Brian and the girls went back to Annapolis. I hated seeing them leave even though when I was looking for my glass of water that was on the table in front of me Brian said “It’s right there you old coot”.  He also told me that I should think before I speak and if it’s a choice between mentioning my cat or keeping silent, mum’s the word.

I was forced to remind him that when he was a toddler, he and I were in the car when he started jumping up and down and crying because he had to go to the bathroom. I didn’t want him to be upset so I  told him he could pee on the floor of my brand new car. Even after all these years I can still see him stopping his rant,  looking at me in surprise and with a slight smile on his face he began to pee. Maybe he should remember that when he thinks about being fresh to me.

That shut him up. He said nothing as I showed the girls photos I’d taken of Elvis eating my curtains.

Cheryl’s still here doing her book things for “Elusion”,  soon to be a motion picture at a theatre near you.

Since Cheryl and her co writer Claudia did much of the writing of this best seller in my apartment, she and I have developed a comfortable living arrangement.

We watch the same TV programs ( That’s a lie. I have to watch all reality TV while she’s sleeping). Well we watch lots of things together . We just get along very well.

On each of her visits we have at least one dinner with David. Cheryl finds him endlessly entertaining and is not even offended at his introducing her as the only person in the family that was perfect until we (the Jews) turned her.

Today she’s out hawking her book while I prepare for a meeting with my accountant. I have to give him the final numbers for my taxes.

I’m thinking he might also appreciate a framed picture of Elvis eating my glasses. In spite of what Brian says, who wouldn’t want that?

I don’t usually do this but I’m going to give you a test.

Question: What are the signs that show that you’re old?

If you say grey hair, wrinkles, moves a little slower you are only partially right. You’d get a B.

I’ll explain.

My family is in town.

My niece Cheryl and her co-author Claudia are doing a reading tomorrow night to celebrate the release of their book, “Elusion”, soon to be a motion picture at a theater near you.

Cheryl and Brian and their two girls, Sadie and Lily, and their dog Bert (don’t ask how Elvis is dealing with this) are all staying at my house which is why last night I made dinner and Julie and Violet came over so the cousins could all be together.

Now a little back story. Only Cheryl was supposed to come yesterday.  Brian and the girls were to come later. A huge snowstorm where they live in Annapolis forced them to come earlier.

I should note that a huge snowstorm in Maryland is 1 to 5 inches. In New York we wouldn’t even put coats on for that.

Since I wasn’t expecting them I didn’t clear the table where I was preparing my tax stuff .

During the evening Violet walked over to my calculator and said “What’s this? A receipt machine?”

Now she’s 10 so though I was a little surprised that she didn’t know what it was I wasn’t as shocked as I was when Sadie age 15 and Lily age 14 joined in with puzzlement written all over their faces.

“It’s a calculator”

Lily, “What do you use it for?”

“To add up numbers. Haven’t you ever seen a calculator before?”

“Not alone. Why wouldn’t you use your Iphone?”

It was if I had left a butter churn in the middle of the living room.

“Because I have a calculator.”

“Wait, I have to try this” Lily started to pick up the calculator and started to scream with laughter. “IT’S PLUGGED IN!” Her sister, cousin, aunt and parents joined in. It was a real laugh fest.

Even now I don’t know what was so fuckin’ funny.

But if your answer to the question on the test was “You  have a calculator, one connected to electricity” you got an A.

I don’t want to turn this into a cat blog but I writes what I lives.

Did anyone ever see the movie “The Bad Seed”?

This beautiful little girl, Patty McCormick, shows the world a sweet, loving, “purring” (if you’ll permit me)  exterior but her inside is quite different. She kills a bunch of people and the story goes on.

When Elvis first came here he eyed the place and decided that this was a good spot to set up shop. But first he’d have to make himself attractive to the old bitch that runs it. Read the entries talking about when he first came. The little bastard knows what he’s doing.

He purred and rubbed himself  against her until she was putty in his claws, I mean , paws (the claws came later).

He even endeared himself to her neighbors and that couldn’t have been easy. Liz was a piece of cake. She misses her cat Puss and was easy game for him but David would have been more difficult.

Maybe to some cats,  but he’s wily. All he had to do was pretend to like him, a new feeling for David, nobody likes David. But a few rubs and purrs and David was toast.

Now that he feels secure his real self is out. He does shit just for spite. He walks past something on a table and he just whacks it off. Why? Because he can.

I’m never drinking a glass of water when he doesn’t walk over, stick his head in, take a few laps and keep walking. Not because he’s thirsty. He’s got bowls of water in two rooms. He just wants me to know that there is nothing in this house that is off limits to him.

He’s even started training me to move at hand signals. He smacks his bag of treats and I immediately take a handful and throw them on the floor ( he likes to gather them)

My hands are so cut up that it’s a good thing I’m not married any more. It would really hurt to wear a wedding ring. I have to admit that’s my fault though. Sometimes in my sleep I move them.

So how did “The Bad Seed” end?

(Spoiler alert) The mother finds out that her daughter is a killer and poisons them both.

Unfortunately the mother dies and the kid lives.

So if in the near future, one of my relatives offers you a sweet orphan cat, one that purrs and purrs (not for nuthin but that purring can really get old) RUN.

I enter the party to celebrate Lew Soloff’s birthday (you can google him).

My eyes darted around searching for someone I know.

I stop darting because I know plenty of people.

I spot the birthday boy talking to his friend Paul Shaffer (who is one of the hosts of the party)

I walk over , kiss them, give Lew his birthday present and try to pull off a joke that lies there like a lox.

(I gotta stop here. When you tell a joke that isn’t funny AND HAS A PROP (in this case a box of cereal but that’s all I’m going to tell you about that) in front of David Letterman’s sidekick the rest of the evening can only improve.

Paul and Lew , being kind, replaced the puzzled looks on their faces with smiles so I could slither away with some of my pride intact. At least that’s what I told myself.

The party was great. My two closest friends, Susan and Ronnie were there and loads of musicians I hadn’t seen in a long time.

We had cocktails, yapped and listened to the band.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Paul talking to Donatella Versace. You’re saying to yourself, “Why would Donatella Versace be at a musician’s party?  She doesn’t play anything.

The answer? Beats me but she was. I spent the next 40 minutes trying to get a picture of her without her knowing it.

It turns out I wasn’t able to which was ok because later someone told me that she was in fact not Donatella but the wife of someone from Lewie’s shul.

I had had 2 drinks by then which is a lot for me. I wasn’t drunk by any means but I was feeling happy.

Then Emile Charlap and his wife Diane came in.

You can google Emile too if you want but I’ll tell you a little about him.

For as long as I can remember, little or no music was done in New York without going through Emile’s office. Emile was New York music.  He’s 96 now and still goes into his office most days.

Oh yeah and he was the best man at my wedding.

I hadn’t seen either of them since dave and I broke up and I assumed it would be awkward if I did. I should have known  that I could handle it in a calm dignified way and it would be fine.

As soon as I saw him I put my arms around him and burst into sobs that went on way too long.

Par-tay!

We all sat around talking and laughing until I decided to go home since I was fairly sure that I was going blind.

I only found out why this morning when Ronnie sent me a picture of some of us and I realized that I was wearing sun glasses.

Last night on one of our  frequent Saturday night dates, Julie asked me an interesting question.

Since I named Elvis before I met him, am I still happy with that choice of a name?

I chose that name because I had never had a cat before. I knew nothing about cats but when  my niece Randy sent me videos of the sweet little ball of fur purring in her arms my heart skipped a beat. There was a mystery about this new pet. Knowing him would open a door to something different in my life, something somewhat strange and scary but it was an adventure I was willing to move into.

This was very much the way I felt when I first saw Elvis Presley on the Ed Sullivan Show at 12 years old. I took my allowance and bought Elvis’ LP (long playing record, an album, if you will) and carried it around until my father took pity on me and bought me a stereo.

I still can bring back the feeling I felt listening to Elvis singing;

“I’d live deep in the jungle and sleep up in a tree, and let the rest of the world go by, if you were there with me”

Well maybe looking at a kitten wasn’t exactly like that but you get the idea. Elvis Presley was my first love and I knew I would love this little strange guy in a way I hadn’t known before.

I was right. It was a new kind of love. Elvis is not like any dog I’ve ever had. Let me try and think of some of the adjectives that come to mind when I think of my little kitty.

The first one has got to be “vindictive”.

You playfully rub that little bastard’s tummy and you’ll wish you hadn’t. Immediately your hand is in a death grip with his needle like claws holding you in place. And somewhat like fish hooks, if you pull away they just rip more of your skin, so you are forced to move forward into those razor like teeth.

The next is “persistence”.

If  you  had a dog that enjoyed sitting on your desk in front of you while you’re at your computer, dancing on the keys and slapping the screen, You’d only have to tell him once that it wasn’t appreciated. This little fucker could care less . Jumping back up 13 times is nothing to him.

I’d have to put “misrepresentation of attitude” in there too.

He climbs up on your shoulder and purrs in your ear while rubbing himself against you. I can’t describe the affection and warmth I feel when he does that. It is short lived though because he clearly takes my feeling of pleasure as a sign of weakness . He invariably uses that opportunity to see if I do in fact have a jugular.

So would I still name him Elvis?

What difference does it make? He does what he wants and he doesn’t come when I call him anyway.

I’ve often spoken about the fun Susan and I have when we spend a day together. Quite often our friend Ronnie comes with us and that only makes it better.

I can’t explain why it’s so great. We don’t do anything special, maybe a hair cut, possibly a mani pedi, often  shopping or any task that one of us needs to do. A few weeks ago we searched Brooklyn for someone to notarize my will . Even that was fun.

One thing we always do is have lunch. We mostly go to the greek restaurant since Susan’s husband Allan refuses to eat there even though, as she’s told him many times he likes everything they have there, he’s just being stubborn.

Since this is a guy who rates his day by whether or not his wife is happy I can’t imagine why he won’t budge. z≈`Q

What were we talking about? Oh yes, how I can’t explain why those days are so great but we just love them and never have a bad time. Even when adversity strikes. We have learned to make the best of every situation and here’s an example of how two of the three of us did just that yesterday.

We were finishing lunch and Sue excused herself to go to the restroom. Just as she came back to the table her cell phone rang and she walked to the front of the restaurant to take the call so she wouldn’t disturb anyone.

Ronnie and I were deep in conversation so we didn’t look up until the sweetest man from the next table leaned over and said in a whisper,

“When your friend comes back, please tell her that she has a long piece of toilet paper hanging out of her pants.” You could see he was really pained to have to say this.

Loving our friend and knowing that this would mortify her we did what we could to give her this information without embarrassing her. Did we :

1. go over to where she was speaking on the phone and quietly remove the toilet paper without letting her know it was there ?

or

2. Scream with laughter and ask the guy to repeat it so that I could record it on my phone ?

I won’t tell you which we did but I’ve been spending the last hour trying to put that movie on here to no avail.

Also I got my toenails painted blue. Big mistake.

I had a lovely evening planned.

I was having Julie, Violet, our friend Brenda and possibly our other friend Claudia to dinner.

It turned out that Claudia couldn’t come but since Brenda has never been to my house I wanted my digs to look nice so I didn’t cook all week so I wouldn’t mess up the kitchen.

Last night David had a big party for his son so he put some bulky things in  my house to get them out of the way. I’m thinking their evening consisted of nine white guys in their twenties and early thirties drinking manhattans and talking rugby and french.

Early this morning I called David and told him to take his stuff back because I was entertaining.

This gave him license to rant about anyone coming over to my house to eat burnt chicken had to be crazy. I explained that I was making something fancy and I had no intention of burning anything. He sneered and followed me home. No sooner had he picked up his crap then I got an email from Brenda saying that she may have the flu and couldn’t come.

So it was just Julie and Violet. I wasn’t sure they would still come without Brenda.

I emailed David, “I think my dinner party may be cancelled”

His answer “Why? Did they hear what you were making?

Then I spoke to Julie and she said maybe we should make it another time.

To David, “My party was cancelled”

Julie called back to say that they were in fact coming.

I knew David was probably counting on me spending the evening with him and his son, Graham since I had told him my plans had fallen through. Therefore I thought it only right to tell him that I was no longer available.

He wrote back “Stop with these updates. We don’t give a rat’s ass”

Ouch.

Here’s why Twitter is great.

You find out how crazy you are or you aren’t because you see that there are or aren’t others like yourself.

Like today I saw a tweet from Ricky Gervais. It was a sweet picture of his face next to his cat’s face and it said,  “Don’t be fooled. She wants to bite my face off”

I can’t tell you what a relief that was to me.

Don’t get me wrong I love Elvis but I wasn’t lying when I said that I don’t get cats at all.

Remember the picture I posted yesterday? I’ll put it up again to remind you.

No one could ever say that that he isn’t adorable.

But here’s the truth. That little fluffy ball of cuteness hides a lot of weaponry.

See those cotton like feet? Buried inside them are needle like knives. Those kissable little lips hide teeth like razors. And he isn’t afraid to use any of them while purring up a storm.

Of course I’m just asking for it, I know. Why should I expect him to just stand by while I try to put on my socks? And typing this now? I might as well slap him in the face.

What? I decide to wear something with a drawstring? Or pull a blanket over me? I might as well cut my own hands with a knife if I’m going to live that dangerously. Luckily I don’t have to because the movement police are always watching.

I know that many people complain that cats ruin their furniture. Not me. I wait until he’s happily sharpening his nails on my couch to put on my shoes or drink a hot beverage. Wouldn’t want him to burn himself on his way to my throat.

If I had a dime for every time I say “ow” during the day I’d have enough money to afford all the band aids and tourniquets I’ll need to  avoid a full transfusion.

When my niece Randy gave me Elvis she warned me to be careful that he doesn’t trip me while he winds himself around my feet when I walk. What she didn’t mention was that he’s only doing that to see if he’s left any part of ankles that don’t have open wounds on them. Something that would surely fill him with dismay and he’d be forced to rectify.

But don’t worry he’s not going anywhere. Mainly because he’s really smart and if he hears me planning to give him away he’ll finish me off before I get a chance to act.

Luckily  he can’t read. At least I hope he can’t. What do you think?

When dave first told me about this other woman I asked him if he was going to marry her. He answered I don’t know, I don’t plan to. Her family wants us to. Maybe. Now that we don’t have a marriage any more I don’t know what will happen.

This was not an hour after he said that he didn’t want a divorce.

I know you’re saying that anyone in that position would lie but this was the first lie I had ever heard dave tell.

About a month ago I got an email from the Blue Note in Japan. It was clearly about dave’s upcoming tour but it was in japanese. It was also sent to 2 email addresses, mine, that they had been using for however long we’ve been doing business with them and another which was a feminine version of dave’s email address.

That’s when I realized that he may have married her.

I would have no way of knowing this. He lives in Japan and none of our friends would have told me if they knew. I didn’t ask because frankly I didn’t want to know.

So yesterday on my anniversary for no reason at all I google her first name with the last name Matthews and I saw her Facebook page with her and dave on it. This was the first time I knew what she looked like. In case you’re interested, nothing special but not as bad as I hoped.

I can’t really say how I felt. I think mostly numb. I didn’t feel jealous or even sad. I just made note of stuff without thinking why.

In several pictures he was wearing a Central Park sweatshirt that I had given him for Valentine’s Day and most of his clothes were familiar. He never shopped so I had bought them all. That bothered me more than him having his arm around her.

There were some pictures of them with musicians I knew and a reference to “the newly married dave matthews and his wife”.

Still nothing.

I went out to dinner with my dear friends Susan and Allan and we talked about it but didn’t dwell on it. We laughed as we always do and Susan said as her gift to me I can boss Al around any time I want. I immediately felt better. That truly is the only thing missing from my life.

Some people said that the weakness of my story is that it has no end. They’re wrong. It’s over now and the part that surprises me the most is that I couldn’t care less.

I know you’d love me to put a picture of the happy couple on here but I think I’ll give you something better.

As I was saying, the weather and mooning over my new cat Elvis has kept me from experiencing anything interesting enough to write about. You can imagine how happy I was this morning when I realized that today would have been my thirty ninth wedding anniversary.

I sat down at the computer thinking of putting down heartfelt phrases like “How long after divorce before the date of your wedding passes by unnoticed?”.

I love writing and believe me I could have really poured it on. There wouldn’t have been a dry eye in the house.

The response would have been predictable. Stephanie and Susan would be angry. Liz would be consoling, Marcia and Julie would feel terrible, David would call me a fucking idiot and for the most part the people who read my blog would be proud of me for enduring and tell me to keep my chin up.

I’m sitting here trying to put it together.

In 2011 dave told me he was in love with a Japanese woman.

He hung around drinking, mooning around the house feeling sorry for himself, I guess for being such a prick, Skyping his girlfriend from my den ( I could hear them talking to each other through the night. I assume mostly to say “Huh?” to each other since she spoke little english and his Japanese wasn’t perfect), taking her away on our boat a few times through the rest of 2011 and into 2012 when he finally moved to Japan to find true happiness.

In 2013 our divorce became final.

So without realizing it the answer to the question “How long after divorce before the date of your wedding passes by unnoticed?” I have to say is “Beats me but it’s sooner than you think”

From now on February 16th will be the day I celebrate Elvis helping me type