Frost

I participated in an American fall ritual on Friday night -- a high school football game. I wanted to see Dave's band in action, so I zipped out to New Jersey on the train, caught a cab to the school, got a couple of cheese pizza slices at the concession stand and settled into a spot on the aluminum bleachers overlooking the field. The night was chilly, and in fact grew steadily colder. I was wearing a shirt, sweater and jacket and a stocking cap -- and pants of course -- but pretty soon I was chilled to the bone. I thought, I'm going to be like William Henry Harrison. I'll be dead by Monday.

I joined the game in the middle of the first quarter. The referees kept stopping the clock during the second quarter, which was making me crazy because I was so uncomfortable, but finally we got to the half-time action. The band did a good job with field movements, though as I told Dave, I couldn't hear them very well. I don't think they're loud enough.

I didn't stick around for the rest of the game. Instead, I came back to Dave's and got warm. I have never been so happy to come inside.





The next morning, when I took the dogs out for their walk, the field next door was covered with frost. Surprisingly the dogs didn't seem to mind it, though I'm sure it must have numbed their little footpads.

From Fleaball to Cranky Cat

I always find that when a pet dies, it helps to write an obituary of sorts. So let me tell you a little about Armenia.

When I got Armenia in October 1995, she was tiny enough to fit inside my shoe (above), and she was riddled with fleas. She and her three litter-mates were found in a cardboard box by a former colleague of mine at the St. Petersburg Times. The colleague gladly let me take Armenia home.

I was living in Venice, Fla., at the time. I took Armenia to the vet, who sold me a can of flea spray. I treated Armenia several times; she was so tiny the spray made her woozy, but it did kill all the fleas.



Armenia was always the "second cat" to Howard, who was already seven at the time. I named Armenia to go with Howard, because Howard and Armenia are the two main streets through the Tampa neighborhood where I'd lived just a few years before.

Armenia was part Manx, which is why she didn't have a tail. Sometimes people looked at me accusingly as if I'd amputated it, but I swear, she came that way.



Armenia was always feisty and independent. But she loved Howard, and Howard -- who had a much more generous disposition -- loved her right back. Armenia seemed bereft after Howard died in 2004.



I eventually tried to get another kitten for Armenia to play with, but she would have none of it. She rebelled powerfully against the intruder -- she stopped using the litter box and essentially had a nervous breakdown. I had to give the kitten back to its previous owner, who fortunately had asked me to return it anyway. I didn't try again to find a companion for Armenia.



She was playful, in her feisty way. She loved paper and boxes and readily chased paper balls I threw across the floor.



And as I mentioned yesterday, she loved the heater -- her favorite place in my apartment.


She also loved to be with me, wherever I was. She'd lie on my chest or next to me as I worked on the computer.

I'm doing OK with this loss, surprisingly. When Howard died, I was a basket case, but with Armenia I just don't feel the same devastation. Not to diminish her, but she was always the "second cat," even when she was the only one. It was partly her personality, and partly just her place in the pride. (Any owner of multiple pets who's honest will admit they love their animals in different ways, and maybe even to different degrees.)

My only concern remains that she died by herself -- and died at a time when my own life is changing so dramatically, and I'm staying away from home more. I hope she didn't think I was leaving her behind or deserting her. I hope she didn't die sad.*

*When I told a friend of this fear, she said, "Cats don't die of depression, Steve. They're way too self-involved for that."

RIP Armenia, 1995-2009

Well, you really never know what's coming around the corner, do you?

I have a little cold brewing so I left work early yesterday, having spent the previous night in New Jersey. I got to my apartment about 4:30 p.m. When I unlocked the door, Armenia wasn't there to meet me.

I came inside and saw her lying on her side at the foot of the bed. From a distance she looked like she might be asleep, except that she didn't move as I approached. I bent down to touch her, and she was cold and stiff.

It's very strange to touch an animal you know to be warm and soft and cuddly, and instead feel that.

I called Dave and left a long, bewildered message, and then called the vet. I knew I had to get Armenia's body to his office before it closed, or I'd be sleeping with a dead cat all night. I carried her over right away and left her to be cremated.

Now, I'm just in a state of shock. Armenia wasn't young, and she had her share of health problems -- weak kidneys, for example. But she seemed fine on Wednesday morning, when she ate her Fancy Feast as usual and lay purring on my chest as I read. I never, ever expected her to literally drop dead.

My feelings are kind of complicated. I'm not quite sad, though maybe that will come. Armenia and I always had a complex relationship. She was not a warm-hearted cat, and in fact was quite feisty -- she bit me more than once when I did something she didn't like, such as comb her fur. She was almost universally disliked by my friends, who were the targets of her hissing, spitting and cold glares.

But the truth is, she was just insecure. She loved me, she really did. She wasted no opportunity to lie on my chest, and in fact could be quite insistent and annoying about it, regardless of what else I was trying to do at the time. She was a kitten masquerading as a tiger.

I'm happy that she died here at home, and didn't have to endure her last moments in a cold vet's office. She died near the heater where she loved to lie all winter, soaking up warmth.

I'm sorry, though, that she died alone. It seems to have happened quite suddenly and I don't think I could have stopped it. And I'm not sure she'd have wanted me here -- animals instinctively go off by themselves to die, and often seem to prefer it that way. Still, I wish I'd been around.

My apartment now seems very empty.

(Photo: The last picture I took of Armenia, from Monday night. She's annoyed at the flash.)

About Gay Marriage

I’ve been thinking about the Maine vote repealing a law allowing gay marriage.

As some of you know, I've always been pretty moderate on this issue. I’d like to be able to get married, but the fact that I can’t doesn’t change the degree of love I share with my partner. The most important thing is still there, no matter what.

That said, I do think the government must treat gay and straight couples the same legally. The resulting arrangement doesn’t have to be called marriage. Civil unions, partnerships, whatever – that’s all fine with me. For example, I’d be happy if we worked on the federal level to eliminate the tax burden on gay couples who share health insurance, or if we mandated hospital visitation rights for gay partners. I can do without "marriage," per se.

I can respect the fact that some people believe marriage to be a religious sacrament, and they’re not ready to extend it to gay relationships. I want to be sensitive to religious differences and make room for that hesitation.

(It then becomes legitimate to ask whether government should be sanctioning an act with fundamentally religious underpinnings. Perhaps government shouldn’t “marry” people at all – perhaps that’s the role of the church, and government should recognize only partnerships, gay and straight.)

However, I think the hesitation of opponents is rooted mostly in fear. Churches and the political right have waged a battle of disinformation with the American public. They’ve told voters that if gay marriage passes, their children will be indoctrinated and society will fall apart. As absurd as it sounds, it’s been a very effective message. No matter how progressive they may feel themselves to be, few parents want their children to be gay, and they’ll take steps to prevent it if they believe they can. I think that’s what we’ve been seeing at the ballot box.

If I could tell the voters of this country one thing, it would be this: “Your children will not choose to be gay because there’s gay marriage. But if you do have a gay child, he or she may lead a happier, more secure life because marriage will be possible. Your straight kids won’t care one way or another.”

As for God, well, I think he or she would approve wholeheartedly of gay marriage. But as I said, if people aren’t willing to go there yet, I can work with that. Just don’t sock me in my pocketbook or prevent me from visiting my partner in the hospital. Recognize that my partnership is the legal equivalent of a marriage, if not identical according to your social and religious definition.

There are people who think, justifiably, that "separate but equal" is fundamentally unequal. They're right. But it's also better to move ahead incrementally than backslide because we're demanding more than people are ready to give. Eventually, we'll get there -- I have no doubt.

(Photo: Tables and chairs on Broadway in front of Macy's, Herald Square, Nov. 2009)

Night

Here's another effort with my new camera. I'm excited to be able to shoot at night, now. Even though I don't have a tripod, I found that I could hold the camera still enough to make this photo.

I voted yesterday, which is always an experience in New York. We use these incredibly clunky, prehistoric voting booths with levers and curtains. I'm never one hundred percent sure when I walk away that my vote was really recorded, but I guess I have to have faith in the system! (And isn't it interesting that places with electoral controversies in recent years all had newer forms of voting technology?)

New Camera

As I wandered the field next to Dave's apartment complex on Sunday, I experimented with various settings on my fab new camera. I was struck by how different a shot could look by hitting just a button or two. For example, above is without the flash, and below is with.


Granted, in this case, my old camera could have taken similar shots. But the image quality is definitely better now (these are low-res versions). I also love the fact that this camera doesn't telescope my images so severely that the moon appears like a little pinprick -- that's how it always looked in pictures with my old camera. This one preserves the proper perspective.

I am going to have SO MUCH FUN with this camera! I wish I had more hours of daylight -- it's a drag that we've just switched off Daylight Saving Time. I'll have to go out and shoot on my lunch hour!

Birthday!

Thanks to Dave, this has been an AMAZING birthday weekend!

My actual 43rd birthday, for those of you who don't know, is today. But we celebrated yesterday with a meal that lasted pretty much all afternoon and evening -- a marathon of cooking and eating from about 2 p.m. until 9 p.m. Dave carefully planned the menu -- he's been talking about it for weeks -- and we went to Wegman's around noon to buy ingredients. We alternately prepared and ate each dish, interspersed with some TV and music.

First we had the salad above: shaved fennel and grapefruit with dill and walnuts, in a citrus dressing. It was crisp, cool and pleasantly acidic. (By the way, you can click on any of these photos for a much bigger, more detailed version.)


Then came the second course, a savory creme brulee with Roquefort cheese and leeks. The leeks stood out really well against the taste of the blue cheese.


Third came garlic-stuffed squid hoods in a white wine and vegetable reduction. We stuffed peeled garlic cloves in the squid and sewed them shut with butcher's twine, and simmered them in the sauce. The sweet cooked garlic and the briny squid set each other off well.


The main course was lavender-rubbed duck breast, and quinoa with asparagus and tomato. (We were going to use a grain called faro but couldn't find any at the store.) The duck was rich and tender, and the lavender gave it a pleasantly interesting aroma.


Finally, for dessert, we had Grand Marnier souffle. Look how tall and fluffy that thing is!

This was definitely a landmark meal for me. Dave said he liked the salad and the souffle best, but I loved it all. And to top it all off, Dave got me a NEW CAMERA for my birthday -- a Canon Digital Rebel SLR. I was absolutely floored. This is a camera I desperately wanted but couldn't bring myself to buy! How did he know?

(I have the best boyfriend in the world. In fact, "boyfriend" is a totally inadequate word for what Dave means to me. We call each other partners, and that's what it really feels like. So, yeah, I have the best partner in the world!)

This all followed a fun but busy weekend. On Friday we watched "Top Chef" and "Project Runway," both of which I love. Dave had rehearsal on Saturday so I just stayed in and did some stuff around the house and on my computer. Then, on Halloween night, we met up with our friend Adam in New Hope, Pa., to see "The Rocky Horror Show" at a playhouse there. It was a great production -- especially for those of us who know how to Time Warp!