And Life Goes On

So yesterday we had the unpleasant and unfortunate experience of coming home from a leisurely walk to the park to find our beloved cat Buster dead. Gone. We're not quite sure what happened; he had exhibited no signs at all of being in any sort of distress. We had seen him just an hour before. Of course we didn't really look at him before we left. Who leaves their house expecting to find their pet dead upon their return? He had no pre-existing conditions that we were aware of. Of course. he must have had something wrong with him. Something caused him to die. A congenital heart condition that led to a sudden heart attack, perhaps. Who knows?

He was only three and a half years old.

I remember going to pick Buster and Scout up, from this family who lived off of a frontage road in the country just outside of Elk Grove. Their cats had a litter. They were selling. They advertised on Craigslist. This was back in the fall of 2017; they had been born on August 23 and now that they were weaned, they were available! And I had been looking for young kittens. I picked the loner black one who did everything in her meek power to avoid her brothers and sisters. And the one orange tabby who kept chasing her around and antagonizing her. He still did that, even on the morning of his death.

But he was Connor's cat, really. Connor's first pet. Scout was always standoffish with Connor; it was only in the last couple of months that she would even let him get close enough to pet her. Before, she would run away hissing and hide. But now she'll actually come out in the open when he's around.

But Buster and Connor has a special bond. Buster was incredibly patient around Connor, allowing the kid to manhandle him and move him around. Which, let's face it, Connor did a lot of. But Buster loved the attention. He thrived on it. Often demanded it. You could barely sit down anywhere without him leaping up to get in your lap, to be all up in your business.

And like his surrogate father (that being me), Buster loved his routines. Every night at bath time, Buster would station himself right next to the tub. And he'd sit there and wait for Connor to get out. He often got splashed, or petted with wet hands. He rarely came away dry. Sometimes he would get up and walk along the edge of the tub, towards the faucet. We half expected him to slip and fall in. Because let's face it, he was a little overweight and a bit of a klutz. 

He'd also be waiting for me, just outside my shower as I tried in vain to get out without stepping on him. Every. Single. Night. Turns out, he really liked to watch the water go down the drain. Well. Everyone should have a hobby.

And then at bed time, he would always jump up on Connor's bed and lay next to him, waiting for me to read them a bedtime story. Sometimes he would sit up there until Connor fell asleep, and then stand guard over him. And he'd purr, and purr. He was a loud purr-er.

He was a good kitty.

It's a shame Buster will not get to see the shiny new condo I have bought, that is now under construction. I'm sure he felt limited in the small apartment we are currently at. There's only so much room to run around, and so few windows to look out of. The new place would be something like a 60% increase in space. Which is a huge difference to a kitty! I'm guesstimating here a bit, as I didn't do the actual math. But now I kind of want to...okay it's just over 70% increase in space. There. Now I can sleep at night.

I've never lost a pet so suddenly and unexpectedly before. I suppose I can take comfort in the fact that I didn't have to watch his health decline over a long period of time. Didn't have to watch him suffer. Been there, done that. Not fun. But it was too soon, too soon. 

I had to let Connor sleep in my bed last night, because as soon as he crawled up there he started crying. He misses his cat. He said having the cat there helped keep the nightmares away. Maybe so. Cats keep Creepers away in Minecraft, so why not? Your first lost pet is perhaps the toughest, and especially so when you were so close.

And now it's just me and Scout at home. For awhile she wandered around the place, sniffing and looking as if she was looking for him. I'm not totally sure she understands what happened either. I'm not even sure she saw him after he was gone, as there couldn't have been too much time before we found him, and it was their normal morning nap times after all. But she lost a bother, and now we'll just have to comfort each other and keep on keeping on. And life goes on. 

You can the video tribute to Buster HERE

Political Activism

So, I'm not a political activist. Or a social activist. Or any kind of activist, really. In general I try and avoid all societal interactions, to the best of my ability. I'm actually pretty good at it. Everyone's good at something. I stopped watching network TV years ago, stopped paying attention to the news. In short: I stopped caring. I do my own thing, live my own life, focus on me. And my son. Well, and my cats. I'm a good citizen though; I follow (most of) the established rules and laws. I don't litter, I recycle as much as I'm able to. I drive a hybrid. When I'm not walking and sparing the air. I work a full time job. I contribute to society.

Sometimes things get to you though. Like this morning, as I was waking up from a night marred with tossing and turning and funky dreams which I can no longer remember. As I was laying in bed, a feverish internal debate in progress about whether I should get up and start my day, I scrolled through Facebook. It's a good way to see some of what's been going on in the world. You can always count on your Facebook Friends to keep you up to date. Sharing, sharing, sharing,

Anyways, I came across a story from ABC News about the homeless encampment under a Highway 50 overpass, that suddenly became newsworthy by virtue of being in the way of Progress. Namely the work of CalTrans. It seems CalTrans can't work when there's people living on the space they want to work on. Imagine that.

And like the silly fool that I am, I read the comments to the article. This is never a good idea. Though these were fairly tame in the grand scheme of the world, save for the top featured one which said to tell them to move on, because they're Homeless and they can "do that anywhere". Most of the comments seemed to suggest that Governor Newsom and Speaker Pelosi and others of affluence had plenty of space around their grand homesteads. The Homeless would certainly have room there, to live in their backyards. I paraphrase a bit, but I'm sure you can imagine the lingo of the Keyboard Warriors at 6am on a Tuesday. 

In general, people just want the Homeless to go somewhere else. Anywhere else. Let them be someone else's problem, is what people say. And it's not like the old days where being homeless meant you were hunkered down under a storefront awning in your grimy old sleeping bag with a couple of damp blankets and some flattened out cardboard boxes to cover you. No, now they have professional camping tents, many nicer than mine that I actually use once every few years and pay $40 a night for the right to pitch it up in a fine wooded area. And they have possessions. Things. Bicycles and coolers and piles of clothes and pieces of what used to be furniture, and on and on. So many piles of stuff, though it's difficult to tell which are treasured times and which are trash. They look the same to me. They look the same to a lot of people. And it seems like there's so many more Homeless now, like it's ballooned in both the numbers of people and the square footage now covered in garbage and sewage. Possibly due to Covid, to the shut down of society which must have forced some people out of their homes for lack of work. 

In any case, few people seem to have tangible ideas for solving this problem, which is now even more seemingly out of control. Most just like to place blame, to pass it around like a football. Or a hot potato, I suppose. So I wrote a comment to the post. (Bad idea! For the sake of your own sanity, never, ever do this!). This is what it said:

"If we want to fix this problem, our society needs to stop accepting that it’s “OK” for people to setup makeshift camps wherever they want. And we’ve been accepting it by letting it happen. And by simply relocating homeless whenever it gets in the way of “progress”, which is what this story is about. We need comprehensive rehabilitation programs to get people off of the streets and back in to mainstream society. This article mentions briefly at the end a 100 bed shelter being built. It’s a start. And I know there’s a lot of people out there that “prefer“ to live on the streets. This can’t be OK. We have allowed it to be OK for a long time, and this problem has gotten exponentially worse in recent years."

Now, I don't see this as particularly profound of a statement. It's rational, and logical, if not overly simplifying the problem. But it seems to have been received well; in just over 12 hours it's received 106 likes. And I think it's true - we have accepted that being Homeless is an 'okay' thing. By virtue of not really doing anything substantial to combat it. 

And here's a picture of the sun setting over the Sacramento River, because we need more beauty in our life. Of course, there's homeless encampments out there. You can't see them in this photo, but if you walk the levee trails around Old Town you can see them. They're there. 

The homeless situation is sad. It really is. It saddens me every time I drive through downtown and see all the rough and grungy encampments and piles of trash spread out all over. Well anyways, I've said my piece and now I'll crawl back under my rock again. But hey, maybe our leaders will get that shelter done, and maybe up to 100 people will get the assistance they so desperately and obviously need and get off the streets. As I said, it's a start. And maybe some of those people, once they've gotten their fresh start, can go back to the camps from whence they came, which I'm sure will still be there. And maybe they can talk to those who are otherwise mentally fit but insisting that they prefer living on the street. Pride! And maybe these new souls can tell the old ones how nice it is to sleep in an actual warm, dry bed each night; to eat real food that wasn't previously discarded by someone else; to take a crap and not have to spend the night smelling it because they can flush it down an ACTUAL TOILET. That alone would convince me. How could anyone prefer that life? I'd take a handout over pooping in an alleyway any day of the week. Which choice hurts your pride more?

And that, my friends, is the extent of my activism. I'm not a rich or powerful or influential person. I don't have all the answers. I'm just another one of these keyboard warriors, sitting behind their computer going "tsk tsk" about the ways of the world that baffle us so. And life goes on.

Recapping February

Sunsets are always nice, and tonight's was no exception, with a picturesque grove of old Valley Oak trees setting the mood. Photography, really, is just about being in the right place and in particular at the right time. This particular grove is right next to Garden Highway and the Sacramento River. It's always good to go for an impromptu walk; you never know what you'll run into. And Nature inspires, once again.

Well it's been an eventful and busy weekend already, and it's only Saturday. Yesterday I left work early and traveled to San Francisco (where else?) for a lively stroll along the waterfront. This time I actually took off the shoes and socks and went about a mile and a half along the sandy Chrissy Beach. The water was so cold! But refreshing. This was after starting the afternoon with a Nob Hill Chill from Ghirardelli. I hadn't been there for a little while, so it was nice to get back to my roots, so to speak. It used to be my go-to place, when I first started these pilgrimages to the Bay Area. And then into the evening I trekked up into the city to Mac'd for a custom Mac and cheese dinner creation. Chicken, mushrooms, bacon, and corn, oh my. It was an order to-go of course, as restaurants have their indoor dining closed. But they did provide some little plastic tables and chairs under a pop up tent along the street side.

Today was sort of a pickup day in anticipation of the Return of Connor. I capitalize that freely, as it's really something of an event. A life event, really. It's like I lead two different lives, like a superhero disguising his identity from the world by leading a mild mannered "normal" life.. Though my situation isn't nearly as exciting as all that, and I lack any true super powers. But I do lead two lives, or so it seems; one as a single father and one as a semi-reclusive bachelor. 

But anyways, I spent the day today doing laundry, vacuuming the apartment, getting a haircut, going shopping for food and Connor's school (he goes back to live instruction Monday! Only two days a week, but still. It's been almost a year). And then in the early evening I treated myself to a margarita and dinner at Chevy's. I...had a coupon. And that's another thing that I haven't done in awhile - not just Chevy's but actually a sit-down restaurant experience. 

And now as the end of February is upon us, I'm reminded that I was originally supposed to be moving right around now. Back in September when I plunked down a deposit on a new-construction condo, they estimated that it would be finished about the end of February, or beginning of March at least. But once again Covid reared its ugly head and disrupted the flow of building materials and probably labor as well. So...it's been delayed. Till the summer. So this weekend is a little less uneventful than it should have been. 

But hey, I wouldn't have been able to do any of this other stuff, most likely, if I was on the verge of a big move. So, there's the silver lining. Making lemonade! And now it's about time to get to bed and rest up. For the Return...

First Day?

Well here it is, the first day of school at Sacramento State. Or so they tell me. It's kind of hard to tell these days.  I mean, I was there, the campus was there. But no one else was there. Ghost town. If you ever watched the TV show "Last Man on Earth", you'd know what I experienced today. It was very much like that.

So the semester started, and crickets chirped. And squirrels searched in vain for morsels of food to eat. I'm sure the squirrels miss the students most of all. Having people around provided a stable food source, either from careless droppings or purposeful feedings. Usually both. What a buffet of food they've lost! 

I have no idea if anyone had any classes today. I mean I have to imagine that hundred and thousands of students were sitting somewhere, hovered over their computer screens, while professors droned on through Zoom and tried to make the best of it. Many probably experienced problems with internet, problems with technology, and so on. The same problems I see with my son's first grad class everyday. Though I hope the college students don't constantly interrupt class to share random and irrelevant tidbits of their lives with everyone. In any case, I'm sure students attended classes today as best they could.

I sat in my office and drank cocoa. Also I went for a walk.

I mean I did get productive things done. Got caught up with all of the space reservations that had to be changed, or deleted, or created, owing to the ever changing environment of our times. And I cleaned up my emails, and sent some out to start getting ready for the long haul of the semester. And it will be a long haul, I think, with a lot of busy times ahead.

But boy, was it dead today. Spooky. It's been nearly a year now of this. I think we're all ready to get back to normalcy. So much for the first day of classes.

Better Late Than Never

Wow,  I haven't written on this thing since last year. Of course that would have been funnier if I wrote that line on January 1. Maybe January 2. But here we are, three weeks into the New Year. I suppose it would be the appropriate time to reaffirm my resolutions, reflect on the past year. Maybe reflect on the upcoming year. Well, if I was one to do such things for the sake of a holiday. 

It did occur to me the other day that my tastes in nature have come full circle. It was sort of an epiphany. Growing up, I was more of a child of the mountains. I know I wrote about that once before. We never went to the beach. We went camping, in the mountains. Summer after summer after summer. In recent years I migrated to the ocean, making regular pilgrimages to San Francisco to explore the coastlines. And they were great, and they restored me. And I needed that.

In recent months I've diverted my attentions back to the mountains, and the forests. Auburn State Recreation Area, Sugar Pine Mountain, Griffith Quarry, Empire Mine, and on and on. Perhaps it was influenced by all those hours playing Minecraft, exploring mountainsides. But no, there were coastlines there too. But it's been refreshing, smelling the fresh pine-scented air again. Just the smell of it brings back fond memories.

Tomorrow Connor and I will try another place around Colfax or Auburn. Because he wanted to go hiking in a "forest" with me. After our successful trip this past Monday to Griffith Quarry. I'm sure it will be delightfully brisk and clean, after winter finally arrived today to wash a bit of the dryness away, and now threatens to dump some snow across the Sierras next week.

You know what it is? It's the driving distance. It's a lot closer to get to the mountains from here than the coast. And the idea of spending less time in the car and more in nature has been appealing. It's just the economy of it all, I suppose. 

In any case, if nothing else, variety is good. The 'spice' of life and all that. And hey, Happy New Year. Three weeks late. Well, better late than never. 

New Year's Eve Eve

Well here we are on the eve of the eve of another holiday. Rather, a so-called holiday, I don't really celebrate New Year's, usually. Probably won't this year either. At least not in any way to distinguish it from any other night of the week. But I'm sure, despite the fact that the world doesn't magically change with the turning of the calendar page, everyone will be happy to see this sorry excuse of a year put to rest. Remember how it started? Full of hope and promise? Neither do I. But it did, it did.

It's been a ridiculous ride.

But to pretend for a moment that I've spent this week celebrating the approach of the end of the year, I will note that I took another trip to San Francisco this past Sunday. Did a walk around the city, stopping at Amoeba Records to shop for CD's, and a New York style pizza joint for lunch, the Disney Store to buy some Christmas ornaments at half price, and finishing with a stroll down the Embarcadero. That's not an unusual trip for me, but we can pretend it was to honor the end of 2020. Why not?

The other night I took a stroll as the sun was setting to our local Starbucks for some hot cocoa. I've done a lot of walking to a lot of Starbucks this year, in-between all of the hours I spent not working or somewhat working from home. What a wild ride!

The sunset was nice at least, as clouds had been passing through the area, offering a nice canvas to reflect and define the rays of light as the colors slid from orange to pink to blue and violet, with every shade in between. And then, darkness. I actually started out a little late, so it was dark well before I made it to my cocoa destination.

But I made it to the Natomas Crossing Starbucks, one of three within reasonable walking distance of my home base apartment. And honestly it's the nicest and friendliest one in the area. They also make their cocoa somehow taste better. More...chocolatey. As if they added, well, more chocolate. In any case, I think I'll need to go to this one more often. That almost sounds like a resolution...but it's not. Just a promise to myself to acquire the best cocoa possible.

And tomorrow is New Year's Eve, and to treat myself and celebrate the fact that I survived this year relatively unscathed, I'm taking a little road trip up the hill to the Auburn area to explore some new hiking areas. New to me, that is. This one should be a 6.5 mile loop trail around Sugar Pine Peak, assuming I can find it okay. Adventure!

And that will round out 2020. I might watch a movie on Disney Plus tomorrow night, make some popcorn, drink some alcohol. I did in fact buy some Mike's Hard Strawberry Lemonade. Party on! That's about as much partying as I do on New Year's. Or any other day, really. Wild man! On Friday morning we will all awake into a new year, with new dreams and new possibilities, steeped in the reality that it's really not much different than the day before. Or the day before that. Or the day before that. And so on. 

Happy New Year! Or whatever.