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December 17, 2005
TVP
I just checked out 16 books from the J.D. Williams Library with subtitles like: "How we remember, forget and reconstruct the past," and "David Halberstam, the Buddhist crisis, and U.S. policy in Vietnam." My left hand is involuntarily shaking from cradling their spines while I jogged from PN2867.A89 to DS559.T87, so as not to get locked in for the weekend. I need to write a thesis...but the past two and a half days have essentially been sacrificed on the altar of 24 - Season Four DVD. A bit more back-slapping and self-referential than previous seasons, but the same antihero tendencies from the most intense television character ever, Jack Bauer.
In the meantime, there's two cans of Vienna sausages across the entry hall on top of the kitchen counter. My neighbor and friend (I prefer neighbor because it seems more real) Will left them there. Done with law exams, on his way home to Athens, he asked me to feed his stray cat, Todd Van Poppel.
----
W: So, I've been trying to get the cat to sleep with me for the past few nights.
P: Oh, yeh? How's that going for you?
W: Terribly, it won't stay in the bed with me.
P: Well, it is a stray cat.
W: I know, but I'm thinking that it needs a name.
P: What are you thinking?
W: Todd Van Poppel. And I could call him TVP for short. (pause). Do you know who I'm talking about?
P: Vaguely.
W: 1991 Oakland A's rookie pitcher.
P: Yeh, I had his card.
W: He was the first baseball player to go straight from high school to the big leagues, and he did nothing. There was all this hype around him and nothing. I've always taken an interest in Todd Van Poppel. It's this sad human interest tale.
P: Are you sure you want to shove all that embodied disappointment onto this cat?
W: You are right, maybe I should call him Jim Abbott.
----
As it turns out, you see, TVP is not a stray cat. In fact, far from it. He or she (determining feline gender is something neither I nor Will can do) has an owner. Not only that, but we are certain that at least two other residents in our apartment building feed TVP, assuming the cat is indeed a stray. To me, that makes my role as sausage slicer and cat feeder all the more urgent.
I've not only gained a cat that will sometimes dart onto my sofa, deposit dander, and cause my eyes to water for the next three days, but I've also gained a friend, my own Kramer. Take last Friday night for instance, Will is at the movie theater, watching "Syriana" with myself and a few others. So you know, "Syriana" is entirely about Middle Eastern oil and big business. In the middle of a climatic last scene where Clooney's character is driving a jeep in the desert to meet up with some Arab princes, Will leans over and says, "Man, I thought they were in Arizona the whole time." Then, two days ago, a few hours before a six-hour torts exam, Will walks in. "I haven't studied today. I can't. I've been listening to Iron Maiden all day. I wonder what it's like to be so confrontational."
Posted by houch at December 17, 2005 04:37 AM
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Comments
P Houch, just keep telling stories. And I'll keep reading them.
Posted by: April at December 27, 2005 06:05 AM
Ah, but there's more to the Todd Van Poppel story. He was originally selected by the Braves in the draft, but he made clear that he had no interest in playing for them. So the Braves skipped him and selected... Chipper Jones!
Posted by: Reid at January 8, 2006 05:22 PM