Peculiar Stories and Declarations

Writings from my Own Mind

Peculiar Stories and Declarations

Category Archives: Declaration

Cat

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The occasional visitor, almost always a woman, will ask me what the cat’s name is. I tell her the cat hasn’t  told me. I say that names are for humans and a cat is a cat. So I just call him Cat, even though he doesn’t pay any attention to the name. He pays attention to food, and to warm places to sleep, like my chest when I’m sitting in the recliner or on my legs when I‘m in bed. He lets me know when he wants to be scratched without having to call my name, which he doesn’t know anyway.

Cat is pretty good company. He doesn’t make unnecessary noise and he’s good to look at. I like the way he moves. I think he hears things that I can’t hear. Every once in a while I find him staring at a wall with his ears tucked flat against his head. He can stay that way for quite a while. Possibly he hears mice. He presents me with a mouse every once in a while. I stroke him and feed him when he does his duty like this. Otherwise, his job is just to be himself, which he is good at.

The woman will ask “where did you get him?” I say “he got me.” He just showed up one day, through some passages I was unaware of at the time. He was in the kitchen when I arrived one day, and he seemed to expect I would feed him. I did, and that seemed to settle it.

He’s a bigger than average short-haired tabby, with wide shoulders and one half-an-ear that I guess got torn in a fight. I’ve known adult male cats before, so I worried at first that  he’d put his musk marks all over the place. He hasn’t, so far. I guess he doesn’t feel the need since he reckons he owns it already, or maybe he reckons it’s mine and I’m the boss? Anyway, who can figure out how an animal thinks?

I guess I’ve gotten pretty fond of Cat. He’s a good companion. If he isn’t around for a few days I wonder if he’ll be back. So far, he’s always come back, but he’s made no promises.

The Perfect Car

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When I have been awake-dreaming, imagining impossible things for my own entertainment, I have thought about the perfect car. I have shared this one with Fred, because he understands; there is nothing he doesn’t know or hasn’t thought about cars.

Of course, I’d have to be completely rich with no cares about how much I spend on the perfect car. This makes the imagining easy.

Here is the basis for my desired car: I want it to be powerful, invulnerable, anonymous.

Let’s say I go into a car dealer that sells Rolls Royces, or High-end BMWs. Let’s say I look at a larger than average size, but not ostentatiously large, four-door sedan. Let’s say I like it and say to the obsequious and fawning salesman: “I’ll take it—wrap it up.” The last little comment is to make the cringing salesman quiver with uncertainty. After he mumbles a bit, I tell him the following:

I want it in exactly 30 days, delivered to my home, with the following changes—

  • I want the color to be the darkest blue that you can find, anywhere in the world, but not so dark that it appears to be black. Take off all the current paint; get it down to bare metal. Put enough layers of primer, paint and overcoat on the bare metal to make it seem that the metal itself is of the final color.
  • Take off all the identifying logos and markers. If you want me to advertise your car’s manufacturer and your dealership, I want to be paid for it—a lot. If you can’t do this, the deal is off. (Pause, while the salesman consults the dealership’s manager). I thought you’d see it my way.
  • Armor-plate the insides of the doors, top, hood and trunk with a double layer of Kevlar. Replace all the fenders and bumpers with stainless steel.
  • Change the engine and drive train such that it has the power and sturdiness of a small tank. Oh yes, I want it to accelerate rapidly—zero to 60 MPH in 8 seconds.
  • All the glass has to be bulletproof and, except where the law demands otherwise for certain windows, opaque to the outside viewer.
  • There are to be no protrusions from the surface of the car, anywhere. All antennas and other communication and electronic navigation apparatus must be internal and, of course, of military quality. The outside door handles are for show, only. I will be able to command the doors electronically with a 100% failsafe system, by my own voice and, as an alternative, by a finger-tap code on a certain portion of the car known only to me. Yes, I know that’s expensive, Get it!
  • All the internal systems of the car—doors, windows, communications—are to be easily controllable only by the driver from a console at his right hand, next to the driver’s seat. I want the best GPS system on the market.
  • There will be a proximity detector for all surfaces such that any object is detectable and communicated to the driver when it is ten centimeters from any surface. A screen in the dashboard will indicate the location and density of this object. There will also be a motion detector, synchronized with the proximity detector. Finally, as a picture of how all this will work and for what possible purpose (I am telling this to the salesman who, by now has recruited the manager who has recruited the owner of the dealership to be witnesses and mutual supporters in this over-powering transaction), let us imagine is there is a strong man with a hand weapon of any sort, blunt or sharp, or a firearm. Let us say that the car detects him and his weapon invading the protected area of one meter. I want the man Tasered—now! Yes, yes, I know. I’ll worry about the legality of all this. I’ll sign a waiver—get your lawyer if you want.
  • Finally, I want the details of this transaction completely confidential and held by a trustee whom I will pay. I want your dealership to post bond to indemnify me for ten times the final amount if you or any of your associates or family reveal the details to anyone, without my express permission. I may someday have to grant permission to a court, I know. That’s my issue with the court and the trustee whose identity you may reveal to others if you are directed to do so by any lawful, court-sanctioned authority.
  • To guarantee compliance and as reward for the extra labor involved, I will pay you the floor price of this car, plus double the extra expense of the modifications, upon my receipt of all expense records. If I detect any padding, I will reduce the extra payment by one-half. This is all to be in writing, notarized and witnessed, of course.

Have a nice day!
—

I trotted this little fantasy out to Fred, the knower of all things automotive, and he said it would more likely be a thing to be built from scratch by a specialist, and it would be much more confidential if done this way.

I’m not yet ready to put the specifications out to bid; I’m still working on my first million dollars.

The Puddle

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It’s not a perfect slope. The asphalt-covered path, just wide enough for a large vehicle to traverse, begins between the apartment building to the west and the children’s sandbox and grassy area to the east. After around five meters down the gentle slope, the path abruptly widens. The center of this larger paved area is inlaid with decorative bricks which the children use as a palette for their colored chalk pieces. The path grows steeper here, and at its north end is a latched gate to keep the youngsters from escaping their playground, down the stairs to the path at the lakeside below.

The entire path is tilted downward, slightly, toward the east. When it rains, the water flows from west to east across the asphalt, then closely along the retaining wall of the sandbox and grassy area. A heavy rain will produce a little creek along this wall.

There is a depression in the asphalt before the creek leaves the narrow path, where it will become a little lake. Kids love it. Despite the rain, even snow,  parents will clothe their charges as for a storm so they can run, jump and splash–some bringing pails and shovels to capture the water.

But no more. Progress has been committed. The whole area has been repaved and re-bricked. The tilt in the path remains, but the depression next to the retaining wall is gone. No more running, jumping, splashing in the collected water.

What price progress?