squeek goes home!

From squeek

Our little kitten has found a permanent home with a KU grad student named Patrick!

It's bittersweet, of course. It's always nice to have a kitten around. But the little fella will be a lot happier with a young voracious reader than in this brutal jungle we have here.

By the time dinner rolled around, I was too hungry to photodocument. So there are no photos of the beautiful, delicious food. Except of the pie.

writing

I've been writing again. Real writing, the kind that's miserable. It's been awhile.

This will no doubt change, but for now the routine goes like this:

I get up and feed the dogs, wash the dishes, shower, make breakfast and coffee and then surf the Internet for what seems like hours as I sip coffee and eat, all the while feeling more and more lousy because I'm not writing but, at the same time, being absolutely, 100 percent averse to writing, as if it were the most wretched medicine on earth, and I have to drink a pint of it.

Finally, I set an egg timer for 20 minutes and stare at my screen while the seconds tick away. Five minutes later, after several false starts, I have a somewhat acceptable clause. Three minutes later it's sentence. Twelve minutes in I have two sentences down. And with five minutes to go in my alloted 20, I'm typing furiously. The timer goes off, but I have to keep going, to at least finish the paragraph. Once that's done, I usually have enough ideas and energy to keep going for another half paragraph, at which point I either run out of steam or a gasket pops in my brain, causing me to abruptly stop.

If I'm lucky, I can then go through the same process at least once before lunch, complete with net surfing and guilt-ridden procrastination. And if I'm super, super lucky, I can go it again after lunch. But some days that's all I get -- a paragraph and a half. 

The actual writing isn't miserable. Those 2o to 40 minutes when the words are flowing is actually quite wonderful. It's all the rest of the time that totally sucks. I once heard Joyce Carol Oates describe it as like having a vice clamped on your head all the time. You get some relief when you're writing, and quite a bit more when you finish writing something. And the relief, compared to the pain, is so great that it feels like an exquisite high, even though it's just normal life with out a vice crushing your skull. 

squeek scare

Last night, Allie went downstairs to check in on Squeek. A second later she came running up the stairs. "Squeek's just laying in his crate, not moving, I don't know what's wrong."

I followed her down into the basement, reached in and fished him out. He meowed.

"Oh good," Allie said. "He's OK."

"No he's not," I said, noticing something wrong. I tried to set him on the floor and he crumpled down, unable to use his legs.

We went into a panic. What to do. Get the crate! Get the keys! Get your wallet! Go! Go! Go!!

We raced over to the neighborhood pet clinic. They were just closing but they let us in.

The vet examined him on one of those tall metal tables. He said he thought maybe Squeek had fallen and broken his neck or damaged his brain. I started seething with guilt and shame. I was the one who had set up his enclosure. I saw him trying to jump out and escape. I hadn't done anything about it. And how long had he been lying down there like that? My God, what have I done.

The vet took Squeek's temperature but he was so cold he didn't register anything on the thermometer. 

"That's not good," he said. "I don't think he's going to make it."

My breath caught. I started pacing. The vet told us to take him to an emergency clinic, 15 or so miles away in Lee's Summit. We tore out onto the highway, and promptly got stuck in a traffic jam. Squeek stopped meowing. "Touch him to see if he's OK," I said to Allie.

"I can't," she said.

So drove all the way there both certain that he had died right there in our car and that it was both of our faults.

But when I picked him up to take him into the clinic he let out a wail. Allie felt instantly relieved. I was still freaking out. The nurse took him into the back room and left us with a form to fill out. And then we waited. And waited. And they took us into another room and we waited and waited some more. Finally, when the nurse came in I barked, "Can't you tell us what's going on!"

Allie scolded me, but My God! Were they trying to torture us?! This little, tiny, adorable creature is dying and it's all our fault and they're acting like we're just waiting for an insurance quote or something!

Finally the doctor came in and she was real sweet and nice. She said Squeek was low on sugar and red blood cells and badly dehydrated. He had fleas and most likely worms and they were depriving him of nutrients. He's just so teensy he couldn't take it anymore and he just shut down.

She went back to work on him some more. When she came back, she said he was up and moving. 

"Is he going to make it?" I asked, and she gave one of those long, noncommittal medical answers. Finally, Allie asked, "If you were going to give a percentage, what would it be?"

"I'd say 80 percent."

Instant relief. 

Looked like he was going to live. And it wasn't our fault. 

Right before we were ready to go home, and leave him there for a night of intensive care, the vet brought him in for us to see. I snapped a couple of pictures.

From kansas city soil

From kansas city soil

So we went home feeling pretty good things would be alright. About 10 o'clock, the vet called to tell us he was doing great. Acting like a regular kitten.

This morning, we went to pick him up. He was looking good.

From kansas city soil

We took him to his regular vet, where he's been all day. In a little bit, we'll go pick him up. He'll be under our care for the weekend, and hopefully until he find him a good home. 

Whew! What a night!

national news

The much-anticipated Wall Street Journal article about my former boss and his wife came out today. I'll refrain from editorial comment here, except to say, for the record, that the poodle video and "We want the Funk!" commercial were my ideas. 

john mcenroe

It's that time again. Time to lavish praise on my old buddy John McEnroe has completed another major public art piece in Denver: National Velvet.

It towers above the highway near Downtown and it glows at night!

I talked with John briefly the other day. He was on his way to the dedication ceremony, at which Mayor Hickenlooper made an appearance, and he said the piece had raised some controversy. Apparently some folks on a website out there were bitching about it, and he dared them to fight to have the thing removed. "Which would be the best possible thing that could happen," he told me. (Took me a second to figure out why, but then I realized, yeah, that would be pretty awesome for John.)

I couldn't find the online complaints. But I did find an item from Westword, in which they rename the sculpture "Saggy-Boob Electric Penis." And a video interview with John, in which he's being his usual smart-ass self, albeit in a very gentle-voiced, friendly way. When the reporter asks him about the name, he says that "Velvet" connotes tactile pleasure and "National speaks for itself."

Um. Not when it refers to a giant pile of red blobs, it doesn't.

But that's part of what makes John great, that smart-assed-ness.

Here's an online portfolio of his work.

the awful truth

Allie and I watched The Awful Truth last night. Wonderful movie.

It's about this perfect couple that gets suspicious of one another and hastily files for divorce. The break up begins to fall apart over the issue of who keeps the dog, Mr. Smith, or Smitty, who delivers an Oscar-worthy performance.

Needless to say, it was the perfect movie for a couple of dog-loving freaks like us.

We both long to take a vacation to the 1930s and 40s, at least to the world as it existed in those movies. Everyone was so stylish! Irene Dunne would just lounge around in spectacular sequin dresses, and Cary Grant with a scarf and a silk robe, or a tuxedo with long tails. And all the men wore hats. I'd love to wear hats -- other than ball caps. But I couldn't get away with it in this day and age. I'm not old and I'm not black. Being neither, a fedora would be purely pretentious on my head.

trailers

Found some trailers to some of my favorite movies. (Kind of goofing around here a little bit lately.)

I totally love this one:

It's so cheezy. But so cool, too.

This is one of my all-time favorites:


Best J-film ever.

encouraging news

The NYT had an interesting article yesterday about nonprofit websites that are providing in-depth, investigative journalism in cities. It focused mainly on The Voice of San Diego. But it also mentioned The St. Louis Beacon, MinnPost and the New Haven Independent. They're all really attractive sites, all apparently full of good meat.

It makes me wish I could find a sugar daddy (or mama) who would bankroll one here in KC. I'd love to do something like this. And since McClatchy has been forcing the Star to kill its own, there are probably a few other folks who could join in.

We do have a couple sites like this -- KC Tribune and eKC -- both of which have had some good stuff but which appear to lack the capital that those other sites have.

Meanwhile, across the US, I've noticed that my buddy Joel has rebooted his old blog, Cup of Joel, with a partisan national politics flavor. Here's hoping that one takes off.

wedding pix

wedding

wet squeek

Allie gave the poor little freak a bath. He's still looking for a home.

squeek

This the little creature I saved yesterday. He's is looking for a home.

kitten

I was driving along, about a mile from home, when I spotted a light brown critter scampering out onto the road and pulling up short just before getting smooshed by the car in front of me. At first I thought it was a prairie dog runt. But as I got closer, I noticed it was a kitten. I hit the brakes.

Through the rearview mirror I could see the woman in the car behind me cursing, but I got out anyway. By the time I got around to the side of my car and reached down to scoop the little fur ball up, she was smiling. She approved of what I was doing. She had several teeth missing in the front.

I cupped to kitten to my chest, got in my car, turned around and raced home. I couldn't wait to show it to Allie.

She approved too. But she was a bit worried. The thing was so darned small, she wondered if it could even eat.

I went to the pet store and got some good kitten chow. The kind in a can. Kitty loved that. Just scarfed it down. Though it kept kind of bite/sucking it, like it was a teet. I think it was the first time it had ever had chewable food.

So now we've got another stray to adopt. This one should be easy, though. It's no bigger than my hand. And just squeeky cute.

Anybody want a kitten?

funny keith

Get the latest news satire and funny videos at 236.com.

'Bout sums it up.

extreme activities

This is the greatest film ever made.

giraffes!

Finally! This is available online!!

new media

Washington Post has some good stuff about Obama and new media. This article says he's going to beef up the communication's staff to marshall in a stronger web presence. And this one talks about the tension between the President-Elect and the press.

The first one is promising, so long as it isn't just propaganda. If his administration puts actual work product out with the polished press releases, policy papers and speeches and such, I think this could be really valuable for people who want to engage the system. I hope they put out some real substantive stuff -- source documents, studies, etc. It doesn't cost anything to put that stuff out there, and most folks won't read it, but it gives those of us who would the option of studying issues and initiatives in depth.

Or, from a more selfish perspective, it could give a journalist from the fly-over land a way to build a little beat circuit in the White House and look for stories or even a book. There are obviously going to be tons of books about this presidency, and I'd like to keep the option open to write one of them.

I checked out his transition website. Not a lot there. I went ahead and applied for a job. Why not? At some point, I'll probably share my story and vision for the country.

On the press side, my perspective on this is quite a bit different now that I've done a short stint in an elected office. I have to say, I sympathize with Obama's position. On the other hand, he needs to get over it. The press has always been at odds with people in power, and it always will be. Bottom line: Reporters are out to score points and draw eyeballs. Conflict drives everything. And conformity and group think are all pervasive. But, as one of the best journalists said, "That's the way it is." And the media is, for the most part, the conduit to the people, the means by which to inform of progress, or lack there of.

Ramble, ramble. Obviously, this idea's not fully baked yet. More later, maybe...

Meantime, here's a collection of hypoallergenic dogs.

news, pets and flix

In case you haven't heard, I quit my job.

The official announcement came in the middle of a big news day -- complete with a highly unusual action taken by the Star's editorial board.

In other news, the LA Times has a great photo gallery of presidential pets. Can't beat Harrison's goat!

And Allie and I are going to the movie tonight. Which should we see? This one? Or this?

odds and ends

I've been thinking of writing a post about why I like marathons so much. Haven't gotten around to it yet, obviously, so here's this, from the author of a new book about the NYC marathon, in the meantime:

I’ve covered the NBA, U.S. Open tennis and the Olympics, and I don’t think any one event captures the scale of humanity like the marathon.

...

One of my favorite artists is William Eggleston. And this is one of my favorite pictures by him:



...

Want to know more about the new second most powerful man in the world? This article is quite informative.

I read portions of it aloud to Allie last night, and she said he sounds like a dick.

Having worked in an executive office for a year and a half, my sense is that this is the right choice. He apparently knows everyone and everything. He's a proven political winner. He's a ball buster. And -- most important -- he appears to be a very close ally, someone Obama will be able to trust.

Here is another.