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Friday mousetrap

It's been a while, but (yawn, stretch) I think I'm ready to emerge from my winter's hibernation ... I feel like I need a remedial course in blogging. Whatever did I used to write about?

Greenpoint! Though some may argue that our imminent Starbucksification is a sign of doom, some parts of the neighborhood remain resolutely anti-commercial (sort of):

Feb_07_022_3 

I'm not sure if you can call this a typo if the sign across the block replicates the error ...

Wait for the beep! YouTube saves the day again -- I've had these answering machine jingles lodged in my head since 1986 or so. Leave your name, leave your number ...

Arts & Letters, and cats! I think it's sort of funny that my mom has a black cat named Sasha and Mr. L. Management has been translating a poet named Sasha the Black for a while. Well, if not really funny, then at least a little cute. Anyway, you should check out his new -- never before translated into English! -- batch of poems over at Archipelago, just the thing for a sleety day in mid-March.

happy weekend!

March 16, 2007 in Mousetrap! | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

Friday mousetrap

Cat On the uptown 6 train the other night two office ladies standing near me chatted animatedly, one telling her friend the story of a child who'd gone missing in her office, only to be found hiding under a desk. "I'm telling you, my heart was in my ass," the storyteller said.

This is now my new favorite expression.

In other news, this really makes me miss the days when vomit was the highlight of presidential visits overseas:

In his first day in the capital of a country that was America’s wartime enemy during his youth, President Bush said today that the American experience in Vietnam contained lessons for the war in Iraq. Chief among them, he said, was that “we’ll succeed unless we quit.”

OK, I'm spending my weekend in CAT TOWN. Enjoy yours!

November 17, 2006 in Mousetrap! | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

Mouse jamboree

Trap Given all the mouse-related Google searches that lead random Internet wanderers here ("mouse+feces+photo" and "mouse+crushed+by+woman+high+heel" are typical), you would think I'd devote more time to writing about this blog's namesake. So here's one stab at it -- though not, sorry, with a sexy stilletto.

As of tonight, my total mouse body count to date is six. Not atypical for a New York City tenement, and not bad for a three-year-plus time span, but unsettling nonetheless, especially when I think of all their luckier relatives.

Thanks to the trusty D-Con Ultra-Set Covered Snap Trap loaded with peanut butter and parmesan (which remains, in my vast experience, the only extermination method that really works), I just came home to another victim. This saddens me, it creeps me out, it makes me feel guilty and icky and angry at the universe all at once. I'm sure there's a German word for this.

I hate having to kill the little guys. I'm not unsympathetic to their cause. While a glimpse of one scurrying across my floor sends me into barely-contained hysterics, I'm enough of an animal lover to recognize a certain charm in these clever little creatures, disease vectors though they may be. And it's just awful to see a dead mammal of any sort, let alone to be the agent of dispatch.

Leading a sheltered and fortunate life, I guess, I spent a solid three decades never seeing an expired mammal in any form other than road kill. I haven't even been to a funeral. This all changed a few years ago, when I stroked the soft grey fur of my faithful kitty companion on a veterinarian's table in Carrboro, NC. Aside from the emotional horror of losing someone I loved so dearly, there was a shock totally new to me, seeing a body at one moment quick with life, and the next stiff and drained of energy. You can read and hear about it most of your life, but there’s no way to prepare for what this is like. It seems magical, this transformation -- one minute she was there, and the next, well, as the vet put it, "she's gone." And she really was -- just suddenly there/not there in a way that transcended the physical.

But I didn't mean to get all metaphysically gloomy on you; this is a blog, for goodness' sake. The reason I bring this up is that upon my return from that terrible vet visit down South, I came home to find the stiff tail of my first mouse victim sticking out of the D-Con Covered Trap I'd set before I left. This was after I'd abandoned all hope for any sort of “humane” trap; those just hadn't attracted the visitors I knew were roaming my kitchen. But I don't think I'd really expected this murderous trap to work, either; I was just going through the motions, as I was with most everything during that sad time.

Anyway, the tail. I couldn't help noticing that its silvery color was not dissimilar to that of my departed friend's fur. And the stiffness of it, the horror of death, the unfairness of it all -- it was all too much. Working up the courage to deal with the unpleasant disposal, I steeled myself by thinking of my Lithuanian great-grandmother, who fled her village to travel, alone, to Boston (via Amsterdam, via a German prison) at age 13, and who found her beloved husband taken by an aneurysm in the middle of the night at his upholstery shop, a few decades later. I reminded myself that Libby had to deal with plenty of dead mice and worse during her lifetime, and damnit, here I was on the Upper East Side of Manhattan armed with a fresh pair of yellow rubber gloves and a supply of plastic bags -- I could deal with this. I still try to apply this trick, to become mercenary and tough, but it never really gets any easier.

Guilt aside, it’s the psychological aspect of an infestation that gets me. It’s no good pretending I haven’t seen a mouse dart between my kitchen and hall closet when I suspect I have. And it’s no good pretending the brown specks on my stovetop are charred bits of rice. These denial strategies only leave me filled with more despair when the inevitable true sighting occurs (a highlight so far being the cute little mouse butt and tail I saw leaping out of my Calphalon pot full of leftover rice to disappear back into the stove last year).

Really, the only thing that allows me to cope is a little trick my boyfriend invented to comfort me, which is to imagine these creatures as sort of cartoony and cute visitors. “Imagine,” he'll say, “all these little guys dressed up in tiny marching-band outfits, the drum guy, the guy with the baton, all their funny hats, filing through your apartment, a Mouse Jamboree!” Then he'll hum a little tootle-y Mouse Jamboree song and I'll laugh and, at least temporarily, feel a sense of peace and fondness for these silly characters. It works, really. The guy can make me laugh myself out of any problem.

... Until nights like this one, when I get home from work, alone, casually glance at the trap in the kitchen, and see yet another stiff tail. I’m not in the mood to deal with it and I’m not in the mood to laugh about it and I’m not going to call anyone else to help me deal with a problem humanity has managed to cope with for centuries. Instead, I’m just going to sit here blogging about it for a while, and then maybe toast the latest fallen Jamboree member with a glass of sauvignon blanc. R.I.P., little city mouse.

November 02, 2006 in Mousetrap! | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBack (0)

Tuesday Mousetrap

Just a few things I noticed while puttering around the Internet on this gloomy, soggy Tuesday.

Jonathan Franzen: The Terence Trent D'Arby of letters?

One of the FBI's 10 Most Wanted: pulled over for expired license plates ...

Baby squid OMG!!! (via)

August 29, 2006 in Mousetrap! | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)

Friday mousetrap

Tv OK, I may finally have to get cable. If a meerkat soap opera wasn't enough, there's also a cat reality show in the works!

Oh, but this is distressing:

In voiceovers accompanying the kitty action, the cats will be given personalities as crafted by advertising copywriters. Some may be shy, but the Los Angeles and New York cats could turn out to be real glamour pusses ...

Sigh. By now, it should be common knowledge that human voices on cats are only funny and/or cute when given to them by their owners. No exceptions!

In any case, it's not always a good sign when TV execs start stealing ideas from America's Finest News Source:

According to the show's creator, former zoo director Loren De Jong, over 80 different species were auditioned to find the right mix of personalities. In addition to the red bear, African cheetah, hawk, and antelope, the house is occupied by an American bison, a field mouse, an Egyptian plover, a three-toed sloth, a goose, a crocodile, and a female lowland gorilla who is "very territorial of the bathroom."

De Jong said the show's contestants begin forming alliances on the first day.

"We see an immediate alliance develop between the lowland gorilla and the bison, who work together to smash a hole through a wall," De Jong said.

"While the bear and crocodile are the first to assert themselves in the house, folks at home shouldn't forget the dark horse: the field mouse, who might just fly under the radar all the way to the finals," she added.

Well, I know who I'm rooting for.

BREAKING! UPDATED TO ADD: Okay, who invited the alligator?  (Thanks, Rick!)

June 09, 2006 in Mousetrap! | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

Friday mousetrap

GtmI haven't posted any photos in a while, mainly because I've been too lazy to take them off my camera. But why leave the house at all when there are so many good photos online?

Here's an interesting collection of Greenpoint Terminal Market before-and-after shots from some intrepid explorer types (RIP, one month later). For great NYC shots I like this Joe guy and this Satan person, but there are many many more.

This looks to be a handy site full of photo tips and tricks. And via that site I came across this, an amazing collection of individual self-portraits from one family spanning 25 years.

On another note entirely, this article by righteous envirohottie RFK Jr. is the most thorough analysis of the outrageous 2004 election antics I've seen so far -- long, but worth a look:

Immediately after the polls closed on Election Day, GOP officials -- citing the FBI -- declared that the county was facing a terrorist threat that ranked ten on a scale of one to ten. The county administration building was hastily locked down, allowing election officials to tabulate the results without any reporters present.

In fact, there was no terrorist threat. The FBI declared that it had issued no such warning, and an investigation by The Cincinnati Enquirer unearthed e-mails showing that the Republican plan to declare a terrorist alert had been in the works for eight days prior to the election. Officials had even refined the plot down to the language they used on signs notifying the public of a lockdown. (via)

I would say what can we do to make sure this doesn't happen again, but I seem to recall a lot of that after the 2000 debacle and it didn't stop these criminals, so I'll just fume and surf around for photoblogs until I'm sufficiently distracted again. On that dispirited note, happy weekend!

(photo above via)

June 02, 2006 in Mousetrap! | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

Tuesday Mousetrap

MacyfloatWow. Not much time today, but I wanted to link to these pictures of a 1930s Macy's Thanksgiving parade, found at a "family run estate sale in a small Texas town" by the proprietors of the wonderful Swapatorium. I'm always dreaming of big cartoony animals that look just like this, so these photos are the very definition of "dreamlike" to me. Breathtaking.

Note the beautiful NYC architectural detail, including what appears to be the now-defunct elevated train and some ornate street lights. I'm hoping the knowledgeable Mr. Forgotten NY will weigh in somewhere with more information on the exact location.

And bonus! Some great Seattle World's Fair photos here too. (Via)

May 23, 2006 in Mousetrap! | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

Try to come up with post title not involving cheap pun on "Welcome to the Jungle," fail, post anyway

JaguarI have a list of Favorite Movies Ever a mile long, and I have a slightly shorter list of formerly favorite movies that, upon further inspection decades later, really Do Not Hold Up. I will not divulge them all here, but this NYT article reminded me of one: The Emerald Forest.

My mom loved it so much she bought the videotape in the mid-'80s. Having vowed to pursue a future involving running away to live in the woods somewhere far from the evils of the modern age and Mauldin High School, I decided The Emerald Forest SPOKE to me, and I watched it over and over. Oh, how misty-eyed I'd get curled in front of the TV with my kitten, watching the doomed Amazon tribesmen struggle to maintain their noble way of life in the face of greedy, environment-destroying loggers! Oh, how I'd thrill to the paternal ferocity of Powers Boothe as he hacked through the jungle to find his long-lost son, taken as a small boy by these tribesmen! Oh, how I'd long to experiment with hallucinogens so that I too might identify my own animal spirit guide! (This didn't really work, I would later find).

Anyway, the Times article tells a story of an Amazonian tribe that's decided it's over the whole noble savage thing:

Since time immemorial the Nukak-Makú have lived a Stone Age life, roaming across hundreds of miles of isolated and pristine Amazon jungle, killing monkeys with blowguns and scouring the forest floor for berries.

But recently, and rather mysteriously, a group of nearly 80 wandered out of the wilderness, half-naked, a gaggle of children and pet monkeys in tow, and declared themselves ready to join the modern world.

The article floats a few reasons for the tribe's decision, but this one seemed the most sensible to me:

One young Nukak mother, Bachanede, breast-feeding her infant as she talked, said she was happy just to stay still. "When you walk in the jungle," she said, "your feet hurt a lot."

May 12, 2006 in Mousetrap! | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

Friday Mousetrap

Pugs_1 It's been a slow week in Weird Animal News, but that's OK, since nothing could possibly top You Can't Make It Up's thrilling cavalcade of dogs and cats behind the wheel. Plus some bonus photos! Drive safely and have a good weekend ...

April 28, 2006 in Mousetrap! | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBack (0)

Friday Mousetrap

Iguana I have a nerdy blogger confession: I set up this Google Alert called "Animal News" so I could entertain my five loyal readers regularly with tales of animal kingdom follies. But now I'm receiving this daily e-mail alert which mainly rounds up depresso headlines such as "Animal rights groups seek probe into lion cub's death," "Animal Shelter Won't Help Volunteer Who Lost Nose To Dog," and various sad stories about cat ladies' litter-strewn corpses and such. It has nearly made me too sad to blog.

So, just two stories from the wild kingdom today, as I prepare to re-evaluate my Google Alert situation this weekend.

Thanks to the Gawkeriffic proprietor of LM, we have the story of poor Piper, a dog who just wanted a rabbit.

And, from down south, a town nearly up to its knees in iguanas.

The reptiles are found in a few other places in Florida, but nowhere in the numbers seen on Gasparilla Island, home to television renovator Bob Vila and a vacation spot for the Bush clan.

Last month, Lee County commissioners agreed to create a special tax for Boca Grande to cover costs of studying the infestation on the barrier island of Gasparilla, where scientists estimate there are up to 12,000 iguanas on the loose, more than 10 for every year-round resident.

The frustration here has led to frenzy. Bonnie McGee keeps a pellet gun by her door ready to take on the slithering enemy.

"They eat your flowers and their feces is everywhere," she said, adding that she's killed dozens. "Some people toss them in the canal and the hermit crabs feed on them."

Actually, the thought of Jeb Bush up to his ankles in iguana feces has cheered me up a bit already. Have a good weekend!

April 21, 2006 in Mousetrap! | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

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