Haughty Culture is a Little Punny

I found the following flyer on my windshield during my last visit to Manhattan. I don't know what to think of it, so I'm not.

Gustavo Gaston’s Guide to Way Off Broadway Musicals

Donkey Hotey -- The story of a kidney stone afflicted donkey trader who just can’t let go; features the hit song, “To Pee the Impossible Pee”.

On the Waterfront – The story of an incontinent boxer who always lets go; features the hit song, “I Coulda’ had Gas”.

Raging Mullet – The story of a brave boxer with an even braver hair style; features the hit song, “Smile Though Your Nose is Broken”.

Martha Stewart, the Musical! – The story of a white collar criminal working as a prison cook; features the hit song, “Don’t you Want Some Gravy?”

Annie – The story of a depression era unwed mother whose child suffers from bulimia; features the hit song, “(My Son Will Throw Up) Tomorrow!”

Phantom of the Oprah – The story of a murderous talk show host with the super-human ability to change size and shape; features the hit song, “Music of the Food (Slowly, Deftly, Snack Food Shall Caress You).”

Croak Back Mountain – The story of two frogs who like to sing around the campfire; features the hit songs, “I Left My Tail in San Francisco” and “Get Back”.

Harry Potty and the Chamber Pot of Secrets– The story of a gifted young wizard with potty mouth; features the hit song, “There’s a Bathroom on the Right”.

Harry Potty and the Stoned Sorcerer – The story of how Harry defeated the evil wizard Ganja; features the hit song, “More Than Herbs”.

Harry Potty and the Order of the French Fries – Greasy is the word in this story of how Harry foils the evil machinations of a sinister fry cook; features the hit song, “(Someday We’ll Dismember) Things We Ate Today”.

Gone With the Wind – The story of an antebellum bean farmer who dreams of building a better air freshener; features the hit song, “(Sometimes) All I Need is the Air That I Breathe”.

Cats – The story of an over-weight stray that aspires to be the next Tony the Tiger; features the hit song, “One-Ton Tigger is a Cereal Cat”.

Apocalypse Now, The Musical! – The story of a happy-go-lucky assassin who is sent up the river without a creek (Guest starring Brittany A Spear!); features the hit song, “Mekong Delta Dawn (What’s That Napalm You Have On?).

A Quantum of Solace – The inspirational story of a British secret agent’s struggle to prevent colonoscopy from being used for interrogation purposes; features the hit song, “The Long and Winding Road”.

[Note of no concern: Blogger.com's spellchecker informs me that "colonoscopy" should be replaced with "kaleidoscope". If only that were possible.]

On Killing a Mouse (with apologies to Mr. Orwell)

Killing a mouse and killing an elephant are two different things, aren’t they? Well, not entirely. I don’t see any justification for either unless it is to protect others – human beings, for example.

A nice and wide sticky trap and a lump of peanut butter was what it took. After the exterminator came earlier today and informed us that the mice were getting in through a gap between the wall and the floorboard behind the stove I placed two sticky traps in my room, which is the farthest place in the apartment from the kitchen before you plummet five stories down to the parking lot (for your trouble you’d get internal injuries, various broken bones, and a parking space too small for grown-up cars). One I placed at the entrance, the other by the heater, bookshelf, and storage box area. I ate lunch and took a nap as the wonderful aroma of peanut butter wafted through the room.

The screeching of a cassette tape going bad woke me. I hate that sound and that’s one reason why I switched to CD’s. But I think we all know that it wasn’t a cassette making that noise. Apparently my opponent was not as nocturnal as he would have me believe. I slid the boxes out of the way and there he was, all but his left hind leg stuck on the trap. He stopped screeching but I could see him breathing heavily. He was trembling. My heart sank. I looked at the label for the trap and discovered that unlike the sticky traps I’d seen before, this one from the exterminator contained no anesthesia. I got angry. The manufacturer, the exterminator, and I, through my failure to read the label, had all condemned this poor thing to either die of fright or, worse, dehydration -- so not good. Even an animal that is threatening your well-being does not deserve to suffer. Under other circumstances the same animal could be a loved pet.

I looked back at the mouse and thought about trying to get it off the trap, but I knew that was no good. The mouse’s bones would break and it's skin would tear before I got anywhere close to freeing almost all of his lower body from the glue. I’d do even more harm.

The thought of touching him made me think of the disease that mice spread. Suddenly I remembered my mother talking to the exterminator earlier in the day. Her hands were clasped below her throat. Her eyes were wide in fear. She told the man that she’d rather have an elephant in the apartment than a mouse.

I folded the cardboard trap (a brand I will never use again), doubling it over. Then, as I remembered my mother’s trembling, I struck right about even with where the mouse’s neck was. Sorry, mouse.

Terror at Fifty Feet

Two nights ago I was faced with a faceless enemy. I was up until past five in the morning with a case of indigestion; a rare condition for me. And that is when it happened. Something in my bedroom moved… it wasn’t me.

Pray tell, what horror lurks yonder? Alas, this event was foretold when, upon entering my bathroom not two days prior, I observed the tell-tale evidence; what to the untrained eye would appear to be small grains of burned rice on the toilet… mouse droppings.

I subsequently purchased and placed mouse traps and caught… nothing.

Convinced my diagnosis was incorrect I placed the little black plastic jaws of death away in a drawer. As the day wore on I even laughed at myself for entertaining the idea that a mouse would climb all the way up to the fifth floor of an apartment building and run along to the last bathroom in the last apartment to… use the toilet?

Now I had audio evidence. This noise clearly came from my room, not the upstairs neighbor who often has me convinced that we live underneath the set of Bowling for Dollars. So, at around five-thirty in the morning, after signing off Face Book where my friend Lisa had advised me to use peanut butter as bait, I set my traps between some storage boxes and a bookshelf. Not only is that where the noise came from, but I found that familiar style of Rice-a-Roni on the lowest shelf. I did not have the blind ambition to go the length of the apartment at that hour to get peanut butter. I’m a big fan of James Bond, so I used the next best high tech bait I could find without leaving my room… peanuts.

Now, I’m a realist and a pragmatist. I didn’t expect to catch anything that night because:

A. The night was almost over.
B. Mice are usually nocturnal.
C. I was too tired and sick to worry about it.
D. I still wasn’t entirely convinced of the existence of high-altitude, toilet-trained mice.

Well, the next night passed and looking down from above the boxes I could see that neither of the traps had been sprung. This afternoon I finally slid the boxes away and carefully lifted each trap to find… no peanut!

These traps spring just by breathing on them. You have to place them as if they’re loaded with nitroglycerine. How did the mouse steal the peanut not just once, but twice?! What kind of Hitchcock-inspired horror is this? So now I’m dealing with a high altitude, toilet-trained, ghost mouse with… Special Forces training?

Tonight I will use, with Lisa’s words haunting me… peanut butter!

So if you all stop hearing from me I want you to know that whatever happened to me, no matter how much it looks like an accident, it was the mouse that got...