Ten Minutes of Wild Kingdom.

 

 

Here we see the cat, standing at the door and wistfully looking outside.  He silently prays for me to set down the camera and use my thumbs to open the door for him.  In his mind, I am certain he is thinking about shredding the top of my Jeep in retribution for my complete lack of haste.  Soon, he will start his odd, little series of barks and whimpers, and when that is still met with inaction, he will heave a great sigh like a captured, defeated felon.

 

   Then, with the frustrated wail of a spoiled child in a toy-store, he appeals to me as if to demonstrate that the universe within which we live may very well shred itself to pieces should I refuse to open the door.   

 

    Eventually, I give in to his tantrum and accept the fact that this beast will probably never be content to simply stay indoors and make me jealous by sleeping on the couch.  So, I open the door and grant him the breath of freedom he so desperately craves.  I expect him to go flying into the wilderness of the front yard with a wild, excited leap, but he simply steps out slowly, takes three steps and sits down to wash his paws which obviously had become soiled and filthy during his vast exodus from front door to front porch --a grueling journey of about four feet.  

 

    While he's having his little bath, I grab a cup of coffee and my curiosity leads me to follow him.  And, as if waiting for me, when I step onto the porch, he barks, walks down the steps and I follow him around to the backyard where he spots an unsuspecting shrub and decides to slink up to it.      

 

    

    I am amazed by his instinctive predatory skills as he moves slowly upon the unsuspecting tuft of decorative grass.  For a moment, I find myself wanting to scream.  I need to warn this tuft ofvegetation that its life is in danger.  But,I remain silent.  This is life inside the foodchain of my backyard, and I must not interfere with way of nature.  The cat will only attack the slow and the sick of the herd of grass that makes up the lawn; thus, insuring a stronger backyard in the future. 

 

    As an observer of nature, I must remain neutral in this never-ending battle for survival.  Many times, as a part of its natural defenses, I've watched the tuft of decorative grass use its camoflage in order to appear as a boring piece of lanscape foliage, thus baffling the cat to the point that it loses interest.

 

 

    Unfortunately, as it is caught unaware, and with no time to react to the cat's presence, the foliage is quickly overcome and soon captured within the sharp claws and biting fangs of the cat. 

    

     Yes.  It is a gruesome display, but who am I to question the way of nature?  I am merely here to document the eternal struggle for survival which exists between Cat and Tuft of Decorative Grass.  It is a struggle as old as the backyard itself.  The mighty Cat and Tuft of Grass have been locked in this battle since man first planted Tuft of Grass in the backyard.  

 

 

 

    Here we see the cat, having completely overtaken the unfortunate tuft of decorative grass, now perched in a regal display of triumph and backyard supremacy.  It is at this time that the observer must be very cautious as the cat is very protective of his recently captured prey, and a simple swipe of the razor-sharp claws can easily give the perceived usurper a nasty scratch that could very-well get infected.

 

    Yes.  I am afraid.  But, my fear is lessened by the fact that I am documenting one of the genuine wonders of the backyard animal kindom. 

 

    Unforuntately, as I approached the cat, the wind suddenly shifted as it often does upon the backyard, and the cat caught wind of me.  And, as he realized the presence of opposable thumbs in the area, cat stepped away from his recent catch and ran toward the back door to whine and wail in demand to be let in from the wild. 

 

 

    Fortunately, I was able to capture one final picture of the cat as he abandoned the defeated tuft of decorative grass.  I then followed the cat into the kitchen where my thumbs were put to good use by opening a can of Trout Feast.  There are no fish upon the stark, open space of the backyard, and apparently, the cat was in the mood for seafood. 

 

 

-DP

Milwaukee Expedition: 2006

A Little Rarity.

    I don't usually take part in John Scalzi's Photo Assignments, but this week he made it a "grab-bag" with the hopes that we would post pictures that would make him say "whoa."  So, with that in mind, here's a picture I took some time ago when gas was cheap, and the road trip I was on found me bouncing around Mount St. Helens.

   

    The strange thing is, I get the same look from human mothers as I drive by when their children are playing in the road.  Don't worry.  I'm careful, and I completely understand that sometimes it's next to impossible keeping the kids in the yard.  But, judging by the look on the doe's face, it seems like this sort of thing happens a lot.   

    But, I do get a kick out of how the little fellow has all four wheels off the pavement and seems to be having the time of his life.  Wheeeee!

Tag: Monday Photo Shoot

 

Joe Six Pack (redux)

 

    Now, being from Milwaukee, my people invented the six-pack.  In fact, my family once owned a brewery that went belly-up during the time of Prohibition, and, as a result, my ancestors had to sober up and get real jobs.  So, in honor of those former beer-makers, the theme of this Six-Pack is "People I'd Like to Have a Beer With."  So, here goes:

• Aurora Walking Vacation    --Not every Canadian eats raw seal meat and lives in an igloo.  Some of them have a house, a crazy sense of humour and a great talent for getting people to understand all sides of any issue. 
• Welcome to My Life     --Holly is funny --strike that!  Holly is REALLY funny.  If you can read her blog without cracking a smile, then you probably should check your pulse.  If you find that you are without a pulse, then you might be interested in reading her Fictional Vampire Journal.  She caters to both crowds. 
• Rachael Anne Rules the World    --I think everyone should have a beer with at least one free-wheeling theologian at some point in their lives, and, to me, Rachael is a constant reminder that, in the right hands, religion can be a very good thing.  So, stop by here, say hello and give Kimo a virtual scratch behind the ears. 
• Passer domesticus    --If there is such a thing in this world as a "reasonably domesticated gypsy," it's this woman and mother.  In reading her "100 Things," (currently at #121) it's clear that this life is not so much a moveable feast, insofar that it's kind of like a perpetually relocating kegger with great snacks and a lot of laughs. 
• Eau de Humanity!    --Lee's a great guy with a great sense of humor, a sharp wit, and a knack for the comical side of all things logical.  Plus,you never know what kind of silliness you'll stumble across on this blog from time to time. 
• HEY, I'M COUNTRY!    --Amanda is barely old enough to drink, but her observations on life and the world around her is just a lot of fun to read.  She strikes me as someone who never stops laughing.  But, more importantly, she's really finding her talent in this world, and I have a feeling that her readers may one day say, "I knew her when she was just a country girl who wrote a lot about shoes." 

    Well, here are just six of the many many people out there with whom I would enjoy sharing a beer.  There's a lot more out there, I'm sure. 

 

-Dan

P.S.  I agree with Paul.  I also think Joe needs a haircut (Still...  I wouldn't mind having a beer with Joe either, but posting his blog in my six pack could achieve a level of redundancy from which humanity might never be able to escape the clutches of its infinite loop).   

 

Tag: Six-Pack Picks

Egads!

    I swear, some of the things people pull out of their heads is simply baffling. 

    When I was reading the news this morning, I came across the following piece that had me scratching my head:

    Movie News - Cardinal Urges Legal Action Against 'Da Vinci' - AOL News

    VATICAN CITY (May 8) - In the latest Vatican broadside against "The Da Vinci Code," a leading cardinal [Cardinal Francis Arinze of Nigeria], says Christians should respond to the book and film with legal action because both offend Christ and the Church he founded.

    Now, I don't understand what sort of "legal action" he's contemplating, but what if I were to say that I would like to take legal action against the Catholic Church for offending me with almost two-millenia of human-rights abuses, censorship, the suppression of free thought, and the time that I almost blew out my ACL during a six-hour Catholic wedding?         

    There are many people out there who consider the Bible to be a work of fiction along the same lines as Dan Brown's book, and no one is required to give either book any weight whatsoever in their personal lives or their personal relationship with whatever God they choose to worship or not worship.

    Cardinal Arinze goes on to say:

    "Christians must not just sit back and say it is enough for us to forgive and to forget," Arinze said in the documentary made by Rome film maker Mario Biasetti for Rome Reports, a Catholic film agency specializing in religious affairs.

    "Sometimes it is our duty to do something practical. So it is not I who will tell all Christians what to do but some know legal means which can be taken in order to get the other person to respect the rights of others," Arinze said.

   "This is one of the fundamental human rights: that we shouldbe respected, our religious beliefs respected, and our founder Jesus Christ respected," he said, without elaborating on what legal means he had in mind.

 

    Hopefully, I am not the only one who sees the glaring hypocracy of these statements.  He doesn't want respect.  He wants to silence other beliefs.  By calling for the censorship of a set of beliefs which differ from his own, Cardinal Arinze is demanding that Christians violate the very "fundamental human rights" that he himself is expecting us to respect.  It's baffling how this man is looked upon as a learned member of the Catholic Church when he openly displays his complete and utter lack of both tolerance and understanding.  It's ridiculously arrogant and ignorant to assume that Christianity is the ONLY belief-system that deserves respect in accordance with human rights. 

 

    Personally, it's infuriating to see that there are members of the Catholic Church who still have yet to free themselves from the mindset present during the days of the Inquisition.  And, considering Cardinal Arinze's statements, it's clear that he is perhaps the LEAST qualified to discuss "fundamental human rights."   

 

Okay, now I can end my rant.... 

 

Too nice...

   I'm sorry, but it's just too darn gorgeous outside today.  Plus, I've been looking for an excuse to play with my chainsaw, and rather than unleash a maniacal, pajama-clad, 2:00 am spree of destruction upon my neighbor's ridiculously loud Harley Davidson, I think it's time I deal with an unruly apple-tree that's been begging to have its lifeless limbs tossed into the fire pit to sate my selfish pyromaniacal side. 

    Let's see...  It will take a chainsaw, some matches, a bottle of wine and probably some sort of charred meat before all is said and done. 

   I love Sundays.  Don't you?

-Dan

 

Assignment #110

    Great.  Just wonderful.  I've got a blistering brain-ache, and John Scalzi's poking around in my head for this weekend's assignment (why the guy can't develop a "normal" hobby like tennis or molecular biology, is beyond me).  This time, he's asked about the dreams we've recently had.  So, get your therapist on the phone; this is going to be one, silly trip...

 

    Some of the more reasonable dreams I've had lately consist of my ex-girlfriend running around setting my house on fire while I'm trying to read my email and eat my lunch.  She moves around me with inhuman speed as she silently bounces from room to room setting things ablaze in her typically cute and adorable little way.  Finally, when the house was consumed in smoke and flames, I woke up.

 

    Last night, I had a dream that I was pedaling my mountain bike down a dusty road in Wisconsin's backwater farmland, when I rode up behind an old woman who was also out getting a little exercise on what seemed to be a very pleasant day.  

 

    However, the odd thing was, the old, gray-haired woman was dressed exactly like me.  And, try as I may, I simply could not pass her.  So, me and my geriatric doppleganger continued along, and all the while I kept pulling out to pass, and she kept turning my pleasant ride into a brutal, body-breaking workout.  And, when I woke up, the first thing that popped into my mind was, "why didn't I just jam my tire-pump into her front spokes?" 

 

    Now, as for the extra-credit:  "Sleep to Dream Her," by The Dave Matthews Band (do I get bonus points for using BOTH words? 

 

Carry on Citizens,

Dan

 

Tag: Weekend Assignment

The Perfect Vacation...

 

    Recently, I received a questionaire in my email.  You know the ones.  They usually contain questions like, "have you ever loved someone who made you cry?"  And "what's your favorite food" --simple, useful interrogatives designed to delve deeper into the lives of those with time-enough to answer.

 

    However, within this quasi-Proustian set of questions, one lept from the page and tickled my brain:  "What is your dream vacation?"

 

    I had to think about that one as I found myself scrambling for places I've been, and places I'd like to see.  I searched my collection of pictures and memories.  Venice popped to mind.  I've always had fun in Venice, and they really dig me at the Hotel San Marco, as I've been known to hang out the window of my room and strike up odd conversations with anyone foolish enough to pass beneath.  But, there was something wrong with that. I've done that, and I'd like to think my "dream vacation" would be something new, exciting and far more unique than the typical ugly, drunk American who's had too much Averna and Peroni.  Been there, done that, and I've got the stains on my shirt to prove it.

 

    Antarctica?  I thought.  I've never been there, and I do have this funny desire to set foot on all seven of this planet's continents.  Plus, penguins seem kind of cute.  There's plenty of sun and lots of really good fishing.  But, I live in Wisconsin.  I am familiar with the cold enough to know that I really don't like it, and from what I gather, it's pretty damn cold on the South Pole.  Global warming would be a huge boost to our planet's polar tourism industry, but it's such a long way off that making any sort of travel reservations, at this point, might seem kind of foolish. 

 

    Then, while watching an episode of House with my a head full of Benadryl ultra-Fog, drool-in-your-lap alergy medication, my dream vacation sprung happily into my mind, and I found myself growing giddy at the thought of it.  

 

    I want to be put into a medically-induced coma for two weeks.  Think about it?  No packing.  No jet-lag.  No perky, little travel agents who chatter like happy little muppets in an attempt to make a Czech oil-refinery an attractive must-see on any itinerary.  And, no mind-baffling exchange rates designed to benefit the Swiss and some guy in Singapore with too much time on his hands.  It is, in my opinion, the world's most-perfect destination. 

 

    After all, why do we take vacations?  We take them for rest, and what's more restful than non-stop sleeping for two weeks?  I don't even have to get up and fumble my way across a foreign landscape in order to use the bathroom.  This friggin' rocks!  Just plug me in, hook me up, knock me out, and forgive me for my lack of postcards. 

 

-Dan