My checkered future

Friends and Comrades,

It has long been agreed that Sundays weigh heavily upon the populace; this has been documented throughout the centuries  in memoirs, novels and short stories, news reports, scientific studies and etc.

Sundays with Mama et Papa are no exception.

This past week I decided to take matters into my paws by suggesting an innovation and a return to the pastimes of pre-21st century-- a non electronic, non digital, strictly analog board game.

I selected checkers. First challenge: to find a checkers board; a glass trivet. Next, checkers pieces. Quarters and pennies.

Finally: learn the rules.

For that last, I consulted Mama who had been known as a Checkers Champion in her youth. Slowly, carefully I elicited the complex intricacies of the game, direction of moves, jumps and the ever important, "King Me."

My first challenger, Papa. Perhaps, my friends and comrades, you will not be surprised that I soundly trumped him.  My double jumps, keen appreciation for the necessity of both strong offense and defense, and finally my crowning achievement, racking up the Kings, led me to victory time and time again.

Realizing that it might be time to reap some winnings, I cautiously suggested a little wager. What a fantastic idea! Here you see me dressed in a tux, ready for the evening out on the town that I was able to pay for thanks to my checkers prowess.

Sundays will never be the same.

Perhaps you'd like to play a little game and place a little wager? Let me know in the comments section below.

As ever, your loyal and strategically-thinking pal, Mercury

Do I dare to eat a peach?

Good afternoon, friends & fans,

I read this question somewhere and it caused me to reflect on one of the most important factors of my life: food. When, what, how, where and why food is served to me daily are matters for due consideration and many grave aspects of my life depend on the answers to those (almost) overwhelming questions. I will answer some of those questions below (and I will ask others). I hope you will write to Mama and Papa with suggestions for some sorely needed improvements. (use the comments section below)

When & What: generally I'm served an early morning hor d'oeuvre, followed by a breakfast of high end dog food at 8:30AM. There follows a dry spell until mid-morning at which time I share Mama's tinned salmon, humus and olive sandwich. Mid day crunchy snacks are occasionally served up but I can count on an ample early, i.e. 3PM, supper (yet again the prepared high end, if dry, dog food).

Once Papa returns from wherever he spends his day, the menu improves markedly. I share at least a morsel of each item on his dinner plate and also any of his later evening snacks. As well, tempting doggie cocktails & treats are generously profferred -- as they say, it's always 5 o'clock somewhere. [Doubtless it's Papa's contributions to my daily diet are doubtless what have prevented many of the diseases associated with insufficient caloric intake.]

How: one ceramic bowl and one plastic water bowl --albeit with pink scull & cross bones around the side. (and yet, there should be time to "lift and drop a question on [my]... plate.... before the taking of a toast and tea"...)

Where: I'm served in my own dining area (it can hardly be called a room), no table (therefore no table cloth), no chair, no candle sticks, no center piece (no--- you fill in the blanks).

Why: this is the most difficult question to answer since it encompasses so many aspects. I will name only four.

1) Why am I segregated from the dining table with its aura of deluxe?
2) Why don't I have full table service, chinaware, sterling silver, crystal goblets, linen napkins, lace doilies on a damask table cloth, etc., in other words the niceties of dining, those aspects that create pleasure out of need?
3) Why do I not receive a menu to be approved daily?
4) and finally, why am I not served on demand? (after which I'd have time to "wear white flannels and walk upon the beach...." instead of the dull routine: get up, eat, rest, eat, rest, eat dinner, snack, bed)

I hope you will give weighty consideration to my situation. (I have omitted some of the more objectionable problems, in favor of try to address those that seem more likely to, in fact, be solved.)

Please help me send a message and sing with me The Love Song of Mercury Murphy Roushanzamir.

Friends and Cars

My dear and faithful fans,

If you read my previous entry, you'll know why it has been so long since I've put pen to paper (paws to keyboard). Yes, I was truly shocked that my pal Santa (my best pal, or so I thought) treated me dismissively (if not snubbed me altogether). However, we've passed the turning point, Santa has another chance to demonstrate his devotion, 5 months (and counting).

So, on to other matters.

Driving lessons were on my summer agenda. After years of total dependency in this car-dominated society, Papa agreed to teach me how to drive. And how absurdly simple it turned out to be; simply point and go.

Papa has promised to buy me a car of my very own! I've selected a Mini Cooper, the smallest size, preferably hunter green. And unlike Santa (pal that he has heretofore always been), I will get my car very shortly indeed-- certainly before University of Georgia--Athens classes start.

I can't say that Fall is in the air. To the contrary, hot and humid has been the story of the last 4 weeks and promises to by the sequel playing out over the next 4 weeks (and beyond?). But the start of university classes holds the promise of new comrades on the journey of knowledge pursuit. Who knows where that journey will lead. Please return soon.

As always, with gratitude for your readership. Please feel free to send your comments or questions. I promise to answer them all.

Your friend, Mercury Murphy Roushanzamir