Ho, ho and ho

Feeling rather Christmas-y right now. I accomplished three rather delightful things on my to-do list.

1) Made Andrew's Christmas a little happier. Andrew is a 7-year-old boy who goes to daycare in the children's home next door. In a world where all kids seem to want are electronics, Andrew asked for books and a gift card to The Book Table, our local independent book store. So I picked up a Disney Inside Out coloring/puzzle book and a $10 Book Table gift card. It felt really good.

2) Took some toys to Walgreens. Many locations will have a Toys for Tots drop-off box near the entrance through December 13. I contributed a Matchbox firefighter kit for a boy, a cologne/bath/body lotion for an older girl, and a game that's suitable for all ages/both genders.

3) Dropped off a bag of goodies for the food pantry. Included with the standard soups and beans were chicken broth and lots of tea. The broth? Because people will need it to baste their Christmas turkey. The tea? My aunt sent me a big box of tea for my birthday and there is no way I can drink all of it. They're tasty and fragrant and I want to share. So I packed up the ones with the most distant exp. dates and threw them into the bag. Nice to add something a little luxe and seasonal to the mix.

This is the stuff that reminds me what Christmas is all about. For me, doing good brings me closer to Christ. It's such a feel good. I highly recommend it!

Day 5: Nothing has ever been able to touch him

December 5: Best gift you've ever received

We're setting the Wayback to the autumn when I just turned four. Mattel was the one brand name I knew. Mattel made Barbie. Mattle made Chatty Cathy, the doll that talked. Mattel knew what I wanted.

So when the commercials said, "NEW from Mattel!" naturally they had my attention. When I saw him, they had my heart.

Blaze. The most beautiful thing ever. A pinto rocking horse who didn't just rock. He bounced up and down, too! And, when you pulled the string, he neighed and whinnied. He was my ideal. I didn't just want him. I loved him.

Then the Sears catalog came. I gazed at the black-and-white photo of him for what felt like hours on end (but, considering I was a fidgety four-year-old, it was probably five consecutive minutes). When we went shopping for something boring at Sears, I broke away from my family and my parents found me in the toy department, talking to Blaze. He was set at the top of the shelf where I couldn't touch him. But at least he wasn't in a box, so I could see him. He was dazzling.

My mom told me later that was when the deal was sealed. After catching me talk aloud to my horse in the toy aisle of Sears, they knew what Santa was getting me.

I will always, ALWAYS remember coming into the living room on Christmas morning and seeing Blaze under the tree. To me it meant Santa and magic and love were real.

To play along with this challenge, click here.

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Boulevard of Broken Dreams (2004)

1) The "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" video begins with the gentlemen of Green Day dealing with car trouble. If your car overheated, what's the first thing you would do to remedy the situation? No freaking clue. I'm the least car-savvy person on earth. I haven't driven since Ronald Reagan was in office, and don't even have a license anymore.
 
2) Thinking of cars, lead singer Billie Joe Armstrong has had his share of trouble behind the wheel and was busted for driving well beyond the speed limit. Was your last ticket for parking, or was it a moving violation? See above
 
3) Billie Joe says "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" was inspired by the Edward Hopper painting, "Nighthawks." Tell us about a piece of artwork that you enjoy. (Yes, the macaroni picture frame created for you by your nephew counts.) This is Thomas McKnight's Lake Shore Drive. It hangs on the wall behind me as I answer these questions. I have three framed McKnight posters in my home, but LSD is my favorite and it's representative of McKnight's work. It feels like life is going on in the rooms he paints, and you could just dive in and start living an alternate, fairy tale existence.

 
 
4) Let's go back to childhood. Was the home where you grew up located on a boulevard, an avenue, a street, a lane or a road? Avenue
 
5) This song won Green Day a Grammy for Record of the Year. What positive feedback have you received recently? One of my neighbors called me "an angel" after he saw me helping someone. That made me smile.
 
6) Green Day uses their Facebook page to let more than 32 millions know what the group is doing. What's the last thing you posted to social media? I shared the Tribune blurb that BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN IS COMING TO CHICAGO!!!!!
 
7) In 2004, when this song was popular, Ken Jennings had a still unbeaten string of 74 wins on Jeopardy! What game show do you think you'd do well on? Who Wants to be a Millionaire
 
8) Also in 2004, Lance Armstrong was in the midst of his own Tour de France winning streak. Now we know he cheated. Tell us about a time you broke the rules. All day, ever day. There's a village ordinance that says I can only have two cats and yet here I am with three. I'm a lawbreaking rogue, that's all there is to it.
 
9) 2004 is when Morgan Spurlock released Super Size Me, his documentary about eating nothing but McDonald's for a month. What's the last fast food restaurant you visited? Friday night I had a cheeseburger from Five Guys.

 
 

Sad and Confused

My oldest friend and I both love our cats. We have since we were little girls (back then, hers was named Smitty, mine was Tommy). It's the first of many bonds we have shared since Kindergarten.

When we were in Las Vegas, less than two weeks ago, she knew how worried I was about my old boy, Joey. I mentioned it to her often. As we were leaving, and she bemoaned returning to reality, I said I'd be willing to stay a day longer if only I wasn't so worried about my ancient tomcat. That was Monday.

Wednesday I sent her an email, letting her know how concerned the vet was about his condition and how worried I was about getting the results of the bloodwork. I heard nothing back.

Thursday, she sent a little text wishing me a happy Thanksgiving. Friday, nothing. Saturday, nothing. Sunday, nothing, Monday, nothing. Tuesday, nothing, Wednesday nothing, Thursday afternoon = I get a chatty email about how she has to meet with her counselor at the program she's in for her depression, and how much she's enjoying the Al Capone book I recommended to her while we were in Las Vegas. 

Not a word about Joey. No question as to how he's doing. Also, no mention of the protests that went on throughout the Loop after the Laquan McDonald video was released. I know those demonstrations got national press coverage and she knows I work in the Loop.

I was hurt. I was offended.

I resent the Wednesday (day before Thanksgiving) email and said, "Was surprised when you didn't respond."

She replied she must have dumped it without reading it, that she's glad Joey is doing better, and she understands about the Loop because of the terror attack in San Bernadino.

Um, no. Joey is not doing better. Joey is dying. And no, she doesn't understand about the Loop because San Bernadino is an hour from where she lives and works and I'm in the Loop every day, twice a day. (And added that I was happy she was enjoying the book and that Robert St. John was my favorite character in the Capone saga.)

That was yesterday afternoon. I haven't heard a thing since.

I don't know what to do with all I'm feeling.

I know that she's fighting depression. Biochemical depression that makes it almost impossible for her to function. She's learning to deal with it. She's adjusting her life to meds and positive self talk. She's working on it. I know she is. I appreciate it. I applaud it.

On the other hand, she's become monstrously selfish. She says she'll always be there when I need her. On the other hand, in October, when I called her, she didn't pick up and voicemail was full and she responded to my SOS text by saying she was out to dinner and would call me if she didn't get home "too late." She never called me. Now this.

So she can't take my calls because she's too busy and she dumps my emails without reading them.

Maybe that's what she has to do to keep her head above water. She's admitted contemplating suicide more than once over the last two years. Perhaps this self absorption is her self preservation. Maybe expecting her to get over her depression is like asking her to get over her heart disease.

I don't know what to do. I don't know how to handle this. I love her and I don't want to put a foot wrong. I want to stand up for myself without hurting her.

I wish I was back in therapy myself, just so I could ask a shrink what to do.

Day 4: It's Gotta Be Andy

December 4: Favorite Christmas Song

It changes. This year it's "Christmas Holiday." There's an urgency, an eager anticipation that really appeals to me this year.

"Yuletide! Good cheer! Christmas is here!"

While the song may change year-to-year, my favorite holiday artist never does. Andy Williams. Between Thanksgiving and New Year's Day, I want to hear Andy Williams every day.

When I was a kid, I fantasized like mad about spending Christmas with Andy as his family. I knew them from his annual holiday show: they were a big clan, they sang, they never fought. Of course, in 1976 the ex-Mrs. Williams shot her lover, so I guess no one is as they seem.

But let's not allow that pesky reality to harsh our holiday buzz!

To play along with this challenge, click here.

Day 3: The Truth Is Out There

December 3: How/when did you find out Santa isn't real

Throughout the Christmas break from Kindergarten, I started questioning.

•  Why does Santa use the same wrapping paper and gift tags as my mom?

•  Why did the kids down the block get so much less? Does Santa give less to kids in big families?

My mother remembered it as me "challenging" her, but at this point I still believed. I wanted answers, that's all. For the following Christmas, my mom purchased separate "Santa paper" and the gift tag became just squares of paper that she wrote with her left hand. In retrospect, I'm touched by how much work she put into maintaining the illusion.

Alas, by then (first grade) the jig was up. Too many kids at school were starting to question at well. I don't remember their specific queries, but they were different than mine. That meant there were a lot of unresolved issues! For me, the last straw was the adhesive where price stickers had obviously been. If elves made this toy, why does the package have a price sticker?

So, just before Christmas in second grade, my parents sat my sister and I down in my room and told us the truth. My dad -- in a move remarkably thoughtful for a man who was so uncomfortable parenting -- read us a condensced version of the New York newspaper's "Yes, Virginia, There Is a Santa Claus" editorial. 

"Yeah, yeah," I was thinking. "Now get out of my room. This is weird."

My older sister, however, was a different case. A third grader, remember. She was shattered. She cried, really cried. Red face and snots. 

It was not the first time I thought she was an idiot.

To play along with this challenge, click here.

December 2: My 2012 Wish List

What I wanted then, I still want now: Homemade gingerbread! Men would be optimal, but I'll happily accept a gingerbread loaf or plain old round cookies.

My niece is an exceptional cook and simply refuses to make it for me. She says the kind I'll "settle" for are not the type she wants to make and she simply doesn't have time to make them the way she wants to. It also amuses her that I want them so badly. Last year she gave me ginger beer. The year before that it was a box of a gazillion little store-bought gingerbread stars. I don't recall what she did in 2013, but I'm sure this year she'll come up with yet another way to taunt me.

It's time to post about IT

As I write this, there's a mass shooting unfolding in San Bernardino. Just days ago, there was a mass shooting in Colorado Springs. Both of those instances are tragic. But they aren't what this post is about.

My hometown is being held together with chewing gum and twine. So, what's going on here in Chicago takes precedence over what's going on out west.

We'd all heard about "the tape." After all, the incident happened a year ago. The existence of the dashcam video was well known. We knew that, when we eventually saw it, it would show a kid being shot 16 times by a cop. BUT we also had been told that after watching the video, we'd feel conflicted. We would understand how a cop could feel threatened enough to fire. The shooting victim was a big kid, high on PCP, waving a knife threateningly.

I believed that. Because I like cops. I like firemen and the military, too. I like people who are willing to go into harm's way on my behalf.

Last week we finally saw "the tape." It only took a moment to see we'd been lied to. Multiple police cars surround a kid who is walking up the middle of the street, a knife with a 3" blade in hand. He is not waving the knife menacingly. It's at his side. He had been slashing tires, and now he's obviously trying to get away.

A cop gets out of his squad car and shoots. The kid goes down. The cop empties his gun, firing 15 more times in less than 15 seconds.

Watch it and there will be no doubt in your mind. You know you're witnessing a murder.

Each of those multiple cop cars contained two officers. None of those policemen did anything to try to stop their fellow officer or save the kid.

It is chilling.

The kid, Laquan McDonald, was not a hero. He got high, grabbed a knife and went out to destroy property for his own amusement. I'm not in favor of this behavior. But, being a civilized human being with a funtioning brain, I also realize vandalism should not be punishable by death.

The city is furious. 
•  At the police dept., for tacitly protecting the cop after he fired and not the citizen they are sworn to protect.
•  At the state's attorney who took a year to charge the cop.
•  At the mayor, who didn't release the tape antil last week, and that was because a judge ordered him to do so.

And so the city protested for three days. At City Hall, on State Street, and most famously along the Mag Mile on Black Friday. I'm proud to report that both the protesters and the police behaved as well as can be expected, far better than I thought possible. We managed to escape the destruction that plagued Baltimore and St. Louis.

The result is that the CPD is under tremendous scrutiny. Rahm Emmanuel fired the police chief and appointed a prestigious panel to examine police practices and culture. While I support this move, the timing scares me. With ISIS threatening to disrupt our shores with terrorism, I'd prefer to have an experienced police chief at the helm, and right now we don't.

And the city has a heartbreaking problem with gun violence. Chicagoans are killing other Chicagoans at a stunning pace. 22 more have been murdered since the last I posted about this on November 14.

I'm upset. We're all upset. These are troubling times in Chicago.

Day 2: What I wanted then

December 2: My 2012 Wish List

What I wanted then, I still want now: Homemade gingerbread! Men would be optimal, but I'll happily accept a gingerbread loaf or plain old round cookies.

My niece is an exceptional cook and simply refuses to make it for me. She says the kind I'll "settle" for are not the type she wants to make and she simply doesn't have time to make them the way she wants to. It also amuses her that I want them so badly. Last year she gave me ginger beer. The year before that it was a box of a gazillion little store-bought gingerbread stars. I don't recall what she did in 2013, but I'm sure this year she'll come up with yet another way to taunt me.

To play along with this challenge, click here.

Day 1: Must-See Movie

December 1: Favorite Christmas movie.

Oh, Magoo, you've done it again! Yes, it's Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol (1962).

Love, love, love this. It's funny. It's witty. It's imaginative. It's touching. It's remarkably faithful to Dickens and, remarkably, it's just an hour long.

If you have a child in your life, I highly recommend you watch this together. It's an easily accessible introduction to the Scrooge tale. And if you don't have a kid in your life, well, what the hell, enjoy it anyway.

To play along with this challenge, click here.

I'm up for the challenge

If it's good enough for Kwizgiver and Endomental, it's plenty good enough for this ol' gal.

Preoccupied by time passages

Now that I'm back at work, and The Big Project is almost wrapped up, I am able to search the internet at lightening speed for the arcane and frivolous. Today I discovered Kitten Rescue Cam, which captures shelter babies doing their thing at Kitten Rescue in Los Angeles.

They are awesome cute, no doubt about it. But they have me feeling melancholy about my old Joe. My big old tub of guts. My dear, sweet 20-year old tomcat is dying. He's in no pain now, and no major change in his condition is predicted for the time being, but the fact is, he is very old and has irreversible kidney disease.

Looking at these kittens, I feel a longing. I adopted Joey from a local shelter when he was (best guesstimate) a three-year-old. So I never saw him as a kitten. How I wish I had! I've seen him move from a young adult, lean and always eager to rough house, to a fat middle-ager who discovered the joys of sunning his big belly in afternoon light, to a sedate senior citizen who wants nothing than to curl up beside me and purr. But I never saw him as a kitten.

This is how I imagine he looked, soft and tiny and just learning about the world around him.

Joey is one of the gentlest creatures I've ever encountered. What a privilege it would have been to have seen his precious soul every day from beginning to end.

Well, that was a first ... and second

I wrote up my holiday cards last night* and found myself inscribing two of them the way I never, ever thought I would:

Enjoy your first Christmas as Grandma and Grandpa!

Because I do the cards alphabetically, the first one went to an old boyfriend. His oldest, a daughter, gave birth earlier this year to a baby girl they named Fiona. It's always made me happy that this ex and I have managed to stay in touch. He's a good and decent man and his esteem is important to me.

The second went to my old boss, Ed. His only child, a daughter whose leukemia is in remission, just had a baby boy a few weeks ago. Ed is over the moon delighted. Not only does he love being a grandpa, he's thrilled that his daughter is healthy. So scribbling that mention of "Grandpa" on the card made me especially happy.

But here's the thing: My friends are becoming grandparents!

Oh well, as Petula Clark used to sing (and I am certainly old enough to quote Petula Clark), "It's a sign of the times."

*After all, Hanukkah begins Sunday

It was a crappy thing to say, I suppose

... but I'm not sorry.

"Well, then, it's hard to feel sorry for you."

My oldest friend was telling me about her problems with the IRS. A couple years ago, she took a withdrawal from an IRA and, thinking it was just a money market account and not a retirement account, she didn't report the penalties that you're assessed for touching those tax-deferred funds early. She now has to pay the IRS $50/month until, like, the end of time.


She feels like a victim in this.

Her excuse? The bank where she had the IRA didn't send her the proper year-end forms to attach to her return. This surprises me, but OK. It stands to reason that every now and then, mistakes will be made.

Then she said, " ... and the IRS said I ignored the first two notices, so I guess I'm not getting my mail."

Oh. Then it's likely the bank did send her the proper forms. I mean, if she's not getting notices from the IRS, then why should she be receiving forms from the bank? What's the problem?

She still doesn't have her name on her mailbox! She has lived out there for five fucking years, and her mailbox just has the apartment number, not her name. So if you don't include her apartment number, she doesn't get her mail.

We talked about this five years ago. We've talked about it since, when she hasn't received cards or packages I've sent, and I include the apartment number. (She and her daughter have the unfortunate, ongoing habit of throwing one anothers mail onto the desk and no one sorts or checks it for weeks.)

I asked her why she still hasn't gotten around to it.

"It's an irrational fear." She thinks if someone sees her last name on the box, along with her apartment no., they'll know exactly where she -- an unmarried woman -- lives.

"Who are you afraid of?" I thought maybe one of the guys she met through online dating was bothering her.

There isn't anyone in particular. It could just be a person wandering up the street. She's afraid that putting her name on the box will make her a victim of crime.

I pointed out that the pizza delivery guy, the grocery delivery guy, the guy from the laundry service she used to employ ... they all know her name and apartment number. Because she gave it to them over the phone or online.

"Like I said, it's an irrational fear. But I'm not putting my name on the box."

So, said I, you're demonstrably not receiving your mail, and yet you refuse to put your name on the box?

"Well, then, it's hard to feel sorry for you." 

I left out that she 1) "saved" money by unwisely doing her own taxes for a year where her finances were complicated by more than one job and state/federal assistance and 2) is an adult who votes and (usually) pays taxes and yet forgets which of her accounts are IRAs and which aren't. She's always broke, she's no heiress. She doesn't have that many accounts.

I'll post more about her battle with depression later. There's much about her situation that tugs at my heart.

But not this.

I think she goes all "woe is me" sometimes and uses her biochemical imbalance to excuse laziness or bad choices.

I want to help her. And I think the way I can help her is by being straight with her.

But it's hard to know if I'm right. I'm not a shrink. I'm just a friend who loves her and is doing the best I can.

It's a gray cat thing

Here's Joey, snoozing away in his favorite spot. There's Connie, squeezing in as close to him as she can get.

This makes me so happy. First of all, Joey is hanging out with us. If he was feeling sick, he'd be off hiding somewhere.

Second, Connie obviously likes Joe just fine. For close to 15 years, Joey lived with Charlotte, my diva girlcat. Charlotte was adorable to me, my majordomo. But Charlotte hated, hated, hated Joey. She just couldn't abide the cut of his jib. Every morning, every evening, day in, day out, she'd slap his head and steal his food. He accepted this with a grave grace, as though being mistreated by Miss Thing was just his destiny.

I know Joey doesn't have a lot of time left. But I'm glad that he gets to spend it with Connie, who enjoys his company. He deserves that.

Sunday Stealing

Consider Yourself Meme

1) Of the various cultures, ethnicities or nationalities you belong to, which most strongly do you consider yourself? I'm an American.

2) Is there a culture you cannot claim heritage from but which you feel quite close to? I'm only 12% Irish (vs. 88% German) but I feel more Irish. I like beer. I like prose. I like green. On the other hand, I'm not crazy about the two world wars my German heritage ties me to.

3) What's one language you wish you knew fluently? Spanish

4) If you could move anywhere in the world and be guaranteed a job, etc., where would you go? England or Canada. I'm not at all eager to leave where I'm at, so I'd want to be where I could get home easily.

5) If you had a time machine, and could witness any one event without altering or disturbing it, what would you want to see? I'd like to attend the Woolton Parish Church Garden Fete in Liverpool. Some guy named Lennon met and found himself impressed by a younger kid named McCartney.


6) Have problems sleeping? Not lately.

7) Are you free with your feelings? My emotions overcome me and splish splash all over the place.

8) What is the one outfit/piece of clothing/accessory you own that makes you feel incredibly good whenever you wear it? Why? This little blue sweater. First of all, it looks good with nearly everything I own. Secondly, I got it at 80% off at Macy's. How can you not feel good about such a deal?


 9) What do you do to make yourself feel better when you're in a funk? I respond well to music. It helps to take a shower and shampoo away the sad residue as I sing with radio.

10) Has anyone ever surprised you in a way that let you know you were special? How? Yes. On Thanksgiving, my friend John gave us tickets to all three days of the 2016 Cubs Convention. He's always said some of his happiest summer days have included me and the Cubs. But that's a couple of hours in the stands, drinking beer and enjoying the Wrigley Field experience. I'm very touched that he wants to spend three days of geeky fandom with me.

11) When you are having a "good day," how do you spread the happiness to others? I try to be expansive and positive.

12) What is one thing that puts you in a bad mood, no matter how good you were previously feeling? Bigotry. I cannot be around homophobes or racists or those who discriminate against others based on religion.

13) Would you rather live in a world with or without technology such as computers, cars, airplanes, bombs? I've fantasized about this often. The mid-19th century holds a strong attraction to me. I'd like to give living like that a try if I could use that time machine you mentioned earlier.

14) If you had to live without either heating in your house or air conditioning, which one would you keep? This is a tough one, since as we learned here in Chicago during the 1995 heat wave, hot weather can be fatal, too. Plus, you can always add another blanket or sweater but you can only get so naked. Still, I'll keep the heat.

15) If you had to own five dogs, what kind would you get? Now this one is easy: they'd all be shelter rescues.

Oh, what a day we had!

Joey and I had to be at the vet by 8:40 this morning, which means I woke up to an alarm clock for the first time in more than a week. I didn't like it. Neither did Joe.

I knew we were going in for an enema. I understood what this meant for Joey, but not for me. I thought I'd sit in the waiting room for a bit while the unspeakable was done to my cat. I didn't expect it to take two hours, and I didn't know they'd send me home. So I had to say goodbye to my old boy and walk home. I had brunch and then walked back to the vet, where I picked him up and had a cab bring us back home.

We were done by noon.

I can't recall the last time I had so many conversations about poop. Maybe when I was in the hospital in 2011, and they wouldn't let me go home until I "eliminated." At any rate, here's what's what:

•  Joey is suffering from chronic kidney disease (stage 3). This is not good. But Joey is so old that things are going to go wrong. If he was a person, he'd be over 90, and all bodies (feline or human) break down with time.

•  One of the symptoms of failing kidneys in cats is constipation. Joey still has a healthy appetite, which is good, but what goes in is not coming out.

•  Now he's, as the vet tech told me, "clean as a whistle" and want to keep him that way. So twice a day he'll get a pinch of Miralax.

•  He's also on a prescription medication called Benazepril, which will help regulate his high blood pressure and kidney function. He's much better about taking this than I expected.

I know this disease is progressive and incurable. I know that, sooner rather than later, I'm going to have to make the heartbreaking decision to euthanize my old gray and white buddy.

But I also know that right now, he is happy. He feels better than he did this morning. He loves sitting here with me and he endures attention from Connie.

We're going to see 2016 in together. That much I know. And right now, that feels like a gift.

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Black is Black
 
1) Black is this week's signature color because Friday, November 27, was "Black Friday," when retailers cut their prices and consumers flock to the stores. Did you score any "Black Friday" bargains? I'm avoiding retail on Black Friday.

2) WalMart, Best Buy, Toys R Us and Target have all heavily advertised their "Black Friday" sales. If you could have a $50 gift card to one of those stores, which would choose? What would you spend the $50 on? Target, and I'd look at blouses and sweaters. Maybe new navy slacks ...

3) Star Wars items are predicted to be big sellers this Black Friday. Are you a big sci-fi fan? Are there any sci-fi fans on your holiday gift list? I simply don't get sci-fi, but my Cousin Rose is a fan. I got her a DVD of the old Quantum Leap TV series. That's time travel. Does it count as sci-fi?

4) Feasting and football are also popular Thanksgiving weekend pastimes. Do your Thursday-Sunday plans include pigging out or watching a game? I pigged out on Thanksgiving. So much so, I feel like I may never eat again.

5) At Thanksgiving dinners, Crazy Sam's homemade gravy is always a hit. (Probably because she's so generous with the cognac, which gives the gravy a nutty taste.) Do you have a signature dish? Nope

6) What did you give thanks for on Thanksgiving 2015? That my cat Joey doesn't seem to hurt. If you're not a pet person, you may not understand my dilemma. He's 20, which is very old for a cat (the equivalent of 90+ in a human). As I write this on Friday, I'm waiting for the vet to call with the results of his bloodwork. I'm trying to prepare myself for bad news. But here's the thing -- he's sitting here beside me. He still purrs. He still perks up at the chance to swat at a shoelace. Yes, he's losing weight at an alarming rate and I know there's something wrong, but he wouldn't be this social if he hurt. I feel a great responsibility to protect this loving, gentle creature from pain. So I'm thankful that my Joey isn't hurting.

THIS JUST IN: Joey is suffering from kidney disease. These results aren't good, but they aren't as bad as we feared. It's treatable, so my good old boy will be with me for at least a little while to come.

7) Monday is Cyber Monday, when shoppers can save big online. Do you shop confidently over the Internet, or do you worry about security breaches and identity theft? I try to be smart, but in this world I'm not sure there's all that much any of us individually can do about it.
 
8) This week's featured band, Los Bravos, was international. Their members came from both Germany and Spain. If you could travel to any foreign country in the world, which would you choose? England

9) The band's name, Los Bravos, can be translated to mean, "The Brave." Do you consider yourself gutsy? I don't know if I'm brave or gutsy, but I know I'm strong. I can take what comes.

Happy birthday to me, part 4

I cannot believe the gift I got from John! He bought us passes for all three days of the 2016 Cubs Convention! It's sold out already, so I don't know when he ordered them, but of course I'm beyond thrilled. I'll get to meet Joe Maddon!

He gave me my gift after our Thanksgiving meal at American Craft Kitchen. It was a traditional holiday buffet -- I had turkey, potatoes, green bean casserole, cranberries and a roll* -- for just $35, including tip.

That also included pumpkin pie and people watching. Since ACK is in the downtown Hyatt there were a lot of tourists, in Chicago for the weekend. John, Gregory and I wondered what the visitors to our city thought about the Laquan McDonald controversy. So far, the protests have been peaceful (and, in my opinion, MORE than justified) and we have managed to avoid the ugliness that St. Louis and Baltimore suffered through.

And the Bears were playing the Packers, so that was on the wall of TV screens. Not many people were watching, but those that were, were transfixed. One man, especially, sat in the corner staring at the game. We wondered if he had family in a hotel room upstairs, or if he was all by himself on this Thanksgiving, in a strange city, with a plate of turkey and Jay Cutler to occupy him.

The food was delicious, the conversation was stimulating, the vibe was low key, and I got a way-cool birthday present! So all was good.

*Though not as good my Grandma's rolls. I miss them, and her, yesterday. She's been gone nearly 20 years now, and yesterday I missed her. Weird, huh?

To you and yours from me and Doris

Happy Thanksgiving!

He's not feeling well

Joey and I went to the vet today. He hates leaving the house and, now that he's so arthritic, hates being handled by strange hands.

We discovered that his urine is too pale and watery. This could mean many things: urinary tract infection, a liver ailment, severe anemia ... or something else entirely. I won't know until the blood tests come back on Friday.

I am concerned about him. He seems frail, and my big old tub of guts was never frail before. I'm afraid the end may be near for my Joe.

The vet told me she doesn't think he's in any discomfort right now, and that's important to me. He's very tired, his routine has been disrupted, his hind quarters hurt from the arthritis and his vision is clouded. But he doesn't hurt. So far, his maladies are just part and parcel of being a senior citizen.

But I'm getting a bad vibe from that blood work. I hope I'm wrong. He's a good boy and a wonderful companion and a big-hearted, generous spirit and I want to give him the life he deserves for as long as possible.

Happy birthday to me, part 3

When I got home, there was a big Amazon box waiting for me. Inside was a plush throw decorated with the various official Cubbie logos. It's a warm, soft gift from my friend Mindy and her husband.

Happy birthday to me, part 2

I spent my birthday in Vegas again this year. It was a fine time.

This horned lizard greets you when you deplane in McCarran's American Airlines terminal. It was nice to be reminded that I was in the desert, for as I arrived in Las Vegas, a record snow was beginning to fall in Chicago. It made getting away just that much nicer.

We stayed at the Excalibur, and it was fine. Certainly not great, but not bad at all, either. As soon as we arrived, a pair of scantily clad men shanghai'd us for a photo op. So the good, clean, dirty fun began before we even checked into the room. I'm going to enjoy showing my copy of the photo around, but today I checked my Citicard bill and discovered I paid $25/ea. for those silly things. I'd regret it, except, well, that's Vegas.

Saturday, my friend slept in. She has trouble moving in the mornings because of all the meds she takes for her depression. So I went down to the all-you-can-eat buffet and pigged out. Eggs, bacon, ambrosia fruit salad, cinnamon rolls. When I was filled to the gills I returned to the room and she was getting ready to move.

She gave me my birthday present -- a signed copy of Dick Cavett's book Brief Encounters and an NCIS tshirt -- and then we went and wandered about The Strip. We especially liked New York, New York. There's an enormous Hershey's store in the lobby. We have one in Chicago, and I never go. But I'm on vacation, so here I am, wandering around agape like the perfect little tourist. I bought myself a pair of Hershey's Kisses earrings. Upon our exit we stopped at The Chocolate Bar and toasted my birthday. This is a chocolate-coconut martini, garnished with an Almond Joy.

Then we went back to the room and dressed for dinner and Diana. We got to The Venetian in plenty of time to pick up our tickets and have dinner. The Venetian has many restaurants to choose from and we settled on The Grand Lux Cafe. Then we went to see The Supreme Miss Ross.

It was virtually the same show I saw last year in Chicago, which is fine with me. I want to hear her sing the hits. She was in wonderful voice and wonderful wardrobe (five costume changes).  I was delighted, but when I kept looking over at my friend, she was just staring ahead. I wish she got more joy out of these things! She told me she was having fun, and I guess I believe her. After all, everyone of our generation knows and loves all
these songs. "Stop in the Name of Love," "Ain't No Mountain High Enough," "You Can't Hurry Love," "Touch Me in the Morning," etc., etc.

Sunday we went to the spa at the Excalibur. She had a massage while I had a facial, and then we settled into the jacuzzi to relax and blab. It was delightful. I think this was the most fun she had.

Then we went downtown to The Mob Museum. I learned a lot -- for example, the phrase "mug shot" comes from the way New York thugs used to smirk or "mug" at the camera as they were booked, and some mob endeavors were known as "rackets" because they were designed to disrupt (or make a big noise) the status quo. The building that houses The Mob Museum was once the Federal Courtroom where some of the Kefauver hearings were held. George Raft not only played a mobster in the movies, he had real-life mob connections. In the mid-1930s, Screen Actors Guild president James Cagney (yes, "Yankee Doodle" himself) resisted letting the mob infiltrate industry union. The Mafia was going to assassinate Cagney until George Raft intervened on his behalf. (Gulp!)

The exhibit that gave me pause was this one. In Chicagoland, it still casts a massive shadow. This is the wall from that Clark Street garage where 7 men met their end on St. Valentine's Day. The city did nothing to preserve this -- Al Capone is not Chicago's favorite son. Just before the building was demolished, some Canadian numbered the bricks and rebuilt the wall for his nightclub. When the wall became available again, this museum bought them and rebuilt it again in Vegas.