PIMPING ONION PRODUCT
I can't let this pass without a post:

But to apologize for the indirect self-promotion, here's some piano-playing cats:

R.I.P. Oscar (1994-2007)

Stevie and I had to put our cat Oscar to sleep today after a short, but clearly devastating illness. He lost a lot of weight over a short stretch of time, dropping from 10 pounds in Spetember to 6.5 in late-December, most the weight loss ocurring over the last few weeks. Our vet diagnosed him with kidney failure last week and prescribed a course of medicine and special food hoping it would give us a few extra years. But at the end of the week he'd only gained a fraction of the weight back, was frequently ill, and clearly not enjoying a high quality of life. The decision was hard, but not as hard as what would certainly have come next. The vet suspected that, given the medicine's ineffectiveness, he probably had a tumor in his digestive tract.

I adopted Oscar in 1996 after losing another cat to illness. He spent the first few days holed up in my closet, growling ferociously whenever I'd get near. I dropped off his food and water and kept my distance. Eventually he came around. I have an early, pleasant memory of curling up next to him in my bedroom in Madison listening to a U2 concert at the stadium nearby. He was always good for a curl. Apart from food and napping on top of random objects (in boxes, on computers, atop discarded hats) it's pretty much what he lived for.

It was from that same window that Oscar tumbled one night, sustaining neurological damage that left him unable to move three limbs for a week. He recovered thanks to the work of my great Madison vet and was walking by the end of the week. Only his trademark ragged ear remained to remind everyone of the traumatic experience.

Oscar was always sweet with me but could be a bit of an S.O.B. to others, particularly Stevie in the our dating years. He also made it hard to eat. When I lived with Nathan, he once reported losing an entire rotisserie chicken to him. Apparently Oscar walked around the apartment with it like it was a fresh kill. He terrorized houseguests. He smacked the dog in the face. He had his turf and knew to defend it.

But he was a sweetheart if he gave you the chance to get to know him. He even accepted Stevie after a while, spending most nights snuggled up next to her in bed. (True, he'd bite her if he wanted to jump out, but still...)I lived in five different locations with me but I think he liked this last one the best. It gave him lots of room to roam and plenty of closets to hide in. Mostly, however, he was happiest hanging out with us. He was good at that. We miss him.

WHO SAYS BLOG IS DEAD?

Okay, it's a new year and a new birthday. (I'm a spry 34 now.) So it seems like as good a time as any to revive this thing. Also, I've got a few freelance projects I'm working on, so I'll be taking some notes here as it progresses (hopefully quickly since it's due in a couple of week.)

What's been happening here during the hiatus you ask? It's been busy, and not always in a good way. Stevie's grandfather died after a long illness. It was sad and entirely expected. His mind was clouded by illness in his final years, but his love for Stevie shone through until the very end. He was a brick mason, WWII submariner, and a tremendous fan of the Jackie Gleason Orchestra. I'm happy to have known him.

Otherwise we've been busy with work and vacation. Ireland was a long, good time. We ended up mostly driving around and looking at stuff by day then drinking in the pubs at night. I couldn't have asked for a better time. Work's been keeping both of us plenty busy. I think I'm finally getting the hang of publishing daily on the web and I've finally been writing more, so that's good. The past few weeks have been especially busy. We basically put together four issues at a time, which left me headachy at the end of every day. It revived my faith in Excel and the virtues of planning well-ahead, but the subsequent days off have been nice.

Not that I won't be busy: Starting January 2 (I believe), I'll be taking part in Slate's annual movie club, a year-end round-up of the past year in film. I'll be hashing it out with Slate's Dana Stevens, Wesley Morris of The Boston Globe, and Carina Chocano of The L.A. Times. How I ended up in such esteemed company I'll never know. I'm just going to try my best not to embarrass myself.

One other thing going on: Our cat Oscar--that's him in my thumbnail photo--has taken ill. He's lost a substantial amount of weight in a short of amount of time. The vet's diagnosis is kidney failure. Her prognosis is that with medicine and special food he might be able to hang around for a while, which would be nice. He's turned into a an old man of a cat pretty rapidly, however, so I don't know. At my birthday party the other night it occurred to me that I've had a longer relationship with Oscar than with anyone else at the table except one person. (Heya Anne!) I'll certainly miss him when he's not around anymore.

Okay, there's a big meaty post for anyone still reading. More to come.