Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Floofternize (floofinition) – housepets who are friendly with one another, regardless of species or relationships.
In use: “To everyone’s satisfaction, the home cats floofternized with the visiting felines, with Doodlecat and Stoney buddying up to one another, and the other cats sharing their food and toys.”
Perhaps, if you’re old enough, you remember having thirty-three and forty-five RPM records that you played on your phonograph.
Maybe you had eight-track or cassette tapes. Perhaps you had a VCR later, playing VHS tapes. Maybe you went with Beta.
Then you switched to Laser Discs, Blue Ray, CDs and DVDs before you started streaming.
You may have used a Walkman a couple decades ago, before changing to an iPod Shuffle. Maybe you use your phone now, downloading your songs from the Cloud.
It’s fun living through these changes. Now we’re embracing more changes. Ford and GM have both announced moves to curtail selling cars in the United States this year. The profit margins on manufacturing cars is small, and sales are down. People are buying more SUVs and pick-ups, if they’re buying a motor vehicle at all, because motor vehicles overall have declined. Young people aren’t buying cars as often.
Just curious, but do you remember talking about SUVs in your youth? I didn’t; we had utility vehicles then. The sports came later.
Do you remember the mini-van craze, or are you too young to remember that?
Young people are marrying less these days. The median age for a man in America to marry was twenty-nine point five years old, up from twenty-three in the early 1970s.
Young people are also dating less. They struggle with interpersonal relationships of romantic and sexual natures if they’re engaged face to face. It’s easier for them if there’s a cell phone involved.
Did you know what a Tinderella is?
Fun fact. My friend the professor struggles initiating class discussions in her class of twenty-somethings. Then she started posting texts, and the discourse began.
Ah, cell phones. Remember princess phones and wall phones, cordless phones? Remember pagers? Remember car phones?
Do you remember Instamatic cameras?
Meanwhile, NASCAR paid attendance is declining. Less people are watching the races on television, as well. That’s parallel to a trend of declining NFL paid attendance and television ratings.
Remember playing video games? Are you old enough to recall Pong? Did you ever think about playing a game on your phone? Did you ever believe that you would enjoy playing games on phones so much that you needed data plans to enable your habit?
Beer sales in America are declining. More people are drinking wine.
Over in the Olympics, snowboarding was a big draw in 2018 while the slalom was dropped. Word came out last week that the IOC is not planning to have boxing in the 2020 Olympics.
Went to the movies the other day. When I was young, over fifty years ago, we had a cartoon or short film before the feature. That’s been replaced with ads, trailers, and previews.
The movies cost thirteen dollars for two of us the other day, cheaper than many places, but do you remember paying less than a dollar for the movies? Mom remembers paying a nickel, but she’s over twenty years older than me.
A nickel to get into the movies was a long time ago, wasn’t it?
Shall we talk about the price of gasoline? How ’bout a quart of milk, a loaf of bread, or a cup of coffee?
Say, do you remember when you first thought about buying organic?
These times, they are a’changin’.
Inflooftion (floofinition) – increasing the number of housepets in a household.
In use: “While economic experts worried about inflation, Miles worried about inflooftion. He’d begun by feeding one stray dog, and now here she was, leading a small pack of puppies. After seeing those faces, he dismisses his inflooftionary worries and invited them into his house.”
Floofthora (floofinition) – an abundance of housepets.
In use: “It’d begun with a rescue Pittie and a rescue cat. Then a stray tom was taken in, puppies and kittens were born, a parrot came along. Suddenly a floofthora was ruling their home.”
It seems like the Internet was more fun when I was younger, and it was too. I’ve become jaded and cynical, and the net has become commercialized and polarized. Back in those days, I worked in a place where my team were all in cubicles. This parody, based on James Blunt’s hit song, “You’re Beautiful”, put it all in perspective.
Floofanym (floofinition) – the other names by which a housepet is know, either to one another, or to the people they live with; a housepet’s secret name; the names given to a housepet seen by others when their real name(s) aren’t known.
In use: “Although her name was Jade, her floofanym was Pokey, given for the lazy deliberation with which she enjoyed investigating things.”
Flooftzy (floofinition) – a housepet who is eccentric, scatterbrained, easily confused, or does silly things.
In use: “Demonstrating new levels of being flooftzy, the little tabby cat attacked the garbage can’s swivel lid, beating it as it went around and around.”
There it is, the bolt informing you that, holy shit, it’s almost December. December begins this Saturday.
If you’re like me — and I hope you’re not — you’re agog with amazement that November is almost empty. Hell, 2018 has almost spent its calendar, and here I am, still dragging myself forward.
But, you know, take the positive, I am moving forward. It doesn’t go as fast or smoothly as desired, dreamed, or hoped for, but I keep creeping forward.
What will the end of November mean? Well, in some ways, it means a re-assessment. It means, for me, an agnostic in America, enduring the holidays, which sometimes means enjoying myself, respecting others’ beliefs and traditions, and otherwise, doing what I do, except there’s more food and music.
Likewise, the end of the year means some searching, but I search almost every day, looking for truth, hope, justice, luck, love, something to eat, answers for puzzling questions, etc. So, really, nothing, but because of where I live and who I am, everything.
Yes, it’s a conundrum. It’s a good word, conundrum.
I don’t know what was up with the gingerbun this morning, a.k.a., the orange feline floof known as Papi, but also called Meep (in appreciation of the meeping sound he uses for a meow).
I’d fed him and let him out of the house. An hour later, I checked on him to see if he wanted in. He wasn’t around the back door. As I headed for the front door, I thought I heard a thump – perhaps the sound of a cat whacking the door with his paw – at the back door, so I reversed course. Yes, there he sat, waiting for the door to open.
So, you know, I did.
Phlooommm, a bright orange streak galloped past me. In wonder, I turned and watched him make a circuit of the living room, dining room, and kitchen, come back to me, and stop, looking up at me with his tail standing tall. I swear he was grinning. As I closed the door, I said, “Aren’t you in high spirits?”
Phlooommm, Papi bolted away, leaping up onto dining room chairs and off, sprinting past Tucker, the house lord, spinning on the hardwood floor, and then racing back to me to slam to a grinning halt in front of me again.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
Yes, he replied, tail up, rubbing against my leg. Then, phlooommm, he flashed away.
I love dipping. Not snuff. No. Tried it once, didn’t like it. I like dipping cookies, doughnuts, and toast into tea, hot chocolate, or chocolate milk, and coffee. I also dip buffalo wings into sauces, and chips and crackers into dips. I’ve dipped things in beer, like pretzels, but I’ve not been impressed with the results. That’s life. And of course, I’ve skinny-dipped. I really liked doing that, especially the time I did it in the Mediterranean Sea off the coast of Sicily.
Some materials are better for dipping into coffee or tea than others. Doughnuts make for damn fine dipping, IMO. Today’s cookie, a gluten-free, vegan, GMO-free, locally baked chocolate ship affair, is a little dry. Not ideal, because that dryness contributes to the dipping drawback. Dipping a cookie into my coffee, I’m aware that some is crumbling into the coffee. This produces a bottom situation called dipping dredge. That’s the soaked stuff that remains when the beverage is almost gone.
I’m not a fan of the dipping dredge. However, I’m not one to leave coffee behind. Thus, all I can do is suck it up.
Literally.
