten vols, awarding me a massive twenty eight dollar credit, rejected the rest. I'm considering what to do next. The library bookstore may be headed for a windfall.

Two of our family are currently at the vet with Gilbert, one of our two elderly cats. Having lived a full and healthy barn-cat existence, Gilbert started being friendly a couple of months ago and now is not eating. These are bad signs in a barn-cat. Worse, he now even snuggles up to Sullivan, the cat at whom he has hissed for nearly all his existence.

Daughter just called to say that the cat has a fever and a full bladder and they're going to run tests. Old guy stuff, is my diagnosis, with bills to come. Yesterday, when I was leaving for a meeting, our door lock suddenly stuck. I disassembled the thing to the best of my knowledge, risking arriving late to the meeting, but eventually there was nothing for it but to call the lock person. Seventy dollars to come and sixty dollars for an "hour's" labor, which actually lasted fifteen minutes.

We academics are in the wrong line of business. We should be disassembling locks and fixing the bladders of elderly cats. Instead where are we? Standing in the rain watering nay-chah, metaphorically that is. See Bev Hogue's blog for details: http:// excelsiorbev.blogspot.com/

Tomorrow I chair the St. Andrew's Society meeting, my first as President. Note the capital "p." I have thought about calling my crabbing boat the "Quite Vincible." These two facts are not related.

Carry on.

David Ritchie,
Portland, Oregon

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