Friday, August 8, 2014

It's been a little while since Murphy died and her ashes are now in an urn on the mantle. I still don't know exactly what to feel since she has been gone.

Connecting with Cooper hasn't been easy. He's both a kitten and a Maine Coon, so he is high energy. I miss the low key interaction with a senior cat. Murphy and I seemed to age together....not so gracefully, but with a knowing respect for the process. We both began suffering the aches and pains of middle age around the same time and we understood when each of us was moving a little slowly.

I don't dislike Cooper. As I write this, he is asleep...next to me, where Murphy would sleep. I'm torn. That was Murphy's spot. I'm not sure I am ready to have another cat snuggled next to me on the bed. Murphy was large and plush, with a gentle reassuring purr that would lull even the most hardened insomniac into a deep sleep. Cooper is very small....with a rapid, machine gun purr and a late night penchant for face licking.

I don't want Cooper to be Murphy. Cooper was here before Murphy died. He is not a replacement nor a substitute.

I guess I just want Murphy back.

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Good to the last drop

I bought a cup of coffee tonight. I know that doesn't seem like such a big deal, but it was. All I wanted was a simple cup of coffee and was faced with a decision that, if made incorrectly, would hurl the Earth off its axis and into the sun.

It used to be easy. The choices were simple: black, with cream, with sugar, or "regular" (cream and two sugars). Now it's a latte, or something that has chocolate or raspberry and whipped cream and costs four dollars. I want a cup of java, joe, mud, whatever......I don't want a mocha latte Al Pacino. Cream, two sugars and it costs a buck.

There is a gourmet coffee now that is made from coffee beans that have been digested by some wild cat. You read that right....the beans are consumed by an animal called a civet and then the beans are, um, harvested from its feces and made into delicious coffee. I know what you are thinking.....I know each and every one of you is thinking that you have had some really shitty coffee. This is literal shitty coffee that costs something like seventy dollars a pound. I wonder if I can get my cat to eat some Maxwell House and crap out bags of money.

I read somewhere there is a Starbucks within spitting distance of pretty much everywhere. There will come a time when there will be a Starbucks within another Starbucks and it will be the coffee equivalent of dividing by zero.

I make most of my coffee at home. My brand of choice is Chock Full O' Nuts. There are no actual nuts in the coffee. The name comes from the fact that it originated as a product in a store that sold nuts and the name was never changed when the store stopped selling nuts. The store eventually became a chain of small diners in the New York City area and I guess "Chock Full O'Diner Coffee" did not roll off the tongue very easily.

I take my coffee very seriously. I use a mug, not a cup. I don't fill my coffee full of nonsensical things like spice and sugary flavors. Once in a great while, I'll put in a shot of my favorite Irish whiskey.

I know the market for faux gourmet coffees exists. It's the same market there is for yoga pants, Ugg boots and American Eagle baby tees. These are the people spending six dollars for a small coffee.

Until then, I will have my plain old coffee in my plain old mug. I got the mug in 1999 and it has the I (Heart) NY logo on it. It didn't cost six dollars, either.


Monday, May 5, 2014

Just a note....

Recently, my wife has reminded me that we have to go through our closet and finally get rid of some of the clutter that has amassed there through the years. Below is a short list of some of the things I found.
A big blue "w", reminding me I actually lettered in something in high school.

The Official Preppy Handbook. I think I have had my copy since the fall of 1981,<

Three unredeemed lottery scratch-off tickets. One each from Maryland, Delaware and New York. Winnings totaling four dollars.

Thirty-five shoes. Shouldn't this be an EVEN number?

Five navy blazers. Four single-breasted, one double-breasted. Three with stains, one missing a button or three, and one just perfect.

A cardboard box from Neiman Marcus. I have never purchased anything from Neiman Marcus, nor do I know anyone who can afford to shop there.

A parking ticket from 1995.

Hangers. Lots of wire hangers, grouped together in one side of the closet, their little hooks intertwined.

A baseball.

A Nerf football.

Three golf balls.

A movie ticket from something I don't remember seeing, but must have because I have the ticket.

Nine assorted canvas tote bags. The coolest one is from LL Bean, but it has the logo for the American Urological Association on the side, so I don't want to be seen in public with it.

A pencil sharpener shaped like Snoopy.

An assortment of used library books I bought from the little kiosk in the library and forgot I bought because I put them in the closet to hide them from company when I really didn't feel like cleaning the house.

I am thinking about having a yard sale. I'll have to buy a new table, because last year my wife made me throw away the old one we used to keep in the closet.