Pets

If you have never met my cat Frankenstein much of what I am about to say will sound crazy. At the risk of portraying myself as one of those “cat people” I am going to share the new developments. Frank is a very unique cat. His distinct and fickle personality is the only reason I have him. He never likes to be held or cuddled. At the same time he always wants to be in the same vicinity as the action. Any physical contact is strictly on his terms only. And every so often he is simply a jerk chasing and biting people randomly. His favorite person to harass is Aaron, who considers himself a pants prisoner as a result of trying to protect his girlish legs from the Frank onslaught. His bad behavior has been getting worse since our last move. I am sure it is a side effect of the new training routine involving blasts of water for any unwanted behavior. We also had the idea that he was bored and needed to go outside. As our apartment is on the 2nd floor of a secure building letting him in and out at his leisure would be a difficult task. We decided as a solution to build him a bridge or cat walk if you will from our deck to the hillside behind our place. I enlisted the help of our houseguest Frank (the person) for the project. Frank (the person) being an engineer told me it would take 8 months and a million dollars. While he was busy trying to organize an environmental survey to assess the impact, Aaron and I built and installed the bridge. I was sure that Frank (the cat) would instantly run across the bridge to freedom. He refuses to use the bridge however. He stands at the end and meows but will not advance forward. The term “scardy cat” is very fitting here. We are going to add some railings, which Frank (the person) tells me will cost a million dollars and 8 months to build. Until then Aaron will continue to wear his pants and my coworkers will continue to think I cut myself from all the scars on my forearms.
In related news George and I set up the fish tank we found on moving day. It’s a small five gallon tank which we put two cichlids in. Mine is named Harpo Jr. Jr. Jr. Jr, in honor of all the Harpos that came before. George also is fostering a Costal California King snake which is really neat. We feed him mice on Sundays. We keep a bag of frozen mice in the freezer, so be careful if you are every rummaging in there for ice. I also learned from our new friends at the pet store that you can legally buy and keep alligators in Rhode Island. I am thinking of taking a road trip this weekend and picking me up a few. We can dig a moat for that cat-bridge and keep the riff-raft out!

Sports fans

Most of you are aware that I am not much of a sports fan. This lack of enthusiasm for disgustingly overpaid sweaty meatheads combined with my lack of interest in video games causes some to question my manhood. Even though I can lift almost 50 lbs right over my head! The questioning looks and insults have never bothered me much. However living in Boston without even a rudimentary support for the local teams prompts some to overlook your mere existence. I will admit that being surrounded by such communal excitement has enticed my interest. So when the chance for me to pick up some season tickets for the New England Patriots arose, I took it. Yesterday was my first professional football game. I have always enjoyed college football games but usually the mentality centers on a reason to party rather than the actual game.
I took a chartered train from Boston to Gillette Stadium with a few thousand die hard patriot fans. Scattered sparsely in the sea of red white and blue were a few turquoise Dolphin jerseys. I felt sorry for the loyal fans as they were verbally brutalized by every fan young and old. I witnessed a ninety year old lady sporting a Tom Brady jersey tell a Dolphin fan he should be riding on the outside of the train. I followed the stream of partially intoxicated folks into the largest stadium I have ever seen. The uppermost seats crested hundreds of feet in the sky surrounded by clouds. I wondered if a seat that high came with supplemental oxygen. Because my inherited tickets came from a gentleman with season tickets since 1970, my seats were much better. I sat right near midfield about halfway up with a great view of the entire field and free of any rowdy fans seated behind. Right away I decided that some people take football way too seriously. Setting geographic pride aside, it is after all, just a game. As the game progressed the stunning self-righteous roar of the local fans diminished. The underdog Dolphins at first slowly and then with increasing dominance ran right over the alpha Patriots. The term “fair-weather-fan” was defined as the stadium started clearing out before the end of the third quarter. Since it was a nice day, and because I didn’t care who won, I stayed until the Patriots third or fourth string quarterback downed the last play. The ride home on the same train was much quieter save the cheers of jubilation from the previously humble Dolphins fan. The Patriots winning record of 19 games was shattered by the worst ranked team in the NFL. I had a great time at the game regardless; I am a Dallas Cowboy’s fan anyway!

Settling in

We have been in our new apartment for a few weeks now. While is does not quite feel like home yet, it is comfortable. We have three bedrooms and two bathrooms in Washington Square. There are many fantastic restaurants and bars only minutes from our door. I have also learned that one can run from my bedroom to the subway in less than 2 minutes. I can hear the trains approaching and they do not leave me behind. We have a dinning room complete with dinning table and wet bar. The best part about the new place is that when I return at the end of a day, it looks just how I left it. I can also relax in my living room without the chance of a foreigner with little English skills, or a troupe of foreigners for that matter walking in. I don't think Frank the cat is adjusting as well. He has developed a new habit of pulling things off bookshelves. He also likes to sit in the foyer and meow for no apparent reason. His angst may be partially due to the recent training. I purchased some new furniture to class up the place and don't want him scratching it all up. He gets sprayed if I even see him thinking about it. Those that know Frank also can tell you he is very clever. The new game is he will scratch or jump someplace off limits but as soon as you reach for the spray bottle he runs off. Just when you let your guard down he returns to the scene of the crime and repeats the offense. It’s like drive by scratching and biting. I hope he calms down when I feel comfortable and release him into the streets of Brookline again. I would not be surprised to find him continuing the mischief in the streets with the skunks and wild turkeys the roam the neighborhood.