The Cat That Crashed In The Garage

 A couple of days ago, right when the temperature started to drop into the low thirties, a cat with unique markings wandered into the garage and parked itself.

I did not recognize the cat as being one of the several in the neighborhood I know, and as it was shivering and looking a bit dodgy, my obvious course of action was to allow it to stay and provide a little food.

The cat is a little shy - most likely a bit frightened, and while it appears healthy there appears to be a little bit of damage to his nose, as if it has been attacked recently.

The markings are unique enough (as seen, he has a large exclamation point and a comma on his back), that whoever owns this cat would immediately recognize them.

The cat appears to be 8 or 9 months old, and is very docile, and does not object to being picked up. I'm going to make some "Hey, Looking For Me?" flyers and post them around the neighborhood. Someone has to be missing this cat.

If no one claims him, well then, looks like I have two cats for Christmas.

Early Entry, Best Christmas House 2025

 

     The only thing that could make this display better was if they had Yukon Cornelius in there

Arkie Watching The Broncos OT Win Over The Commanders

 

The Silver-Haired Woman From Louisianna

   Her name was Opal, at least that's how she introduced herself. Her hair was silver yet she looked to be in her mid-thirties. I casually mentioned that she looked much too young to have silver hair and she retorted that it was her family's' curse, all the women go grey young.

   She told us that she had recently relocated to Denver from Bogalusa, Louisiana, a small town about an hour's drive north of New Orleans

   She also stated she was looking for a room to rent as she was staying in a motel just down the road, which she indicated was somewhere west on 44th with a quick flip of her hand. 

   Her accent was quirky, not quite a southern drawl and not quite Cajun. I knew a woman when I lived in Alaska who had moved to Eagle River from Saint Mary Parish, and she had the same accent.

   Note: It is Saint Mary Parish, not Saint Mary's Parish.

   It was about 45 minutes into the conversation when she suddenly got up and exclaimed that she had to go as she had a job interview in an hour.

   Which struck us as a bit odd, seeing as how she had just spent almost an hour drinking at the bar.

Rip Up The Tracks But Leave The Bridge

 

Terry Jacks 1974 Hit Single Seasons In The Sun...With The B Side That Turned My Mom Beet Red

 

Chanced upon a copy of Canadian performer Terry Jacks' 1973-74 hit single Seasons In The Sun at a garage sale today. One of the biggest selling songs of all time, it sold 14 million copies worldwide.

The song is basically the English version of Belgian Jacques Brel's 1961 release Le Moribund, with re-worked lyrics written in 1963 by the American poet Rod McKuen.  

The song is an overly sentimental, sappy as hell, chunk of mellow gold. It is also considered one of the worst songs ever recorded.

Which hasn't stopped bands ranging from the Beach Boys to Nirvana from recording cover versions.

It was the very first single I ever bought. It cost .94 cents at the Kresge store in Spring Valley, which was small fortune to my little 11 ten-year old self.

But I had to have it, as that song was just the cat's pajamas to me.

Yeah, I know. But hey, tastes evolve.

That song, however, is not the topic of this dialog. The flip side of the single is.

Try to imagine what my eleven-year old brain thought when I first read the title of the B side of the single. If you imagined it was anything close to "Man, this I gotta hear," you are absolutely correct.

So I played it.

Unfortunately, my mom was within earshot.

The song lyrics are stated more than sung. The very first line is "Put the bone in...she asked him..."

I only got to play the record once, never saw it again.

You can hear it on YouTube now, and yeah, it's as horrible as the A side.

The Wings Of Cozad

    About thirteen years ago a street artist in Los Angeles, one Colette Miller, came up with the idea for the Global Angel Wings project, which was simply angel wings painted on the wall of a building that people could stand in front of and have their picture taken with, and, you know, look all angelic like. 

   Colette considered the angel wings a means for people to somewhat become angels of the earth, and soon she was painting them everywhere - as in, all over the world, from Los Angeles to Moscow to Melbourne. 

   A couple of years after she painted her first wings, a New York based muralist, Kelsey Montague, painted some angel wings on a wall in lower Manhattan, which caught the eye of Taylor Swift. Tay-Tay had her picture taken in front of those wings and then posted the pic on her Instagram account, and, well, the wings on walls dealio really took off from that point.

   And it appears the original intention of the wings on the walls has evolved a bit - they are not just a hotspot for selfies anymore, they are now used as memorials to lost loved ones, or as tributes or commemorations to people or things of significance.

   It's also now almost impossible to visit a town/city/village/census-designated place without seeing wings, angel or not, on a wall or twenty. Even in little ol' Cozad, Nebraska, I saw wings everywhere. 

   And the variety was exceptional.