Got the Jimmy Legs

I never thought that I would end up here

2009-07-03T12:11:00.003-04:00

So for some reason our company did not give us the day off. I guess it's because 4th of July falls on Saturday this year, and Saturday is still not officially a 'day off' like Sunday is. This seems pretty stupid to me, it's like everyone silently agrees not to call Saturday a holiday even though most 9-to-5ers would blanch at the idea of working on a Saturday. So my company seizes on this opportunity to wuss out on a Friday off by giving us a 'floating holiday.' This means we're given the right to take a day off at some point this year ... just probably not today. I found out about this too late (apparently) to get Friday off, so now I'm trying to weasel out of here early. Then it's off to the Brooklyn Historical Society to determine what we can about the history of our house. I don't know what information might be available, but we're gonna check it out in any case. Worse case, we don't find anything useful but we still get to go to Sahadi's after for big tubs of the best hummus in town!

I think we're seeing the Fresh Kills at Union Pool on the 4th, aside from that I never get that excited about this as a holiday. I hate fireworks for some reason, so I rarely look forward to it. Meanwhile, the kids in the neighborhood LOVE fireworks, and express this by amassing explosive devices in the weeks leading up to the 4th, from those annoying little things you throw that pop, to elaborate sky blossoms that they shoot off in the street. Miraculously nobody has set their house on fire yet, though there was a fire truck out on our street for a while last night. I kind of hope it rains on Saturday. I'm such a wet blanket.

My view stretches out from the fence to the wall

2009-07-01T15:11:00.001-04:00

Gazing out, originally uploaded by Jimmy Legs.

One of the things that sold me on our house (aside from the fact we couldn't afford anything else we looked at) was the size of the kitchen. It's a 22x11 foot room with a lot of counter space and one really old sink. Its only downside was its lack of light. It's on the ground floor and the only light came through a tiny window (and a little from the open vent in the wall meant for a range hood.)

The back door was a big metal exterior door. Soon after we moved in I decided to change the lockset on it, as the existing one was rusty and rinky-dink. The same night I chose to irrevocably remove the old knob (I had to pry it out in pieces) was the same night the people who lived behind the hosue on the next street decided to have a loud argument, which led to a loud fight, which led to a loud round on gunfire. It was our first "on the block" experience with shootings, and definitely the first time we literally didn't have a door to hide behind. I will never forget that night, standing half in and half out of the house, struggling to remove the old hardware while somebody protected their precious reputation (the argument involved the oft-elusive 'respect' one participant was not receiving in kind from others.) At no time did I think, "I've made a huge mistake buying this house," after all we'd explored the neighborhood a lot before committing to buy. No, what I thought was, "I hate this fucking door." I got the new knob in and engaged the deadbolt, safely inside. The crisis was over but I never stopped hating that ugly-ass door.

So it's been nearly 3 years since then and while the door still hasn't gotten me shot, it's proving hateful right back at us. Its wood frame warped in humid weather, which as you know, has been pretty much every day so far in 2009. You have to literally slam against it to get it open, at which time a bunch of cats would either run in or out, depending on which side had food left. The door sucked, we needed more light in the kitchen ... a glass door seemed obvious.

Actually it seemed obvious over a year ago, when I first got a guy out for an estimate. Disagreement between me and my lady led to apathy and we never got the door. So this year, when we got our tax refunds we committed to get rid of the old door, so I got the same sad-sack salesman to come out and measure the door again (did it grow or something?) and pick out a glass door and accompanying security door.

It took them 6 weeks to get back out to install it (after a gentle reminder) and after a few false starts we finally have it! It's a total generic door, I guess there's not a whole lot of creativity at this level of industry, but it's doing the trick. Having two doors is a little cumbersome, but at least I can open both with a couple of fingers instead of concentrating all my force onto my shoulder as I try to bash my way outside.

The cat are fascinated by it; Stymie tried to jump 'through' the glass door and received an unfortunate lesson. They line up at the door to peer into the yard. And the feral cats line up outside to peer in. We still have to get some kind of curtain for it, but for now I don't want to do anything to obstruct the view.

Sending out an SOS

2009-06-19T12:32:00.004-04:00

I've spent all morning downloading applications of dubious utility to my company-owned Blackberry. The reason: the company has seen fit to start blocking all manner of websites AGAIN. They did this before, blocking nearly every site that one might find entertaining or distracting. But then they relaxed the restriction and allowed some site, like Gmail (though they blocked the gChat feature). Then a few months ago, restrictions seemed to really relax, and we had unfettered access to all but the most offensive and evil sites (ie, hotrepublicansex.com, etc.) But over the last few days, they have been systematically clamping down again. I have a theory that you can gauge how well a company is doing by how much leeway they allow their employees online. So I guess the company is hitting the skids again. Oh well.

I now have Facebook, Twitter, Gmail, Yahoo Mail, Flickr and the Opera Mini Browser installed. It's not as easy to use as their Web counterparts, but at least I don't have to feel marooned at the office. Honestly without these distractions (plus selected blogs), how could I be expected to survive a day at this Mediocrity Factory? Well, I could probably live without Twitter but maybe I'm just not following enough interesting people. Story of my life.

P.S. Don't forget! See SPIKE the Angora cat at the North Shore Adoption Van this SUNDAY in Park Slope, outside NYC Pet, 5th Ave @Union/President, Brooklyn.

You're as cold as ice

2009-06-17T16:48:00.002-04:00

I promised I wouldn't make any more Spike posts, but whatever. Spike was all set to move out on Sunday, when his would-be adopter emailed to back out at the last minute. It's not like me to talk smack about someone on a blog, but what a douche. I don't know what it is, but this poor cat has brought out nothing but losers and psychopaths from the first post, several months ago. I don't know why I can't find a normal person who's not a total flake to adopt him. We're not really asking a tall order here, either.

Anyway, our loss is your gain, in that Spike will be on display this coming Sunday, outside the NYC Pet store in Park Slope. He will be joining a bunch of other cats on the North Shore Animal League Adoption Van, which is really more of a huge panel truck full of pets. I don't know what he'll do in the cage, with strangers streaming by him, but I'm hoping he puts on the dog, so to speak. He knows he's a looker, so hopefully he'll strut and pout his way into a permanent home.

Sunday, June 21, Noon-5:00PM (est.)
NYC Pet, 218 5th Ave, Brooklyn, NY (718) 230-8224
http://www.nycpet.com/

Bird on a wire

2009-06-17T16:13:00.003-04:00

I don't have much to add to this story but I wanted to note it on my blog, if only so I could look back in the future and note the moment in history when the Port Authority decided it had the right to round up a bunch of animals that had done absolutely nothing wrong and kill them. This goose thing is amazingly stupid. It is proven the birds most often getting caught in jet engines are migratory geese, not this bunch that live here (sure a few may be from the 'dangerous' group but come on). Even if every goose killed could somehow be guaranteed to get sucked into a plane's rotors, it still isn't a long-term solution, unless they plan on killing every single goose, gull, pelican and egret in the country. They're going to kill a bunch now, but of course, more will come to take their place. That's an ECOSYSTEM; gassing a bunch of geese isn't policy, it's distraction.

Yet somehow with almost everyone (except the NY Post) against them, they have already begun the mass slaughter. I don't care what you think about geese, but this should be at least mildly annoying to all of us.

She's gonna love me in my Chevy van

2009-06-01T13:12:00.003-04:00

Lucy makes sure nothing happens to the cat food

You people with cars won't understand this, but sometimes we sit around and discuss all the things we could do if we had one. How we could go to Ikea, to Costco, to the Catskills (I don't know why we bring that up, neither of us knows anything about the Catskills). The idea that we could have something to not only transport us around but also hold heavy items so that we may bring them to our door, well, let's just say we understand the allure.

Eventually these conversation descend into all the reasons we SHOULDN'T ever have a car: the costs, the worries about theft, the moving from one side of the street to the other all the time. So we end feeling pleased we are still reliant on mass transit. But this weekend we were able to tool around and block the box like all those SOBs who act like they don't see me jaywalking on 23rd St.

Empty Cages had put out a request for a washing machine, and a woman offered up her washer and dryer for free. Someone would need to go get them, but nearly every member of the group was working an adoption event scheduled for the same day. They needed a Transporter.

I saw this not only as an opportunity to help out the group but to turn the whole thing to my selfish advantage and take the van out shopping after my chores were done. So I picked up the van at my favorite Uhaul spot in East New York where the receptionist calls everybody "Honey" and your transactions are constantly interrupted by people buying bags of ice (their other business) and people yelling at each other loudly. I got the van and an appliance dolly and started up to the BQE. Before getting on the highway, I stopped off at a friend's house to finally pick up the air conditioner she said I could have months before. Originally I intended to use this AC myself, but somehow I promised it to Empty Cages along the way (maybe it's a cult). With the AC stowed, I was off to Bay Ridge.

I got there way faster than I thought (thank you Robert Moses), located the apartment and found the donators ready for me. The woman's burly son, along with his burly friend, were ready with the washer/dryer. These things were huge, front-loading machines, the washing machine itself weighing almost 250 pounds. With effort we got them into the van with millimeters to spare.

As I headed up to the shelter space, I was already doing the math: 2 Burly Guys + Me = Barely got it into the van, therefore me + [UNKNOWN] = spinal injury. I got up to the space and amassed a few people to help move them. It didn't look good, unfortunately it appears that cat rescue attracts few really muscular people. But lucky for us, some truly tough guys were right down the block.

There's been a big bus on the block for a while now, all painted and graffiti-covered, and big dudes are always around working on it. It's one of those biodiesel conversions, which is better for the environment (even better for it is the fact that it hasn't moved in weeks). We asked a couple of the guys if they would help and they agreed.

We tried to pitch in but they basically did all the work, strapping the machines to the dolly and lugging it up the narrow stairs. Their only remuneration: they wanted to meet the roosters (liberated from cockfighting dens in the Bronx). They said they hear them crowing all the time and had wondered where it came from. The rooster complied loudly.

With the machines dropped off, the job was essentially over. This gave me the perfect excuse to commandeer the van and use it to my own nefarious purposes. I drove home, picked up Jeannie and we drove to the Sunset Park Costco.

I haven't been in a wholesale store in years and Jeannie had never been. It's pretty overwhelming at first. We got memberships and ID card and waded through the enormous crowds with our oversize cart. We knew we wanted cat supplies but we didn't have a list or even a clear idea of what Costco carried. I was convinced they would have 'everything' from kitty litter to furniture, while Jeannie thought it would be far more limited. The truth was somewhere in the middle, an odd collection of stuff with no discernible theme. You could buy 20-packs of bar soap, but they didn't carry Ivory. You could select from a huge variety in brands of laundry detergent but no one brand had the oil-drum size I was searching for. However in some areas they had exactly what we were looking for.

I had been told by Lisacat that Costco carried a decent-quality cat food, and indeed, it is higher quality that it has any need to be. It's all chicken and rice, no wheat and no meat by-products. It's sold in 25-lb. bags, of which we bought 5. They also had cases of canned Friskies which we also picked up. But there wasn't much else in the way of cat supplies, just some Iams and 40-lb. buckets of Scoop Away litter (we bought one even though I find Scoop Away overly perfumey). I still can't figure out why the cat food was so premium when they don't appear to have much interest in cats beyond these few supplies, but I'll take it.

After getting that, everything else was gravy. The place is huge; at first I thought it was merely big until I realized there was a whole other floor to the place. We bought as much stuff as we could justify and by the time we got to the check-out, we both had to push the cart, it was so heavy. We lucked with a short check-out line and got back to the van in plenty of time (and oh yeah, we stopped at the liquor store next door and bought a couple of huge bottles of Jim Beam, just in case we need several gallons of whiskey soon).

We got the stuff home and dumped it off (the cats were very excited to see the cat food so it had to be stowed in the bathroom until we could deal with it). We got the van back before the office closed, so we didn't have to worry about getting up in the morning to return it. I can't believe it all went down without any mishaps, usually these vehicle encounters always result in some injury, however small. But I managed to drive without running into anything/anybody, and near as I can figure the equipment we transported suffered no real damage. Mission Accomplished.

So it was fun having an excuse to drive around and do stuff in a car, but by the end of the day I was happy to return it and walk away. There's just too many things to worry about when you own a car, and I got enough stuff to obsess over these days. But maybe I will sign up for that Zipcar thing, although I'm not sure it's worth it when the Uhaul van is closer and cheaper. And really, is there anything cooler than driving a cargo van that tells everyone how cheap you are?

I'm not going to spend my life being a color

2009-05-26T10:59:00.004-04:00

Izzy: My only regret is not taking better photos

We're happy to announce that Izzy the non-feral yard cat has found a permanent (indoor) home! We're very glad to get this guy off the street for good, he'll be moving up to the north side of the neighborhood where, we're told, all the fun stuff happens.

It's been a while since we had an adoption go so smoothly; the guy answered Izzy's ad and actually provided the info I asked for. It's pretty simple, I ask that anybody who's interested in a cat to write in with their own background info. I just ask for some sense of their living and work situation and what kind of history they have with pets. I think it's pretty reasonable. You know how many people respond in kind to these questions? Maybe 20%. Everybody else sounds evasive or just plain stupid. One person said "I don't divulge my financial information to strangers." What? Did I ask for your W-2s? No, I asked what you did for a living. I've had my share of Craigs-List paranoia, but come on. I guess people think if I know they live in a studio apartment somewhere in Manhattan that I can leverage this hot info and swear out some credit cards in their name.

I guess some people think of pets on Craigs List the same way they think of the Free Stuff section: if they respond first they'll get the gear, no questions asked. You always know when an adoption isn't going to work out when their first questions is "How much is the adoption fee?" That should be the LAST question they ask. Then you get other weirdos who write you a novel initially about how much they want a cat, but despite all the content, they don't actually give you any other useful info except that they're leading very sheltered lives.

Anyway, I couldn't be happier about this latest adoption. Izzy was far too sweet to spend his life outside, and the guy adopting him seems like a good fit (Izzy was all over him the moment they met). But it underscores how random this thing can be; Izzy's ad was put up Thursday and now he's got his person. Meanwhile, poor Spike continues to languish on the vine, despite a PR campaign full of cute photos, amusing videos and clear-eyed testimonials. Meanwhile, a simple black cat gets snatched up like he was dipped in chocolate. If Spike knew, imagine how appalled he would be!

Spike waits for his new home

Feed me Seymour

2009-05-20T14:01:00.004-04:00

The local falafel cart has several chefs, and they all suck, except for this one kid. Bad acne and indecipherable accent, for some reason he takes this stuff seriously, dressing up a standard falafel on rice with a ton of vegetables, both raw and grilled. While other guys are content to throw some iceberg lettuce on rice and toss in some dessicated falafel balls, he always fries the falafel at order, and jazzes up the salad with red cabbage, peppers, scallions, carrots and broccoli. Oh yeah, and french fries and eggplant! I skip the mysterious 'white sauce' and ask for liberal amounts of hot sauce, although he put so many jalapenos in already I have to towel off my head, I'm sweating so much.

The other guys who work there on other days merely toe the line to an indifferent lunch crowd, why does he give so much extra effort when he clearly doesn't have to? I dunno. I certainly can't imagine doing the same thing at my day job. Maybe he actually likes what he does for a living; what a foreign concept!

I skipped the line, I paid my dime

2009-05-18T12:33:00.003-04:00

In an effort to both clean up this site a little and cross-pollinate my stuff, I edited this home page slightly. I've added a list of cats we have up for adoption, which I assume I'll keep updated as needed. Now, normally we only advertise for cats who are currently under our roof, and several of these cats are not technically residents. But they live right outside among the ferals, but have proven themselves tame and friendly enough to warrant a mention. I've also included longtime holdouts Augie and Marbles; I don't really think they'll get adopted as they are really bad at selling themselves ... and we've sort of gotten attached to them in the meantime. But hey, if the right people come along, who knows? So that leaves Spike and Haley as 'classic' adoptable cats, living with us but with every intention to move them out once we find a decent home.

Spike is still with us, we've decided he can only go to a home as an only-cat. He just doesn't get along with other cats well enough. He's a real people-pleaser otherwise. Haley finally got spayed a few days ago, so she's all set. I'm having a hard time describing her personality since most of the time we had her she was in heat. She's very different now that she's not constantly rolling around yowling, holding her butt up in the air and running in place. Time will tell.

You may also note Ainslie on the adoption list, he's a recent TNR guy who just decided to reveal how tame he is as well. I kinda figured he was tame but I thought it would take months to win him over. Naw; just a plate of canned food did it. The number of tame cats around is setting a dangerous precedent (namely, our house full of tame cats) so we're trying to be more aggressive with the adoptions. If we can't find a good home for Spike, we're campaigning to get him in on an Empty Cages Collective Adoption Event, which have a great track record for finding homes. Haley will also get in on this, although there's a waiting list for getting in. How New York.

Little boxes made of ticky tacky

2009-05-15T11:50:00.001-04:00

Replacing camera LCD, originally uploaded by Jimmy Legs.

Here's something sort of not cat related! I use my digital camera a lot (mostly for taking photos of cats, yes). But I treat it horribly. I never use a camera bag and I generally just let it bang around in my stachel-bag. Consequently it's all banged up. That's fine, as it was all cosmetic damage. But a little while ago I scratched the LCD screen, which created lines across the viewable area. This was annoying but did impede the functioning of the camera. So in my leisure I investigated how I might replace it.

First I checked with Canon, but amazingly enough they have no service offices in New York City (lame). And the thought of shipping it off somewhere seemed like a recipe for blowing a buncha dough for what seemed to me to be a simple swap job. So I decided to do it myself.

I found a cheap replacement LCD kit on eBay, it even comes with a small screwdriver and plastic prybar. I had mistakenly ordered an LCD backlight from somebody else, so I had a full replacement if need be.

I googled a couple of how-to guides but I couldn't find anything about my specific model. So I went with the instructions from some other Canon camera, assuming it couldn't be much different. Wrong! I took the camera apart, separated the LCD-backlight assembly, separated the LCD from the back light, and yanked out the LCD ribbon-tape plug. Easy!

I got out the new LCD and slipped it into the backlight (which has its own, tinier ribbon-wire plug). With some difficulty I got the new LCD plugged in, but I was having trouble getting the two parts to play nice together and fold back down into position. The ribbon wire allowed limited movement of the component and unbeknownst to me it got caught under the housing for the screen. When I tried to put it all flat on the camera body, the wire broke. Hard!

Lucky for me, I had been dumb enough to buy a replacement backlight, so I swapped this in. But the plug was super small and I could not for the life of me figure out how to get it into the socket. I gave up and started researching camera repair shops. But I turned to the Internet once more and found somebody who had my same model. He mentioned in passing that the way to re-attach the plug involved lifting up a tiny clip on the opposite site of the socket. Jesus.

I got the plug in and the tiny clip back down and got the camera back together. Success! What a pain in the ass. So it cost me $60 to replace it, all told. I have to assume that's cheaper than having somebody who knows what they're doing do it. I have to!

Empire building

2009-05-07T11:48:00.004-04:00

I can't believe how hard a time we're having in finding a home for Spike, the white Angora cat we took in a little while ago. We keep getting weirdos who string us along for weeks and then disappear right at the moment they're supposed to come meet him in person. I keep thinking it's one person who keeps using different email addresses, but unless they're spoofing IP addresses all over the city, it's separate individuals. Super lame. I think people think they will respond to an adoption ad and then, minutes later, go to an undisclosed location to pick up their briefcase full of kitty. Come on, people, we've got to at least attempt to establish some background before handing out cats. Oh well, try, try again.

I wouldn't mind so much but you see, we're all full up with cats. I know I've said it before but summer hasn't even begun and we've got cats everywhere. Two of the back yard cats who were presumed to be feral have turned out to be more tame and friendly than the indoors cats! So we gotta find them homes as well.

And then there's Haley, a young cat we trapped a little while ago. We'd never seen her before the night she turned up in the trap. She also turned out to be very friendly, but was skin and bones and sporting a hugely infected abscess which manifested itself as a big hole on her shoulder. She recovered from her injuries at Empty Cages Collective, and once she was well enough, we brought her back home to finish her convalescence. She still needs to be vaccinated and spayed so she's kept separate from the other cats. It looks like we'll have to wait until the end of the month to get her spayed; we could get fixed sooner but it would require getting her ear tipped. And I don't wanna do that anymore if at all possible, not for tame, adoptable cats.

Meanwhile I have been having a helluva time getting this guy to come out and give me an estimate on replacing our back door, but he finally made it over yesterday (2 hours late). We're also probably putting a fence in, and THAT guy has been giving me the runaround for weeks. This is not even mentioning the first fence guy who came over, duly measured the yard and discussed options, only to never ever call me back with an estimate. What's up with that?

In an effort to bridge all my problems, I am in the process of teaching the cats to build a fence and replace a door. Results have been mixed so far, they have a lot of energy but I'm having trouble finding tools small enough for them to hold.

I'll be back when I have something interesting to report!

Digging in the dirt

2009-04-27T11:25:00.004-04:00

This isn't the tent he gave me, but I assume it looks like this.

I'm trying to get organized and live up to the secret pact I made with myself that go me through the winter. During the cold months, when there was work to do on the house, I comforted myself with the thought: "I'll do it when it warms up."

Then this weekend comes along with 90-degree temperatures. Great. Unable to put it off any longer I went into the back yard with the intent to half-ass some yard cleanup then retreat to the TV again. Over Christmas we refinished some floors in the house, which produced a whole lot of scrap wood. Instead of dealing with it at the time (see above), I just piled all the wood in the yard. The Plywood, 2x4s, Masonite and old wood paneling have shuttled around the yard over the months, coming to rest against the neighbor's chain link fence. It somewhat resembles the barricade in Les Miserables.

I figured I could put the smaller debris in contractor bags and lash together the longest wood boards together in preparation for sawing them into bundles small enough for the trash guy to pick up. This still would leave some huge plywood sheets that would need to be cut repeatedly but there was no way I was doing that for now. I busied myself with the easiest of the tasks, bagging up small garbage, breaking down some of the thinner panels and whatnot. Meanwhile, my neighbor a couple yards over was puttering out back as well.

He struck up a conversation with me, noting that he had just dug up a bunch of dirt from his yard while working on his latest project, which appears to be a sort of gazebo structure (he described it as a 'cabin' and admitted that he's sort of winging the plans, making it up as he goes along; I like him already). Anyhow, he had a bunch of dirt, and he knows we have all these cats running around (his son learned to say "gato" before "Papi," I was somewhat chagrined to learn). The cats love to 'play' in the dirt, as he put it, so it could help keep the cats in my yard if they had more dirt to 'play' in. So I said sure, gimme the dirt.

Herein lies one of the awkward issues of yard-having in Brooklyn: we can't enter each others' yards. My next-door neighbor and I have no fence between us, but nearly every other yard is fenced off. So dirt that needed to travel some 20 feet would need to be carted through the neighbor's house, out the door, down the sidewalk, and through my living room just to get over here. He suggested an alternative: he would fill up sandbags with dirt and hand them over the fence to me.

For the next couple of hours, he shoveled dirt into reinforced bags, dragged them over to a ladder next to the fence, climbed up and gingerly dropped the bag into my waiting hands. I don't have a lot of space to dump extra dirt, but we do have a sizable plot in the back of the yard and a sort of narrow median down the center. We filled up every inch of available dirt-space, and there's still some dirt leftover. Part of his motivation was that now he won't have to pay to have the dirt hauled away. I don't know how much that costs, but he seemed grateful. It must be expensive, cuz I was exhausted and my muscles are all sore from the hauling and dumping; he did all that PLUS the shoveling. He even gave me a new gazebo tent that would have gone unused by him since he was building the permanent cabin thingy. Wow.

I admit I don't interact with my neighbors as much as I should. I talk to the next-door neighbors, since our houses are identical, so we feel like we are sort of related or something. But we're on head-nodding level at best with most of the other neighbors. So it was nice to have an excuse to speak to him, especially since his family is just about the only other family on our end of the block to use their back yards much. I'm hoping we keep talking, I'm racking my brain to find something I can give to him in return, but I'm pretty rusty in the ways of Neighbor Gifting. If I can't find something I would otherwise throw out he might find useful, should I bake him some cookies or something?

Wouldn't you like to be a Pepper

2009-04-17T12:20:00.000-04:00

Pepper is a Portuguese Water Dog. She was rescued from a kill shelter and is hoping to find a permanent home. She lives in DC. Too bad no one in the DC area was interested in bringing a Portuguese Water Dog into their home.

UPDATE: Pepper has an adoption pending! But without groups like K-9 Lifesavers, every purebred dog produced on spec just pushes one more dog (purebred or not) into the euthanasia room.

Evil is his one and only name

2009-03-25T15:30:00.002-04:00

I just finished a huge project at work and am loath to do anything else productive today, so let's catch up. We're back on the foster cat wagon, this time with a stray who showed up in the yard recently. We've been calling him Winger but we may change that to something more appropriate as we learn his personality. And that personality is evil.

Well, he's not exactly evil, he can be very sweet. He loves being petted and will roll all around and sit in your lap and let you carry him around at length. But before you get to do this, you'll get the hissing of a lifetime! He hisses more than any tame cat I've ever seen, it's almost like he doesn't know what hissing means. His new thing is to let me pet him for a while and then when I turn to go he hisses viciously and swats at my leg. I understand that maybe he doesn't want me to go, but jeez, learn some manners, buddy!

He has a variety of other behaviors that mystify me, like how he won't eat all of his food at once like all my cats (obviously he's never lived on the street where every meal could be your last). He won't play with the string-on-a-stick toy that has converted even the stodgiest feral cat. He meows with a hoarse, hollow sound not unlike the wail of a ghost.

But I have a new theory that explains nearly everything about him: he's an evil supervillain's cat. It makes perfect sense, evil supervillains love long-haired white cats, and some of their personality is bound to rub off on their pet. Who knows what happened to this guy's evil owner? Dropped down a chimney? Frozen in space? The mind reels. So now the real trick is, where do evil supervillains go to adopt their evil sidekick cats?

Possibly a futuristic, mobile adoption device, hell-bent on the uncompromising, total adoption of every cat in the 5 boros? Yes. It's the North Shore Animal League Mobile Adoption Van, coming to the corner of N. 7th & Bedford in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, this Saturday at Noon. Step out of the L train station and see a big-ass bus loaded with mostly Empty Cages Collective cats and kittens. Our man may be there if there's room, but I need to de-evil him a little more to make him tolerant of non-evil adopters.

Why can't you be nice to me

2009-03-16T10:36:00.001-04:00

the princess, originally uploaded by Jimmy Legs.

We're back on the catwagon. Over the weekend we trapped the white cat who had been wandering around for a few weeks at least. We figured she wasn't a feral due to her clean coat and regal manner. We were correct, but what we hadn't figured on is her bad attitude. This cat is a Princess.

We left her in the trap for a while to acclimate. She was alone in her room, the lights off with a towel over the trap. This is supposed to keep a cat calm. But she decided to throw herself against the cage bars, knocking over her water bowl and causing a ruckus. She was making such a racket we could hear it downstairs. Eventually I gave in and came in to let her out of the trap. She hissed and hissed, but when the door opened she stepped smugly out (most cats will dash out and immediately hide somewhere). She kept hissing so I left her alone.

The next time I came in she was napping on the chair but desite the big plate of cat food I was holding, she still hissed a lot. But I approached slowly and reached out my hand and she rubbed her chin on it. She let me pet her for a while, and I thought all was forgiven. Not so, the next time I came in the room she started all over again.

She won't really do anything while I'm in the room, she won't really eat and she certainly won't deign to let me see her play with her toys. but when I leave the room I can hear her running around with the cat toys, which are always in different locations when I come back. I'm hoping she lightens up soon, she'll make such a great pet once she gets over herself a little! I know, I know, she's gotta have time to adjust, and she's already a lot nicer than most cats we trap. But you want them to be 100% friendly or 100% feral, since that easily determines what to do with them.

As for this lady (who I haven't even confirmed is female, but come on) I'm gonna assume she will soon come around so I am already planning on treating her like an adoptable. No eartip for the princess!

Solid State Marty

2009-03-13T12:16:00.004-04:00

It's been a rough week of working day jobs we don't particularly like. In my frustration, I convinced myself I needed a new guitar amp. For several years I have used a Mesa Boogie Mark III, an incredibly heavy tube amp. I fantasized about the Fender Jazzmaster Ultralight, a mere 10th of the weight of my rig at 7.5 pounds. I could take the subway to gigs! But alas, I have spent the last 11 years distancing myself from solid state amps, preferring the warm tones that only obsolete technology can give. This is not without its price. There is the aforementioned heft of tube amps (you simply would not believe how heavy this thing is), but there is also the cost of maintenance. A solid state amp is fairly reliable for years, there just isn't enough stuff in there to break. The tube amp, on the other hand, is rife with points of failure; I have him them all. Several times the amp has literally caught on fire, which while a good thing metaphorically, is less so in practice. The tubes themselves can be expensive and you're supposed to take it in for re-tubing and biasing by a professional, something I intend to do when the economy recovers.

Yes, the solid state amp sounded like a great idea. But before blowing another wad of money on more equipment I thought I should try to approximate what I'd be dealing with before submitting that order on musiciansfriend.com. So I switched on the Mark III and turned the gain down to get a clean sound, then ran a variety of distortion/overdrive pedals through it. My first real amp was solid state. But it was also a 500 watt Sunn head driving a Kustom cabinet with 2 15" bins. And even then my overdrive of choice was a Tube Driver, which has a little tube in it for authenticity.

Anyway, five minutes into this test I knew I wasn't leaving the Hallowed Halls of Tube. In short, it sucked. Tone sucking, to be specific. Whoa nelly. By not utilizing the wonderful albeit accidental tonal properties of the tube amp, my sound was reduced to a decidedly narrow sonic range. The guitar sounded like it was being pinched, the way a voice sounds in a megaphone. But then I realized, that's what stuff sounds like through the average guitar amp.

As you may know, my band has but two members. Since I'm the one with the 'melodic' instrument, it's up to me to cover some bases that other instruments normally would cover, namely the bass. What's been so great about the setup I have is that the Mesa gives great response through a huge variety of frequency ranges, obviating the need for a bassist (okay, that's debatable but throw me a bone here!). When I set up the amp, solid-state style, all the range collapsed back to the usual frequencies one would expect of a single electric guitar. It was all twang and no oomph. Sure it would probably cut through the noise of a band but without that low end, well, it seemed pointless.

Was this a conclusive test against buying a solid state amp? No, I mean, I suspect that some solid state amps paired with the right speaker can deliver all the stuff I'm talking about and probably some stuff I didn't know I needed. But the experiment built back some of my appreciation for the rig I have now; in effect, it just saved me $1000. After good guitar tone, nothing moves me more than saving a load of dough.

If you can put your hands upon it, IT'S MINE

2009-03-09T10:40:00.004-04:00

I think I need to hire somebody else to clean out my basement. Not because I mind the work, that's no big deal. But I get caught up in looking at all the junk and coming up with reasons NOT to throw it away. Piles of garbage, boxes full of bric-a-brac, I know we need the space and the stuff therein is worthless (as evidenced by the fact that it hasn't moved since we got here). What could I possibly have in all these boxes that I would want to keep? I should throw it all out!

But then, I start looking at the stuff ... and the brain starts coming up with reasons I need to keep it. A blister pack of small wheels, oh yeah, I need that. I'll put them on the coffee table to make it easier to sweep under it. A door chain lock, I better keep that in case those fake ConEd people start coming around. The 'smokeless' ashtray, it's such a good idea, even though you basically have to strap the thing to your chin for it to do any good. The toggle-nut bolts, the extra-small screws, the picture hanging kit ... I never use them but I have to have them at all times! The half-empty tubes of caulk or pails of grout, who knows when I may need them? Can you imagine how pissed I'll be next time I'm caulking and I run out and all I need is just a little bit more ...

I know the logic is flawed in there somewhere, but I can't find the fissure when I'm down in the cellar up to my knees in detritus. So I think I need to hire somebody who will just go down and be able to say, "Okay, this stuff is necessary, tools, sandpaper, tire pump. But this collection of broken picture frames you 'plan' to repair, toss it." It sounds so simple but I don't know if I can be trusted to sort it out on my own. Realistically, the Sorter would have to remove the offending items as well, I'm sure I would second guess when his back was turned and pocket some empty Lysol cans and pipe joint compound. I need I need!

So your mornings will be brighter

2009-02-24T12:25:00.003-05:00

For some reason my company network isn't blocking blogger anymore. This is probably a temporary oversight. But not only that, they stopped blocking Youtube! Wow! The filter they use has a dynamic capability and can filter on a case-by-case basis. Thus, I was unable to access content even on sites to which I had access. For instance, I could view photos but not video on Flickr. But it's all working now for some reason. Yet I have no great burning desire to post anything, since I'm mired in UAT for our new company website.

So in lieu of content here's a video of Georgie in his new home, setting up to pounce on something.

With teeth

2009-02-23T16:26:00.001-05:00

Jefe's new talent, originally uploaded by Jimmy Legs.

Let's lighten the mood a little. Here's a photo of Jefe nursing and humping his favorite blanket. Even before we got him fixed he practiced safe sex on a wadded up towel in the back yard. So this is a good lead-in: Tomorrow, as it turns out, is Spay Day USA 2009. I am increasingly having issues with the Humane Society of the United States, but this is fairly benign, something we can all agree upon. Get those animals fixed! The ASPCA Mobile Spay Clinic is still out there offering lower-cost options for those who don't quite understand why it costs $300 to remove your cats' balls. Unfortunately, the had to raise their prices a bit. But I think we can agree that $75 is still pretty cheap and remember, it's still free for people on public assistance. It's pretty hard to argue with the logic in any case. Tomorrow, the Brooklyn spay van will be at Brower Park, in Crown Heights. But for Bushwick people it comes to the lovely Maria Hernandez Park thus Thursday. Check the listings for the other, lesser neighborhoods.

Honestly, I don't know how people live with unfixed pets. I dunno about dogs, but cats get loony: males spray and fight and yowl, females spray and yowl and flirt obscenely. Is that really the world you want to live in?

If I swallow anything evil

2009-02-23T14:15:00.003-05:00

Stockholm, originally uploaded by Jimmy Legs.

The last two weeks symbolize the highs and the lows of this cat business. On the one hand, two weeks ago we adopted out Steve to a great home; he's now known as Georgie and is settling in well with his new human and cat pals. While he had his own ups and downs, this was a very satisfying end to his time at our house.

The opposite end of the spectrum was realized this past week. At the beginning of February we took in a foster cat as a favor. He had been found on the north side of the neighborhood and the woman who took him off the street couldn't keep him due to allergies. We were going to hold him for a few days until he could be moved to Empty Cages' space. This would mean he would have to spend most of his time in a cage which, though roomy, is still a cage.

We liked him so much, however, we decided just to keep him at our house. He was no bother at all, neat and quiet, and as you see above, quite the looker. His only shortcoming was that he liked to push his water bowl around the floor at night. His room was next our bedroom, so all night long you heard the sound of a heavy ceramic bowl scraping around the room.

He settled in well. we had him neutered, tested for FIV/Felv (neg/neg) and vaccinated (FVRCP all-in-one). He barely noticed the surgery and was in high spirits when he returned to the house. I looked forward to Feb 21st, as ECC was having an adoption event; he'd make his debut at The Show and, I was sure, snag a permanent home.

But on Monday he was not himself. He slept all day, and he kept throwing up. He didn't feel feverish, so I thought it was a hairball. I tried to give him some hairball remedy stuff but he wouldn't eat it (not surprising). Then I tried to give him some chicken baby food; again he wouldn't eat (very surprising). I didn't want to overreact and decided to wait for morning to see how he was doing.

Tuesday morning he was the same. He hadn't touched any of the food I brought him, and I couldn't tell if he had drank any water. I filled a syringe with water to squirt into his throat. A few minutes afterwards, he threw up the water. I knew something was really wrong.

The vet declared him dehydrated and suffering from low body temperature. I hadn't even thought of that, who thinks about anything but fever when somebody's sick? They did bloodwork and set him up with IV fluids and warmed him to get his temperature up. I waited for a diagnosis.

After his first night on fluids and antibiotics, he was still vomiting. The vet thought he might have swallowed something that was stuck in his stomach, but to be sure he took X-rays. The first was inconclusive so they did a barium study, a series of X-rays after giving the cat barium so it will show up on the film as it moves through the GI tract. Only it didn't move through. Preliminary X-rays showed the barium in his stomach but nothing further. After 3 hours, he threw up the barium. They did a couple more shots to be sure, but nothing was passing through to the intestines.

This seemed to support the theory that he had an obstruction. But another blood test showed his white blood cell count was still dropping. The vet said it could be an aggressive virus, some such viruses can cause stomach inflammation to the point that it seems like an obstruction.

Because of his low white blood cell count and his body temperature regulation issues, they didn't want to operate anyway. The virus theory seemed to be the most likely culprit so they focused on treating that. Unfortunately, the only thing you can do for a virus is try to get the immune system to respond and fight it off. They kept him in fluids and antibiotics (plus some Pepcid for his vomiting) and hoped he could bounce back.

He didn't bounce back. Instead, he had a seizure. They sedated him and kept doing everything they could to bolster his immune system. For a while, he was stable and the approach seemed to be working. But Friday the vet called with that sober sound in his voice and I knew it was going to bad news.

He had passed away, his system just couldn't pick up enough steam to fight off the infection. The vet believes he had panleukopenia, which he probably got when he was still on the street. It's highly contagious and is one of those diseases that is easily prevented with that all-in-one vaccination he received. But of course, it can't work if you've already got the virus.

The vet and the animal clinic were very good to us. They didn't charge for a lot of stuff I know the could have. The vet was clearly upset about the outcome, which makes dealing with it easier. But obviously, it sucks. We only had him for 3 weeks, and one of those weeks he was at the vets' most of the time.

He was maybe 9 months old. He clearly wasn't an alley cat, he was very social and extremely clean for a cat you find on the street. I had looked for lost-cat listings/flyers but I never saw any evidence that anyone was looking for him. Somebody had owned him, that was certain. But whoever that was put him out on the street in the middle of one of the harsher winters we've had in a few years. I know most people don't spend as much time as I do thinking about cats, but come on.

We had wondered what he'd look like when he grew up and filled out but now thinking of that feels spooky. He's not going to grow up, we won't get to see how his personality develops, we won't be finding the right home for him to live out his days. He's already gone and that sucks. It sucks because it didn’t have to happen. I suppose there’s never been a situation that ended in death that seemed completely okay. You always imagine it working out differently. You always second-guess.

Some photos

Midnight at the oasis

2009-02-18T17:06:00.001-05:00

Lucy at rest, originally uploaded by Jimmy Legs.

Looks like this will work! I just always have to have a relevant photo to go with the post! Um ... this photo of Lucy doesn't have anything to do with anything, but darn it all, I don't take enough pictures of her these days!

You tried to swallow it but couldn't follow it

2009-02-18T16:44:00.002-05:00

I keep forgetting to blog, or ramble on at length, as the case may be. Now that I can't access blogger from work I rarely post, since when I'm at home I am fulfilled with litterbox-scooping and cat-medicating. Our newest foster cat is actually with the vet right now, we suspect he swallowed something indigestible or he has some kind of virus. I really hope they figure out the situation fast, not only because I hate to think of him stuck at the vet's but also because they charge an ungodly 'boarding' fee for overnight stays. Not to belittle the industry but damn, vets have it made! They can basically charge whatever they want and almost never get called on malpractice. That, and the fact that their charges can't complain about their bedside manor. I'm selling them way short, and if I wasn't so squeamish about guts I'd probably be one, but again, damn!

Anyway, back to blogging, the increased filtration by my company's network finally forced me to learn about aggregators, so now I happily use Google Reader to read most sites; this allows me to read all the blogspot blogs I like, nicely circumventing the ban. Of course it makes your blogroll look like a bunch of spammy emails and you realize that once you strip away the photos and fancy layouts, most blogs are kind of boring. Especially when you can't read the snarky comments, that's where the real action is most of the time. Lucky for me, Brownstoner is still unhindered by my network's prejudices, those guys crack me up.

I should take my site off Blogger anyhow, since they've been deleting people's music posts without telling them. But again, why would I use up my free time doing computer stuff better suited to my hours on the clock? Anyhow, I think I might be able to blog this site directly through Flickr ... there may be a lot more pictures on this site soon!

You ate yourself out of house and home

2009-01-29T06:49:00.002-05:00

I took an actual sick day for the first time in years. Sure, many a time have I stayed home ill, only to end up working as much as usual thanks to the magic of VPN. And I intended to do the same yesterday, my laptop all set up and retrieving email after email. But I just couldn't stay focused long enough to do anything, so I went back to bed and proceeded to sleep for 7 hours.

I can't tell yet if I'm over the illness, which had no symptoms other than 'exhaustion.' I kind of suspect stress had something to do with it but that doesn't really narrow it down much; stress is pretty central to living in New York. Not that I mind it most of the time, but there's the stress of jamming onto a subway car to 'win' a good seat, and then there's the stress of producing corporate websites whose target audience may or may not exist. Plus meanwhile, all around me people have been getting laid off left and right. My morale is soaring.

Today I'll go into pay the piper, to catch up on all the work I missed yesterday as well as whatever they throw at me today. This double-whammy effect is what usually keep me in the office no matter my condition, but I'm hoping that my time out yesterday will have some positive attitudinal effect. Maybe I won't mind all the work if I'm feelin' positive! Yeah

Even the muggers are off the streets by eight

2009-01-27T05:20:00.004-05:00

So I'm back from Singapore again, another business trip of dubious utility. I didn't have too much trouble adjusting to the 13 hour time difference while I was there, but I'm having a hard time getting back on schedule here. I keep waking up at 5 AM and it's annoying. I guess I should think of something practical to do. Barring that, I can write a post. Singapore was nice and warm, and I finally checked out Little India and had some really good vegetarian Indian food. It's nice to wander into a place and look around at the buffet to see nothing but vegetarian food just as a matter of course. The only thing to worry about is what stuff had butter in it, but when in Rome ...

Which is another annoying thing: my company hanged its web filter process AGAIN, so now my website is no longer blocked. Yay; however, they now block all blogger related sites, so I can't get to the control panel to post new entries. Grrr. I think if I had MT or WP or something I could do everything through my domain and not have this issue. But the likelihood of me sitting around, figuring out at long last how to put together a real blog seems small. I guess I'll just have save up my A-material for early-morning posts like these! Lucky you.

While I was gone our little kitten got neutered and vaccinated, so soon he'll be on the adoption market. He won't have any trouble finding a home, he's super cute and very gregarious, plus he has a funny, froggy little voice. Quite a package. It almost seems unfair to have such an easy case. Most of our other adoption cases were much harder, but adopting out a friendly 4-month old kitten sounds like something we could do in our sleep. Let's hope so, anyway.

There's more to life than books, you know

2009-01-06T11:43:00.004-05:00

A woman I used to know once told me, "I used to read books all the time, for years. And I loved it. But in the past year I figured out that all that reading didn't do anything for me. It didn't make me a better person, it didn't illuminate the human condition, it didn't do anything except take me out of my life for a few hours. I don't read at all anymore. And now when I think about it, I think ... I want that time back."

I'm paraphrasing/rewriting history, of course, but you get the idea. At the time I sort of agreed. I too had spent a lot of valuable time reading books and whether I liked the book or not, it still took up time. After a few years I got back into reading and now read with some frequency. Part of why I feel like I wasted time is due to my revelation that I was reading a lot of highbrow stuff and darn it all, I just don't like that stuff. So most of what I read now is a bit further down on the pulp scale: nonfiction mostly, with an ear for the lurid, some educational (true crime, how to survive in prison, etc.) That helped a lot. But I also tend to read only when I'm on the train or before I go to sleep. As Charlie Brown once commented, "When I have absolutely nothing else to do, I enjoy reading." It's something like that.

Anyway, my point is, I think I used to read because I thought it would elevate me somehow. Maybe it did, but I don't think I liked the person it was raising me to. That is, I think I wanted to be a pompous doofus; I may have been a pompous doofus in many cases. Possibly this was not reading's fault, but a lot of the time I think my choices in life have been based not on what I truly wanted, but what I thought I should want. My friend's comment about books just put a fine point on that thought for me. And it makes me wonder how many other things still dictate my decisions (for instance, do I really care about nicely finished hardwood floors?) I suppose societal pressure is a necessary force to keep us from going cannibal or something, but when I think how much of my time has been spent in its service, I get annoyed. I want that time back.

But then again, who's to say if left to my own devices I wouldn't spend 23 hours a day on the couch, watching King of Queens marathons? Maybe I can't be trusted to run my own life. Not completely. Maybe there's a nonfiction book on the subject.