Etiquette & superstition: personal mobility issues

I was wanting to do an etiquette & superstition post about handicapped restroom stalls, but 1) there don’t seem to be any superstitions related to that, and 2) Larry David seems to be the only person that agrees with me that it’s okay for a fully-abled person to use the handicapped restroom stall. Well, maybe Larry David isn’t the only one who says it’s okay, but I still can’t find any disabled people giving the green light on that point. I give up.

ETIQUETTE: When describing a person with limited physical capabilities, do not use the word “handicapped.” “Handicap” is a sporting/gambling term referring to methods used to equalizing the playing field. The phrases “handicap stall” and “handicap parking space” are still generally accepted, however. You could make the point that this is because the handrails and extra clearance room “handicap” (in the oldest sense, referring to money added to the lesser object in the barter game) the space in order to make it equal in value to a disabled person as a regular space is to a fully-abled person, but the reality is that it would just take a lot of time and money to replace all those signs. If we’re trying to balance the budget by complaining that teachers make too much money, we’re probably not going to change those signs any time soon.

SUPERSTITION: If you take a nail from a coffin and hammer it into someone’s footprint, you will make that person lame for as long as the nail stays in the footprint. This also works in hunting, but you hammer the nail into the poop of the animal you are tracking in order to slow them down.

Rest in peace

Paul Amin Joaquin Murrietta Herndon 1989 – 2008

Pants Cat

I took my cat Joaquin to the vet this morning because not only has he not been grooming, but lately he’s been rather dramatically incontinent. This is kind of a gross combination, even by Joaquin’s standards. He made it to the vet with no problems, but as soon as the animal tech picked him up to weigh him (a whopping 4 pounds, 11 ounces), he peed all over the place (Joaquin, not the tech). And then he started in with some loose Number Two. I was mortified but both the vet and the tech seemed pretty unfazed. The vet gave him a little medicine and shaved Joaquin’s bottom, and is doing some blood tests, but the preliminary diagnosis was “He is a thousand years old.”

So, now I have some diarrhea medicine for him, and I’m supposed to give him warm Gatorade from time to time. I wish I could just get him to re-toilet train, but I don’t think that’s going to work. The vet gave me a nice speech about the circle of life and such, and said that this behavior is normal for a cat this age, and that I’ve done a good job by him. I am looking into cat diapers, and I guess there’s not much I can do beyond that. Take it easy, Mr. J. I’m rooting for you.

Thanks for the cartoon, Tori.

The Skeleton Dance

This week’s cartoon is dedicated to my cat Joaquin, who I believe is going to be a skeleton for Halloween if he keeps being such a picky eater. Cut it out, Joaquin. Skeletons don’t like cats:

Flat of the Edmund Fitzgerald

Scott Avenue at Echo Park Blvd., Los Angeles:

(click on the photo above for musical accompaniment)

The legend lives on from the Gold Room on down
of the neighborhood called “Gitche Gumee.”
The street, it is said, never gives up her dead
when the paddle boats rest for the season.
For a month to month lease I sold my young niece
to the owners of Fashion of Echo.
The apartment was mine, so I bought me some wine
at the good liquor store House of Spirits.

The flat was the pride of the so-called East Side;
it looked like the houseboat on Quincy.
As duplexes go, it was bigger than most
and the landlord would pay gas and water.
The strict no pet clause, well, it gave me some pause
but we shook hands and I took the keys.
And later that night when my telephone rang,
could it be a cat howl he’d been hearin’?

My ancient feline made a tattle-tale sound
he knocked over his food dish and water.
And my landlord knew, as yes, I did too
’twas the end of my sweet tenancy.
I packed up my things and I gave back the keys,
and said, “Sir, it’s bin good t’know ya!”
I cursed my old cat and then that was that
I was out of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Ruler of heroes

I wish I could introduce Xerxes to Joaquin. That would be a thing to see. I’m thinking we could all go adventuring in Mongolia, living in a yurt made from cat hair felt. Maybe I’m thinking too hard right now.

I also wish I had found this pet notice myself, but that honor goes to sugarfreak on flickr. Thanks, sugarfreak.

Big break

I’m thinking about taking Joaquin to this audition found (by defamer) on craigslist:

CASTING Hamster for short film

I am looking for a hamster.

I know I could buy one, but then I would own it. So , I was hoping to just rent one for 50 bucks for a couple hours.

The Hamster will be work in a studio shoot on a greenscreen. He is playing Rocky, the captain of a boat.

please send a picture

We are shooting for a couple hours on saturday, that is this coming saturday the 28th in Hollywood.

I know Joaquin is technically a cat, but with all his boating experience, I think he’s a shoo-in for the part.

The rug maker

Some of you may have been wondering what my cat Joaquin has been up to since he was deposed retired as Minister of Fancy Notions Weights & Measures. Has he been resting? Has he been glowering in his soup and yelling at random passers-by? Well yes, he has been doing all of those things, but he has also taken up a new hobby: rug making. He has been practicing his felting skills for some time now, but this weekend he finally completed his first full piece:

As you can see, it is a tribute to Australia:

For those curious about the piece, yes, it is one piece and not merely a clump of random hair. Joaquin fashioned it on his back, as a sort of shell or plate of armor. When he was finished, he gave a signal to Benny to remove it, and voila:

A luxurious new rug. Well done, Joaquin! I’m excited to see what you will make in the days to come.

Fancy notions #6

Boy, I feel sillier than a pig wearing galoshes. Turns out that guy who predicted the big nuclear war today is just some nutcase who changes the date of the impending apocalypse whenever it doesn’t happen: “I said June 12, 2008? Oh, geez; I meant 2009. Sorry.” His nuclear baby story is way past its due date at this point. So, sorry if I worried anybody.

Now, of course, I have all of these nuclear holocaust survival supplies lying around cluttering up the house, so I would like to offer some of them to you as today’s Fancy Notions selection:

It’s a collection of white buttons in various sizes and styles, and the buttons fit nicely into a white vinyl Barbie backpack. Buttons can be very important after a disaster; you never know things like this until it is too late. The backpack snaps closed for added security.

I have included a quarter for perspective* in the photo, but you do not get the quarter; just the backpack full of buttons. For those unfamiliar with how this works, if you are reading this and would like the backpack of buttons for yourself, please email me at herndonofsunnyvale(at)gmail.com. The button backpack will go to the first person who writes in with “fancy notions” in the subject line.

*This is a new perspective quarter. After much debate and negotiation, it was decided that the previous perspective dime should be given to former Minister of Fancy Notions Weights & Measures Joaquin as a golden parachute. All executives who are caught misappropriating funds these days seem to get a severance package of some sort, so I suppose it’s only fair.

Etiquette & superstition: fire

A recent etiquette & superstition post of mine was slightly misquoted on another site, implying that I pulled a quote from a Vogue book of behavior recommending the imprisonment of cats on aquatic vessels. As I have no wish to attract the ire of Conde Nast Publications, allow me to point out that the cat-in-a-cupboard tip was the superstition portion of my post, and the etiquette tip was paraphrased from the Vogue book, not a direct quote. If I use a direct quote, I will always use quotation marks.

And lo, here is a direct quote for today’s etiquette tip, from Mark Twain‘s notes for a book on manners. As this tip is courtesy of the great Mark Twain, today’s entry may be historic for this site in that the etiquette tip is far superior to the accompanying bit of superstition. It’s merely an excerpt of his recommended protocol; for the full text, please visit The Gentlemen’s Page:

ETIQUETTE: “Form of Tender of Rescue from Strange Young Gentleman to Strange Young Lady at a Fire: ‘Although through the fiat of a cruel fate, I have been debarred the gracious privilege of your acquaintance, permit me, Miss [here insert name if known], the inestimable honor of offering you the aid of a true and loyal arm against the fiery doom which now o’ershadows you with its crimson wing’ [this form to be memorized, and practiced in private].

“Should she accept, the young gentleman would offer his arm–bowing, and observing ‘Permit me’–and so escort her to the fire escape and deposit her in it (being careful, if she have no clothes but her night dress, not to seem to notice the irregularity). No form of leave-taking is permissible, further than a formal bow, accompanied by a barely perceptible smile of deferential gratitude for the favor which the young lady has accorded–this smile to be completed at the moment the fire escape starts to slide down, then the features to be recomposed instantly.”

SUPERSTITION: Blue flames in a hearth fire indicate the presence of ghosts, specifically the corracha cagalt. These spirits portend bad weather approaching.