BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

A gentle reminder: I don’t just spout silliness here on this blog. I also write novels. Those are what put the bread on the table, but bread is just about it as far as that goes. My wife has to bring home the bacon (and broccoli, and eggs, and milk, and…) That’s not what this is about, however…

If you have read my official bio over on my regular “author type person” website then you have probably run across the part about us having a pair of rescued felines, both of whom I describe as “the competition.”

Why “the competition?” some have asked.

Easy. They’ve got a thing for The Supreme Redhead. Yeah… E K.

Now, I realize that sounds a bit paranoid, but let me tell you a story. A recent story, in fact, and not at all unusual around here with these furry lunatics.

Just the other night, E K was on the sofa, and Competition #1, AKA Asphalt (because we rescued him from the middle of a highway on-ramp) immediately climbed onto her lap. He does this every time she parks for more than two minutes. Yes… I can hear you now, “But, Murv, that’s normal for cats.”

Yeah… sure.

As usual, E K babbled at him a bit, making all those “wooja-wooja ai lub yoo” noises and scritching him behind the ears. Now, remember, Asphalt started life as a kitten the size of a large hamster, but has grown to better than 20 lbs and has a head the size of a small melon. So, with him sprawled across EKay’s lap, she is sort of trapped.

The bag of tuna breath waited until she was finished and had directed her attention elsewhere. Then, he looked around, stared directly at me for a moment, then shifted a little, raised a paw, and copped a feel.

Yes. Pardon the colloquialism, but the old lardass planted his paw on EKay’s right “boob,” and left it there. Then, he looked at me with an expression on the order of, “Neener Neener, What’re you gonna do about it?”

And before you tell me that it was just a cat being a cat, I’d like to remind you that I saw the look on his face, so I know better.

All I can say is that if he starts bringing her dead stuff, he and I are going to go out back and have a talk. I’m pretty sure I can take him…

More to come…

Murv

Back in the 70’s, C. W. McCall (Bill Fries) along with Chip Davis (Yeah, THAT Chip Davis) wrote a song called Green River. If you’d like to listen to the original, here’s a link:

I suppose you are  probably wondering why I am even bringing up an almost 40 year old song. Well, you see, it’s like this: Evil Kat.

Come on… You knew The Supreme Redhead had to be involved in this somehow…

Back in the days when it was just E K and her leashed pets – that being two canines and one husband (I can’t complain, she bought me a really nice collar with an engraved tag that said Property of Evil Kat on it) we used to go on float trips CONSTANTLY. For non-Missourians – as I have found that the term “float-trip” is not universal – a float trip is where you rent a canoe, get dropped off with it and your coolers, and paddle/float yourself down a river to the “take-out point,” which can either be where you parked originally, or a different place where they pick you up and bring you back to your car.

This is intended to be fun. As a rule, it usually is. Like I said, back in the day, E K would leash us up, put us in the car, and off we’d go. There was one year I recall that we went on float trips almost every weekend for the entire summer. AND, truth be told, a float trip was EKay’s and my first official date – and she still married me anyway. But that’s a different blog that I’ll tell sometime in the future.

At any rate, back to the here and now. For several years after the O-spring came along, we stopped “floating” – primarily due to time constraints. However, now that she is older and can come along with us, and can swim, and all that good stuff, E K has made it her mission in life to see to it that we go on at least one float per summer, if not more. With that, she has started scheduling an end of summer float with friends for the past two years. One more year and it becomes a tradition…

Last year’s float, while it had a couple of mildly harrowing incidents, was almost completely unremarkable as compared to this year’s canoeing odyssey – which occurred just yesterday,  Saturday August 27…

I knew it would become a blog when we were less than a mile into the float. Why? Because Steve, Mary, and Tammy flipped. Not as in “flipped someone off,” or “flipped out”… Although, they DID flip out of the canoe, so I guess in a way they DID flip out. Basically, Mary’s sunglasses “flipped” off her head, Steve tried to grab them, they all shifted in the canoe, and… Well… Moments later we were standing on a gravel bar emptying water from their craft and then reloading it with their coolers.

But what REALLY told me this would be a blog was that while we were reloading their “boat,” some other canoers came around the bend, merrily singing “Row, Row, Row your boat.” To this, a waterlogged Mary muttered under her breath, “I’ll show you row, row your f*cking boat… Quit your damn singing.”

After that, it was all over for us. The river proceeded to exact revenge upon each and every member of our group. E K, O-Spring, and I flipped – something that literally has NOT happened since the second time E K and I went floating (We are actually pretty damn good “canoe drivers”). Mary was taken down by a slippery rock and banged the crap out of her knee. Same thing then happened to the O-spring. We were caught in a snag and I had to bail out of the canoe and fight the current to get us free. Later, during a similar operation I was sucked under the canoe while E K and the O-spring were still aboard and became a speed bump after I loosed it – then the current popped me back up above the surface, but still had hold of me and I tumbled over rocks for several feet until I could get a handhold. Of course, E K and the O-spring were now 300 yards down the river and I had to walk the rocks to get to them. There was plenty more, actually, but this blog is already over 1000 words, so I need to give it a bit of a rest… Instead, what I will try to do is recount our adventure through rewriting C. W.’s tune…

Meramec River

It was daylight on the river but we weren’t having any fun
And we couldn’t find our cooler cups no more
But we felt the boilin’ current and the spring was runnin’ cold
As we headed down the river two plus four
And the rocks were kickin’ our asses
On the day we ran the rapids of the Meramec

[Chorus]
And we died a thousand times in that nine miles of hell
The longest day of life we’d ever seen
But we lived to tell the story and we know the story well
Then we ate some dinner at a truck stop

We were four plus two in number when we gathered on the shore
And we loaded up our coolers full of beer
But we summoned up our courage an’ we said we wouldn’t scream
And we ran that rocky river without fear
Yeah, the logs were kickin’ our asses
On the day we ran the rapids of the Meramec

Echoing Shouts:
Steve – Paddle RIGHT!
E K – HANG LEFT!
Mary – WHAT THE FUUUU–
Tammy – GODDAMIT!
Murv – Here, hold my beer…
O-spring – Squeeeeeee!

And we saw a thousand floaters hung up on the snags and logs
As we fought to keep ourselves from their fate
And we saw the bobbing beer cans and we heard the ghostly cries
Of the drunks who ran the river long ago
And the rocks were kickin’ our asses
On the day we ran the rapids of the Meramec

Echoing Shouts:
Steve – Paddle LEFT!
E K – SERPENTINE! SERPENTINE!
Mary – STOP SINGING!!
Tammy – GODDAMIT!
Murv – Here, hold my beer…
O-spring – Squeeeeeee!
Steve – Whatever…
Mary – Dammit, Steve!
E K – Those assholes just threw trash in the river!
Tammy – GODDAMMIT!
Murv – (clunk clunk) … I’m okay… I think…Gimme a beer…
O-Spring – Squeeeeee!

Now the memories are swirlin’ down the campground shower drains
But the waters of the Meramec flow like tears
And the rocks and snags and crashes will be a long remembered tale
To be told around the campfires through the years
Yeah, the rocks were tryin’ to kill us
On the day we ran the rapids of the Meramec

[Chorus]
And we died a thousand times in that nine miles of hell
The longest day of life we’d ever seen
But we lived to tell the story and we know the story well
Then we ate some dinner at a truck stop

Echoing Shouts:
Steve – Paddle RIGHT… NO, LEFT!
E K – O-spring, give me the paddle!
Mary – I can’t bend my knee…
Tammy – GODDAMIT!
Murv – We should have brought Scotch…
O-spring – Squeeeeeee!
Steve – Lookit that fish…
Mary – How does our canoe look?
E K – Look, Mary, a snake…
Mary – (SCREAM)
Tammy – GODDAMMIT!
Murv – There’s a blog in this…
O-Spring – Here, hold my Gatorade…

Fade out

And there you have it. We made it home alive… Late. We’re bruised and battered and sore and blood was shed (I’m not kidding)…

Funny thing is, I have a physical tomorrow. Before you ask, there’s nothing wrong. It’s just a “coming up on 50,000 mile” service check sort of thing. I suspect the doc won’t even mention the bruises and scrapes. He’s used to seeing me after E K has been “in a mood”…

More to come…

Murv