Sunday, November 29, 2009
My Big UnFabulous Gay Life
originally uploaded by Alan Vernon..
Last night I attempted to get some sleep, but I was surrounded by domesticated, and undomesticated critters. Up on my bed was our cat, and underneath the covers to my right was our dog. This is not a common occurrence, and why they thought I would let them sleep there the whole night I don't know. But, since they were there, and both looking so cozy, I thought...how bad could it be?
I live in the city of San Francisco, in a small row house on a hill. For many years we have been visited each winter by a very large raccoon. My suspicion is that he lives under our back deck by day, and causes complete pandemonium among the many feral cats fed by my next door neighbor by night. Our raccoon visitor is mostly harmless, yet I remember one night coming home from dinner out with Michael and the kids. As we approached the stairs leading to our front door, we realized the raccoon was on the roof, glaring down at us. As we would take a step forward, he would lean forward. Once we were on to his game we all stopped in our tracks, looked at each other, and somehow decided Michael would be the guy for the job. With with fear tossed by the way side, and to look like the big tough guy in front of the kids, Michael stormed up the stairs. It was a classic game of chicken, and this time Michael won.
Anyway, back to the present, the raccoon has been back for a couple of weeks now. Last night he kept trying to get into our basement by way of the back door. When he couldn't get in he would try to peer into my bedroom window. Of course our "huge" 10 lb. poodle-mix dog was barking up a storm. Our resident squatter, the raccoon, would make a horrible squealing sound, then return to his pestering of the nearby cats. This went on about every hour on the hour last night. Not exactly what you would expect here in the big city, but kind of funny none the less.
By dawn's early light, I'm sure I was looking a bit worse for the wear as I emerged from my bedroom. But, today was the last day of the kids' five day holiday. I had put off cooking for several days now, and had a refrigerator full of the makings for a Thanksgiving meal. Since we ended up at a friends house on Thursday, I was able to put off cooking this meal until now. Today was the last possible day to devote so much time to creating our feast. In between cooking the various dishes I managed to wash, dry and fold 5 loads of laundry, give my 15 year old lessons in how to fold his clothes, and help my youngest son with a large homework assignment that we forgot was due on Monday. Well, at least I forgot. It's now 9:30pm, the boys are asleep, I think, and I'm keeping watch to be sure all is well. My 11 year old's bedtime feedback tonight was that I am in serious need of a shave. "Sure son, I'll get right to it."
As I walked across the living room, through the dining area, on my way to the kitchen, I look across the room to the large wall mirror. My vision is not that clear, given my lack of sleep, and my ever decreasing with age night vision. I strain to see an image staring back at me with two very dark circled eyes, a head of brassy salt and pepper hair, and increasingly white facial whiskers.
Is that damn raccoon back already?