Monday, December 27, 2004


How many swans a swimming?

The happy cat family, tig cat, tug cat and boss cat spent our very first Christmas alone this year. Partly because of circumstance--no time off other than everybody's ration of two days from work--which, now that you ask, is spinning like a top. tig & tug are jealous of the time I'm away, but they've been spoiled for 15 months.

Partly, too, because of no water, Dorothy. The ABS pipe in the lake burst into a beautiful ice-fall, and nothing reached the house. Christmas Eve day a gracious Vietnam vet turned hippie plumber got things going long enough for a holiday shower. Sadly, he had to cut the heating coil in the ABS, and won't be back until Thursday to (a) move the pump closer to the house and (b) install a new heating unit. So until then, it isn't the fruitcake you think you're smelling, it's one of a totally different species.

And partly, too, because I really can't stand/sit around with the neighbors while they get sloshed and try to force grog down me.

tig, tug & I had been collecting the gifts that arrived under the traditionally decked-out, um, poinsettia. We had a fantastic time opening presents and playing in the tissue.

Earlier in the week I counted 88 swans in the lake. Can't believe it. Graceful and noisy. Reminds me of one of my favorite sports.

After our Turkey Dinner courtesy of our personal chef, Ms. Callendar, the happy cat family napped away, still dreaming of sugar plums. Mine was tan, black hair, brown eyes, with just a hint of ginger in his personality.

Hope you all had a Merry, a Happy, a Holy, a Festive Day, whichever one(s) you celebrate!

Especially those of you so far away, without a tig or a tug, or even a boss cat, to keep you purring in the desert.

Saturday, December 04, 2004



At long last, tigertugger's returned to the blogosphere, after repeated booster attempts. The news is good. Well, except for the election, but that doesn't qualify as news any more, I spose.

tig & tug have been helping celebrate the New Job, turning kittie cartwheels and shaking the house with giant rumble-purrs. Especially when I get home each day.

The job's in NYC, which I'd hoped for, and getting into the bustle of midtown during the day, and downtown afterwards is the life I wanted to return to. In many ways it's like turning back the clock, and makes the many years working in NJ and Chicago disappear. Not all of them were bad, but I've always been happiest in the Big Apple.

Cheers from tig & tug!

Saturday, October 16, 2004


mr. personality

Tigertugger's been interviewing, and waiting, and interviewing, and waiting, and interviewing, and waiting for a real live full-time job. I'm better qualified than pretty much anyone for the job, and resent having my balls put through the wringer on this. The latest is that on Friday, I had to take a personality test evaluation. Six grueling hours of answering stupid questions, drawing pictures, and trying to figure out logic problems. I'm lucky I have any personality left. And the results won't be in for another week. Sheesh.

Meanwhile, consulting on the current editorial project continues. Data deadline is Weds. After lots of work and overcoming a number of obstacles, I should make it fairly easily.

Then back to the annual law compendium.

By that time, maybe tig & tug won't have forgotten me, I hope, and will congratulate me on the new job with the raspiest bath ever, stretched out in front of the fireplace.

Sunday, September 19, 2004


Which Peanuts character is tigertugger?

Pig Pen
You are Pig Pen!

Which Peanuts Character are You?
brought to you by Quizilla


Gmail invites

Tig & tug have six Gmail invites to give away. Send your first name, last name and email to tigertugger email in the sidebar. First six requests get invites.

Saturday, September 18, 2004


Reporting for duty, sir - Dad says its OK you haven't seen me lately

Tigertugger's been busy, as noted earlier, with lots of editing work to do (hooray!). I've also been revising my AA meeting schedule over the past few weeks. While going to any meeting is better than going to none, I've been a little fidgety at the local meetings here in the NJ Highlands. A meeting of five people has certain advantages, but not as a steady routine. And I don't feel a strong sense of camaraderie in the larger meetings, since I'm gay, have no children, don't enjoy yard work, etc.

So, I decided to go back to my sobriety roots, the meetings in Greenwich Village. The choice of meetings in just this one part of the city is unbelievable, and my regular meetings from years ago are still thriving. It's also been a treat to find familiar faces still in the rooms, and to get re-acquainted with them.

Rediscovering the Village has been fun as well. Who cleaned up Christopher Street? And where did all these straight people come from?

Friday, September 17, 2004



tigertugger's been awol, mostly working, working, working (while there's work to be had). tig & tug are planning a better update soon. Meanwhile, check out the cost of the Iraqi war link in the sidebar.

Thursday, September 02, 2004


Arrrrr! Ye Scrogs & Sea Dogs!

tig & tug will be celebratin' tigertugger's birthday a day early, on September 19, International Talk Like A Pirate Day!

While tigertugger swings the lead, the cubs'll be goin' on account, and polishin' up their vocabulary usin' a variety o' resources, includin' t' Pirate weblog, The Ship's Log O' the Festerin' Boil.

By the powers, they'll be swashbucklin' and hornswagglin' booty from the bilge to the poop deck.

When falls the night, the threesome'll ply the buccaneers with the top ten pirate pickup lines.

All ye Jack Tars and Picaroons can train yer tongues in preparation, as well as larn t' true meanin' of t' term "bung hole," at these amusin' locations:

Pirate Home
Talk Like a Pirate Translator
The Pirate's Realm
Pyrate Talk
Scoundrels Pirate Terms

Lily-livered landlubbers will be granted quarters only if their Rogers is Jolly enuf.



Pataki's bedtime story is making me so sleepy, I don't know if I'll be able to stick around for W's fibs.


Scott's Eyes

What is this love that grows within my breast,
As infinitely changing as the blue
Of God’s blue sky, whose span from east to west
Diminishes all man-made points of view
To hollow rumors of cerulean
And unsubstantial hints of indigo?
To fix upon the host’s meridian,
Discover north or south or high or low,
Is but to chart the passage of the clouds,
Which yesterday the boundless four winds blew;
Or choose one hue among celestial crowds,
Decrying how it paints my love untrue.
    To look for measure of my love in sky’s
    To look for nought: my meaning’s in thine eyes.


Tuesday, August 31, 2004


Best reports from Iraq

Best on-the-ground, eyewitness reports from Iraq: Back to Iraq 3.0

Weblog Perspectives, Daily Life and photos from: A Family in Baghdad

Let's make a bigger, less protected target

Yesterday, on my way to meet friends in the city after work, I was one of 15,000 people delayed by a suspicious package in the Hoboken Terminal. My fellow passengers and I were trapped in a train stopped on the tracks, hearing announcements such as "Ladies & Gentlemen, we are being held indefinitely outside of Hoboken due to police activity in the terminal." Five minutes later: "We've been told that the Hoboken Terminal is being evacuated." Five minutes later: "We do not know what is happening in Hoboken, and have been told that there is no estimated time that we will be allowed in the terminal," etc., for an hour.

The mood in the train escalated from annoyance to apprehension to worry. Everyone on the train was phoning family and friends, asking if they had heard what was happening, or checking their web connections for any news. Nobody knew nuthin.

Eventually, the train moved to a NJ Transit Employees stop, and we were instructed to evacuate our train (but not WHY), and that a following train would collect us, which it did, a few minutes later. We were told that the Hoboken Terminal had been "re-opened," but there was no news of how soon we'd be able to reach it. Dead on the tracks again.

Nearly two hours behind the schedule ("revised for the RNC week"), we arrived at the Hoboken Terminal, all looked normal--well, except for about a million cops, K9 units, confusion. I took the PATH train to the city with no further incidents.

Normally, I would have taken the Midtown Direct train straight to Penn Station. However, due to the RNC, and for "security's" sake, all of these trains had been re-routed to Hoboken for the week. Now I wonder: for whose security? Penn Station and surrounds is the most secure location on the planet this week. But instead of sending half of the normal train traffic there, as usual, the powers decided to create anguishing congestion in Hoboken, essentially trapping thousands of citizens in a relatively unprotected location, providing a wonderful target for any would-be terrorists. How smart is that?

Unless, of course, some lives are worth putting at risk in favor of the unwelcome fat cats in MSG, surrounded by cops, soldiers with rifles, FBI, Secret Service, etc., making the whole area reminiscent of a totaliarian regime.

Saturday, August 28, 2004


Messages from Tiananmen Square Garden

. . . And from outside the Garden:

Photo by Jason DeCrow. Copyright © 2004, Newsday, Inc.

Wednesday, August 18, 2004


ok this is really stupid but i can't help myself

:: how jedi are you? ::

Thanks to my favorite Yoda

Monday, August 16, 2004


rrrrrrrroooooowwwwwww Nancy's got new boots

tug is thrilled and can't wait until Sept. 14, when Nancy Sinatra Returns with a full new album. The first single is "Let Me Kiss You," written by Morrissey and on his latest album.

This chorus line — "Close your eyes and think of someone you physically admire and let me kiss you" — has tig fantasizing about how Nancy got Morrissey to sing backup on the tune. He's so geared up he's racing here to get his personal persuaders.

tug wishes he had the right cell phone carrier to download the You Only Live Twice Ring Tone


Meeting time

After making a recommitment to attend AA meetings in honor of my recent anniversary, I've done fairly well, and the experience is still kind of amazing. Not that it's easy to get myself to take the action of kicking myself out of the house and my familiar funk. But I never leave a meeting not feeling better.

Because my attendance has been spotty to nil over the last howmanyever years, I'm finding myself relearning lots of things I thought I knew. Tonight's lesson for me was that my insanity and my addiction are not separate issues. I can bring myself close to the equivalent of a good binge just by feeding my obsessions. And if I don't have a good obsession underway, it isn't hard to create one.

So, somehow tonight HP got me back to coming to believe that a power greater than myself could restore me to sanity, and I dragged myself, much against my will, to a meeting.

By the end of the meeting, Mr. "Can't Get It Together to Clean His Own House" actually volunteered to help clean up the meeting room and meet a couple of people.

God, I hate being such a wuss.

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