In America, It's 4th of July Somewhere.

Why A Duck Is Better Than A Pedometer Reading

Astral flights around a mall aren't the most interesting, except when I spot a 50-something jogger huff and puff and then decide to park it in front of the J.C. Penney. She was messing with her i-Pod, her Blackberry, her pedometer and her shoestrings -- looking totally frustrated until she saw a duck approach.

You see, this J.C. Penney store and its striped concrete skirt bumped up to a retention pond populated by ducks and a few errant seagulls. Being only a whisker past 7 a.m., there were no shoppers around -- just some loud belly-rumblings from webbed-feet quackers hoping for tidbits of French toast or French fries.

This particular duck was not to be denied. It seemed to cock its head when it heard Eddie Vedder's voice float out of the i-Pod's earbuds...something about Society....and then Alison Krauss singing Down To The River To Pray (river, retention pond -- I don't think it'd matter much to Alison). 

Like I said, the jogger just sort of parked it right there on the grass, folded her arms around her knees and stared back at the duck. I heard her thinking about how she'd bring some bread next time as a way of saying thanks -- thanks because a moment like this was way better than a pedometer reading could ever be.

But at least she snapped a picture. It will never make it on the cover of National Geographic. But she left with a memory of the morning.

Being Delicate At The Deli.

I could not believe this bejeweled woman who waltzed into the local deli and asked for two pints of salad sans the please. When the Hispanic server scooped only one scoop from the wrong deli bowl, the woman drawled, “Shall we try this again? O-n-e, and now t-w-o.” HQ Cat thinks she should watch more of the national news and get her perspectives right. 

It's Been One of Those Springs...

Been out of the loop for a while, but I DO have reasons! Glad to be back.

Being Rich For A Day Is Long Enough, Thank You.

I admit, I’m of those cats who sleeps in what I call a “Tower of Power” – a six-foot, two-story, beige-carpeted condo with a scratchpad serving as a ground-level garage. When I’m snoozing on the top level, I feel like I’m in command of everything – the feline equivalent of being Queen of the Mountain where everyone has to play by my rules.

But last night I drifted off early and dreamed that I won the lottery, and that my well-worn sleeping space had transformed into a luxuriant magic carpet glowing in shades of apricot and tangerines. It reminded me of what I read in the morning paper -- that despite the soft economy, my local kingdom is “awash with the wealthy” who have discretionary funds to buy yachts and second homes.

I don’t begrudge the affluent. But I was really glad to wake up in my own comfortable bed.

Smart Phone Glam Puss

Sorry, but this is beyond compare, if I do say so myself. Taken after a night at my favorite spot, The Fish House (of course).

Can't Believe I Haven't Seen This Before.

I can't get this message or music out of my mind. Come see. http://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=Hzgzim5m7oU&vq=medium

HQ Cat