Supercat

I wish Jean Mock was on email, so she could send me a photo of her cat. We had book club meeting at Jean's wonderful house yesterday, and this enormous white and orange tomcat was the highlight for me. He curled and rolled around on the ottoman in front of me for most of the meeting. Jean estimated he weighs about 25 pounds or more, although he eats nothing but Meow Mix and not too  much of that. He must have a glandular problem. Anyway, he was the sweetest, friendliest thing, like a little old kitten!

The book club meeting was interesting, to me and Jean, at least. Well, I guess everybody enjoyed talking about Cleopatra. I hadn't read the book selection, but I had read other biographies and plays about Egypt's last pharaoh. I read a few stanzas from my Cleopatra poem. The snacks Jean served were out of this world, especially the marinated mushrooms and artichokes.

Every time I've been to the Mocks' home, I go home disgusted with mine by comparison to that perfect, perfectly decorated house. Maybe I need to get married, so I'll have someone to help around the house and provide money, expecially the latter. On second thought, I think I'd prefer to live down under the interstate. I've lived by myself so long, I don't think I could live with an angel 24/7.
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4:05 p.m. There's a movie on TV, with Ernie Kovacs in Technicolor. I'm not watching it, because I'm writing a poem about the lady who lived down under the insterstate. But it's a pleasure to look at that man, although he wasn't all that handsome, just sort of delightfully goofy-looking, and beautiful in Technicolor. I don't think he made many films. His wife was Edie-somebody, and together they were a comedy team-side show all by themselves. When Ernie died in a car wreck, Edie worked for years and finally paid off his hundreds-of-thousands in debt, which would be millions today. I remember how they used to recite poems in pidgin-German.