Letters Sent to the Cats during My Amazing Cruising of Route 66 in 2013 to Celebrate my 66th year! You go Girl!!!
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Hi Nick and Rose,
Look at my ride. Isn’t it just divine? Yes, I know you two little black-and-whites would look so cute inside with your little heads poking up and your licks smearing the windows. But remember, like I told you, this is my cruising down Route 66 — not yours. Don’t grumble — it is very unattractive. When you’re 66, you too can have your own kicks and I’ll stay home. Ok?
Back to the car — isn’t it just too, too fabulous? Believe it or not, I found it in a used car lot out in Western Ontario. Western Ontario! Do you believe that? Maybe they had thoughts of western-grandeur since they put that phony Route 66 on their office wall. Anyone who is anyone, knows that Route 66 starts in Chicago! But, I took it as a sign from the Route 66 Gods that this was the car for my trip. I tried not to think of Janet Leigh in Psycho when she bought the second hand car — or rather what happened to her later!!!
It is a classic Chevy, you know. I can be like Dinah Shore belting out “See the USA in your Chevrolet. America is Asking You to Call! S-M-A-C-K! (She always ended her song blowing a kiss to the whole country. God love her) I forgot, you’re too young to have remembered Dinah. Anyway, I felt all nostalgic when I saw this car. It reminded me of the 1958 Chevy Impala my brother Fritz had. It was the first car ever to come into my family. I was in motor-loving-heaven when I saw it — lavender bottom, white hard-convertible top and a front seat that you could scooch all the way over to sit beside the driver. Very snazzy for sure and my brother looked dashing sitting behind the wheel. He told me once that the car was nicknamed a “babe wagon”. (Try using that in our politically correct world, eh?) I never asked my brother if it worked or not — but I guess it didn’t since he left for the seminary the next year!
So me and my Chevrolet are on the road. I haven’t made it to Route 66 yet so I haven’t had any kicks. But when I do — I’ll be sure to give you full details. Be good. Don’t destroy anything just because you’re pissed about not being able to come with me. Next time…for sure.
Love and hugs,
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Hi Nick and Rose!
Here I am in Chicago — and you’re not!!! Hah, Hah, Hah! I’m sorry about that, but I’m just so excited to be here at the beginning of the beginning! My Route 66 road trip seems real now — not a dream. Don’t you think I look really cute in this picture? I can hear your
snide remarks all the way down here so just shut it, ok?
Chicago is a wonderful town, just like the song says. I haven’t met anyone dancing with his wife but the day is young. This is my first return trip to Chicago since the first Mayor Daley was mayor — the crooked one or were they all crooked?. Believe me that was a long, long time ago. I was just 21 years old! Imagine — it took me 45 years to get back! Crazy. That first visit was to see my sister, Susie, when she was training at the University of Chicago — and now I’m in Chicago on my way down to visit Susie in Oklahoma City — which is mighty pretty. (Get with the program! Google the lyrics of the Route 66 song, ok, so you can keep up on all my jokes. Remember you can’t tell the players without the progam.)
Well, I’m off to have lunch at the Russian Tea Time. It’s a splurge so early in my trip — but what the hell, eh? Take good care of yourselves.
Your guardian who is far-far-away
P.S. Yes, I know, the sign is upside down! But, really, does it matter?
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Dear Ms. Rose and Mr. Nicholas:
I debated about sending this picture to you because I didn’t want you to worry about me. I know that is unlikely since you are being well fed and entertained by your two favorite men in the whole world, Renaldo and Len, who, I am sure (at least Renaldo) are exceeding the Daily Dosage of Temptations that I had indicated on the Feeding The Cats directions. You probably don’t even miss me at all — well unless it gets cold at night and my legs aren’t there to curl up against. But knowing you two, you’d probably just put on those big-sad-eyed faces so Len would take you home with him.
Now, about this picture, when I snapped it, I was just a teeny-tiny, wee bit lost. (Is that like being a little bit pregnant, I wonder?). I was sure I was on the right road — I mean, how could I not be on the right road with that rather large, white Route 66 painted right in the middle of the blacktop? But the problem was, I wasn’t sure if I was going in the right direction. As you two know, I have a terrible sense of direction — well at least when it comes to North, South, East and West. The only way I know where South is in Toronto is if I see the CN Tower. And, as you can see, there is no CN Tower to guide me South towards Oklahoma and sister Susie. And — you might also note — there is NOTHING AROUND. No town. No gas station. No McDonalds (not that I would eat there). No Route 66 souvenir shop (of which there are thousands). Not even a Bates Motel to lure me in. N-O-T-H-I-N-G. I felt a little spooked with that much great outdoors around me.
I decided to just wait until sundown so I could see where West was located and hopefully, with that information in hand, I could figure out South. Stop laughing at me! Do you think you would do better, eh???? Yes, you can see in the dark but, really, do you know which DIRECTION you are going in? Hmm? Don’t remind me of those cats who find their way home over thousands and thousands and thousands of miles. Maybe we could test your sense of direction to see if you could find your way back to the alley in Chinatown (South) where you were born! Huh?
Well, just to ease your minds (as if you were worried), after a long, long wait for sunset, a lone pick up truck came by. I was a bit nervous. Visions of old Twilight Zone episodes rose in my head. But, as the driver got out of the truck, he looked at me like I was the alien from outer space. (Actually, I guess I was an alien with those Ontario license plates. He didn’t know my American roots now did he?). As he stared, I got up my nerve and asked him, “Which way is South? Please?” He moved a tad further away from me and closer to his truck as he pointed at what I presume was South. Then, without a word spoken, he jumped in his truck and sped away. I was alone again but at least not directionless.
Well, now that I know where South is, I’m on my way, just like the song says, to “Saint Looey, Joplin, Missouri…” and then to Oklahoma City which you already know is pretty! At least there I have Susie in case I get lost again. You might, if you have the time, say a few prayers to the Saints of All Directions to help me on my way. Please.
Your Lost but Not Yet Forgotten (Hopefully) Friend,
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To Be Continued…