Relative Something

I would love to tell you what it is that needs to be heard around the world to solve the economic slump/climate change/obesity epidemic/terror threat/bad calls by baseball umpires problem, but all I can say about everything is that if it wasn’t one of these issues, it would be something else. Sometimes I think that the answers might be right in front of us, in a Randy Newman song or something, and we’re just not hearing it.

I’m pretty sure our cat knows the answers. I think she keeps trying to explain it to me, over and over and over. Sometimes, if I give her some verbal response, she gets this look of hope as if she thinks I just might be understanding what she is saying. Not even close. Meow. Meow. Meooow. Mew. I’m just not gettin’ it. It seems, the less I appear to get it, the more it upsets her. So she empties the contents of her stomach as some sort of stress response.

I’m not a cat guy. We had a few dogs over the years of my childhood. The last one was a britney spaniel that would jump for the tennis ball we bounced off the floor. Wonderfully entertaining. One of the things I really liked about him, even though I didn’t realize it at the time, was that he didn’t throw up all over the house. That’s a really appealing attribute. In the end, we gave him up because he had begun to run away and be gone for days at a time. I have a feeling he may have known what it’s all about, too. The difference is that he didn’t spend any energy trying to tell us about it. It’s as if he expected us to figure it out for ourselves. I respect that.

I’ve always been more of a dog guy.