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:: Oh to be a diseased quadraped! ::
Sunday, December 07, 2003
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed snow falling in spurts from the fire-escape attached to the building across the alley (digression: I'm not sure that it's technically an alley. It's the space between the rear of my building and the rear of the building on the opposite side of the block. No cars or pedestrians can use it for travel, but "alley" sounds nicer that "the empty space stipulated by zoning laws which nevertheless is meager enough to provide strangers with a clear view of my every action, in return for occasionally allowing me to glimpse them nude".) and thought for a second that the half-foot of powder we received over the weekend might be melting. The back of the building across the voyeuristic chasm faces south, and occasionally the upper floors receive enough sustained sunlight to make this happen. My hopes were dashed as I saw it was a scampering squirrel brushing the falling snow off the rusty metal in the wake of descent. If its sole initial purpose was to reach the bottom, then surely the frightened pigeons frenetically flapping out of the way served as an unexpected treat. If its goal was mischief alone, then what a resounding success.
Da' diminutive mammal, which I quickly named Hoppy the Amorous Squirrel (the jingle goes something like "(S)he loves you, (s)he loves me, but not platonically, like the Care Bears or Casper - it's more of a courtship with the very direct purpose of breeding, which is natural for any creature well past its sexual peak and faced with the dire prospect of failing to pass on its genes and propagate this endless, and ultimately meaningless, cycle of transient existence, just look at the success of internet dating for corroboration of this biologically hard-coded longing" and is sung to the tune of "Lady in Red" by Chris de Burgh, whose catchy hook and sophisticated orchestration will deliver the bittersweet poignancy of the jingle perfectly, and whose daughter was recently crowned Miss World), followed a route impossible for humans, but surprisingly efficient for any agile animal about the size of a squirrel or even, say, a chipmunk. It looked positively delighted as it leaped from step to handrail, window-ledge to chain-link.
The squirrels don't saunter down our fire-escape. Some say it's because we don't have one; I like to think they relish the symbolism.
I was instantly taken back to a book I'd read as a child, which described the joy of one particular wittle fuzzy critter as he cultivated escape tactics inside an upright piano, appropriating the inner workings of the device for his own personal gymnasium... something like found art, but more like found playground. I remember wanting our hamster to do the same, so I could open up the top and see her somersaulting over the hammers and using the strings like the world's largest set of parallel bars. Alas, she seemed more prone to hoarding food pellets in the corner of her cage. Damn pragmatic rodents. Way to puncture my children's book fantasy. Next I'll learn that Clifford the Big Red Dog had rabies, or that the Narnia chronicles were one huge Christian allegory.
But today I was satisfied with leaning on the arm-rest of my couch watching Hoppy the Amorous Squirrel, trying to ignore the fact that I'm developing a $60 a week karaoke habit.
Posted by morland @ 11:17 PM
:: Comments ::
michael, i'm sure that you know the diference between "then" and "than". fix it please.
Posted by: karen on December 8, 2003 04:21 PM
Whoops... fixed. They must not have been able to cram that distinction into my super-accelerated "four year" college course schedule.
Posted by: morland on December 8, 2003 05:27 PM
Touche.
Posted by: The guy who lives in vail on December 9, 2003 01:10 AM
cold, mike. cold.
Posted by: josh on December 9, 2003 04:02 PM
Do you derive pleasure from putting other people down? Perhaps there are other people out there who are also suffering from your razor sharp witticisms, and they're crying out, "Help me Mike!" and you're just sitting there, smugly laughing your ass off. Way to go, way to put your intelligence to use. I hope you sleep well at night, knowing that you have willingly injured a girl who only wanted to help you on the road to correct spelling. And you still haven't fixed it.
Posted by: karen on December 12, 2003 04:47 PM
Wow, I had two errors of that type, but hopefully this whole comedy of errors is finished. Thank you so much for the help Karen - you've taught me something so much more valuable than (note correct use of "than") book-smarts: kindness. Thanks for the big heaping bowl of chicken soup for my conscience.
This comment brought to you by the Dudleyville Sarcastic Playhouse: where no sincerity goes unpunished.
Posted by: morland on December 12, 2003 06:09 PM
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