It's a cold day on the Pond; the weather outside is frightful [ i.e. rain and cold and dreary ] but inside it's so delightful.
Kitty is upstairs wrestling with her voluminous paperwork; Penny lies beside her resting after devouring a quick snack of dogfood and a coppola of chicken nuggests provided by yours truly; Neil, our black cat, is waiting for the nite time bugs to enter the house, so he can play with them; Charlie is at Hard Knocks High School learing the 3 r's; Katlain is mired in her perpetual daydream of becoming a famous rock star, allah Joan Jett, Brenda Carlisle, and Babs Streisand, er, the girls from "The Bangles;" and I'm just sittin' here watchin' the wheels go 'round and 'round.
Old Betsy, my ride who takes me to and fro, is in the shop getting an oil change; having a diagnostic checkup-seems ye old "check engine light" came on unannounced;and the old gal's anti-freeze is leaking. A slow one at that.
As the keys get pecked into oblivion, I'm watching an old b/w thrilla with Dana Andrews and Joan Fontaine entitled "Beyond a Reasonable Doubt." Damn, they just fried a scumbag via the electric chair at the beginning of the movie, while they were rolling the credits. The "chair" sequences in "The Green Mile" with Tom Hanks were more believable than this one. "Reasonable" was made in 1956 ergo the difference.
They really smoke the cigarettes in these old yarns. Dana has lit up 4 in the first five minutes even lighting one from another. [ ye old "chain smoke routine to which we smokers have all been guilty ] And Joan smokes, too. And her dad is smoking a pipe. Seems the jist of the story concerns "capitol punishment," yea or nay. Hey, they had issues in the 50's, too. Smoking was evidently way down the list.
I love days like this. Rainy and cold. Not a day out for man nor beast. It's a good day to write, but here's hoping for a massive snowstorm to really get in the mood. Here lately this writer has been experiencing difficulties in organizing thoughts onto paper or the computer screen. My memory cells drift back to November 2003, when I posted a reply to pictru on the FRG Board. My buddy hoots replied to my reply by saying:
"Cat, if the day comes when you don't have a Piccadilly environoment to keep your blood pressure up, you may find your writing talents slipping. Your style lies somewhere between poetry and prose, with just enough reality to defy classification as either fiction or non-fiction. Very gifted. Keep it up."
Maybe he nailed me, as I don't have the rowdy environs that plagued me for 30 years. My main strength was always bouncing off someone. When Slippery, my old schoolmate from Rowdy High, responded this week to one of my posts, my keybored, as if on automatic pilot, hammered out a reply in no time.
So, dear reader, if you want the cat to get on a roll, you've got to point him in the write direction.
Btw, Kitty is through with her voluminous work dreaming of whisking her life back to the future circa 1969; Penny wants to go outside while dreaming of Chick-Fil-A nuggets; Neil is taking another nap while dreaming of bugs;
Charlie just got home from Rowdy, er, Hardknocks High, dreaming of kool chicks and life one day without school; and Katlain is playing air guitar while fantasizing of becoming the next Madonna; and I'm just watchin' the wheels. No longer ridin' on the merry-go-round; I just had to let 'em go.
The following foray into the infantile is submitted for your approval and perusal.
P.S. Tonite's foray included an exaggerated use of semi-colons.
P.S.S. Good guy Dana Andrews' perfect murder scheme backfires and is sentenced to prison and a date with the chair. We wish him well, as cigarettes are better than money in the joint. Maybe Joan Fontaine quit the nicotine habit after her boyfriend [ Dana ] almost got away with duping her and the d.a.
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