Clawing creatures are not exempt from Poor Reaction Syndrome. Stinky the Ambiguously
Named Kitten has reached that stage of a kitten’s life where every waking
moment is spent biting, clawing, or biting while clawing anything that moves
and a few things that don’t just in case.
Normally, this isn’t a huge problem as the Cat Attack Quotient (CAQ)
is dispersed among potential targets. Between two other cats, three children,
and one wife, there’s a pretty good chance that any given attack won’t
be directed at ME. However, the kids are presently out of town for the summer
and the wife is out of town for at least the week, causing the CAQ to increase
exponentially. It doesn’t create the best of moods to be awakened at four-thirty
in the morning with a cat biting your face.
Nor is it, I would think, anyone’s idea of a good time to step out of
the shower only to have a kitten affix itself, lamprey-like, to one’s
naked leg.
In any event, Approaching Summer indicates the height of Tourist Season in
Santa Fe, New Mexico, where I work. While I’m quite accustomed to meandering
around in the Santa Fe Plaza during lunchtime and gawking at tourists, lately
they’ve been directly invading my office.
It seems the restrooms at the Visitor’s Information Center have gone
out of order, and apparently the only information most visitors WANT at said
center is, “Where’s the can?” Now, the VIC is directly attached
to the Tourism Department’s Administrative Building, and my office is
directly across from the connecting door. Roughly every five minutes, then,
I find myself interrupted by various linguistic versions of, “Where is
bathroom?” Usually my tourist encounters involve people asking for a museum
or the St. Francis Cathedral, but it appears that the Lamy Building Bathroom
is a far more popular international destination.
Winners: No fewer than eleven Japanese Persons clustered into my office to
alertly listen to my detailed description of how to find the restrooms. I drew
much wisdom from this cross-cultural exposure. Specifically, I felt really tall.
Also, I forgot to warn them to keep an eye out for ants.
Anyway, I digress. Judging by the overwhelming response to my request for interview
questions, there is at least one person eager to read the interview with a Zealous
Niner Fan. As noted, my wife is out of town. I was unable to procure an emergency
backup Niner Fan. I did manage to contact my friend Steve, a Redskins fan, but
he had to go to work and all I managed to get out of him was the fact that he
thought Dan Snyder was on some sort of mood-altering substance.
Luckily, there’s no shortage of Seahawk-related news to discuss. Recently,
naming rights to Seahawks Stadium were finally sold to Qwest Communications.
I don’t personally think this is any big deal. So long as corporate advertising
in football doesn’t reach the degree of, for example, NASCAR (I recently
saw a NASCAR driver with ‘VIAGRA’ plastered across the front of
his shirt), I won’t be overly concerned. Sports and Advertising have been
linked in my mind since way back when an Albuquerque Duke would win free hot
dogs for smacking a homer over the Oscar Meyer billboard.
Shaun Alexander said something along the lines of, ‘The quest for a championship
begins at Qwest Field’. A lot of fans seemed to think this was pretty
cool, though I have to say it struck me as sounding rather hokey, like a company
by-line some advertising exec told him to spout for the cameras. I don’t
mean that in a Shaun-critical way, it’s just that it made me grimace a
bit like when hit in the gut with a painful pun.
It could have been far, far worse, I guess. “It’s time to make
Preparations for victory on Preparation-H Field!”, for example.
All-in-all, advertising in football has kept itself away from the actual game
more than some other sports, so I’m not inclined to make a big thing out
of it. Where it’s really starting to get intrusive is in the television
presentation. “And now it’s time for the Pepsi Place-Kick Highlight
of the Game!”, “This meaningless statistic brought to you by Right
Guard!”, and so forth. THAT is getting mildly irritating, considering
that the advertisers already have their regularly scheduled commercial times.
Dear Advertising Persons: Fine. Name the stadium. Fine, have your commercials
between possessions. The rest of the time: Leave us the hell alone. Your sponsorship
of the Red Zone Report will not cause us to immediately dash out to buy your
product. It will cause us to think your advertising executive is spending too
much time with a Buick-sized bong.
In conclusion: Beware of Toilet Ants.
Fire off your scintillating
insights, inquiries, and Sponsorship Deals (This column brought to you by Toyota!)
to trav@spinn.net
Trav Flatt