Did I make the right decision? (Audience response encouraged)
Today was a first for me, about 20 minutes ago I turned down a story after an editor offered it to me. My name had been suggested by the contributing writing coach. I have never turned down a story that was offered to me before, so I'm kind of questioning my choice.
The story was a Scene and Heard - a short slice of life piece in the front of the book. It's one of my favorite sections. The assignment was to go to the Cat Fanciers
Association show next weekend and find a kitty-cat tale for the magazine. I would love to do this story, but as I've mentioned before on this blog - I'm allergic to cats. So the idea of going into an show room full of cat dander and fur just didn't seem like a good idea. Particularly when I can't even spend more than 10 minutes in Patrick's apartment (his roommates have cats) without sneezing. Right. Putting myself in the middle of the flying fur would have been a bad idea. I would have been sneezing all over cats and their owners and that's no story.
Some of my most miserable childhood memories involve cats - my eyes swollen shut, incessant sneezing. As a child, I blamed the cats - I didn't do anything to them, I just wanted to pet them. Originally I liked cats. But I couldn't be around them.
To this day, I am uncomfortable around cats. I don't even like them to touch me. My favorite thing to say to a cat is "Go'on. Git."
Still there's a part of me that would really love to do the story. I mean a cat show - what even happens at a cat show? And the Maine Coon cat breed will be there - those things get to be 20 pounds.
Alas. Did I make the right decision?
10.12.2005
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15 comments:
Covering a cat show is nothing to sneeze at. It's good we never took you to Broadway to see Cats.
Hey, you're decisions are you own. Plus, if you've already said No, pondering your options is kinda moot. I share your cat allergy, so I can't fault your reasons, but remember that all those hard hitting journalists out there often go where they don't want to go.
It's VOX. You're going to put your health at risk (albeit a small one) for VOX? This is a question? Of COURSE you did the right thing.
Plus, anyone who breeds any kind of animal for anything other than work or food is clearly a lunatic, and not the kind of person you want to be trapped in a room with, especially en masse.
Maybe the show would have a cat with a wooden leg and you would write a story about his faux paw. Or, would that be a faux pas?
I didn't think cats at a posh cat show had dandruff. Otherwise, how would they be able to wear black?
Would your story have appeared in the litter box?
I don't think whoever "anonymous" is should be allowed to comment anymore.
lol i am not anonymous but i respect his work. lol. faux pas...nice.
csp,
when have you ever seen someone get a cat to do work? also, when have you seen one eaten? sorry, these questions were begging to be asked.
Best case scenario - say you get the smartest cat in the world...it still poops in your house. I am allergic too - You made the right call.
Sara's grandma ate a cat taco once when she was pregnant and living in Hayti Missouri. They arrested the guy that sold it to her. Under the floor of his house they found a whole lot of cat skeletons. The town folk were going to lynch the guy so the sheriff moved him from the Hayti jail to Jefferson City. When he got out of the big house he moved to Texas. Anyhow, we always thought that was why Aunt Sally was furry. It's probably why Sara is allergic too.
Dad - couple of points:
1) It was not a cat taco - it was a cat tamale. The mexican sold it out of a cart that he operated.
2) It was not a one time occurence - Grandma told me that she tried to get one everytime she saw the guy - until they threw him in jail. Of course, Grandma was already old when I met her so the story could have grown by then.
For historical reference the lynching part is true. Grandma was born in 1906 and this takes place sometime in the thirties in the Bootheal - so lynching was not out of the question (and in that part of the state i am not sure it is yet out of the question).
Aunt Sally was a complete loon and now that I think about it - catlike. She only liked you if you if it suited her (or sold her a Mercedes for a dollar) and was kind of moody.
Sara and I are allergic and I am now going to blame it on cat tamales.
Following this post I will write a new post. It is on the cat topic and is one of my favorite stories ever.
James at 36 (Bonus for any of you wizards that can figure out that reference)
Chang
Before Sara was born - way back in the seventies when I was an only child, my parents got ambitious and decided we should have pets along with our new house in the 'burbs. I think i was 7 - my daughters current age. We got an English Bulldog and named him Eli and we also got a Siamese cat that we named Chang.
Long story short - Chang was an asshole. Mom had him de-clawed and he became even worse. Mainly he started peeing on everything, all over the house. Something had to be done - Quick!!!
It was decided that we would take Chang to the shelter and let someone adopt him - if that didn't happen by two weeks or so, they would gas him. Keep in mind - this was 1977-78 or so - there were still holdover hippies (kind of like Columbia 2005). Anyway, Mom takes the cat and starts talking to the stoner behind the counter. He explains that if no one wants Chang they will gas him in two weeks, and the cost is $50. Mom, in a fit of guilt, asks the guy if she can pay $100 and give Chang a four week window of opportunity. The guy said "SURE!"
Mom came home and proudly told Dad - closest thing to a PETA moment she has ever had. Dad stood slack-jawed...couldn't speak...and then proceeded to explain that the stoner had probably already bought his C-note worth of weed...right after he threw Chang in the oven.
It was tamales. Grandma use to wait by the front gate every afternoon for the little Mexican with the push cart to come down the street. She liked those tamales. The bigger she got with aunt Sally the more she craved those tamales. Grandma wasn't one of the people that wanted to lynch the guy. In fact when she learned that they were cat tamales she wasn't even angry. She just said, "Well, they were pretty good tamales." Over the years grandma had a few extremely well behaved cats. They would jump on her lap and purr. She would gently pet them. And, I always suspected, whisper what a fine sandwich they'd make.
As far Sara's mom taking Chang to the shelter when she got home she sat Jimmy and his dad down and told them, "Let this be a lesson to you!" Jimmy quit peeing all over the house.
At the risk of being catty your fellow Texan, Dan Rather, tied himself to a tree to report on a hurricane. Couldn't you chain yourself to a scratching post?
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