3 Down, 9 to Go

Tonight, I made my first attempt at trapping feral cats. So far, I've caught three. It was surprisingly easy, canned tuna being the bait I used. I'm waiting to snare one more, the fourth trap standing alone in the backyard, its cage door propped open and poised for snapping shut.

The cats are suspicious, I guess, especially the older ones.

The three I've trapped so far are from the same litter as our new six-month-old kitten, Sabina. Perhaps they are more naive and easier to catch when they're still very young. Resting quietly under towel cage covers right now are Lucie, Brownie, and Callie. There's one last sibling to trap from their litter: Fluffy.

Even if I don't catch a fourth tonight, it's still a good start. The trapped kittens, per instructions, are not to have any food and water after midnight before I bring them in for free neutering tomorrow. In the morning I will drive the caged kitties to the FixNation clinic, where volunteer veterinarians will spay or neuter them for free. I'll pick them up after work and hold them overnight before releasing them back into our backyard.

The older cats were hovering earlier, attracted almost immediately by the scent of oily canned tuna. They circled the cage traps and sniffed and sniffed. But they weren't about to give in to temptation as easily as the younger felines.

After tomorrow's trip, I am due to go back on Sunday with another batch of ferals to fix. I'm already worried that the other cats are going to be too clever and hard to catch. During my training session at FixNation, I was told that Kentucky Fried Chicken usually does the trick for the more hard-to-trap ferals.

It's a good thing Colonel Sanders is only a half mile away!

A Big One

Tommy J. was one of the more fabulous Disney boys in the parade department.

In the 80's . . .

He was tall, Black, and effeminate. He usually got the better dance parts, such as Court Dancer for the float of Sleeping Beauty's castle in the Christmas parade.
He was also handsome. After serving time in the Mouse House he went to Europe to work as a fashion model. I remember spotting him in a magazine ad for Oak Tree, a men's clothing store.

I was in the backstage cafeteria for a lunch break one day, as were some of the parade dancers. One of the girls got in line and asked for a baked potato.

"Do you want a big one or a little one?" the woman behind the counter asked her.

The pretty parade performer answered just as Tommy stepped into the cafeteria. "I want a big one!"

"Honey," Tommy said, missing not a beat, "We all want a big one."

Fixing the Nation, One Cat at a Time

We have a problem, a cat problem. We have become the Crazy Cat Ladies on the block, thanks to the dozen or so feral felines that have made our backyard and front yard their outdoor home. Thank goodness we're tucked away on a cul de sac, at least.

Yes, I feed them. And I provide fresh water. Every day.

"Don't start," I had told Domestic Partner a couple of years ago. He was putting some of Cleo's dry kibble into a Styrofoam party bowl outside.

"It's just a little," he protested. "I feel sorry for the kitty - she's so cute."

Just a little. "That's how it starts," I replied.

Flash forward to 2010. Cleo disappeared a year ago, never came back. We knew it was a risk, allowing him to be an outdoor cat. Our new kitten, Sabina, is almost full grown. The runt of the litter (and abandoned by Backyard Mama cat), she and her four siblings are about five months old, now. Her sisters and brothers - Brownie, Callie, Fluffy, and Lucy - stay close to the house, in the backyard. They are old enough to no longer need Backyard Mama Cat's care or milk, but we still see her, too.

Siamese cat and Gimpy cat play with the babies and snuggle with them at night. I see them in the morning sometimes, clumped together under the bush by the garbage cans, surviving another chilly night in one big, multi-colored fur heap.

I know: Don't start naming them. That just exacerbates the problem by allowing me to get emotionally attached, even if only a little.

We like having the cats around but they are messy. Domestic Partner replaced the front lawn's grass with pebbles and palm trees. The backyard has been transformed into a large square beach of gravel. On either side of the beach are beds of mulch that used to be one of the trees in our backyard.

It's one giant kitty litter box.

And our dogs eat the cat poop. Sometimes Moxie pug has worms in her own poop, which makes her ravenously hungry. It's easy to fix with two or three doses of de-worming powder added to her food. But there's nothing to stop the dogs from eating more cat poop during the day while we're at work.

So, it's a problem.

Domestic Partner has run out of patience. The gardening of both the back and front yards is his hobby, his relaxation on the weekends. And he is over the cat poop. He has been after me to do something about the cat population for a while.

I could stop feeding them, but I feel guilty about cutting off the food and water supplies after making all current cats dependent since birth. I called our local animal shelter to see if they could refer me to a trap-and-release program that would spay and neuter feral cats. They referred me to Fix Nation, a Los Angeles based non-profit group that provides free services in their Trap-Neuter-Release program.

They seem like an excellent group. They care about the welfare of strays and feral cats. They are very particular about using humane traps. They are specific about using humane carriers and making sure the carrier is covered by a towel when a frightened cat is being transported. And they ask that you have a quiet laundry room or bathroom that you can hold the cat in, post-operation, before releasing it back into the neighborhood.

It will take some work. First there is an application to fill out and submit. Once approved, the organization is willing to lend out traps if you don't have any (I don't). But I have to do the trapping myself, and drive the imprisoned kitties to Fix Nation's location. And not in the back of a truck or an open air vehicle, as also specified in their application. And if I trap more than one cat at a time, I must be willing to borrow/use a carrier for each individual captive.

It seems a bit daunting, but I must halt the cycle of two new litters a year, even if I have to trap and transport one cat at a time. Already, I saw Front Yard Mama Cat this weekend, surrounded by Siamese cat (her offspring) and three other males. Gimpy cat was on her back, the scruff of Mama's neck between his teeth.

And Tuxedo cat, the Biggest Male that only returns to our yard when someone is in heat, has been yowling around outside, again. We are very familiar with his yowl. It's a tentative and meek cry, a mismatch to his huge tom cat size. It's his gentle way of announcing, "I need me some kitty lovin'!"

I hope I can trap him, as well as Gimpy cat and the two Mama cats. Wish me luck!

Pee Wee Herman, 2010

Remember my Bestest Gurlfren', Eddie Spaghetti? (AKA Edwina Bettina). Yes, the same "Eddie of the Eighties" as in the post right before this one. Well, he got tickets to the live stage show revival of "The Pee Wee Herman Show," and he invited me to come with him!

I'm the luckiest boy in the world, as Pee Wee would say!

I absolutely loved it. The show was fabulous and I laughed my ass off. The set itself, which closely resembled the T.V. series' version, was candy-colored and overly detailed enough to make me kind of wish I smoked pot. All of the classic puppets that die hard Pee Wee fans would expect were on stage: Globey the talking globe, Ptery the pterodactyl, the aquarium fish, the Greek chorus of windowsill flowers, and the talking window who repeatedly announces "Someone's coming." And of course, holding genteel court almost center stage, like a pastel plush throne, was Chairy, batting her eyelashes and waving her arms. It looked like she was sweetly hugging Pee Wee every time he sat down.

As for the non-puppet characters, a few of the original cast members, both from the early eighties stage show and the ensuing T.V. series, reprised their roles, including Miss Yvonne, Mailman Mike, and Jambi the Genie! Miss Yvonne, "the prettiest girl in Puppet Land," must be as old as my retired aunt by now, but she looked great (under the lights)!

One conspicuously absent cast member from the T.V. series was Laurence Fishburne, who had originated the T.V. role of Cowboy Curtis. Phil LaMarr (of Mad TV fame) was an apt replacement, especially in the budding romance scenes with Miss Yvonne. I was mesmerized by Cowboy Curtis's costume, all Barbie pinks and grape Kool-Aid purples. His horse, Ginger, even had a matching pink mane.

The original cast had included Phil Hartman's character, Kap'n Karl, a barnacle-crusty sailor who was Miss Yvonne's original crush. It seemed to be a deliberate choice not to cast a replacement for Kap'n Karl, out of respect for the late Mr. Hartman. It is bittersweet, even if just for Pee Wee's fans, that he is not around for this revival.

And what about Pee Wee, AKA Paul Reubens, himself? He looked amazing! Yes, he probably spackles on about eighteen layers of pancake before going on stage. And yes, the stage lights were practically bright enough to require SPF protection, but I was still impressed with how young the actor looks - how original-Pee-Wee-Herman he still looks - not like Bob Denver still dressed up as Gilligan in the last decade or so. I was particularly impressed with how pencil-geek-thin the actor looked in costume. According to a recent interview in Details magazine, Mr. Reubens is closer to age 60 than he is 55!

And Pee Wee still maintains his childlike innocence and energy. The show, as fans remember, is still fast-paced and ever-changing, as Pee Wee runs from talking on his tin can phones, to answering the door to welcome various guests, to adding to his tin foil ball - which has grown to the size of that boulder in the Indiana Jones movie!

*wink*

The show's audience consisted exclusively of adults, which surprised me a little. I looked around and I couldn't find any kids in the theater seats. As if to make up for it, though, there were quite a few celebrity sightings, presumably because we had attended on a press night. I got to meet Monica Horan from 'Everybody Loves Raymond' and tell her I thought she made the character Amy very funny. I was thrilled to recognize Toni Basil sitting in front of us, who was kind enough to confirm that she is still choreographing for Bette Midler's live stage shows (I had to bite my tongue from singing a refrain of 'Oh, Mickey, your so fine you blow my mind HEY, MICKEY!' - how many times must she have heard that from complete strangers in the last twenty-seven years?).

We saw actress Debi Mazar, whose beauty is as fierce in real life as it is on screen. Most surprising of all was seeing David Hasselhoff in attendance. He looked handsome and healthy. Age has not deteriorated him (a friend suggested that a recent stint in rehab may have something to do with Mr. Hasselhoff's current healthy glow).

But the cherry on top of an already fabulous evening for me was getting to meet my idol (one of), comedienne Judy Tenuta. Yes, the self-proclaimed Petite Flower, Giver Goddess, Fashion Plate Saint. She even offered to autograph my Pee Wee program. Above her signature she wrote one of her trademark lines: "It could happen!" And it really did, it truly happened! I have written proof.

Eddie always takes me to the best shows. Because of him, I also worship the goddess Varla Jean Merman. It is because of Eddie and his connections that we had excellent seats to "Edward Scissorhands" the ballet, Matthew Bourne's adaptation. True, most of the shows we attend together consist of very campy humor - which makes the Pee Wee Herman Show such a perfect shared experience to add to our ever growing list.

And - as I always remind Edwina Bettina - if it weren't for him I would never get out as much, here in the Los Angeles area, and I wouldn't never get no cultcha'.

Eddie of the Eighties

I am truly privileged to know Edweirdo, AKA Miss Eddie Spaghetti, in this lifetime. He's the kind of friend who will greet me with an accusatory "Hooker!" and I know he means it as a compliment. Eddie was the one to teach me the weapon dance back in the 80's. He also gave me and BFF Kathy a private drag performance, once.

"Wait here," he instructed during a brief stop at his home in Orange County. His parents weren't home and neither was his sister. Kathy and I waited in the living room as we heard rustling noises coming from the hallway's coat closet. "Okay, here I come!"

Without a wig or a trace of make up, Eddie came out in a pastel peach prom dress. On his feet were high heeled pumps the color of strawberry licorice. And they fit.

Eddie pressed 'play' on the stereo's cassette tape player and did a perfect lip sync to Annie Lennox's vocals. "I need a man!" Annie roared as Eddie improvised dance moves that flawlessly matched both vocals and electronic synthesizer beats. He strutted about in the bright red heels, never losing his balance.

"That was really nice of Eddie," Kathy commented later. "I'm sure he doesn't do that for just anyone."

I'm glad Kathy pointed that out to me. By then, I was used to Eddie's unique and spastic sense of humor, so I had just laughed like I did at almost everything he did and said. But it was considerate of him. It was, as Eddie usually described things with a sarcastic screech, "Special!"

I can't believe he was able to fit into his sister's prom dresses, back then. I still don't forgive him, though, for clashing bright red pumps with a pastel colored dress.

Hooker!

Donna Doesn't Dance

The following lyrics were written in 1984, based on Actual Persons and Real Life Events:

My name is Brent, I'm in the high school band (doo doo doo doo!)
I play percussion so I have to stand (doo doo doo doo!)
But when I stand up I can see the chicks (doo doo doo doo!)
Then I see Donna and on her my gaze I fiiiiiiiiiix

Donna is a nice girl but she can be cool (doo doo!)
Her morals I don't mind except for just one rule (doo doo!)
I think I'd like to ask her to the high school prom (doo doo!)
But if we go together I'm afraid our love would booooooomb

Because:
Oh! Oh! Oh! Donna doesn't dance
Oh! Oh! Oh! We'll never have romance
Uh-oh-oh! She's got me in a trance
Oh! Oh! Oh! Donna doesn't daaaaaaaance

I know a boy like Donna and it's such a shame (doo doo!)
He's Kathy's boyfriend Reevey and they look the same (doo doo!)
He'd never dance with Kathy in a million weeks (doo doo!)
I'll think I'll go with Kathy and the other band geeeeeeeeeks

Because:
Oh! Oh! Oh! Donna doesn't dance
Whoa, oh, oh, she'll never take the chance
No, Donna, no, don't look at me askance
Oh! Oh! Oh! Donna doesn't daaaaaaaaaance

Oh, Donna, please, won't you ever dance?
Don't you know our love it would enhance?
Bo-ho-ho! Why take such a stance? (bo?)
Oh! Oh! Oh! Donna doesn't daaaaaaaaance

(Oingo-Boingo-esque guitar solo)

Oh-oo-oh-oo, Donna
Someday we are gonna
Dance together, Donna
Just like Once Upon a
Time-Flora-and-Fauna
We'll sit in the sauna
And we'll play 'pirahna'
Don't you know I wanna
Dance with you please, Donna

Donna ... Donna ... dance, dance, DANCE! Please, Donna?

My gratitude to the band geeks of the Blue Diamond Brigade at Norco High: Brent, Kathy, and Yariv. And of course, special thanks to Donna B. without whom these lyrics would never have been written

Reunited, and it Feels So Good

I blame facebook. Being middle aged seems to be defined by the growing number of reunions held and attended, at least for me. One of my high school friends thinks that facebook itself is a constant, ongoing reunion.

Even before facebook put me back in touch with literally hundreds of people from my past, I went to an amazing Disney Entertainment reunion a few years ago. It was like dying and going to heaven when I walked into the event. I felt like I was seeing actual celebrities - so many people that were famous (and infamous!) in our own little backstage bubble of our theme park years in the mid-eighties. There were Character Department friends, and parade dancers, and float drivers, wardrobe and wig people, union dancer-singers from the stage shows, not to mention various stage managers, directors, and choreographers.

It was a surreal evening, and unforgettable.

It was after that first Disney reunion that facebook became a catalyst for others. Earlier this year I had a memorable week in England with the dancers from my first cruise ship job, thanks in part to facebook reuniting us - yet again - online. And it's thanks to facebook that I will soon be seeing a dear group of friends I used to perform with in a dinner theater (in the photo above). The social networking site has also reconnected many of the performers that had worked together at the Ocean Dome theme park in Japan. Our reunion is slated for next July.

Why do I enjoy attending these reunions so much? What makes everyone else so mutually enthusiastic about showing up? We certainly weren't happy all of the time while working with each other. Many of us were homesick when we were away on a cruise ship or in Japan. Sometimes, conflicts would flare up among cast members, off stage and in the dressing room. Oh, the drama!

But it's no coincidence that my favorite reunions are all from performing days (I don't even attend my high school reunions, anymore). There was always music, and I associate the good times with very specific songs. With Disney, of course, there were the parades. I can now relive the 30th Anniversary parade or the Blast to the Past parade via youtube. When I think about cruise ship days, I think about dancing in such favorite numbers as "This Joint is Jumping" and "Hot! Hot! Hot!" Dancing behind Donna Kay as she sang "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy" is one of the stand out memories from our dinner theater revues.

Hearing the music, even when just playing back the tapes of my memories in my mind, brings back a lot, both the good and the bad. We were young, and sometimes we made foolish choices. But we could escape whatever was going on in our lives at the moment, while on stage, and for a few minutes we were able to be genuinely happy.

There was often an endorphin rush for me, physically and emotionally, while I was singing and dancing in a dinner theater, or on board a ship, or in Japan. And it is for that specific reason I attend these reunions and why I look forward to the next one. To recall and recapture those happy feelings with friends, and to laugh over memories we haven't thought about in years - that's a pretty good resource to have in life.

(Special thanks to Miss JAM for encouraging to blog about this topic.)