December 12, 2009

           Today we got some near-proof of the wild claim that Pudding-Tat is intelligent enough to emulate other animals. She is also camera shy, but today I had the Jazz on me when she started to ape Millie’s lie down posture. It must be seen in video to get the effect, but here is a captured still. Millie was laying there as you see, the cat comes along and three feet away copies her. I have around 45 seconds of fairly clear video of how the cat watches, then duplicates, the dog, even wagging her tail at the same time. (This is the cat that saw me lean back and cross my ankles, and did the same thing. How I wish I’d recorded that.)
           It is still not a full proof of my claim as the pictures are grainy and the animals are just laying there. But the cat can copy almost anything, it just takes her about five minutes of observation to start up.
           Consider today an eye-opening experience. Very unique circumstances coupled with the fact I’ve been out of work for over five years have resulted in a cash shortage likely to last well into March 2010. That was all forecasted long ago, a kind of doldrum in the stretch before the earliest date I could tap into my phone company pension (being the youngest person ever to retire from that outfit). The pertinence here is that it is causing me to re-live episodes of my early life, you might find this interesting.
           Because I don’t have cash for extras, I am again finding out how poverty affects the thinking, and yes, it is a very definable change. You have to make continual bad decisions based on poverty, and I’ve got one to relate. This afternoon, my car was low on gas when I saw a deep puddle of water in the roadway to the filling station. Normally, I would have driven around it but this time it chanced running out of gas, so I plowed through it. After I filled up, the car would not start. Something got wet and shorted.
           It would have been a forgotten incident, except it was so evidently caused by “poverty think”, the condition that allows Englishmen to stand back and point at poor people saying, they need only stop living like that and everything will be fine. For that reason I’m about to record some other things that went wrong from this single episode. First, why was a low on gas? I’m never low on gas and yet I’ve run out twice since November. I ran through that puddle, where normally I would circumnavigate, thinking how typical of a Florida shopping center to allow their property to flood.
           Then a fellow helped me push it off the street, in the process denting the hood on the Taurus. I had to ask the station for a favor to let me leave the car overnight (to see if it dries out and starts). I had to ride my small bike (at least I’m prepared) over to bingo with my guitar, computer and a few other things I could not leave in the car. I have to stay broke just a little longer, but this was a chilling reminder of my upbringing and why, when I left, I never went back. I can imagine people living their entire lives like today, but I can never forgive those who conspire to force the same conditions on others.
           Time for some good news. The bingo sound effects were an immediate hit. Best liked were the bugle call to start the game and the Tarzan yell to signify a bingo. Some people whisper instead of yell. Saturdays are again a lively time at the old club, and my background music is a major favorite. A few of the regulars want “rock and roll” but somebody should tell them this is a bingo game. The non-regulars are the ones to impress, they aren’t in every evening cranking the juke box. I note that almost ever visitor is becoming a patron. Is this the bingo they’ve been searching for?