As I keep aging, and time continues on – I am so grateful that I have old friends. People that have known me from adolescence to awkward adulthood; and vice versa. We don’t see each other as much as we should, and text seems to be to communication platform of choice. But man, even this morning, with a few simple texts, I was laughing and feeling so much better about everything. It’s great having people who know how to push the right buttons.
My wife found this picture online the other day:
It’s for a product that you can find at Wal-Mart, and I want to say that I am in no way endorsing or criticizing the need or use of this product… But I will say that I think the cat in this photo is formulating a plan to kill their owner while they sleep.
I have noticed lately that I keep finding news stories in my feed about people whose side hustle has started earning them six figures. This “side hustle” is usually making print on demand items with funny phrases on it, dog walking, or reviewing products for Amazon. This reminds me of all the “get rich quick” schemes from the 80’s; MLM, work from home, shady investing… Has anyone thought about a side hustle which you are a consultant to help people figure out what their side hustle should be?
You guys! The USA landed on the moon! We haven’t landed on the lunar surface since 1972. And when I say “we” I mean a private company that landed a probe, but still – American stuff is back on the moon. I actually do think this is rather cool news, but I also can’t help but feel underwhelmed by it. We have entered the era of private space exploration and exploitation. I hope we do a better job in this age of “exploring for profits,” than the last time. It’s bad enough that there are tons of space junk floating around in low orbit which we have no plan on cleaning up. I would hate to think that the moon is going to get trashed up, and Mars might have Tesla billboards.
In my core of being, I am a cat person. Now, I do have a dog, and I love my dog, and dogs are great. But I do miss having a pet that tolerates me. Gives me affection when they want to. And who slaps me in the face when they want me to wake up. I’ve always been suspicious of blind loyalty.
I’m working on breaking my IG addiction. I don’t post as much as I used to, and I guess I should rectify that if I’m building a brand here. What I do find myself doing on IG is watching home improvement and renovation videos. Especially people who put up drywall and tiles. Part of it is the desire to be more “handy” which I feel is a measure of “manliness” is our culture. But I also know that if I am to buy a home in the near future, there will be an element of having to “fix it up.” I want to believe that I will be able to take on these home projects and watching videos is a good way to prep for that eventuality. So, I’m doing myself a service but spending all my time on this. Right? Yeah…
I’m guessing here, but I’ve written close to 100 reviews for my blog. And when I write one, I try to come up with some catchy opening, or hook, or gimmick in the first paragraph to get you, the reader, interested in reading further. The reason I do this is mainly because that’s how I was taught to write essays and critical papers in high school and college. Effective? Yeah, sure. Original? Not really. (Now, watch how I do this.) “Chance the Cat” is such a story that has a hook, a gimmick as one would say, that David Means employees to tell his story.
What “Chance the Cat” really is, is a deconstructed bittersweet rom-com with a cat and a Secret Service agent, which employees the gimmick of starting each section/paragraph by asking “Does it matter…” or stating “What mattered was…” or some other variant of the aforementioned questions/statement. Of the 49 section/paragraphs, only 5 do not use this hook. There must be a reason for this, right? Those 5 parts must contain some weight to them, because dramatically, when a pattern is created in the narrative, inevitable it will be broken for effect. I am not faulting Means for this structure in his storytelling, merely identifying it.
I bring all of this up because, as I said earlier, the story is a com-com. There is a meet cute, a budding relationship, a jointly cared for cat, a break up, and then the melancholy remembrance of the time shared. There are jumps in time, as the story doesn’t follow a linear format, which works well with the bittersweet tone of the story. I enjoyed how the story played with how disparate people come together, the crutch they use to stay together, in this story the cat, and how as time passes, it still isn’t clear how one should deal with those emotions from that time together. Using the “Does it matter…” “What mattered…” gimmick plays very well into that theme.
Did I mention the Secret Service agent? Yeah… this is the only issue I had with the story. (Well, it was a little long in parts…) You see, this couple lives down the street from the Obama’s in Chicago, and as such, there are Secret Service agents on the block checking people who live there as they come and go. Being that this information is essential to the breakup and the climax to the story, I found it an odd decision to share this with us about 2/3 way through the piece. A good amount of time is spent on this agent, whose purpose in the narrative is only to annoy the guy so he loses the cat. That’s it. The agent doesn’t weigh on the girl’s mind years later, nor is there some sort of connection between the girl and the agent, which I thought would happen as it would play into the complication of the central relationship. That was just me hoping for something to justify the agents existence.
I try very hard not to impose what I want to see happen in a story, but only to analyze and critically examine what the writer has presented to the reader. I kind’a fudged this one. In my defense, except for one character choice, I did enjoy “Chance the Cat.” I enjoyed the structure David Means created to tell this story, and there are many details that layered and deepened the central characters. But that agent…
(And then I got an anonymous comment this morning telling me that the story was about race, and how it was mind boggling that I could miss that. At first I left a quip about boggling minds, thanked the person for their comment, and asked what they thought the Agent represented.
I went about my day, but that comment kept poking at the back of my head. Was the story all about race? Could that be right? And if that was true, did I honestly completely miss that?
So, I went back and reread the story… and I took a whiff on this one.
And I’m embarrassed by that.
Rereading the piece, I now see what I missed and glossed over. Especially William’s reaction to the agent stopping him.
Something still doesn’t sit right with me when it comes to this story. I will stick with my original reaction of the Obama’s being down the street, along with the introduction of the Agent, 2/3rds of the way through the story. That Agent and all of his passages still feel odd to me; not fitting in with the rest of the flow of the story.
But I think the bigger question in all of this, is why did I whiff so hard on this piece? What I wrote in the last paragraph of my original review reveals everything, and shows my mistake. As I reread the piece, I began to discover how I had errored; I didn’t critically analyze what David Means presented, but started to impose in my mind what I wanted the story to be and glossed over what didn’t fit in with my judgement. I got caught up in thinking I knew better. That was my mistake. I want to own up to, and promise to do better.
Also, I want to thank the anonymous commenter who did an appropriate job of smacking me upside the head.)
Okay, so maybe me and the wife drank a bottle of cheap white wine last night, and maybe we tried to do some online shopping while I was watching the Cowboy game. And maybe we found a semi inappropriate plush cat on Amazon. And maybe I did text out a picture of that plush cat to a friend who I thought would find it extremely hilarious. Look, when me and the wife saw that cat, we laugh/cried for like ten minutes. My friend didn’t find it as funny. Sure, they found it funny, just not that funny. It’s a giant plush cat, with giant plush balls! Just read the reviews! The people who bought this cat are also in awe that a cat of this form exists in the world. C’mon People!
Seems like everyone is showing off their Spotify Wrapped year in review. I am surprised that my Wrapped does not contain The Beatles in my Top 5. They have always claimed a spot on the list, but not this year. I’m not sharing my list, that’s personal, but I will answer that Peach Pit was my big winner. And when this time of year comes around, I do have to tip my cap and admire the marketing team at Spotify for coming up with this little data stunt. I mean, you get everyone to humble-brag about what the listen to; it dominates the news cycle for a day or two because it’s a fluff story, but it always seems like we need a fluff story; most importantly, it’s easily shared on social media. Bravo, Spotify marketing team, bravo! I hope whomever came up with this idea got promoted and earned a cushy job teaching a class on online marketing at an Ivy League school.
It’s that time of year when I grow a beard. For the record, my wife and kid hate that I do this, and what they object to is that my face, understandably, becomes course and scratchy. See, there is no logic to why I do this, but the last time I shaved was on Thanksgiving, and then I just grow a beard through New Year’s. Being that it’s a New Year, I’ll shave the beard, but leave a moustache. (And the wife and kid REALLY hate when I have a moustache.) Now, I’ll keep the moustache until the Super Bowl. Why? No reason. Just something to do. The point here is to be back to being clean shaven by Valentine’s Day, because I’m not stupid.
Walking the kid to school this morning, she told me that she didn’t want to get married when she grew up. What she wanted was two dogs, a cat, a rabbit, and that she would be a doctor. I told that sounded like a good idea; there are a lot of people out there who don’t get married, and are very happy.
She asked me if I always wanted to get married.
I said no, but when I met her mother, I changed my mind. That’s what happens when you meet important people, they make you think differently about things.
Then the kid asked me if I had a girlfriend before mom.
I did.
Does mom know you had a girlfriend before her?
She does.
Did you kiss this girlfriend?
I did.
DOES MOM KNOW THAT!
She does.
Then the kid thought about this for a while, and then concluded, I’m glad you married mom because it’s weird to think I would have had a different mom.
And I remember thinking the same thing when I was a kid talking to my parents about how they started dating. That if things didn’t work out between my parents, I would still have been born, but just to a different mother, or by chance a different father. But whatever the pairing, I would have come into existence.
I kind’a assumed that this childish thought that I had about my birth was due to my catholic upbringing. Having been taught that my soul was eternal, and that I would always exist, it was just a matter of God grabbing me and throwing me down to Earth to be born. That God had a plan for me, and that my birth and parents were just a necessary step in the process of my existence.
But for my daughter, we aren’t raising her with religion. (That is a blog for a different day.) We don’t shy away from conversations about God and religion, but she hasn’t been giving the stories of how God made her soul, and sent her down to mom’s womb. She’s been told the truth, that she is a creation of a little bit of mom, and a little bit of dad, and when it’s put together, it creates an original her, unlike anyone else in the world. Yet, she still believes that her existence is inevitable. That there was nothing that would stop her coming into being.
This isn’t a surprising revelation, now that I think about it. Can anyone really think of a world where they weren’t in it?
