Got the Jimmy Legs

Digging in the dirt

This isn't the tent he gave me, but I assume it looks like this.

I'm trying to get organized and live up to the secret pact I made with myself that go me through the winter. During the cold months, when there was work to do on the house, I comforted myself with the thought: "I'll do it when it warms up."

Then this weekend comes along with 90-degree temperatures. Great. Unable to put it off any longer I went into the back yard with the intent to half-ass some yard cleanup then retreat to the TV again. Over Christmas we refinished some floors in the house, which produced a whole lot of scrap wood. Instead of dealing with it at the time (see above), I just piled all the wood in the yard. The Plywood, 2x4s, Masonite and old wood paneling have shuttled around the yard over the months, coming to rest against the neighbor's chain link fence. It somewhat resembles the barricade in Les Miserables.

I figured I could put the smaller debris in contractor bags and lash together the longest wood boards together in preparation for sawing them into bundles small enough for the trash guy to pick up. This still would leave some huge plywood sheets that would need to be cut repeatedly but there was no way I was doing that for now. I busied myself with the easiest of the tasks, bagging up small garbage, breaking down some of the thinner panels and whatnot. Meanwhile, my neighbor a couple yards over was puttering out back as well.

He struck up a conversation with me, noting that he had just dug up a bunch of dirt from his yard while working on his latest project, which appears to be a sort of gazebo structure (he described it as a 'cabin' and admitted that he's sort of winging the plans, making it up as he goes along; I like him already). Anyhow, he had a bunch of dirt, and he knows we have all these cats running around (his son learned to say "gato" before "Papi," I was somewhat chagrined to learn). The cats love to 'play' in the dirt, as he put it, so it could help keep the cats in my yard if they had more dirt to 'play' in. So I said sure, gimme the dirt.

Herein lies one of the awkward issues of yard-having in Brooklyn: we can't enter each others' yards. My next-door neighbor and I have no fence between us, but nearly every other yard is fenced off. So dirt that needed to travel some 20 feet would need to be carted through the neighbor's house, out the door, down the sidewalk, and through my living room just to get over here. He suggested an alternative: he would fill up sandbags with dirt and hand them over the fence to me.

For the next couple of hours, he shoveled dirt into reinforced bags, dragged them over to a ladder next to the fence, climbed up and gingerly dropped the bag into my waiting hands. I don't have a lot of space to dump extra dirt, but we do have a sizable plot in the back of the yard and a sort of narrow median down the center. We filled up every inch of available dirt-space, and there's still some dirt leftover. Part of his motivation was that now he won't have to pay to have the dirt hauled away. I don't know how much that costs, but he seemed grateful. It must be expensive, cuz I was exhausted and my muscles are all sore from the hauling and dumping; he did all that PLUS the shoveling. He even gave me a new gazebo tent that would have gone unused by him since he was building the permanent cabin thingy. Wow.

I admit I don't interact with my neighbors as much as I should. I talk to the next-door neighbors, since our houses are identical, so we feel like we are sort of related or something. But we're on head-nodding level at best with most of the other neighbors. So it was nice to have an excuse to speak to him, especially since his family is just about the only other family on our end of the block to use their back yards much. I'm hoping we keep talking, I'm racking my brain to find something I can give to him in return, but I'm pretty rusty in the ways of Neighbor Gifting. If I can't find something I would otherwise throw out he might find useful, should I bake him some cookies or something?

Wouldn't you like to be a Pepper

Pepper is a Portuguese Water Dog. She was rescued from a kill shelter and is hoping to find a permanent home. She lives in DC. Too bad no one in the DC area was interested in bringing a Portuguese Water Dog into their home.

UPDATE: Pepper has an adoption pending! But without groups like K-9 Lifesavers, every purebred dog produced on spec just pushes one more dog (purebred or not) into the euthanasia room.

Evil is his one and only name

I just finished a huge project at work and am loath to do anything else productive today, so let's catch up. We're back on the foster cat wagon, this time with a stray who showed up in the yard recently. We've been calling him Winger but we may change that to something more appropriate as we learn his personality. And that personality is evil.

Well, he's not exactly evil, he can be very sweet. He loves being petted and will roll all around and sit in your lap and let you carry him around at length. But before you get to do this, you'll get the hissing of a lifetime! He hisses more than any tame cat I've ever seen, it's almost like he doesn't know what hissing means. His new thing is to let me pet him for a while and then when I turn to go he hisses viciously and swats at my leg. I understand that maybe he doesn't want me to go, but jeez, learn some manners, buddy!

He has a variety of other behaviors that mystify me, like how he won't eat all of his food at once like all my cats (obviously he's never lived on the street where every meal could be your last). He won't play with the string-on-a-stick toy that has converted even the stodgiest feral cat. He meows with a hoarse, hollow sound not unlike the wail of a ghost.

But I have a new theory that explains nearly everything about him: he's an evil supervillain's cat. It makes perfect sense, evil supervillains love long-haired white cats, and some of their personality is bound to rub off on their pet. Who knows what happened to this guy's evil owner? Dropped down a chimney? Frozen in space? The mind reels. So now the real trick is, where do evil supervillains go to adopt their evil sidekick cats?

Possibly a futuristic, mobile adoption device, hell-bent on the uncompromising, total adoption of every cat in the 5 boros? Yes. It's the North Shore Animal League Mobile Adoption Van, coming to the corner of N. 7th & Bedford in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, this Saturday at Noon. Step out of the L train station and see a big-ass bus loaded with mostly Empty Cages Collective cats and kittens. Our man may be there if there's room, but I need to de-evil him a little more to make him tolerant of non-evil adopters.

Why can't you be nice to me


the princess, originally uploaded by Jimmy Legs.

We're back on the catwagon. Over the weekend we trapped the white cat who had been wandering around for a few weeks at least. We figured she wasn't a feral due to her clean coat and regal manner. We were correct, but what we hadn't figured on is her bad attitude. This cat is a Princess.

We left her in the trap for a while to acclimate. She was alone in her room, the lights off with a towel over the trap. This is supposed to keep a cat calm. But she decided to throw herself against the cage bars, knocking over her water bowl and causing a ruckus. She was making such a racket we could hear it downstairs. Eventually I gave in and came in to let her out of the trap. She hissed and hissed, but when the door opened she stepped smugly out (most cats will dash out and immediately hide somewhere). She kept hissing so I left her alone.

The next time I came in she was napping on the chair but desite the big plate of cat food I was holding, she still hissed a lot. But I approached slowly and reached out my hand and she rubbed her chin on it. She let me pet her for a while, and I thought all was forgiven. Not so, the next time I came in the room she started all over again.

She won't really do anything while I'm in the room, she won't really eat and she certainly won't deign to let me see her play with her toys. but when I leave the room I can hear her running around with the cat toys, which are always in different locations when I come back. I'm hoping she lightens up soon, she'll make such a great pet once she gets over herself a little! I know, I know, she's gotta have time to adjust, and she's already a lot nicer than most cats we trap. But you want them to be 100% friendly or 100% feral, since that easily determines what to do with them.

As for this lady (who I haven't even confirmed is female, but come on) I'm gonna assume she will soon come around so I am already planning on treating her like an adoptable. No eartip for the princess!

Solid State Marty

It's been a rough week of working day jobs we don't particularly like. In my frustration, I convinced myself I needed a new guitar amp. For several years I have used a Mesa Boogie Mark III, an incredibly heavy tube amp. I fantasized about the Fender Jazzmaster Ultralight, a mere 10th of the weight of my rig at 7.5 pounds. I could take the subway to gigs! But alas, I have spent the last 11 years distancing myself from solid state amps, preferring the warm tones that only obsolete technology can give. This is not without its price. There is the aforementioned heft of tube amps (you simply would not believe how heavy this thing is), but there is also the cost of maintenance. A solid state amp is fairly reliable for years, there just isn't enough stuff in there to break. The tube amp, on the other hand, is rife with points of failure; I have him them all. Several times the amp has literally caught on fire, which while a good thing metaphorically, is less so in practice. The tubes themselves can be expensive and you're supposed to take it in for re-tubing and biasing by a professional, something I intend to do when the economy recovers.

Yes, the solid state amp sounded like a great idea. But before blowing another wad of money on more equipment I thought I should try to approximate what I'd be dealing with before submitting that order on musiciansfriend.com. So I switched on the Mark III and turned the gain down to get a clean sound, then ran a variety of distortion/overdrive pedals through it. My first real amp was solid state. But it was also a 500 watt Sunn head driving a Kustom cabinet with 2 15" bins. And even then my overdrive of choice was a Tube Driver, which has a little tube in it for authenticity.

Anyway, five minutes into this test I knew I wasn't leaving the Hallowed Halls of Tube. In short, it sucked. Tone sucking, to be specific. Whoa nelly. By not utilizing the wonderful albeit accidental tonal properties of the tube amp, my sound was reduced to a decidedly narrow sonic range. The guitar sounded like it was being pinched, the way a voice sounds in a megaphone. But then I realized, that's what stuff sounds like through the average guitar amp.

As you may know, my band has but two members. Since I'm the one with the 'melodic' instrument, it's up to me to cover some bases that other instruments normally would cover, namely the bass. What's been so great about the setup I have is that the Mesa gives great response through a huge variety of frequency ranges, obviating the need for a bassist (okay, that's debatable but throw me a bone here!). When I set up the amp, solid-state style, all the range collapsed back to the usual frequencies one would expect of a single electric guitar. It was all twang and no oomph. Sure it would probably cut through the noise of a band but without that low end, well, it seemed pointless.

Was this a conclusive test against buying a solid state amp? No, I mean, I suspect that some solid state amps paired with the right speaker can deliver all the stuff I'm talking about and probably some stuff I didn't know I needed. But the experiment built back some of my appreciation for the rig I have now; in effect, it just saved me $1000. After good guitar tone, nothing moves me more than saving a load of dough.