Mercury Murphy

Sleep

2012-01-14T06:46:00.005-05:00

Sleep. How do I love you? A dog's life is marked by long periods of sleep. Perhaps you did not know that dogs total sleep time daily is 21 hours.

Dogs sleep for several reasons. The first, the pure pleasure of sleep's luxury and the excitement of dreams, considered the film of the dog world.

Second, let's be honest. Our loving people leave us all alone for 8-9 hours per day. Sure there's mischievous behavior to indulge, books to read, television to watch, and computers to use (!), but after all one can only remain occupied for so long. So, yes boredom plays its role.

Finally is the cuteness (the awww) factor. While I appear to be napping, Maman et Papa feel compelled to provide treats and play when I "awaken." Poodles have a special advantage: our long hair hides our eye (see photo above) so in fact Maman et Papa can't tell if I'm sleeping or if I'm awake. (see entries about omniscient and darling Santa).

In the end, sleep does play a large part in the life of dogs generally and in mine specifically. Luckily I've been given several different beds, one in each room, plus a cool loft space, my own home, in the bedroom. I hope you too are provided with the proper accoutrements of deeply restorative sleep , with the time necessary to refresh and to reflect on sweet dreams.

Reflections on Christmas from dawn to dusk

2012-01-09T09:59:00.003-05:00

Dear Followers,

About Christmas. It never travels far from the Roushanzamir household. It has been a week since the start of 2012 but as you can see the Christmas tree is still up.

Are Maman & Papa merely procrastinating? The horrible truth is that the Christmas trees stay in place all year long. Christmas trees, Christmas lights, Christmas cards, Christmas decorations, Christmas stockings, even Christmas music dominate the decor of all but my own very small loft apartment. The worst of course is that there's one major omission of the Christmas season revelry: No More Gifts.

What are Maman et Papa afraid of? Letting go of the general jollity? Fear that their lives will pale to a tepid gray without the (spurious) sparkle of what, let's face it, are tawdry symbols of a highly solumn if joyous holiday. Perhaps these accourterments symbolize their attempt to bring joy, if not to the world, at least to out household.

Or could it just be that Maman et Papa are indeed procrastinating and that days turn into weeks into years into decades and so come to define the lives of my darling, if eccentric, my very darling Maman et Papa..

Dear Santa, 2011

2011-12-27T19:04:00.009-05:00

Dear Darling Santa,

Thank you for bringing me some presents, some of which I like. You are the kindest, nicest man ever and I count you as my very best friend. It's wonderful that you take the time to visit me each year but I know that you see me when I'm sleeping and know when I'm awake 24/7.

To summarize: I did not get the Hide 'em and Find 'em plush toy with several small blue balls. On the other hand, I'm grateful for the antler chew toy and the long-needed china food bowl. I received a vintage reindeer toy but clearly that was for Maman. The candy cane chew toy's okay; it's not real candy. I was especially hoping for the I'm Beggin' Ya Treat Box (big size). But although that didn't materialize, I'm rather relieved not to have received a Burberry sweater (or for that matter any sweater).

[May I say, dear Santa, in all honesty that when it comes to the gifts, I was hoping for more?]

As for Maman and Papa, their gift experience was also mixed: no Mercedes, no 10ct. emerald cut, set in platinum diamond ring. Papa opened package after package of clothing. But he also found a Doctor Who hologram chamber and a special "Brown Betty" tea pot under the (rosemary) table top tree. And his loot included a Smiley's People DVD. Maman's hopes for Co Co Chanel perfume were rewarded. On the other hand, she has already returned her new warm winter coat. They both did receive thick warm socks.

We shared Christmas dinner with Pam, Sophie and Lily and that was wonderful. Great drink, food and conversation! Their tree was spectacular, the girls and Pam are beautiful, and everyone treated me as an honored guest. They appreciated the gifts I brought them--a cornucopia of fancy makeup, tough-cool black leather gloves for Pam, and $50 cash for each of the girls.

I have used my time this holiday season constructively. I've paid special attention to perfecting the combo winsome-wistful sideways Glance. I've steadily improved and at present the Glance is liberally rewarded with holiday treats, those reserved for doggies and those intended for strictly human consumption.

So, Santa, although I have some reservations, Christmas has been a happy holiday. I hope your Christmas was the best ever, that you in your turn received desired gifts and tasty treats, and that now you take a well deserved rest basking in the knowledge of a job well done.

I love you Santa, very very much. I hope you love me too.

Week of Woe

2011-12-20T14:09:00.004-05:00

The Christmas holiday season is my favorite time of year. A time when I expect new toys, treats, perhaps a Christmas sweater (I chose the word "expect," not desire)

But this past week can only be described as a major downer, a week of woe. First, a routine trip to the dentist turned into major medical. Second, the resulting meds led to some seriously deceptive behavior (on the part of certain people) which I shall explain momentarily. Then to add insult to injury, today I was dragged (chose that word advisedly) to Doggie Styles, the lair of the frightening Kelly.

The dental situation is dire; I will not linger over it here. The meds, a different story. Willingly I ingested the medications three times per day for several days. Now wouldn't you expect that if one prescription expired the others would too?

Learn from my experience; meds last as long as they last. Fed up with Maman's and Papa's mendacity I tried to refused the pitiful attempts to lure me with cheese and ice cream with more or less success. Finally, this morning, at the hint of the profferred cheese and ice cream, I ran away! They couldn't believe it. I'd confounded them thoroughly and I was feeling pretty fine

In the midst of my jubilation, however, Papa lured me into the car and drove me down that loathsome road ----- to Doggie Styles (ugh). I've written about Kelly before. She is a nice woman and pretty too. But her profession dooms her to the dread-list of doggies everywhere.

Now that Christmas is only 5 days away, I can only hope that my sacrifices to (not of) Good Behavior, my acceptance of adversity with no (or little) crying or pouting, and my general good cheer will be remembered by darling Santa who act upon that accordingly.

Don't Pout, Don't Cry, Be Good

2011-12-10T17:48:00.008-05:00

Post Script to my last:

Darling Santa, To show both honesty and contrition, two valued qualities, I must make a confession. This morning, I stole into Maman's room and made straight for the basket with cute gifts for big girls; also piled high with festive Hershey's kisses. Yes, I know I'm not allowed in Maman's room and yes, I know doggies are allergic to chocolate.

In my defense, Maman closed the door behind her as she left, but true, I was hiding out hoping she wouldn't notice me. (She didn't)

I grabbed a kiss when I had the chance. Santa, I swear (purely a figure of speech) on my dog food and my dog treats that I did not eat the chocolate! It was the candy wrapping I was after, and for a few bright moments I strewed it about for all I was worth. Maman blew into the room like a tornado, I don't know how soon after I'd begun my thrilling shredding of candy wrapping. My fun ended & victory wasn't won.

Santa, I do hope this episode doesn't compromise me in the gifts stakes. Please take into account the 364 days of 2011 that I have been and will be good.

Please refer to my previous blog posting if you've forgotten what's on my gift list.

In closing, I love you darling Santa. You're my greatest pal. I hope you're in good shape for your upcoming night time marathon. In your honor I will read my ebook pop-up version of The Night Before Christmas (available as an iPhone app) daily between now & then.

Love again, Mercury Murphy Roushanzamir

Dear Santa, 2011

2011-12-03T16:50:00.012-05:00

Dearest, darling Santa!

It's that time of the year again, time for good little doggies to be properly rewarded for their long, hard year of good behavior. Have I been naughty? No. Have I been nice? But, of course. Did I shred Maman's framed poster from London? Can I plead the 5th; after all, many of the best have.

Santa, you know how much I love you. You are friend, mentor, companion. You, at the North Pole, me at the South, we share a special bond. Often I say to myself: Santa is my best friend ever.

Well, lets get down to brass tacks. Here are the items I hope to receive from you this Christmas.

Mercury's Christmas List:

1.antler chews (the antlers fall off reindeer naturally, so don't worry about your helpers)

2. Hide 'em & Find 'em plush global balls puzzle (this IQ toy is green & blue, and each ball and the larger ball they fit into are colored green and blue like the earth. I wouldn't even ask for it if it weren't that my IQ is high enough to meet the challenge.)

3. a new bowl for my food. (Dining is always a pleasure, but think how much fun it would be if I had the appropriate china and flatware.)

4. a Burberry sweater (cashmere preferred).

5. An "I'm Beggin Ya Treat Box" (the big size)

6. a Vintage Reindeer Toy (really for Maman; she's beginning to prefer vintage; between us, we know that that signifies.)

7. a Sugar Lips Monkey Toy. (for tossing & killing when the mood strikes)

Because I'm so well behaved and unselfish I annually include some suggestions for what Maman et Papa hope to find under the Yuletide tree. They have been good though one cannot say excellent. In any case, they have not been naughty. I'm confidant you'll extend your bounty to them as well.

Papa:

He's still waiting for that Mercedes. He prefers black with the gun sight logo standing high.

New thick warm socks.

A t-shirt with a doggie logo.

Some doggie pj/s.

A board game we can play together.

Maman:

She's still waiting for that 10 ct. emerald cut diamond set solo in platinum.

New thick warm socks.

A gray & pink turtle neck sweater that zips into a v-neck sweater.

A trip to England.

A trip to Hawaii.

As a token of my appreciation, I will leave you some milk and an entire bowl full of my healthful & delicious food. It will make a welcome break from all those cookies which, in any case, are not good for your waistline.

Dearest darling Santa, I love you so much. I can hardly express how much I look forward to your yearly visits and how I value the gifts you give me. Perhaps this year you could also leave a personal letter, addressed to me. My reading skills are as advanced as my writing skills and I will not share your letter unless I have written permission from you to do so. But OH, how I would treasure such a letter; I would keep it in my little home which is entirely private and I would read it every evening before I fell asleep. Or consider visiting me during the off months. You are welcome to sleep in my home and we can play games and read with a flashlight after lights are supposed to be out.

Dear darling Santa, I hope you have a great, safe Christmas eve and visit all the deserving children & doggies in the whole world. My wish for your Christmas day is that it's joyous, full of tasty treats and sweet surprises.

Ever your very best friend, Mercury Murphy Roushanzamir
(I wanted to include my personal email address but Maman won't let me have one)

P.S. I'd also like a TV for my very own and an iphone like Maman's. (and a personal email address)

Mercury Makes Promises

2011-10-11T09:29:00.007-05:00

Fans, you must be faithful indeed to return to my blog after months of my neglect. I will now offer my excuses:

1. Maman et Papa did not buy a new bed for my loft. Thus, I had to wander the house, searching for something that did not exist, taking solace where I could find it.

1a. BTW, I merely borrowed the chair you see in the photo; it belongs to Grandpere (although he rejected it)

2. Maman bought herself a new computer, a MacBook Air. Note I say "herself." She won't let me near it. I've had to sneak into the computer room in her absence and thus gain access to Mac (as she calls him.)

3. As I recall, I had promised to show you some of my iPhotography and the edited images. Again Maman. What's up with her? Perhaps she's gone mad?! Perhaps she's jealous?! Now that I've learned how to use the computer by myself (and while she's not around) I will fulfill my original promise, i.e. to create and maintain a timely and entertaining blog. I will proudly show you some of the fruits of my labor and the progress I've made in graphic/visual arts.

Please check back soon to see if I've lived up to my promises (and to see if I have mastered the MacBook Air.)

Au revoir for now, MM

iPhotography Exhibits

2011-06-29T05:48:00.009-05:00

In this photo you see me in my Helper Dog uniform. I help Maman & Papa in many ways: around the house, with the cooking, taking them on walkies, choosing films & TV shows to watch, etc. But I'm not defined by my helper role alone. I have other occupations, ways in which I express the real me.

Now, I'm announcing three sites dedicated to my artist endeavors. Specifically, iPhotography. Both of these pictures have been shot and edited using iPhotography techniques.

iPhotography is a new art, a branch perhaps of 20th century photography, that involves snapping photos using different camera apps available in the iTunes store and then altering them with editing apps.

The camera apps I use are: the iPhone camera, KingCamera,100Cameras, Camera+ and iMaajiCam.

The editing apps: PhotoStudio, PhotoForge2, WordFoto, PhotoShop Express and Photosynth.

Loyal Fans & Friends, Would you like to view my work? If so, visit Doggie Days Diary where you will see many cute pictures of me!

Nature Altered displays a collection of edited pictures of natural landscapes & close-ups.

Word Foto combines images with words to add a dimension to what heretofore was an image-only art form.

I hope you will visit any-- or all --of these three galleries in which I present my creative work. Just click on the links above.

You can record any comments, whether about the techniques or the photo subjects on this blog (below) or on the gallery blogs.

Finally, please visit these galleries from time to time; I promise to add new material on a regular basis. For now, ENJOY! ;-D

As always, yours, Mercury Murphy

Powerful political flashmob in Paris

2011-06-14T05:32:00.004-05:00

Soon my Iranian grandmere will be here in Athens. Last year she brought me some gifts including 2 carpets of my very own. I hope she'll bring me some gifts this year too. In the meantime, here is a video that I think you, my friends & fans will enjoy:

This video shows a flash mob in Paris that quietly but powerfully takes a stand against oppression in Iran and read the of it on You tube.

Law & Order

2011-06-08T07:49:00.006-05:00

I am a big fan of law and order. Each morning as I peruse the police blotter, I'm struck again by the inane and sometimes vicious and dangerous behavior of human beings.

In this photo you'll note that I'm wearing my Helper Dog uniform. This I wear with great pride since it denotes my status as a responsible dog that fulfills her civic duties to individuals and to society.

But I am also devoted to Law & Order. The original is the best. See reruns on TNT daily. Next Law & Order: Criminal Intent which stars one of my favorite actors, Vincent D'onofrio. Reruns on USA. Law & Order: SVU, third. There's Law & Order: LA which I don't watch because I'm strictly East coast. But a new contender, at least in my viewing world, is Law & Order: UK.

[Break now while I watch same on BBC America.]

I highly recommend watching any of these programs (except LA). You will learn many things about NYC and London, about police procedures and about the justice system. They will augment your scans of the daily police blotter, service on a jury, or voracious consumption of mysteries.

And because all these will occupy so much time, you will keep out of trouble and stay under the radar of Majesty Law [enforcement].

Dark Monday

2011-06-06T08:35:00.004-05:00

Dear Friends and Fans,

Can it be that we haven't communicated since the tranquil days of Christmas, with their celebration of peace and presents?

Certainly I have been busily engaged in various artistic pursuits: iphone/tography, photo manipulation, music appreciation and so forth. More about all of those shortly. I've also been exploring the blogosphere and plan to update you on some noteworthy blogs that you may wish to follow as you do mine.

And yet, I am shamed to have neglected you, faithful friends and fans. (at least, I hope you've been faithful)

So why have I titled this entry Dark Monday? You've probably already guessed. It's Doggie Styles day, my monthly visit to what Maman calls the spa. Let's tell it like it is. Doggie Styles is a public bath and also, for the really unlucky ones, shave and a haircut. Adding insult to injury, the bath costs 2 bits---if you reckon in dollars, not cents. Dark Monday refers to bath only visit; deathly Monday, the full treatment.

How did such as nice woman as Kelly surely is enter such a dastardly business?

Some questions in life will never be answered.

Thank You, Darling Santa

2011-01-07T09:27:00.012-05:00

Dear, Darling Santa,

I hope you're not too tired to read my letter. Perhaps it's a bit overdue but I figure you might have needed a long nap after your arduous Christmas Eve. I tried so hard to stay awake that night so that I could join you as you drank the milk +brandy concoction and ate the delicious cookies. (Below is a picture to remind you of that night and of the delicious cookies; perhaps you'll want to visit me again soon.)

While I did not receive all the gifts I asked for, I was satisfied with my treat filled personalized pail, my argyle leash, a couple of balls to chase, gourmet treats to eat and a sturdy bone to chew. (Below are pictures)

Papa did not fare so well. He received a book titled A Butler's Guide to Gentlemen's Grooming and another, Porters English Cookery Bible (written by Richard, Earl of Bradford). Maman gave him a stress-relieving Adipose (a wicked alien encountered during the time travels of Dr. Who) which he disliked very much and which Maman immediately took back. Luckily, Papa bought himself an all-cotton scarf and a pair of Gap jeans. And after this blaze of infamy, he was happy to open a bottle of Glenmorangie. Perhaps friend Santa if you visit us (very) soon, he will share with you.

Maman did not receive a shopping spree in the London Burberry store, but she did open a beautifully wrapped package containing a Burberry Brit jacket. And another equally lovely package revealed sweet smelling perfume. The 8-10 carat emerald cut diamond ring set in platinum will have to wait til next year.

I know you see me all the time, when I'm awake and when I'm asleep, so perhaps you saw this: Maman downloaded a pop-up book on her birthday iPad titled The Night Before Christmas. Have you read that? It's all about a guy like you. He looks like you. He gives gifts like you. And, he says, "Ho Ho Ho." Just like you!

So darling Santa, primarily thanks to you I spent a wonderful Christmas. I was happy to learn at Christmas dinner that you visited the highly deserving Pam, Sophie, and Lily too. Next to me, they were probably the best behaved girls in Athens. Plus they set a beautiful holiday table, loaded with festive foods, and welcome me with open loving arms.

I hope you'll call me a few times during the year; we can exchange funny stories and maybe plan to meet somewhere. If that's not possible, I'll (hopefully) see you next Christmas Eve.

Love from the best behaved doggie ever, Mercury

My Christmas Letter 2010

2010-11-18T12:55:00.013-05:00

Dear Darling Santa,

I hope this finds you as it leaves me: very well behaved indeed.

Yes, I've been ever so good this year. I don't shiver when I have to go to Doggie Styles. I brush my teeth daily. I never sneak into the bathroom where the toilet paper roll is left unattended (well, hardly ever). I don't beg for food (honesty compels me to add that Papa keeps me well fed, no need to beg). I bark at bad guys & I allow little children to pet me. I haven't pouted or cried. I've been a good helper all year long. For example, I guarded the next door neighbors' house when they were out of town. I taught Mama how to use her new favorite computer gadget, Dropbox. I picked up after myself. I behaved unselfishly -- as proof see the lists below for Maman et Papa; these I made up myself which shows that I take others into consideration & have empathy for their needs and desires.

All that being said, and as you can see from the photo above, I am looking for you every day and hoping that I'll see you soon. I will leave out some milk & cookies, the milk laced with brandy for it is now quite cold in Athens and your open sleigh isn't the best vehicle for winter traveling.

Here is my list:

my own TV set with remote control & wifi connection

new microfiber suede bed for my home (preferably red)

high IQ interactive puzzle doggie toys and

a Dog Dizzy interactive toy

an India rubber ball (also preferably, red)

an argyle sweater (pinks & browns)

a personalized small toy bucket

Papa's list:

a vintage Alpha Romeo (preferably champagne color)

non-stick skillet

2 or 3 good books

Gap jeans

Ray-Ban prescription sun glasses

Maman's list:

a 10-carat diamond ring set in platinum

Chanel perfume (the large size)

Shopping spree at Burberry's in London

jar of caviar (the large size)

Dear, darling Santa. I love you so much. You are my very best friend. Please bring all these items to our house on Christmas Eve!

Lots of love, your good friend Mercury Murphy Roushanzamir

PS: Here is a present for you, Dear Santa. It is an enhanced photo that I created all by myself. If you like, you can take it with you on your flight around the world on Christmas Eve. It'll be good company for you. Love, again Mercury

Photo Manipulation & a day at the beauty salon

2010-10-27T09:42:00.006-05:00

This Monday was my scheduled visit to Doggie Styles where Kelly reigns supreme as Master Stylist. The first to arrive was a very old, almost bald, creaky white poodle. She had to be in a special wheel chair, only lifted out for very careful grooming.

The real truth is that I dislike visiting Doggie Styles. Not because Kelly isn't a Great Groomer--she is! Not because the decor is rather shabby chic--it is, but coming from my household who am I to complain. But for some reason, once I even get wind of the visit--usually the evening before since Maman et Papa start behaving in a guilty manner--I begin to shiver uncontrollably. I do sleep through the night, but morning always brings that dread knowledge.

Luckily once there I have my own spot picked out; it's very close to the door, the Way Out. When Kelly walks by I scoot back and try to make myself as small as possible. However, there has never been a visit during which Kelly didn't hunt me down and lift me up to the Table. There, tethered and alone, with all eyes on me, I'm shorn, primped, cleaned and last but not least, the manicure.

My question for Kelly: how could you have entered this dark profession. The strange contradiction is that Maman et Papa fervently hope that Kelly will have a long, distinguished career as a dog groomer and that she will not be lured away by some Big City salon in New York, London or Paris.

Special Photography Effects

2010-10-24T09:14:00.004-05:00

My current creative project is represented by this photo. Using a variety of filters and functions, I create special effects such as the tones of old cameras and films such as Lomo and Agfa and Ilford. A variegated effect function creates the simulacrum of age and dirt. Color photos can be transformed into Sepia and black & white. Here you have my first effort. The picture was shot by Maman; I manipulated the image.

Are any of you, my faithful friends and fans, interested in photography? The art form, originally seen as in opposition to high art, then became identified with high culture, both art and industrial. Now, especially with the advent of smart phones, anyone can be a photographic artist, everyone if free to express and explore the individuality and, through social media, their connections to others as well.

Don't you agree: we live in terrible and wonderful times?

Photography & Multi-media

2010-10-20T08:10:00.010-05:00

As promised, the medium I've selected for my first creative endeavor: photography with a kind of collage of special effects.

In photo one, I've re-engineered this picture of Maman to evoke a variety of mental images: possessed borg, oil slick on city street, Soylent Green.

Photo 2 [below] highlights the changing focus over human history from body to mind, but without judgment as to whether this is a positive or negative trend. It also suggests travel through time and space, posing the question: is such travel actual or is it a mental/chemical process? Notice the rays that extend from head and lips, from front & back and perhaps especially from the eye. Are those eyes, the physical Eye, the mind's eye, perhaps a metaphorical I?

I hope you enjoy this first evidence of my talents as a photographer and multi-media artist. Check back soon for other efforts. And feel free to share your reactions, interpretations or even your own art work by clicking the comments link.

Hiatus

2010-10-14T08:22:00.005-05:00

As all my actor friends know, we describe our time between gigs as resting. And resting is what I've been doing since my last blog entry.

Attribute it to the hot & humid weather, the absence of 30,000+ college students, or merely a general malaise, I've not felt the energy nor the desire to update my blog.

But as the fall weather blew into Athens (and all those students rematerialized turning my street into a parking lot once more), I realized how terribly selfish I've been.

To you, my faithful fans & friends, I offer a humble apology. I'm sorry that I've let you down. To my grandparents, who are probably my least critical readers, a special word of thanks for your patience.

This fall I shall be exploring the world of creative arts, mine and others. Look for my first project, coming soon: a collage the subject of which is humans in a dog's world. My 2nd project, also in the works, dovetails nicely with the collage since it explores the same topic through the genre of poetry.

I hope this long hiatus will not deter you from checking back from time to time. I promise to share my newly rediscovered creative productivity throughout the fall season & culminating with my very favorite holiday. Christmas! When once again Santa will read my letter & grace my home with his presence. And presents.

I am a Miniature!

2010-06-29T07:48:00.011-05:00

Self reflection has the potential for positive and negative outcomes. On the one hand, self reflection leads to personal and spiritual growth. But it can also enmesh one in a tangled web of doubt and even despair.

My own contemplation has led to a surprising result: physical growth.

Yes, I exaggerate. However, I've discovered that far from the toy poodle tag with which I was branded by the American Kennel Association and contrary to my lineage which runs to the toy category, I am a Miniature!

Physical size tends to be the qualifier forthe toy, miniature and standard poodle descriptor. My first suspicions were aroused when I learned that my breeder told Maman et Papa that my top weight was expected to be 8.5 pounds. Patently ridiculous for I am now at a comfortable 12. I searched the AKC official poodle book for qualifying measurements and rechecked the information on the AKC web site . Honesty compels me to note that according to the measurements taken at my doctor's office, I seem to be on the toy-miniature cusp. At first this seemed an insurmountable barrier to true self knowledge.

Further contemplation suggested that proper assessment comprises qualitative as well as quantitative values. Among the qualitative values: strength, self-possession, tough demeanor with a heart of gold, a light and springy gait, willingness to help the little chap and challenge the oppressor, large intellect and a sizable girth, etc.

As most of you already know, I possess all these qualities in abundance.

In the end, self reflection was a highly positive experience leading from restricted self knowledge through an identity crisis to a fully realized sense of the true me.

Now no longer under the false impression that I'm a toy poodle, I proclaim my newly acquired knowledge to the multitudes (and to my faithful fans & friends): I am a Miniature!

Note: Strangely & despite what I regard as the fruits of my self reflection, Papa still thinks I'm a toy poodle with the bark of a standard, and Grandpere advises that I wear a Western hat rather than a pink polka-dotted one.

Many Happy Returns of the Day

2010-06-21T14:59:00.006-05:00

Today is my 5th birthday. According to my birth certificate, which lists my parents, grandparents, etc. back to the fourth generation, I am the last in a long, prestigious line of red & apricot toy poodles.

However, documents may be forged, no? Mama informs me that I'm too tall and too portly to be considered a toy poodle. So, from this day forward, just call me Miniature Mercury Murphy Roushanzamir.

Surely each birthday evokes a certain amount of self examination along with concerns about identity: toy/miniature, nurture/nature, culture of origin/adopted culture, and so on.

But equally if not more importantly, birthdays bring Gifts & Presents. I love gifts & presents. And I appreciate them, each and every one. Presents should be wrapped in tissue paper, preferably tied up with a pretty ribbon. I love gift wrapping and I appreciate each gift and present wrapping (and unwrapping). It is so sweet that my friends and fans, my Maman et Papa, grandmere et granpere are thinking of me on my birthday; and should you need just a bit of assistance in the gifts & presents department, read on.

My birthday list:

Handmade doggie IQ-test toy (real wood)

Doggie Casino Brainy Board Game

ARFgyle Dog sweater (for celebration when the hideous heat & humidity ends)

Eco dog personalized place mat

Dream Dog toy

Meteorite LED ball dog toy

May your day on this, my birthday, be as happy as mine is and continues to be. Cheers from your friend on my special day with many happy returns of this day for us all.

Tender is the Night

2010-05-13T07:58:00.021-05:00

Meet my close personal friend, Sophie, who recently joined her jet-set friend on the Cote d'Azur where she is attending and reporting on the Cannes Film Festival.

If you click on her name in the previous paragraph, you'll be directed to her Chicago Sun-Times blog which she keys at the request of noted film critic Roger Ebert [read his own Cannes journal].

Of course, the Riviera is a particularly lovely part of my native France, about which people simply gush, "Location, Location, Location." Human beings are spell bound by the colors, the climate, the beaches, the water, the "picturesque natives," and the glitterati. The Riviera forms the background of many famous films--To Catch a Thief--and novels--Tender is the Night. Even George Simenon could not resist sending his hero, the incomparable Maigret, to noodle out the cause of death of a former French resistance worker in Maigret on the Rivera.

Ah, the Cote d'Azur nights, balmy, gently breezy, the frequent sightings of both the quirkily dramatic and the utterly simple haute couture, dazzling diamonds and moonlight, the food, wine, the tender trembling moments when life seems to hang in balance between the earthly and the sublime-- but perhaps these are subjects for my own future blogs.

Dear friends and fans, I hope you will check Sophie's blog regularly. She is an excellent writer, a keen observer, and a practiced participant at the Cannes film festival with a broad and deep knowledge of films both classic and contemporary. Equally important, she is a young woman for whom I have a deep affection, respect, and admiration. Indeed, I love her very much.

Although she asked me to accompany her on this great adventure, I was unable to comply. For much as I miss my international and Hollywood film friends and know that my presence would be of great service to Sophie, Maman and Papa need me more. Without me, their simple Athens lives would doubtless fall into chaos and that is something that duty no less than affection will not permit. So I must be satisfied with these Chicago Sun-Times images of the Cote d'Azur and my darling Sophie, and the "Sophie Kohn from Cannes blog." Read her first entry, A Market Badge of One's Own [such a clever title], now and return frequently for updates [to her blog & to mine!].

Lullaby and Good Night

2010-04-15T09:50:00.009-05:00

Bed time is always a special time. Although not for the reasons you may think. The first challenge is to avoid PJs, a trick performed only through practice and repetition. Here, for example, you see one of my failures.

On the bright side, I watch pre-bed time television. And stay up for as late as Maman et Papa will allow. The trick with television is to commandeer the remote. This photo shows a successful attempt. From there on it's clear sailing (so to speak). I choose the channel, I choose the shows. Saturday night's English comedy night; my favorite, Keeping Up Appearances. Law & Order is on some channel on almost every night. As for "reality television" I choose What Not to Wear and Millionaire Matchmaker.

All good things must end (again, so to speak). Eventually Maman et Papa insist on putting me to bed. They expect me to cuddle & lick, they croon and talk baby talk, and finally through sheer exasperation if nothing else I fall asleep.

Of course I don't know what I'm missing, but I'm convinced wild and wonderful things occur.

Little Lucy Visits

2010-03-11T16:11:00.012-05:00

As you'll note from the photo, I've been napping and catching up with my zzzzz's after a thrilling spring break weekend. Little Lucy, aka Lucy Robins, flew into town from Boston, accompanied by Melinda, her Maman. [see other photo]

I've known Lucy long-distance for several years but this was our first face-to-face. Maman has known Melinda for a couple of decades! Maman et Papa love Melinda and Lucy. Perfect set up for a wonderful few doggie-centered days.

What we did: ate. watched the Oscar's. walked. slept. played. ran & jumped in the UGA intramural fields. requested special treats. Need I say more? Every element of a perfect fun-filled weekend.

What I learned about Lucy: her weight, 9lbs. personality, alpha dog. talents, goes for a walk off leash. Adventuresome & adapts well to unfamiliar & challenging situations. Willing to travel tourist class even though she's a first-class kind of girl.

Lucy revealed a lot about her life in Melrose (the town near Boston where Lucy's house is located). She occasionally travels into the city to give a lecture at Emerson College after which she lunches at the Ritz and then indulges in a postprandial stroll through the Boston Gardens. On days at home, she rests, roots out dropped bits of food, gazes out the windows, dips into a murder mystery (she prefers those by Georges Simenon or the English police procedural genre) and then rests when her eyes get tired from reading. She asserts her alpha personality when necessary -- which is infrequent since she established her requirements on her initial interview with Melinda. Few variations to those established routines of home life occur.

Lucy enjoys long walks, rainy days spent indoors, prefers Italian to Mexican foods, and swing to punk. Favorite film star: Asta. Favorite color: red (like her coat). She enjoys a cuddle but she also treasures alone time.

I love Lucy now that I've met her face-to-face even more than I loved her long-distance. She's my best pal. I'm so happy that she accepted my gift to her, the royal-purple bed that becomes her so well.

Hope

2010-02-23T11:37:00.007-05:00

Dear Friends & Fans,

This is a meditation on Hope. I celebrate the quality of Hope which passes by all depression, sadness, dire circumstances and bad behavior.

Hope leads me to expect many meals and more desserts each day. Perhaps I'm not altogether worthy; I certainly get more than my share. But, beautifully prepared and served is the food that I enjoy each day.

Hope springs eternal (or very close to it) that Maman will not force or even encourage me to wear doggie clothes. Doggie clothes are not really for doggies nor are they really clothing -- they gape in embarrassing places.

Each month I hope that I won't have to go to Doggie Shapes. For as much as I like Kelly's company, unspeakable things happen at Doggie Shapes. Enough said.

Hope is the light that lets me imagine that I will spend all the days of my life with Maman et Papa and that each day to come will be as joyful as those already lived.

My wish for you is that Hope also lights your life and shows you the way through any darkness you may encounter.

Love, Mercury Murphy Roushanzamir

On a winning streak

2010-02-17T15:33:00.014-05:00

Reuters photo staff [Shannon Stapleton/Reuters] can be credited with capturing this winsome endearing picture of Sadie, the Westminster Best in Show winner 2010. But where was Reuters when I struck the poses and performed the stunts that remain alas known only to a lucky few? Where was Reuters when, newly bathed and coiffed I returned home, bow on collar and smelling of a subtle combination of lavender and rose?

I admit I only browsed the entire online showing of Westminster which in any case was televised over a couple of days. I had other, more pressing shows to watch. Primarily, Law & Order; my good friend, now, sadly, deceased, Jerry Orbach, plays his role of roles Lenny Briscoe. Lenny Briscoe is a fully developed character that Orbach wore like a skin. A working class man with a Catholic-Jewish childhood. A recovering alcoholic with a past littered with damaged relationships and long-borne hurts. A good cop. A good friend. A tender human being. A 20th century man. Yes, Law & Order by and large trumped the Westminster.

The poodle showing in the "Toy" category disgraced himself. No, that's not quite correct. Human beings seem determined to impose specific cuts and shapes to our naturally luxuriant hair in order to conform to their own odd whims. Yes, the dog had teased locks in front and shaved hair (none) on the rear. This look is not modern; poodles are mocked for it. But remember, poodles were long exploited as hunters and retrievers of water fowl. During those days, now consigned to a tiny historical footnote, the cut was required by the demands of the job. The 21st century makes no such demands on poodles; the Westminster--and the AKC to whom it owes allegiance--should rethink these archaic demands. Poodles everywhere would rejoice.

I titled this entry "On a winning streak" and I'll end with what's been won. Visibility on prime time television for dogs everywhere. Respect for owners who choose gourmet food, provide basic necessities & plenty of treats, heightened awareness of the importance of education and entertain for their dogs. And reminders, if such were needed, of the relevance of dogs to civil society. And finally, a comfortable seat on the couch from which to watch the dog show, mounted in NYC, and Law & Order, shot in NYC, from my safe, warm home in Athens, GA.

2010-01-31T14:09:00.005-05:00

Dear Friends & Fans & Darling Santa,

I must admit that I've made grievous errors. First and foremost, I did not write a thank you letter to Santa. What must I have been thinking of?! What disgrace have I brought down, on myself, my family, and generations to come. Even maman posted Facebook photos of the gifts I received (& had asked for) for Christmas.

But my punishment is swift and sure. Valentine's Day arrives within 2 weeks. But doggie Valentine's Day pictures appointments can be scheduled starting next Friday. Next Friday! Doubtless, the photographer will have pink and red heart fluffy necklaces or hats or back-drops. Maman has already explored the options and located a photographer's lair within a mile of our home.

To my friends and fans, but in particular to my darling Santa who granted every wish, accept my deepest apologies for the hubris and lack of loving-kindness with which I have acted, and please send messages to maman to spare me the indignities of doggie Valentine's Day portraits.

Dear Santa!

2009-12-06T09:27:00.012-05:00

Dearest, darling Santa,

How are you these days? I am fine and furthermore I am very good indeed. In the spirit of the season and to be perfectly honest I will list my good & bad behaviors over the course of 2009. You can be the judge as to whether my Christmas wishes--also listed below--will be fulfilled.

On the bad side: one or two infractions must be admitted, to wit: occasional paper eating, but it's really not my fault. Papa leaves his newsletters in tempting, easy-to-reach places. And sometimes Maman forgets to close the bathroom gate, thus permitting access to wonderful, marvelous toilet paper. What fun that is, to pull it round and round, draping it over carpets and furniture until the roll is finally all used up. But, I digress. And is it my fault if I assume that a chair pushed out at the dining table is meant for me to sit on? Finally, and perhaps worst, I'll admit to a couple (well, 3) tiny accidents indoors. But can something called an accident be considered "bad behavior?" I don't think so.

My Very Good Behavior: first I've followed your advice-- I don't shout, I don't cry, I don't pout. Ever. I'm not a picky eater. I go to bed on time. I defend the house, and Maman & Papa, vigorously. I allow Maman to put sweaters and coats and dresses on me no matter when or why. I behave graciously to guests, both dog and human. I share my toys. I have learned to follow some new commands. I always bring joy and love into the lives of Maman & Papa. I could proffer many other examples of my good behavior, both waking & sleeping, but I know you see me and frankly that you already know that I've been good, for goodness sake. So, now my list of Christmas gifts, best first, then in descending order.

For Mercury:

--Microsuede Cozy Cave in red

--a Crypton Throw pillow in papaya

--an ARFgyle bone, Christmas version

--a Pine o' Plenty interactive toy

--a Barker's Bounty Gift Bucket (small dog size)

--a 6" retro Santa toy which will remind me of you all year long

--a car seat (don't worry about this one, Santa; Maman insisted I include it on my list)

Because I am such a very very good doggie, I've agreed to include Papa's and Maman's lists too.

For Papa:

--a Mercedes (the bigger, the better and fully loaded) Please note that Papa asked for this last year to no avail. I attest on his behalf that his behavior could be catagorized as Exemplary.

--new shoes, both practical & stylish

--a custom tailored jacket and 2 custom fitted shirts

--a cashmere sweater

--a big box of gold-wrapped Christmas chocolates

For Maman:

--black cowboy boots with silver tips

--a camel hair coat

--a Burberry scarf

--Burberry perfume

--a $100 gifts certificate for iPhone apps

In conclusion, darling Santa, I love you so much. I tell everyone I know all about you, not only during the Christmas season, but all year long. I am your most faithful, loyal friend and fan. Do you read my blog during the year? I hope so. I will leave your favorite cookies & some milk on the coffee table in the living room; help yourself. And even though I know I'm supposed to be asleep when you come to our house, I will try to stay awake to welcome you to the Roushanzamir home.

I love you with all my heart, always your friend,
Mercury Murphy Roushanzamir

PS: I'd also like a new, bigger Christmas stocking. ;- D
Also, I found this delightful image of you at:

www.santaclaus.com/forums/viewtopic.php?f=21...

Mercury's Breakfast

2009-11-16T12:19:00.006-05:00

Now that I'm attending university, it's imperataive that I nourish both mind & body before embarking on my arduous day. I asked Maman to snap this shot as it exemplifies Every Morning.

Note first of all the coffee cup to my right. Maman presented it to me upon admission to school because she acquired it at a scholarly conference in New Orleans many years ago. In fact, it was a gift to her, a recognition of the value of her participation at that conference. Of course it's Papa who prepares the coffee. He uses a percolater which makes the coffee very strong and very hot. He also feeds me either buttered toast or crumpet with marmalade.

Then there're the morning papers. Because one needs to know, I first read the Athens Banner-Herald. While perhaps lacking in general news coverage and incisive editorial comment, the AB-H describes Athens happenings thoroughly indeed. The New York Times covers its deficiencies.

Luckily for me I've developed the skill of doing several things at once. For I also watch the national news on CNN and/or NBC. If you look carefully you can see the CNN logo in the background. And sometimes I choose to read a book or substitute a video (vintage Perry Mason?) for the news. You can see my dvd collection behind and to the right.

I sometimes wonder if you, my loyal fans and friends, enjoy an equally pleasurable morning each day. I can only hope that you do and that you'll take the opportunity a blog affords of sharing your experiences. Please click the Comments button below.

With my kindest regards, Mercury Murphy Roushanzamir

Mercury attends university

2009-10-05T08:24:00.005-05:00

Friends and Fans, you may remember that I attended dog prep school some years ago. After a gap year (or two) I commited my time & energies to returning to school. I have chosen the University of Georgia-Athens and there I was welcomed with open arms as a University Fellow. University Fellows (and sisters?) are the creme de la creme of the student body. Seminar-size classes, visits from the famous and the infamous among American, European, Middle Eastern, African and Asian scholars, and trips abroad each year describe the arc of our educational experiences.

This term my courses are: film history, social psychology: dogs & man, European Intellectual history: mid to late 20th century, and medieval philosophy (part I). I hope to complete a major in modern European history with a concentration on British & French history.

I bought many books and have located others on the internet. My computer skills have certainly come in handy since so much of our coursework & research exploits the resources of the world wide web. (I must admit that the www has its distractions: youtube, blogging (!), social networking, to name only 3, etc.)

I have encountered a cadre of like-minded and like-aged students (broadening my circle away from the strictly home life) with whom I share after hours merriment. Perhaps I'll keep the specifics under wraps.

Finally I must thank Maman et Papa for funding my (re)entry into scholarship as well as the State of Georgia's Hope Scholarship and the University Fellows program.

Check back for more details & stories of my higher educational career.

Mercury debuts

2009-08-09T17:01:00.010-05:00

I've long pursued an acting career, attending classes, studying methods, and watching actors whom I admire carefully and closely. But how could I anticipate that my debut film would win the Palme D'or at Cannes! True it may be, in part, Mama's delicate yet sophisticated direction & shooting. Papa, in the supporting role, quite ably represented his character's persona. But [and it is I in the starring role] the film's success turns on me and, the sheer power of my performance quite simply overwhelmed the distinguished judges. Presented here for the first time to a mass audience, I hope you enjoy my maiden film, Mercury at The Intermurals.

Happy Birthday

2009-06-25T08:59:00.006-05:00

I would be remiss if I were to neglect noting that yesterday was my birthday. Birthdays can be moments of both celebration & reflection. At least such is the case for me.

I was born in the state of Idaho which is very far from my home in Athens, GA. I have forgotten my birth mom. Only my AKC registration provides a clue as to her existence [also naming my father, grandparents and great-grandparents]

My life here has its ups and downs. Papa feeds me treats at every turn, takes me out for a ride in the car every weekend, and spoils me rotten. Mama exercises and disciplines me and only afterwards does she shower me with affection. An example: the photograph pictures me in the new role Mama is trying to force on me, i.e. that of Helper Dog. [a Helper Dog is one who, contrary to all laws of dog and nature, lives to assist the chosen human, to work for her, to protect her, and etc. in exchange for which the human says "good dog."]

Despite what can only be called the "mixed bag" of living in the Roushanzamir household, my birthday was a day of rejoicing. Special care was lavished on me, special endearments, spoken. I felt truly loved, even adored [therefore not missing the cake with candles that should, rightfully, have appeared].

After Kelly: beauty & terror

2009-06-04T15:28:00.020-05:00

Kelly (see her pictured above with Virgil) is the proprietor/master stylist of Doggie Styles, the posh salon selected by Maman et Papa for my every 6-weekly grooming. Kelly combines the qualities of a good friend --sympathy, loyalty, brains, humor-- with the finely honed skills of a beauty specialist.

Every visit to Doggie Styles comprises a wealth of experiences: bathing, trimming, manicure, comraderie with dogs & people, etc. It all sounds grand.

However: in all honesty I have admittedly mixed feelings about the 6-weekly visit to Doggie Styles. Yes, I meet old and new friends as each of us endure our cleansing rituals. Yes, I learn & continue to hone my dog socialization skills. Yes, I emerge a cleaner & prettier dog. Yes, Kelly is a wonderful woman amongst women.

But suffice to say that for at least 5 days following my visit to Doggie Styles, terror grips me. Post-salon visit & after each successive early morning walk, I rush to the Roushanzamir house door begging to be let in and begging not to be thrust into the car with Papa who might, just might, drop me at Doggie Styles on his way to work. (If it can happen once, it can happen repeatedly.)

Finally (and it may seem contrarily), let it be said that I recommend Doggie Styles (as does Maman). If you long for a superior bathe & style, call Kelly and tell her Mercury really loves her & recommends her highly.

Doggie Styles Inc

2021 S Milledge Ave
Athens, GA 30605

(706) 546-5393‎

Double Dog Darling

2009-05-23T16:51:00.011-05:00

Here, a photograph of some of my favorite people: Sophie & Pam Kohn, grandmere Manijeh Kalantari, and my own Papa, Saeid Roushanzamir. Missing from this photo are my many Iranian relatives and (few) American relatives, Lily Kohn, and obviously my Maman who took the picture. I, of course, am at the Center.

People are frail and flawed creatures. Tender of heart, strict of practice (exercise, discipline, affection). And through it all, sanguine creatures who view optimisim as a virtue.

Perhaps because of these characteristics, Maman has created a new "pet name" for me: double dog darling.

It references a 1950s childhood practice: the double dog dare. The double dog dare is issued in an attempt to up the ante; it's not as commanding as the triple dog dare which (perhaps) exceeds the limits of polite behaviour.

In any case, calling me the double dog darling is Maman's meek attempt at humor. Yes, I'm a darling. Yes, I'm double the darlingness of most doggies. So I accept the nick-name even as I mock its origin. After all, does a dog with the name of Mercury Murphy Roushanzamir really need a pet name?

BTW, apologies to those of you await my entries eagerly and with baited breath. Writers block has held me within its viscious grip. But my thoughts are always with you (each & every one of you) as are my hopes that you're celebrating life and loving it.

Noo Ruz Goodies

2009-03-24T11:46:00.014-05:00

My American friends & fans may not know that Noo Ruz is a time for giving gifts, especially to youngsters. I sincerely hope & trust that you will remember this next year. Gifts may include, but are not limited to, new clothing, toys, bones and other desirable objects.

Below I show off my Noo Ruz goodies which range across the spectrum of acceptable presents. For example, the newest addition to my wardrobe is this shocking pink collar. Accompanying it is a pastel pink 6-foot leash. Together their colors dazzle the eye and attract attention to, what Maman calls, "my stunning beauty." New toys are also a crucial part of the Noo Ruz celebration. Below view photos of my new ball, treat-in-the-toy, and bone.

I would call this Noo Ruz accumulation of presents a partial success. I was not given a red University of Georgia t-shirt. I only received 1 bone. True, I have a new ball, but I'd like a soccer ball as well. At least Maman did not buy me a car seat which she has been threatening to do!

So the season of spring time has been ushered in by the delightful holiday of Noo Ruz. See the photo below -- I chose to shoot the holiday flowers against the background of a world map. This is my way of proclaiming to the world: happy new year, may it bring you happiness & health, prosperity & peace.

Love to my faithful friends and fans, Mercury

Noo Ruz

2009-03-19T15:05:00.009-05:00

Tomorrow is the Persian New Year called Noo Ruz, a happy holiday shared with friends & family. We will wear new clothes (in my case a new collar), watch the goldfish swim next to our plate of spouts, and we'll eat dill-lima bean rice & fish.

Perhaps in acknowledgment of Noo Ruz, the winds in Athens blow warmly, trees are in bloom and flowers are poking up from the ground. What a beautiful, wonderful way to celebrate the new year.

Check out other Noo Ruz ecards each of which portrays a beautiful aspect of this festival (click the link). Please check out the web site because aside from the pretty pictures you can select Persian music to accompany your ecard.

To all my fans & friends, Noo Ruz Mobarak!

The Gift

2009-02-28T14:13:00.007-05:00

Marcel Mauss wrote The Gift, considered a classic among anthropological works, in which he studied the relation between forms of exchange and social structure. While I cannot hope to attain such privileged status, here I consider the exchange of Treats.

It's a generalization to claim that Treats are considered amongst dogs as one of the greatest items of desire. A treat is an unexpected (if longed-for) joy. When offered by Maman et Papa, I accept it in the spirit with which it is offered: love & the wish to please.

The exchange of pleasure that a Treat signifies is illustrated by the photo accompanying my entry. And, to be quite honest, the photo also illustrates a departure from Mauss' thesis. For in my life--as in the picture--, Maman et Papa offer me many Treats & I do not reciprocate. However, in the last instance, I give to my Maman et Papa a total & unconditional love, one that surpasses even the exchange of doggie Treats.

Letter to Santa, Christmas 2008

2008-12-20T17:14:00.015-05:00

Dear, Darling Santa,

Remember me?

I've waited abominably long this year to write my letter. However, let's cut to the chase: brief & to the point. I've been good all year long, whether sleeping or waking, I haven't cried nor have I begged, nor pouted. [no time to present the evidence; please take my word for it.]

Therefore with confidence, I offer my Christmas list and, as proof of my selfless [almost] nature, I've include lists for Maman et Papa. [I can only assume and sincerely hope that these lists truly reflect their desires.]

What I want for Christmas:

1 octopus stuffed toy

as many balls as possible

some tasty dental treats

and the biggest raw-hide bone available

Affection-Affection-Affection Papa's list:

1 Mercedes [C-series]

1 fancy crystal bowl

1 valuable antique

shirts that don't shrink [note: Maman does the laundry....]

Dearest Maman's list:

a fancy dress in cloth of gold

an iPhone [twice the speed, 1/2 the price]

a European cake

Harry Winston jewelry
[don't look in the Paris store which, just in case you don't know, was knocked over & cleaned out by world-class thieves]

Dearest Santa, I love you very much and think of you all year long. I hope you fulfill all of our wishes. But please do note that my requests are the most modest, therefore [I assume] the most probable.

By the way, if you prefer certain kinds of cookies, or a beverage other than milk with which to refresh yourself before you leave our home, please let me know by writing a comment on my blog.

With all due respect and ever so much love, your friend Mercury Murphy

Yes We Can: my vote counted

2008-11-06T08:19:00.006-05:00

Pal JPEG

2008-10-27T09:15:00.017-05:00

Finally, after an unacceptably (and unaccountably) long delay, Maman et Papa invited JPEG, Amy and Peter to dine. Amongst the toasts, mutual admiration, and critical commentary (that seems to be how humans communicate, i.e. lots of talk-talk), JPEG & I were able to relax and simply enjoy one another's company.

We sniffed each other, exchanged a few bawdy stories, commiserated as the humans blandished endearments towards us, and so forth.

The pickings were good: pistachios, Mexican beef, Iranian-influenced tofu, chips with cheese, ice cream. Trust Maman et Papa to provide a copious spread.

JPEG teaches me new tricks, patiently taking my size into account. And he runs wildly, exuberantly through the house, locates lost toys, and in short, is a firm friend. I admire him more than I can say.

Cheers, JPEG, this one's for you. Please return soon & frequently to your friend, Mercury

Relaxing, Eating, & Writing

2008-10-17T15:35:00.011-05:00

I've been struck by the frequency with which my best writing comes after a relaxing snooze or a beautiful and tasty meal. Finally I've decided to analyze how & why such is the case & to share my findings with you, my loyal friends & fans.

Relaxing: Lounging around frees the mind to hear and see, smell and feel the sounds, sights, and experiential aspects of life too often ignored in our get-ahead-quickly world. From the vantage point of my bed, I explore a world of ideas untapped as I go about my daily round.

Eating: What's finer than a great meal, loving prepared and loving appreciated? A gourmet probably figures as the happiest being in life, savoring the subtle flavors of a fantastic meal, leaning back for sparkling conversation, drinking a superb wine while appreciating its subtle scents and colors. Each meal, a work of art.

Writing: When the body is soothed and the senses stimulated, therein lies the premium state of being for creating a thoughtful, well written (dare I say?) masterpiece.

Friends & fans, I can only recommend you follow my example, for whether you write a chef d'oeuvre or a letter home to your Maman et Papa, relaxing & eating are your pathway to success.

Please send your own stories about the value of relaxing & the pleasures of eating by clicking the comments option below.

'Til next time, your friend Mercury Murphy

Do Dogs Smile?

2008-09-21T10:49:00.004-05:00

I enjoy a walk through the neighborhood with Mama. Sometimes, as I become winded, I open my mouth revealing my (well cared-for) teeth. When this happens Mama looks at me and says:

"Oh, you're smiling, you're so cute & darling, that makes me so happy, you make me smile too."

At home I contemplate the age-old dog question. Why must human beings anthropomorphize dogs?

We are not human beings and although domesticated, we share very little of their means of communication. For example, humans seem to use their voices excessively while dogs communicate through body language and subtle glances.

Do dogs smile? I suppose it's all in the eyes, and the intentions, & beliefs, of the beholders. Yes, I enjoy the walks with Mama, and on the weekends the special treat, walks with Mama et Papa. But my facial expression corresponds to my elevated heart-beat rate. As a point of information, dogs may work out, but we do not sweat.

I shall ever wonder at the apparent need for humans to believe that dogs share their own characteristic behaviors and emotions. And perhaps I pity them for their incessant desire to find among a higher species shared communication patterns.

Defense

2008-09-07T12:00:00.005-05:00

A dog's life involves responsibilities and concomitant dangers. Here's an example.

First, to put it in its context, one of my responsibilities is to protect our house and property. Another is to watch over the neighborhood more generally.

Second, we live at a busy T-intersection. Many cars, school buses, small trucks and delivery vans speed by daily. Furthermore, the sidewalks provide tree-lined pathways for neighbors and students from the nearby high school. Walkers, joggers, bikers, parents pushing prams, etc.

I trust this sketch wil help you comprehend the example I shall now relate:

This morning, a gray and blustery morning, I was outdoors on the porch with Mama. A Large Dog, wearing a collar but no tags, broke into our space, approaching the screened porch and rampaging around our property. He said he wanted to play, but why should I believe him? I knew what I had to do--first the low growl, then the full-out bark.

"Arf, arf," I cried.

The Large Dog opened his mouth and showed off his tongue.

"Arf, arf," I shouted.

After several returns of this sort, the Large Dog ran away. And I chalked up another success in the dangerous but satisfying job with which I am trusted.

Nostalgia

2008-08-20T11:25:00.007-05:00

The July 21, 2006 entry presents my curriculum vita. There you will learn that I graduated from Pawtropolis.

What you may not know is that I took a summer session at Oxford University, Jesus College.

Now, as the weather begins to cool, I think of that brilliant Oxford summer: the intellectual stimulation, the fascinating history of the town & of Jesus College, the diversity of experiences, and yes, the ever changing, always lovely weather. Trips to London, to the Cotswolds villages, to heritage sites, and more. How I long to walk again the nooks & crannies, to find the unexpected used book store or charity shop. How I value the small mementos with which I returned.

I have visited England several times and accompanied Mama to Paris & Versailles. But it is that summer at Jesus College that remains a cornerstone of the best times of my life.

I can wish nothing better for you, my loyal friends & fans, the opportunity to visit England and, if possible, to study in Oxford.

Cyborg?

2008-08-08T08:30:00.013-05:00

William Gibson wrote Neuromancer in 1984, years before the internet became one of our main means of communication. I first read it while relaxing in my bed (the one that looks like the sort of shoe they call mules) and I was blown away by my first encounter with cyber-punk science fiction.

Now I'm considering the meaning of Cyborg. I found this definition, among many others, by conducting a "define: cyborg" google search:

"a human who has certain physiological processes aided or controlled by mechanical or electronic device"

My Mama et Papa love the TV show, Star Trek: the next generation. The borg play an increasingly important role, threatening the galaxy, if not the universe, with their version of complete freedomWhat about the term "borg?"

"The Borg are a fictional pseudo-race of cyborgs depicted in Star Trek.....
depicted as an amalgam of cybernetically enhanced humanoid drones of multiple species, organized as an inter-connected collective with a hive mind...."*

The photos above serve 2 functions. The first:

I wouldn't want to disappoint my friends & fans by omitting a recent portrait.

Second:

Has the human brain changed radically, or even partially to resemble, not the first photo above, but the 3rd? What would be the implications of this transformation for me in particular and dogs in general? Please feel free to add your thoughts on these topics by clicking comments below.

*quoted from wikipedia. I have included their links which you can click on with my disclaimer.

Days of the Dog

2008-08-07T08:34:00.007-05:00

Let's think about this for a moment.
Calumny towards dogs appears to be rampant.

Common Sayings
Only Mad Dogs and Englishmen go out in the mid-day sun
Dog Days of Summer

Film titles
Reservoir Dogs
How to Kill Your Neighbors Dog
Straw Dogs

Why pick on ever-faithful dogs while others of the animal kingdom are lauded. Check out the Lion King or even (see my title) Night of the Iguana. In that last film, the never-faithful iguana is set free; the former was so popular that a Broadway musical was created based solely on a children's cartoon.

In short, although mankind claims that his--or her--dog combines the qualities of companion, physician, and valued family member, the idiom of the English language suggests otherwise.

I recommend that people carefully examine their speech habits and frankly, mend their ways.

What's in My Name?

2008-08-05T10:40:00.007-05:00

What's in my name? Perhaps you've wondered how I received the name Mercury Murphy Roushanzamir. Read the entry of August 12, 2006, or enjoy this, a shorter version, in which some new facts are brought to light.

The breeder who sent me across country to Mama et Papa had named me "Ellie Mae," a ludicrous name and yet a fortunate one. For Mama was drawn to me as we shared the same first name [although spelled differently].

Mama et Papa knew that Ellie Mae would certainly never fit my personality; it struck them as both silly and undignified. And recognizing my heritage, i.e. French, Irish, and Persian they considered deeply and well.

Murphy, of course, reflects my Irish background and was chosen in deference to my Grandpere's wishes. Roushanzamir,obviously, my family name.

Freddie Mercury , of Queen, was the inspiration for my given name. For Freddie Mercury was a Persian, grew up in England, and was bravely creative, becoming a world renowned musician and artist.

Multi-cultural, highly creative, and equally productive, an artist of great talent, an iconoclast, these characteristics describe Freddie Mercury, just as they dovetail with my own intellectual and psychological circumstances.

Faithful Fans & Friends, I hope you will take a moment to explore the link highlighted at Freeddie Mercury's name above. He was a hero to many and I am his namesake.

For the longer story of the origins of my name, Mercury Murphy Roushanzamir, click the keyword Freddie Mercury [below].

Song of Tehran, Rejoicing, Part 3

2008-07-29T08:12:00.012-05:00

Greetings:

Here is the final part of my poem; my own favoritesection is the footnote!

Song of Tehran, Rejoicing

This song will end, with rejoicing,
as desires, not covered and poverty, embattled while unfelt.
Education sought. Enlightenment explored.
Joyful gatherings exchanged. And the food, glorious food.*1

Sing the phases of the day. And amongs it all I [re]trod Tehran's present cross-roads to Mehrabad International.
Overwhelmed with foot, relatives, geography, history, current events, joy, And finally you, Husband to whom I dedicate this song, Saeid, rejoicing.

*1. Break of day/6:30AM: Melita-brewed coffee, filter & coffee traveled from the States.

Breakfast/ 8AM: Sugared tea, feta cheese, barbari, nutella.

Lunch/2PM: Horesht Badamjun, rice with tadik, vegetable, Coca Cola, water, doorgh, sugared tea.

Dinner/10PM: Gormeh Sabsi, rice with takik, vegetable, Coca Cola, water, doorgh, sugared tea.

Guests' Meal/Anytime between 3-11PM: banana, apple, cucumber, kiwi, pastry, candies, sugared tea.

Please feel free to send your own poems by clicking on comments below or send them to Mama's email address & she'll post them for you.

Your friend, M2

Song of Tehran, Rejoicing, Part 2

2008-07-28T09:18:00.010-05:00

Song of Tehran, Rejoicing, Part 2

Now it's time: Mehrabad to Ahvaz.
Iranian Airlines serves a hot meal on china.
And landing one hour later, the oil fields, haze of 100-degrees farenheit mingle with the
pollution that supports the city. Ahvaz.

Foremost, Mamajun, mother-in-law, sisters, brothers, nephews,
nieces. Rejoice cousins, aunts, uncles, boys & girls, teens and parents and all you
children, rejoice.
In the midst of flowers and food and years of talk, rejoice.

Dare I name each? Let's begin:
Manijeh
Saeid
Massoud & Manujher &Fariba & Shireen & Katy & Mushtaba,
Ali, Ashkan, Shakiba, Sharia, Sharzad!
(The infamous) Parsa & Golsa.
And begin again: Amu Hassan Aragh, with the '38 Vespa & Ameh Pooran his wife.,
Mother of Dariush who's married to Fariba, step mom of Pegah, mother of Parisa.
And my friend Mossein with his hip shop, "Hello!"
Nikoo who paints with a deep-light touch.
Trippy Ali Yazdanian, latterly of India and now publishing his works of art stled
as 21st century "revolutionary spectrums."

Only 75% omitted.
Tehran, Ahvaz, Brougherd, Doorod, the mountains in between and
Isfahan.
Over 75% omitted.

Faithful Readers, please return soon to read the concluding verse of my poem about Iran & my Persian family written from the perspective of an arm-chair traveler. As you already know Part 1 appears in the previous entry.

Cheers, from your friend, Mercury

Song of Tehran, Rejoicing Part 1

2008-07-27T07:25:00.024-05:00

My dear friends & fans, Mama et Papa have not yet seen fit to travel with me to Iran, and yet I feel I know that country as I would a distant, but precious cousin. Thus I've written a poem to share with you. Part 1 concerns Tehran. Part 2 skims Ahvaz, Brougherd, Doorood and the mountains along the western boarder. Part 3 explores my family and the food I know they'd serve me-- if they had the chance to do so. So please relax and enjoy this arm chair traveler's tribute to Iran. And note that two of the photos above were shot by my friend in Tehran, Soban, whose erudite blog, Culture & Communication, I urge you to visit.

Song of Tehran, Rejoicing
part 1

May 2005, 3 weeks before Iran's national elections.
Among protests and international nuclear oversight, stand amongst it all, The Carpet Museum,
The Museum of Contemporary Arts. Overwhelmed by happiness as I trod ancient
cross-roads,
I meet 100 close relatives, visit tourist sites and also rejoice.

Tehran. Decorated with fresh flowers
With neon sculptures in each [round] square
Tehran's symphony blares cars, cycles, messenger bikes and voices, belching smog.
One longer line for 1 loaf of sangack, a shorter one, two or more.
North Tehran in early evening cools the heat of a day's frenetic work.
Students gather relaxed, eating cooked beans and cherries, chatting amongst themselves,
sequestered from grownups' ears & eyes, boys & girls, boys with girls.

Another northern neighborhood, each apartment a penthouse. Smelling of roses,
Chanel and beckoning everyone.

Bibi [bakery] marks a central location where girls & boys walk to school and later,
run home.

Please revisit my blog soon to discover my impressions of other areas & imagined experiences in Iran, to meet those 100+ relatives, and to enjoy arm-chair traveling with me.

Yours, M²

Mercury Encounters Beauty

2008-07-24T09:12:00.010-05:00

Beauty often requires no [or little] comment. My wish for you, faithful readers, is that you encounter beauty daily.

My meal:

Computer with flowers

World map with flowers.

Me, basking in the sun.

Retraction

2008-07-22T11:21:00.010-05:00

Fans and friends: You're in for a big disappointment. I've canceled my columns on mental health/illness and migraines. My co-author, Mama, is dragging her feet over this project.

She said,"I'm far too intrigued with the subject and the sheer vastness of resources is such that no superficial treatment will suffice."

"Superficial treatment!?," I replied haughtily.

She answered only with a grin that was almost a smirk.

End of story.

At least we explored the origins of moxie and it is fair to assert that Mama has plenty of it (the chutzpa, not the beverage). For that matter so do I.

So please return for other, perhaps lighter and more entertaining blog entries in the near future. And for those who must remain disappointed here are a few resources to help you pursue your own interest in mental health/illness and migraines. (in no particular order)

Michel Foucault, Madness and Civilization.

Roy Porter, A social history of madness.

Darren Oldridge, Strange Histories.

Jeffrey M. Masson, Lost Prince.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender is the Night.

National Institute of Mental Health. "Bipolar Disorder."

and for more general information, google: mental illness NIH

Oliver Sacks, Migraine.

In closing, may you suffer neither mental illness nor migraines and I wish you the fullness of mental health and the pleasures of moxie!

Chill

2008-07-13T06:40:00.018-05:00

In the midst of my meditation & research on migraines, mental illness [health?] and moxie, I pause to think of the blessings in my life.

For example: Mama et Papa and the loving home they make for me, walks in the neighborhood, dinner guests such as Amy,Peter & JPEG, a fine & diverse home library, & etc.
But what could be better than....

a personal 1992 4-door Toyota Corolla?

What more conducive to dog-happiness than tooling down the highway, on the way to nowhere, warm breezes ruffling my ears and rural Georgia yielding up it most secret treasures?

Note in the Toyota photo the stickers on the bumper. To the right, an artifact evoking wistful memories of my 3-weeks visit to Berlin as the wall came crumbling [literally] down.

But, on the left, the mark of ownership: a picture of a poodle, my name inscribed underneath.

Truly, the Toyota Corolla is the best car in the world & the best of the best resides in my garage.

If any of you, my loyal friends & fans, have car stories that can top mine, please use the comments section at the end of this entry.

[Any Vespa owners? You're also invited to share tales of Vespa adventures. And see photo of Amu (uncle in farsi) Hassan Aragh below. He kindly treated Mama to a ride on this fabulous machine (car in farsi) And may I recommend the film, Caro Diario.]

Amu Hassan Aragh, 1930s Vespa

Migraines, Mental Health [illness] and Moxie

2008-07-10T13:09:00.013-05:00

Mama taught me that alliteration may be insidious, but used in moderation, acceptable, hence the title of today’s entry. As a title the above is misleading, since I plan to tackle each topic on separate days, beginning with the last & proceeding [?] backwards. In any case as the photo suggests, I'm in a serious mood, pondering weighty topics, and [in contrast, perhaps] dressed to the nines, i.e., dressed flamboyantly or smartly. [follow the link "dressed to the nines" for an exploration of the history of that expression]

Let’s explore the first [the last] term: MOXIE.

Backbone, fortitude, determination, guts: those are synonyms for the word moxie. As in, “A person [mentioning no names, for the present] who lives with and within mental illness and migraines with grace and without tormenting others excessively [note the qualification] has moxie.

But, moxie has another meaning, a history, if you will:

Moxie: The first carbonated soft drink to be mass-produced in the United States. It was invented by Augustin Thompson in Lowell, Massachusetts, and patented in 1876 as a medicine. It was marketed as a nerve food that would bestow the user with spunk. The Gentian root extracts use in Moxie’s production gives the beverage a bittersweet flavor with strong aftertaste. While driven off the general market due to stiff competition with corporate giants, it is still distributed in the New England States. Advertisements for Moxie can often be found within early view-cards. [follow the link at Moxie, the initial word of this paragraph]

What is Gentian root, the extract of which bestows a curative power, the Moxie’s punch? [follow the link at Gentian root, third word/s of this paragraph]

Mountain plant of which the root is used for preparing many liqueurs, aperitifs and digestives.

Are there curative powers in many liqueurs, aperitifs & digestives? Is it the root's extract or its combination with other ingredients? Are mental health/illness and/or migraines susceptible to any curative powers that may [or may not] exist?

Abrupt Ending -- a teaser for the following entries in which Mental Health/Illness [glass half full or half empty] and Migraines shall be discussed and then the 3 entries integrated in a 4th & final consideration.

Mama facebooks

2008-06-18T15:00:00.008-05:00

In the past, Mama and I spent our days together pleasantly, watching Law & Order (the original is the best) or Maigret, Perry Mason or Inspector Morse DVDs, reading, walking outdoors, or just puttering around the house.

Ah, for the good old days.

In fact, my dear friend Lucy was the inadvertant cause of the demise of our long lovely days together. Lucy's Mama, Melinda, invited mine to be her facebook friend. Many had previously invited Mama; she steadfastly refused to reply. Until Melinda's invitation. And such is Mama's respect for Melinda, that she was unable to resist returning a resounding Yes.

Now Mama is facebook addicted. She turned facebook into a verb [i.e. facebooking, facebooked...]

She has spent hours creating her profile, joining groups, contacting long lost friends, opening photo albums. Granted, as far as the last is concerned, mine was the first album and has, as I recall, the greatest number of pictures. Her albums include those dedicated to: family, former graduate students, colleague-friends, other friends, my friends, Grady at Oxford 2004, Grady at Oxford 2005, etc. If the list isn't yet endless, there's every indication that her collection of albums will continue to grow at an alarming rate. She proceeds more gingerly with groups; but one established group had no wall entries (wall! what?) nor any pictures until Mama joined.

Furthermore, as a result of Mama's direct and indirect instigation, many more friends have accepted invitations and they in turn are connecting with their long lost friends. Even Papa has (reluctantly) succumbed. Even, Grandpere!

I seem to have been relegated to 2nd class status. I watch from my computer room bed (one of my 3 beds in our home) and wait, hoping for some slight recognition, even a mere glimmer of remembrance.

I find it ironic that Mama is reading an Agatha Christie novel just now that centers around a dead character: Rosemary, for remembrance.

Loyal fans and friends, please send your special messages across time & space in your hopes that Mama's sanity and my pleasurable days will return soon. [you may notice how plaintive I look in the photo above.

Mama Writes

2008-06-14T09:20:00.009-05:00

Like me, Mama is a writer. She has published articles in academic journals such as Journal of Communication Inquiry, Critical Studies in Media Communication & Journalism & Mass Communication Quarterly to name only 3. Those papers report on research findings & draw in particular on the theoretical frameworks of British cultural studies, (post-) structuralism and the knowledge-power nexus that Foucault wrote about so eloquently. She also owes a special debt to Roland Barthes.

Page proofs for a paper to be published in Qualitative Inquiry have been corrected & returned to the editor. This works marks a departure in style although her concerns remain the same. She considers this a performance piece; the late Spaulding Gray was an inspiration.

I'd like to pay a special tribute to Mama by previewing her work for you, my loyal readers/friends. Please read the abstract below.

“Peering Through the Crack
& Good-Bye to All That:
30 years of TV, Telephones,
Sports, Drugs, Etc.”

Elli Lester Roushanzamir
University of Georgia—Athens

Social relationships are enacted and remembered through interpersonal relationships and replayed through the media as the author uses a defining personal
experience, that of her son’s drug addiction, to rethink, analyze, and resituate
herself in the world. The result draws attention to the messy juxtaposition of
social structures and policies with personal loss, grief, anger, and episodes of
joy and courage. Crack, whether drug, fissure, gibe, highlights remembered
fragments which allow the author to tell her stories in ways other than those
originally considered. As those personal stories are interwoven with public
moments such as school desegregation and changes in telecommunications
and popular culture, a social commentary is offered that defamiliarizes the
familiar, evokes rather than represents, and therefore offers the reader entry
into the narrative, the cultural critique.

Keywords: autoethnography; substance abuse; crack cocaine; popular
culture; mass media

Summer Travels: Part 1

2008-06-10T11:38:00.005-05:00

I have heard murmurings.

Whispering, Mama et Papa, mention such as: holiday, driving somewhere perhaps to Highlands, NC (where, they say, it's 20-degrees cooler), staying at a Bed & reakfast, driving their 1992 Toyota Corolla (Mama keep saying: "it's the best car in the world"), etc. etc.

The plans, which initially seemed to include me, took a turn for the worse when I overheard the euphemism Bed & Biscuit Suites. We all know what that means: they're going to board me! Me!!!

I've included a picture of Pawtropolis' suite.

To quote their from marketing pamphlet:

"Suites are complete with rugs, a full-size toddler bed and, of course, a flat-screen TV built into the wall. All suites have large windows for seeing what is going on. The suites provide a quieter environment. This is perfect for the ultimate spoiled pooch for the a dog that is very nervous or easily stressed. We are proud to offer a wide variety of movies such as; "Lady and the Tramp", "Air Bud", "The Fox and the Hound", "101 Dalmatians" and much more. Each Bed & Biscuit guest is brought to the outside potty yard four times throughout the day. Food and the potty breaks are included in the price as well as a Kong toy in their room."

Note the language: "very nervous or easily stressed," "toddler bed,"food and potty."

I am hoping that these discussions are merely the ravings of Mama et Papa, their odd response to the unbearable heat we've all been enduring.

In any case, loyal readers, I shall keep you posted.

Papa['s] Plants

2008-04-17T13:09:00.017-05:00

Every other day Papa endures the early morning humidity to water the dogwoods [beautiful name] he has planted this year & last. Which would be fine were it not for the fact that he imposes on me as a sort of jobbing gardener. Don't get me wrong. I love well-tended gardens. The parks of Paris, the home gardens in England including the famous, beautiful garden at Blenheim Palace, the manicured walkways in Williamsburg. But as for tending them myself! As Mama would say, "I don't think so." Here I include 2 pictures of Papa's dogwoods (there are 4 in all), planted & lovingly (by Papa if not by me) attended, for your pleasure.

[& please follow the links above for more information/pictures of Paris parks, English gardens, Blenheim Palace & colonial Williamsburg.]

And, by the way, a 75-year old heat record was broken in Athens, GA yesterday when the thermometer topped 102-degrees [F]/ 38.888 Celsius. That combined with the high humidity-- can anyone blame me for rejecting yard work in toto?

Manijeh Arrives

2008-02-23T16:29:00.007-05:00

The trip began at Tehran's new international airport, Imam Kohomeini, and the 1st leg ended at Charles de Gaulle, Paris. From there to Atlanta Hartsfield Jackson. The flight was booked through Air France, operated by Delta and total air hours, more than I can calculate. [It should be noted, I never did excel at math.]

Manijeh Kalantari is my Papa's Mama, my paternal grandmere. Here is her picture with the beautiful flowers that my maternal grandmere et grandpere sent Manijeh to welcome her to the USA.

Manijeh lives in Ahvaz, Iran as do Papa's brothers, sister, MamaJune, and his neices, nephews, cousins, uncles and aunts. In fact, my paternal family is quite large, a complete constrast to the petite family on Mama's side.

Manijeh likes me very much; she thinks I'm well-behaved and clever. I love Manijeh; when I'm with her I smile and wag. We are fortunate that Manijeh made the long trip to spend some time with us in Athens.

Dinner Date

2008-02-18T08:27:00.008-05:00

JPEG and I share common concerns & interests: chilled drinks with tapas after a challenging day's work; a hand (or two) of bridge accompanied by sandwiches and coffee; Mah Jong, daiquiris & some delicious (catered) titbits. On this particular evening, we sparred over raw hide, shared my Christmas snowman toy, mixed it up over presidential politics, and generally enjoyed ourselves til the people involved (Amy, Peter, Mama et Papa) called it an evening much too early. [note my red crystal drinks glass]

For more on my friend JPEG, click the subject label below.

An Appeal

2008-02-05T12:25:00.000-05:00

"Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end; then stop." ~Lewis Carrol, from Alice in Wonderland

How often has Mama said this to me! And how often I've wondered: why?

I appeal to you, my faithful friends & fans, for help as I reflect on this conundrum. Offer your insights by clicking the comments link below or email Mama at elle.roushanzamir@gmail.com (she is allowing me to share her inbox).

I love Lucy

2008-01-26T10:21:00.000-05:00

These are Lucy.

Lucy, I love you.

You are smart & clever. I'm pretty sure you Boss your home and that you run a tight ship there.

Also, au naturel or chicly groomed, you're gorgeous.

PLUS!

Sparkling personality, sly sense of humor, cunning wit and underneath all that a true capacity for love & compassion, Lucy, these are among your qualities that today's entry celebrates. Lucy, I love you so much. Your pal, M²

Fifty Nine

2008-01-16T16:23:00.003-05:00

This entry, dedicated to two favorite people for whom these photos should have special meaning.

a hint: the geographic location of the photos is significant to those people.

2nd hint: I love them very much.

3rd hint: they trod these streets in mid-January 1949 & 2008.

Do you know who they are?!

A Post Script hint: Pictured below, a relative new-comer to our mystery site (he didn't arrive 'til 1956), but he's a special favorite for (at least one of) the 2 favorite people.

Another New Year Message

2008-01-08T10:08:00.000-05:00

Enough Light for the Next Step

[Henri Nouwen]
Often we want to be able to see into the future. We say, "How will next year be for me? Where will I be five or ten years from now?" There are no answers to these questions. Mostly we have just enough light to see the next step: what we have to do in the coming hour or the following day. The art of living is to enjoy what we can see and not complain about what remains in the dark. When we are able to take the next step with the trust that we will have enough light for the step that follows, we can walk through life with joy and be surprised at how far we go. Let's rejoice in the little light we carry and not ask for the great beam that would take all shadows away.

Christmas Night

2008-01-04T10:22:00.000-05:00

Here, my long promised Christmas Night blog entry. I had planned to detail the evening's events: our exchanges of gifts, Christmas crackers, appetising dinner including home-baked cake & flamed pudding with hidden six-pence, robust caroling & story-telling, seasonal toasts.

Imagine my surprise: Words Fail Me.

[caption, above: family holiday with Pam & The Girls]

[caption, below: Pam & Lily]

[caption: Saeid & Sophie]

[caption: All the Girls]

May the happiness of this Christmas Night abide in our hearts throughout the new year.

Welcome, 2008

2008-01-01T09:52:00.000-05:00

Conscientious bloggers incessantly search for the appropriate combination of words & visuals with which to express their sentiments. Therefore, as you will imagine, the hunt for an image to precisely express my new year message began some time ago.

I was looking for something bold, an object of beauty, yet a useful thing, for something extravagant and simple.

And yet, that hunt went unrewarded until last night: New Year's Eve. Here's the story:

Mama et Papa Call It A Day everyday at the cocktail hour and late-night partying is, for them, passe. [BTW, Mama insists that "to party" is not a verb that belongs in the English language; she's so mid-20th century, pauvre Mama.] Thus, our new year's eve party was scheduled for 5PM & restricted to a highly select [eccentric?] guest list.

The drinks offered excluded champagne [not only the norm at new year's eve parties, but my favored tipple, although I occasionally indulge in an inspirational pre-blogging vodka martini] but included ginger ale and Fuze (don't ask), as well as the old standards, i.e., beer, scotch and vodka. The menu: roast pork loin, roast potatoes, steamed green beans, yogurt-wth-cucummber, garlic bread, and mixed greens with honey-truffles-mustard-oil&vinegar dressing. Cheeses, nuts and dried fruits. [The surprise featured chef: Mama]

Here's The Kicker

Was it sheer serendipity that Ruth & George brought me the most gorgeous gift I've ever received which simultaneously provided the perfect representation of my new year's message?

[caption: my new year's bone!]

[Expressed in Words:]

Dear Friends & Loyal Fans, May 2008 bring you health and happiness, prosperity and peace. And in the fulness of time, may you exprience every blessing in joyful abundance .

with love, Mercury Murphy/M²/Roushanzamir

post script: I will deliver soon on my promise to describe my Christmas dinner party. It was one of the best parties I've ever attended & certainly serves as ballast to Mama et Papa's peculiar approach to entertaining.

Christmas, Part 2: the Presents

2007-12-29T09:40:00.000-05:00

I have been accused, by an envious few, of Being Unnecessarily Wordy. Sheer Calumny.

Still, for those fans who prefer the simplicity of visual communication, I present (get it?) this photo-essay titled:

Good Behavior Properly & Promptly Rewarded: presents from Santa

Carob cookies in pasta strainer

Hi-IQ Balls-within-a-Ball

Mind the Gap 3D t-shirt

Red Toys!

Books, amonsgt others Animals in Translation

Papa's valuable antiques (see Letter to Santa, 12-20-07)

Cheers!

Surfeited, I nap.

Christmas, Part 1: early morning

2007-12-28T10:03:00.000-05:00

Christmas morning dawned happily, the gray sky betokening rain to come, a blessing for drought-ridden northeast Georgia (location of the Roushanzamir home).

So happily, that I'm hard put to describe it! Words & photos [almost] fail me.

One small incident exemplifies the beauty of this year's Christmas morn.

Some months ago Mama purchased for me a Christmas ruff. Red, with white trim and a bell. She expected me to wear it at various holiday functions & literally chased me 'round the house in her sad attempt to persuade me to don The Ruff. [Due to my native cunning I managed to hide it just prior to the picture-with-Santa event; see 20-December-07 entry].

The true spirit of Christmas rose with me on Christmas morning & when Mama renewed her request, I humbly, willingly and yes, Happily, wore the ruff [if only momentarily].

Here, pictured is that ruff, along with a couple of other "gifts" received-- yes, some very beautiful people actually gave me antlers & a jingle-bell collar.

Still to come, more pictures of gifts received.

Plus:

What Santa brought Mama et Papa.

How I spent Christmas night (hint: singing, eating, drinking & general merriment)

Dear Santa,

2007-12-20T08:55:00.000-05:00

Dear, dear Santa!

Santa, I love you. Nor do I forget you during the 364 days that are not Christmas. You are my hero.

It was a thrill to finally meet you in person.

Listed below are the gifts that I hope will reward my year-long efforts which, lest you've forgotten in the rush of seasonal preparations, are as follows:

***Little crying, less pouting, no whining or unnecessary barking, eat meals promptly & neatly, go to bed at proper time & without fussing, waking hours spent in wholesome activity: in short my behavior = Very Good.***

Evidence of same: Mama et Papa took me [bundled me off] to Doggie Daycare for the required pre-admission Temperament Test at Pawtropolis [my old prep school]. The staff discussed amongst themselves my potential as an acceptable pack member, then introduced me to my group, [pathetically titled] "Tiny Tots." As I acclimated to the surroundings [which you can view through the online Pawtropolis web cam], they kept a watchful eye out [not unlike you, Santa, they saw me when I slept, knew when I awoke] for any signs of negativity, espeically aggression on my part, e.g. growling, lunging, baring of teeth, etc.

Notes were entered in a meticulously kept log with special mention of behavior problems IF there were any, which THERE WERE NOT.

My rating at day's end: EXEMPLARY, the highest commendation possible. Many happy face stickers were also awarded.

My Christmas List:

1 Terry-cloth puzzle ball with 7 smaller balls contained within

1 soccer ball, regulation size

1 yellow colored ball, small

1 warm blue sweater & 1 gray t-shirt [Mama insisted I include these]

Lots of colorful tissue paper wrapping

My own gift-laden stocking

Please remember Mama et Papa:

Mama would like a 2-week all-expenses paid trip to England to be scheduled for mid-April, 2008. [3 weeks would also be ok& the expenses should include an allowance for making purchases while travelling about.] Papa would like a first-edition A Christmas Carol, some valuable antiques & a cashmere jacket; he could also use some professional-quality cookware.

Finally, Dear Santa, in your own immortable words I wish you "a happy Christmas to all and to all a Good Night," with love from your pal Mercury Murphy Roushanzamir!

Festive frills & flourishes

2007-12-17T11:03:00.000-05:00

Mama likes to experiment with technology; she has lost her generational fear of just clicking the mouse or pushing a button & now does both (and more) with abandon. She often looses interest in her technological experimentation. This explains her only foray into creating musical-visual collages for her iPod.

Six beautiful pictures of me slide across the small screen to the tune of "That Was the Worst Christmas Ever," words & music by Sufjan Stevens. The music-lyrics are not by any means cynical nor is it (as one may assume from the title) a song of mean. To the contrary, "...worst Christmas ever" is a touching, haunting, lovely story with this refrain:

In time the snow will rise.

In time the Lord will rise.

Sufjan Stevens Presents Songs for Christmas Singalong comprises 5 cd/s, a cartoon poster, Songbook with guitar chords, lyrics and other stuff, and 5 holiday stickers, one of which (my favorite) shows King lion lying down with the baby lamb). I highly recommend this as an addition to your holiday music collection. (available from Amazon)

Which brings me to the subject of this entry:

Christmas Ornamentation of the Home: Deck the Halls

Mama's style may be labelled eclectic, tending towards collage or in a turn of phrase rather associated with Target (Tar-gay), shabby chic. Shabby, disorganized, ill-considered would be less flattering terms. Slip-shod might conceivably apply.

However, if ever there were a time to eliminate the adjectives & highlight the actions of the heart, surely it is Christmas time: "a kind , forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time... in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave....God bless it!" (email me if you can identify the original from which I quote).

Mantle decorated with cards, a treasure box of jewel-colored bells, a Santa musical snow-globe and happy Japanese boys & girls, framed.

Disrespectfully referred to as St. Nick & Dick, this ornamentation honors two important figures in my life: St. Nicholas (aka Santa Claus, in our house) and my beloved Grandpere.

Finally, Mama remembers that comfort begins at home and especially during the holiday. She provided me with my very own special Merry Christmas pillow.

And that pillow exactly expresses my wish for you: a happy, restful Christmas season.

Heavenly Notes & Carolings

2007-12-14T12:45:00.000-05:00

As Christmas time approaches, life in Athens tends towards the surreal. Since Thanksgiving, the tempretures here have hovered in the mid-70s. It's term's end at the University of Georgia and students flock to outdoor cafes, bars and other venues in shorts & tees, toasting the holidays (tanning themselves) they'll soon be spending elsewhere. Red's simply the color of Hairy Dawg, not especially of Santa Claus.

In short, the past few weeks feel like nothing more nor less than Spring Break.
Even at the Roushanzamir home [as you can see in the shot above], a certain pall has fallen as I try rather unsuccessfully to cold shoulder the UGA mascot.

Haplessly, if not hopelessly, I look to Mama for guidance.

Her suggestion: "Dance! Sing! praisefully & joyfully," she said, "start Carolling."

From the depths of my spring break in December malaise, I assumed she'd lost her marbles. [It has been know to happen.] However, "what is carolling?," I asked.

Mama, ever the teacher [lecturer], began to explain:

"Historically Carols were simply stories intoned at various times of year to help explain and celebrate cyclical occurances (harvests, planting-times, etc.); in 129 AD, "The Angle Hymn" was sung in a Christmas service in Rome. It was the 13th century innovation of St. Francis Assisi (beloved as Patron Saint of Animals) to encourage Christian carolling in folks' indigenous languages (previously Latin had been the unpopular choice of carol language).

Carols were initially performed by professionals, "Waits," but latterly singing Christmas carols hearalded the beginnings of the holiday season for Christians throughout the world, in their homes, churches and public gatherings. And today, for all who enjoy the annual rush & confusion of the last month of the year, from musac to High Mass, the Christmas carol provides a lovely excuse to make joyful noise," said Mama.

"Mercury, my pretty precious beauty [this is how Mama speaks of me always], sing out & make a gladsome noise. Click HERE and HERE and HERE! And follow the tunes & lyrics and Sing out Loud!," thus spake Mama.

And perhaps she spoke prophetically and wisely for the Christmas spirit entered the Roushanzamir home, wintery weather descended and the warmth of shared good times worked their magic.

I find I'm partial to "Good King Wenceslas." This carol tells a 1000-year-old story about the King of Bohemia who, viewing impoverished peasants from his castle tower, was moved to bring them food and wood. It is said, however, that the real (or more historically accurate) story of King Wenceslas is rather gory! Click HERE for both versions, i.e. the carol and the history.

And now dear friends & loyal fans, please enter into my tuneful mood by replying to this entry with the title, and any other information you care to impart, of your own favorite holiday carol.

Feel Like Christmas

2007-12-13T10:41:00.000-05:00

Today, I begin to share stray thoughts & impressions, images & words, and other reminders of the Christmas holiday. Stop by over the next 10 days as I add other Christmas entries & feel free to email me with your own holiday thoughts and wishes (click below to post a comment.)

Mark your Calander: 20-December-2007 for a First Public Viewing: Mercury Sits with Santa and my Letter to Santa.

The Peaceable Kingdom

The wolf will live with the lamb, the panther lie down with the kid, calf, lion and fat-stock beast together, with a little boy to lead them. The cow and the bear will graze, their young will lie down together. The lion will eat hay like the ox. The infant will play over the den of the adder; the baby will put his hand into the viper's lair. No hurt, no harm will be done on all my holy mountain, for the country will be full of knowledge of Yahweh as the waters cover the sea. (Isaiah 11:6-9)

Energizing Visions [daily meditation, 12-Dec-07]
http://www.henrinouwen.org/

"Are the great visions of the ultimate peace among all people and the ultimate harmony of all creation just utopian fairy tales? No, they are not! They correspond to the deepest longings of the human heart and point to the truth waiting to be revealed beyond all lies and deceptions. These visions nurture our souls and strengthen our hearts. They offer us hope when we are close to despair, courage when we are tempted to give up on life, and trust when suspicion seems the more logical attitude. Without these visions our deepest aspirations, which give us the energy to overcome great obstacles and painful setbacks, will be dulled and our lives will become flat, boring, and finally destructive. Our visions enable us to live the full life."

BowHaus

2007-11-26T10:38:00.000-05:00

I've had occasion to reflect on the amenities provided by Mama et Papa: my loft [see entry of July 28, 2006], my diet & dining sets [see entires, July 20 & 31, 2006; Jan. 30 & Feb. 15, 2007], and so on.

Tact has always suggested I avoid the subject of housecleaning all together. Suffice to say, Mama et Papa [probably] do their best.

And Yet. Contrast the beds pictured to your left.

Is it within the realm of belief that until last week I was "sleeping" in the [best be compared to an] old shoe on the right? And yet, so it was.

Finally Mama et Papa came to their senses and ordered a new one. Thankfully, I am able to report that centered in my loft is the impeccabley fresh & tidy bed upon which I now repose, my slumber undistrubed by housekeeping concerns.

The art & biography of cities

2007-10-25T12:37:00.001-05:00

[Note: links for this entry in either blue or purple]

The picture above illustrates one of my utmost pleasures: reading in bed. For example, bed is where I pursue my interest in the art & architecture of urban environments & how they function as evidence of social & cultural history. This blog entry outlines that interest & provides some resources, both written & visual, for those of you also attracted to the subject.

Works of Scholarship & Analysis.

Donald J. Olsen, the author of The City as a Work of Art: London, Paris, Vienna.

Olsen argues that a city's art & archetecture provide access to social & cultural history, offering insights into class differences, family and social organization, among other categories. As a Library Journal reviewer observes [quoted on Amazon] "the city is interpreted... as a vessel of civilization itself, a theater of historicist consciousness."

London: The Biography, by Peter Ackroyd.

Just get it & read it. Brilliant & now available in paper, but worth spending extra for the cloth edition.

New York Rises, photos by Eugene de Salignac, essays by Michael Lorenziniand Kevin Moore.

"From 1906 to 1934, Eugene de Salignac shot over 20,000 stunning 8x10-inch glass-plate negatives of New York City...." [see Amazon for brief review]

New York Underground: The Anatomy of a City, by Julia Solis.

This book explores New York City's subterranean-scape, i.e. story of a city through its sewars. Pictures & text offer a fascinating & unlikely tour. [Amazon, although on backorder]

Urban geography through Mystery.

See entries: October 23, 27-29, 2006 for British social & cultural biography-through-geography from 1929 through the present.

October 21 entry for the cultural geography of Southern California, 1950s-late 1970s.

Visual Arts.

Galleries of the Museum of Modern Art [MoMA]

Silent Be, it was the cat

2007-10-24T15:35:00.001-05:00

Dear Friends & Fans,

[new blog readers, please note: Everything in a pinkish-purple-ish color below is a link that, when clicked, will expand upon what I've written about any given topic.]

For the first time since I began this blog, I'm afraid I shall let you down. My wide-ranging interests have strayed from English humor in television & film. I shall mention one or two of the best in each category.

And do read on to find the promised treat, a Cockney Rhyming Slang web site; the time you spend perusing that site will gratify your love of the World Wide Waste-of-Time-- Although since Cockney Rhyming Slang is a cultural treasure, code-words cunningly devised to avoid upper-class interference with Cockney lives, your time will not be wasted. [A few examples of same are given below.]

Television:

Keeping Up Appearances: One of my favorites, sometimes shown on American TV [PBS] & on BBC America.

Also: To the Manor Born, Are You Being Served?, and As Time Goes By [with Oscar-winning Judy Densch]

For more on each of these surf your way to http://www.imdb.com/

Films? My Beautiful Landrette, Prick Up Your Ears [Gary Oldman, Alfred Molina & Vanessa Redgrave] and We Think the World of You [with Alan Bates, Gary Oldman, it explores their relationship and their interactions a very special dog]. Go to the Internet Movie Data Base for lots of info on these as well as the television shows.

Cockney Rhyming Slang! [this is a link]

Click the link above for a real treat. Just a few examples:

Half inch = "pinch" as in: Seen 'is new telly? Bet he half inched it.

Trouble & strife = "wife"

Pork pie = "lie" as in: Who's been telling porkies then?

Tea leaf = "thief" as in Don't take your eyes off 'im--'e's a tea-leaf.

Friar Tuck = f--k. [I won't elaborate]

Enough said. Be sure to check it all out at your earliest opportunity!

BTW:

"Silent Be, it was the cat" is from Gilbert & Sullivan's H.M.S. Pinafore. See previous entry for more on Gilbert & Sullivan and by the way, the "cat" mentioned is not a cute little pussy-cat!

Finis:
I trust you've enjoyed this romp through English humor [today's entry & the previous entry]. Revisit my blog again soon as I continue to expand my boundaries--- and yours.l

Greatly to his Credit

2007-10-05T08:40:00.000-05:00

(me, laughing]

Note: that while I frequently specify where links appear in the text, each link is also designated by its color: purple--various shades. Pink is the color of section separations)

"For he himself has said it

And it's greatly to his credit

That he is an Englishman

For inspite of all temptations

To belong to other nations

He remains an Englishman"

--Gilbert & Sullivan

Thus begins my promised tour of & ruminations on the weird & wonderful topic of English humor; it's a huge topic & my musings are limited. Still, I hope you'll enjoy them & perhaps be inspired to check out some of my recommendations & follow the included links for your further edification & hours of hilarity.

English Humor: part I

It is said that English humour can seem puzzling to the non-English and that may be an understatement. British humor, whether high class or low, depends on verbal wit, wit that is based on peculiarly the English experience that often seems almost impossible to translate either literally or culturally. However, my optimism is boundless. Thus, I shall list examples of English humor by medium & provide brief comments on each.

Comic Strips:

Lets begin with one example that is familiar to any regular reader [of which I am one] of American comic [formerly called funny] pages in their local newspapers: Andy Capp.

Andy Capp [Handycap or Handicap] is a working class bloke, married to the long-suffering Flo [& he has long suffered his mother-in-law], whose profession is drunk with occasional forays into football [soccer] & betting on the horses. He & Flo regularly attend marriage guidance [for an example, see comic of date 10-5-07 at the link above]. Until I researched this comic, I didn't realize that it was created by Reginald Smythe, seen in the The Daily Mirror and The Sunday Mirror newspapers since 1957. Perhaps its ongoing popularity alone provides enough of an inducement for you to click on the links provided here.

Magazines:

You can do no better than to introduce yourself to Punch magazine & no better way than to visit its web site. [click the link]

There you will learn, among other things, that: "Punch, the magazine of humour and satire, ran from 1841 until its closure in 2002. A very British institution with an international reputation for its witty and irreverent take on the world, it published the work of some of the greatest comic writers (Thackeray, P G Wodehouse and P J O’Rourke among others) and gave us the cartoon as we know it today." The web site is quite simply one of the best I've ever seen & if you click on the link above you'll do the next best thing to reading this deservedly long-lived journal.

Books:

Punch contributors have written books that lately I've had the good fortune to stumble upon.

The British Character by Pont of Punch.

Sadly he died when he was only 32. However, he left a large body of work, some of which can be discovered & revelled in in this book; should you wish to enjoy it for yourself, an Amazon search reveals several used copies.

Also noteworthy! as in the dog world, breeding is of importance in the world of English humor as Pont makes clear in this illustration.

Diary of a Nobody & Diary of Mrs. Pooter : Diary of a Nobody [1892, available from Amazon.com] was written by brothers George [who formed a special relationship with Gilbsert and Sullivan, see verse at beginning of entry] & Weedon Grossmith & first published in Punch [see above]. The "author" is one Charles Pooter of The Laurels, Brickfield Terrace, Holloway and I include his justification for the diary herewith:

"Why should I not publish my diary? I have often seen eminiscences of peopls I have never heard of and I fail to see--because I do not happen to be a 'Somebody'--why my diary should not be interesting."

Disaster upon disaster follow, the son, William who prefers to use his middle name, Lupin, disturbs whatever domestic bliss exists, and many assorted domestic depredations occur. Yet throughout, C. Pooter's motto, "home sweet home," prevails and Mr. Pooter is nothing more, nor less, than a good man, not hero, nor fool, but decent & honorable.

Mrs. Pooter [Mrs. Pooter's Diary by Punch contributor Keith Waterhouse, 1983 & dedicated to the authors of Diary of a Nobody] early acknowledges that she secretly reads her husband's diary. Mrs. Pooter's Diary, is an homage to C. Pooter's and recognized as "one of the great classics of English humor... a wonderful comic creation in its own right.

Many other novels more popularly recogznised by an American audience include P. G. Wodehouse's [click link for superb website] characters Bertie Wooster & Jeeves who cavort through a number of novels, J. R. Ackerly, whose few contributions to literature have been described as "a cross between Dickens' David Copperfield, Rousseau's Confessions.... his truth is stranger--and funnier--than fiction...." [read the novel--and see the film [link] staring Gary Oldman-- We Think the World of You as a starter], and of course the immortal Charles Dickens [link]. As to the last suffice to say I read The Pickwick Papers [read it online by clicking this link] for the first time in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia & as of this moment, I'm re-reading it again with the greatest pleasure.

Well!

You've been provided with a full plate of pleasure. Suffice for the day.

Part II [to come shortly] explores English television, film and [best of all?] Cockney Rhyming Language.
'Til next time, Cheers, M²

BOBBYWOOD?

2007-10-03T15:53:00.000-05:00

Discover BOBBYWOOD Creative American Bistro by clicking on the photo above.

It was voted the "best new restaurant in Hampton Roads" in 2006

Their web site is super cool.

And I can testify that the accolade "best" is well-deserved.

So position your cursor over the picture & click your mouse.

Yum Yum Yum Yum

Bon Appetit.

Bravo Italiano

2007-10-02T14:33:00.001-05:00

A couple of days ago I wrote about the five star meal at a Japanese restaurant in Norfolk. Today I'll write about an entirely different, but equally pleasing experience in that fine city.

Veneziano is a 3-generation family restaurant serving family Italian food. Home-made minestroni, plateful of spaghetti, fresh bread & a bottle of red wine.

The decoration! The ambience. The music, Italian music: opera, Frank Sinatra. The comfortable tables & spacious booths.

And best of all, [along with the food, of course!] what service. Mother, sisters, cousins, all with a welcoming smile, an inquiry about your well-being, a recommendation if one is needed, knowledge of your usual if you're a regular. Although it's a popular neighborhood [& city-wide] establishment, each customer enjoys an intimate evening of first-rate food.

Grandpere et Grandmere are indeed regulars at Veneziano & therefore I received a true family welcome.

Grazie Grandpere et Grandmere & Grazie Veneziano

Japanese Meal: gushing

2007-09-30T07:12:00.000-05:00

The photo above shows Me at home waiting [and waiting] for a meal. While I would not describe this as a begging attitude, I'm sorry to report that meal times at the Roushanzamirs can be irregular [highly].

Such is never the case at the home of Grandmere et Grandpere. The following story illustrates that happy circumstance.

Promptly upon my arrival at Norfolk Grandmere et Grandpere whisked me to Kotabuki [click the link] a 5-star Japanese restaurant [fortunately located 1 block or so from their spacious townhouse in the historic Ghent neighborhood]. The sushi Chef, a man of highly dignified mien, stands guard over the extraordinary array of fresh fish; the Chef is a tall man, little given to smiles or social chit chat.

In any case, immediately we sit down and are served Horin Gekkeikan an ultra-premium or, more precisely, Junmai Daiginjo sake. Quite frankly the best I've ever sampled. As we sip our wine, the Chef carefully and I daresay lovingly, prepares 3 sashimi platters. And when they appear, what a gloriously beautiful presentation & what a highly satisfactory, gourmet delight.

[below, a soup bowl with the requisite chopstikcs, usually filled with Udon; my Grandmere kindly presented them to me, as a substitute for my usual doggie bowls, for when I eat Japanese noodles at home. And see entries of July 31, 2006 and February 15, 2007 for more information about serving ware at the Roushanzamir home!]

[As I'm showing examples of the Japanese aesthetic, below is a screen, over 50 years old; it graces the luxurious guest room in Grandmere's & Grandpere's home. By the way, my own Mama was born in Nagoya, Japan--year unknown or at least unrevealed--but here I digress]

Such was my welcome at Kotabuki [click the link] that, after finishing the delicate sashimi [raw fish, accompanied by sculpted radish with rice on the side] and as we were leaving [to take a well-deserved, post-parandial nap], the solemn sushi Chef bestowed on me a beautific smile.

What a fortunate way to begin my holiday!

Recreational Travel: a preview

2007-09-29T17:38:00.000-05:00

As you may recall, travel occupies a good deal of time-- my active modeling career demands it. However, mama et papa occasionally permit me, as a respite from my chaotic schedule, to visit close family members.

Thus recently, a trip by air to Norfolk, Virginia to hang out with grandpere et grandmere.

Tomorrow I will provide details of our time together along with:

snapshots of each of them

culinary explicaitons

brief editorial about air travel

short review of British humor as represented by 3 books

For today, suffice to say my welcome at home was enthusiastic & high-spirited. [Frankly, mama et papa are at an absolute loss without me.]

My New Friend, JPEG

2007-09-11T15:41:00.000-05:00

Meet my new friend, JPEG.

JPEG lives with Peter & Amy.

Peter, a noted photographer, Amy a popular professor & widely published scholar have been my friends for the last 2 years, i.e. ever since I arrived at the Roushanzamir home. Since JPEG chose to make his home with them, their calls upon us have changed in ways unpredictable yet entirely satisfactorily.

Peter & Amy pursue international agendas of great significance. And previously, their conversations tended to reflect their interests.

Above view but one of Peter's shots documenting conditions in war zones (here Iraq). He has travelled to developing countries, ongoing wars on several continents, & locations of the aftermath of conflict situations bringing, through his photos, the devastating human tragedies very close to those who otherwise all too often choose to remain ignorant (or as I refer to it, learned ignorance).

Amy's curriculum vita with her list of publications speaks for itself. Please click the link to view it (& to see a wonderfully representative picture of Amy).

Accomplished as they prove themselves, their visits occasioned only passing acknowledgment of my presence. Yes, they were kind, yes, they greeted and bade me au revoir respectfully and yes, they might (no guarantee) pass me a pistachio or, even more rarely, a sip of champagne.

But those unforeseen consequences of adding JPEG to the mix improve the quality of these visits dramatically.

Perhaps because JPEG personally selected Peter & Amy as his rescue people, the folks with whom he wished to spend his life (may be long; he's a 3 month old puppy), they seem especially appreciative of the blessing that walks with them.

And such happy results (for me).

Since JPEG's arrival, Peter's & Amy's formerly wide-ranging conversation is now --and let's be honest, thank goodness for it -- pretty much limited to JPEG: his behaviors, social adjustments, quirks, good looks, habits, preferences, and so forth. (Benefits accrue to me by association.)

And while they undoubtedly plan to continue with their presitigous careers and distinguished pursuits, their lives (properly) center around JPEG. Now, JPEG and I together determine the agenda & logistics of the (sadly, all too infrequent) occasions of their visits.

Look at his appealing face, glorious coat, handsome markings, perky ears, slender paws, sleek & perfectly proportioned body -- and those eyes, what eyes! JPEG, now a treasured part of my life, enriches the lives of Peter, Amy and all who meet him. Thank you for choosing Peter & Amy as your rescue people & for thus rescuing Peter & Amy (& frankly your impact on Mama et Papa is also refreshing).

And finally, thank you for your love, licks, your glorious public displays of affection, your friendship.

Compare, Invidious, Unfair

2007-09-04T10:19:00.001-05:00

During the last few days my personality & behaviour have been subjected to comparisons to the Remarkable Lucy (shown at left with her Mama). As a consequence, I've experienced any amount of suffering.

The back story: Lucy flew, from the Idaho breeder with whom I lived previously, to Logan, Boston. There for the first time she met Melinda, long time friend (& accomplished scholar) of Mama (click appropriate link in labels field below). It seems that Lucy (formerly named Poppi!) was an instant hit with her Mama & took to city life in a most gratifying manner.

However, that does not negate the unenviable position in which I've been placed. For example,

Lucy is touted as a lap dog; I, a bruiser.

Lucy's manners are impecable; mine, to the contrary.

Lucy eats daintily; I'm accused of spreading crumbs.

Lucy is called "cute little Lucy;" I'm referred to as "funny little girl."

And on. And on.

Let's face it. Such comparisons are invidious and unfair. Lucy is an adult & I, a teen. Lucy is a relative newcomer in Melinda's flat--perhaps acting on her (suspiciously) best behavior. I'm already a seasoned member of the Roushanzamir household, clearly a lifer. In any case, aren't we each unique with characteristics that define our identities, that ephemeral yet essential Who-We-Are?

Let's add insult to injury. Lucy's Mama is that same Melinda Robins who, as I reported in February 03, '07 , brutally scorned Mama's pals-- before my time & true, pauvre Mama's so-called pals were pathetic stuffed animals (again, click appropriate link in labels field below for juicy tit bits).

In fairness, Lucy is gorgeous, a veritable glamour girl; like me she may be able to pursue a successful modeling career (click appropriate link in labels field below). Apparently she has cottened to Melinda most satisfactorily.

And in the interests of truth, let it be known that it was Melinda's encounter with Me that served as the significant first step towards uniting Lucy with her Mama. In the adoption of Lucy my influence was paramount.

So Cheers to you, lovely Lucy. Your namesakes may be many (Lucille Ball, B.B.King's guitar to name only two) but you're an exceptional doggie & a credit to us all.

Beauty en famille

2007-08-24T13:53:00.001-05:00

I've written only briefly about about the remarkable Susan Lester. She has long demonstrated her many talents, some of which were noted earlier on this blog. Those include basketball, dance, horse-back riding. She's super-smooth on the guitar. And, she's got brains.

I do not share all of these qualities. However, clearly we do share one attribute of note:

beauty.

We're both all-out gorgeous.
Check out her myspace page

Ah, Paris!

2007-08-20T05:44:00.000-05:00

As you already know, I trace my origins to France & maintain a close relationship with those of my relatives lucky enough to live in the City of Light.

Every morning as Papa drives to the Complex Carbohydrate Research Center, I shout "au revoir Papa."

I read books about Paris, for example:

Paris to the Moon, by Adam Gopnik, or

Paris: Capital of the World, by Patrice Higonnet

Sometimes I dip into tomes by French authors.

Three of my favorites:

Georges Simenon's Maigret books or the recently published in English, The 13 Culprits or

A Barthes Reader, introduction by Susan Sontag, or

Georges Bataille, Histoire de l'oeil

I urge that at least once before the grim reaper snatches you from terrestrial existence, you too explore the city I call my second home, recoognized as the most beautiful city in the world, with the assurance that you'll return fulfilled & content that you did not miss one of earth's greatest treasures.

A votre sante, M²

[Oh, la la, I can't find the accents on Mama's keyboard]

[Pictures of Paris courtesy of Parler Paris]

Indisputedly HRH

2007-08-19T15:50:00.001-05:00

A variety of categories of titles exist: earned, honorary & inherited, for example. Only the last indicates a status of undeniable authority & privilege.

Here I share for the first time 2 views of one symbol, mine by right: The Royal Poof, marked with the exclusive emblems of Majesty, the Crown & the title, Her Royal Highness.

Mincing Words

2007-08-04T15:54:00.000-05:00

Perhaps it would be more accurate to say No Words at present. Please refer to past entries, some hilarious, others glamorous, a few intellectual and all simply awesome.

'Til next time, fans & friends

Enjoy the Dog Days of Summer

Mama Parle, Mama Talking

2007-04-03T06:21:00.000-05:00

"Of course, I agree with you."

"Please make me eat my dinner before you give me a treat."

"I love you more than anyone in the universe."

You get the point. These are only 3 of the inanities that Mama natters[as if on my behalf]. She speaks in a high baby voice, attributing to me that odious pitch. How sad it is for a creature of my noble heritage to be reduced to an anthropomorphized object.

I acknowledge that Mama speaks well [and often] in her own voice.

If I may make one request of you, my friends and faithful fans, please flood my Comments section with pleas to Mama to stop the insanity. If you wish, cut and paste the following line:

Mercury, descendant from an illustrious line of red toy poodles, expresses herself fluently. Please bring this childish game [to give Mama the benefit of the doubt] to an immediate end.

After the beauty parlor

2007-03-28T06:15:00.000-05:00

Complete exhaustion. [see also July 18, 2006]

These pictures may be examples of those considered

"Worth a Thousand Words."

In My Eye [Cue]

2007-03-27T14:59:00.000-05:00

This entry should suggest certain important topics--measuring intelligence, psychological health, to name only 2-- rather than simply the appropriateness of the toys presented to me. Remember that as you read on:
Mama et Papa feel obligated to proffer Educational Toys. [I do respect their choice to maintain 2 largish boxes of cadeaux for me] For example, carefully examine the toy I'm holding; the "challenge" is to remove each of the smaller ball contained within.

What a laugh. In, out, a ball's a ball. I hesitate [for modesty's sake] to reveal that on my first try I extracted each of the seven balls. Further, I discovered that only 3 of the balls squeeked-- and obviously those are the only balls I choose to play with. Too yawn-making.

Yes, my IQ is high. No real need for the Intellectually Stimulating Toy, psychological testing, or even a reminder of my Pawtropolis diploma earned [& discussed in entry of July 21, 2006].

Naturally, I occasionally indulge in the game to please Mama. And concommitently I indugle her effulgence as she watches me apply New Skills.

Here's a cue regarding the level of my intelligence: my preference on these hot, humid, bug-ridden days is to relax on Mercury's Chair on my screened in porch and watch the world go by. Doesn't that strike you as a highly intelligence choice?

Photographer: my turn

2007-03-22T11:32:00.000-05:00

As I pen [a metaphor] this, several important entries are in process [a term I learned from Mama, often used in academia for dubious purposes].

However, springtime's in the air in Athens, GA, with highs in the upper 70s & plenty of pollen and bugs to suit nobody's taste.

Thus I explain my yearning to conquer [figure of speech?] expression through the graphic arts. First up: photography.

Here's Mama in my first attempt at portraiture.

How patient she is, what an even temper she possesses! For she allowed me to: [1] use her digital camera, [2] publish this, my first photo ever.

I like to think of this entry as an Ode to Springtime, that season of new beginnings.

And the shot of me [above & self-shot] as paean to the Persian new year, 1386.

NoRuz Mobarak

Brief Wander through the Filmic Martini

2007-03-19T15:15:00.000-05:00

The successful reception of the previous entry suggested a [rather banal] literary conceit to Mama [pauvre Mama].

"Mercury," she inquired, "why not follow the Chilblaines & Kid Gloves in Literature entry with something like the Martini in Film [& Literature]? Wouldn't that make a good follow-up-- a sort of thematic approach to your little blog?"

I listened to Mama's request & appeared to give my thoughtful consideration to her recommendation. [I noted the "little blog" crack, simply too pitiful to answer.] However, I decided to humor her:

"Shaken not stirred," said James Bond. How familiar is that bon mot! Almost a slogan for James Bond in film & print. The Nick & Nora films plots are driven by that shaken libation.

Here's one you may not be aware of [admittedly, nor was I] : the 1928 film, "Dry martini." Starring Mary Astor [a beautiful woman & personal favorite], it was directed by Argentinian Harry d'Abbadie d'Arrast . A paeon to the dry martini? I shall view it & report.

The martini in film noir[along with ever-present cigarette smoke] is a powerful signifier of sophistication. [film noir is discussed in January 20/21, 2007]

As a sophisticate myself, I excell in the art of preparing a cold, crisp Vodka [ gin, by special request] Martini. Papa et Mama each endeavored to instruct me; it was a case of the student quickly outpacing the teachers. I may also prepare water cress & cucumber sandwiches upon request. Here I offer pictorial evidence of my special acumen--an ice cold martini; one could skate across the top:

Annoyingly, Papa, after reading a draft of today's entry, also chimed in with a concept: "Mercury, why not follow this entry with one about dogs in film [& literature], focusing on the relationship of dogs with children?" As if this blog were based on themes rather than aesthetic whims and literary inspiration. The creative dog is misunderstood in the world of humans.

And I plan to abandon the thematic approach, leaving on a high note. [i.e. this entry & for more on the martini, click the subject heading below].

No More Themes/ "No More Twist," remarked the talented non-humans in one of my favorite novels The Tailor of Gloucester [novel by Beatrix Potter].

Kid Gloves and Chilblains in Literature

2007-03-05T16:38:00.000-05:00

Photo #1: one of my many book shelves [also note: an 8-ball & the, alas, pink, date-ball]

Photo #2: overflow-- books in boxes
Photo #3: one of my much loved reading nooks

I have claimed [rather coyly, I admit] that I cannot read; I have also claimed that "reading is my hobby" [10/20/06]. Now it must be admitted that both claims were eroneous [although asserted for the best of reasons]. For, once declare my erudution, I would be beseiged with requests: to create "Cliff Notes," write book reviews, etc.

Now the truth must be revealed since kid gloves and chilblains have intruded into the Roushanzamir world & have had a sadly direct impact on my daily life [e.g. walking in damp, raw, & cold curtailed]. Pauvre Mama. Last year it was shingles. And as you have probably guessed by now, kid gloves & chilblains [on the toes] have reared their collective heads [to use a frightful metaphor].

As for reading, I practice of that human art voraciously. I've read and reread amongst the classics and contemporary global literature and therefore accumlated [almost] innumerable books [see shot above for but a tiny example] as well as vast general knowledge and extraneous, but fascianting, details of humans' cultural, political-economic, and social practices.

No research required. Below find a few instances of kid gloves & chilblains in literature. And behold, the world revells in joy amongst sorrow, delight amongst [highly qualified] agony and interest amongst ignominy.

Let us journey through time & text as we a sip few literary cocktails [check back for more on the cocktail or read July 31 & November 25, 2006] .

"...Edward cannot get his boots on to come to school as he has chilblains so badly...." anonymous note from parent to school teacher in Edwardian England.

"...our ungloved hands became numbed and covered with chilblains...." from Jane Eyre (C. Bronte, formerly Currer Bell]

"....his mother left her husband
in Egypt with her 5 children, returning to London, where he remembers his mother as tormented by cracked chilblains covering her hands." from the biography of C. S. Forester

from Little Dorrit by the incomparable C. Dickens:

"....to think of the days when papa used to bring me here the least of girls a perfect mass of chilblains to be stuck upon a chair with my feet on the rails and stare at Arthur--pray excuse me--Mr Clennam--the least of boys in the frightfullest of frills and jackets ere yet Mr F.appeared a misty shadow on the horizon paying attentions like the well-known spectre of some place in Germany beginning with a B is a moral lesson inculcating that all the paths in life are similar to the paths down in the North of England where they get the
coals and make the iron and things gravelled with ashes!"

A lighter touch:

"I once loved a lassie from Greenleigh
Whose comportment was naught short of queenly.
When she grows old and stout,
Wracked with chilblains and gout,
I'll embrace her no less, but more keenly."
from Avant News, Tomorrow's News Today

Glance at this recommended cure for chilblains from Godey's Ladies Book & Magazine: "....household remedy for chilblains, pot pourri, to gild without gold, hot water...."

Or more specifically, again from Jane Eyre: "The recommended cure for chilblains was to apply a poultice of hot roasted onions to the affected area and leave for two to three days, if not cured earlier...."

Now, faithful fans, from the indignity of chilblains to the rareified world of kid gloves, you'll be [perhaps] happily astonished by this first quotation from chapter 2, Alice in Wonderland:

"After a time she heard a little pattering of feet in the distance, and she hastily dried her eyes to see what was coming. It was the White Rabbit returning , splendidly dressed, with a pair of white kid gloves in one hand and a large fan in the other: he came trotting along in a great hurry, muttering to himself as he came, `Oh! the Duchess, the Duchess! Oh! won't she be savage if I've kept her waiting!' Alice felt so desperate that she was ready to ask help of any one; so, when the Rabbit came near her, she began, in a low, timid voice, `If you please, sir--' The Rabbit started violently, dropped the white kid gloves and the fan, and skurried away into the darkness as hard as he could go."

Or from My Uncle James, Guy de Maupassant:

“Every Sunday, dressed in our best, we would take our walk along the pier. My father, in a frock coat, high hat and kid gloves, would offer his arm to my mother, decked out and beribboned like a ship on a holiday. My sisters, who were always ready first, would await the signal for leaving; but at the last minute someone always found a spot on my father’s frock coat, and it had to be wiped away quickly with a rag moistened with benzine. " [as for benzine, it too appears in myriad tomes & recalls days gone by almost as effectively as chilblains & kid gloves-- all 3 however gradually passing from everyday use & awareness]

In the [could it be more?] depressing book, Of Human Bondage" by Mr. Somerset Maugham, a striking reversal of the usual [chapter 88!]:

"She had taken her hair out of the curling pins and now wore an elaborate fringe. She had on a plain black dress and black kid gloves…."

Appropriately following the previous example, Roy Fuller titled his mystery: Death Wears Kid Gloves. [this appears in Popular Detective, 3/47]

And finally:

I know you must wonder why I've turned to this method of cheering Mama in her moments of discomfort and despair? Ah, the happy memories of reading & rereading Little Women by Louisa May Alcott.

"Jo [see illustration below] thanked him and gladly went, wishing she had two neat [kid] gloves when she saw the nice, pearl-colored ones her partner wore. The hall was empty, and they had a grand polka, for Laurie danced well, and taught her the German step, which delighted Jo being full of swing and spring> When the music stopped, they sat down on the stairs to get their breath, and Laurie was in the midst of an account of a students' festival at Heidelberg when Meg appeared in search of her sister. She beckoned, and Jo reluctantly followed her into aside room, where she found her on a sofa, holding her foot, and looking pale." [German step, like benzine, long forgotten]

Would that Mama experience the life-restoring pleasures of the best of books & the warming light of a blazing fire. For herein lies the cure as it would also helped forestall the recurring scourge of chilblains [soothe the feet & heat the gloves].

I sincerely trust that each of you have enjoyed [and will benefit from!] this romp through literary history. And further, that you never experience the pain of chilblains; and that you have, or will have, the pleasure of wearing a pair of kid gloves.

For now, adieu & as ever thank you, faithful fans.