A green and red birthday

I don’t remember all of my past birthdays, but I’m pretty sure this is the first one that started out in a cemetery. Each December the organization Wreaths Across America lays wreaths on the graves of veterans. In 2013 at Arlington National Cemetery, they laid 143,000 wreaths and in 2014 (the 150th anniversary of Arlington) the goal was 227,000. I’m not sure if they reached the goal, but regardless there were literally tons of wreaths that needed to be disposed of in January and, due to the logistics involved, it had to be done in a single morning.

About the only time I find myself riding the Metro before 08:00 on a weekend is when I run the Army Ten Miler. It’s always comforting on race day to enter a car and see a bunch of race bibs (translation: I’m on time and headed in the right direction). Boarding the car on Saturday what I saw instead was an assortment of poles, some attached to brooms or rakes and some disconnected from their original purpose. The poles, per organization guidance, would be helpful in piling on the wreaths for their trip to the dumpster. I was carrying two busted umbrellas for that purpose.

Since this was my first time volunteering, I didn’t know how many people to expect and, thus, how long the project would last and how sore I’d be the next day. When my train arrived at the Arlington stop, at least 100 people disembarked, a good sign. Along the 1/2 mile walk to the meeting point, I could see that hundreds more people were already at work, ahead of the official 08:30 start time. After some brief instructions, the group who arrived with me was pointed towards a nearby section to join in.

The reason I had two umbrellas is that I envisioned carrying one in each arm, both loaded up with wreaths. That vision did not recognize the need for a third arm to load up the other two, which dawned on me as soon as I reached the first wreath. So, the two umbrellas stuck together in one hand while the other hand loaded them up. On each trip to the closest dumpster I managed 10 – 16 wreaths, which I’m guessing weighed 30 – 60 pounds. The umbrellas worked out pretty well since I was working as an individual. Others teamed up and were able to use longer poles held between them. In addition to the household items mentioned before, the variety of carriers included hockey sticks and tree branches, but the smart people (veterans of previous operations, I imagine) used ropes so that they could drag a line of wreaths along the ground.

I ignored the organization’s advice about wearing waterproof shoes – the trail races I do often involve running across streams in cold weather, so my running shoes were sufficient for the day. I wish they had mentioned waterproof pants, though. It wasn’t until I wanted to take a picture and reached into my pocket to pull out a dripping wet phone that I realized how thoroughly soaked my jeans had become from the wreaths.

With hundreds of volunteers working, everyone was constantly on the move, swarming over a section like ants, then seeking out new areas that hadn’t yet been picked clean. En route, I instinctively tidied up personal wreaths and other mementos that had been disturbed by the passing throngs, partially out of respect and partially out of OCD. Given the surroundings it was a strangely festive atmosphere, helped by the fact that many volunteers were there with family and friends. It was also an operation whose demographics were such that I was likely below the median age, something I appreciated on a day the odometer had rolled over once again.

By 09:45, I was scanning the horizon in all directions and not finding anything left to do. The general ambling of the throng towards the exit backed up that impression. As I walked back I read random headstones in passing, stopping at a number to see the mementos and notes left by loved ones, some of which were quite moving. The sections I had worked in were relatively new, with end dates in the last ten years and occupants ranging from way-too-young to centenarians.

The efficiency of the operation got me back home much sooner than expected. It was definitely good to have a chance to dry off before heading back out into the cold and mud to walk the dog (A pile of poo for my birthday? How thoughtful!). I wrapped up the day’s festivities with a blood donation where I was just glad to be horizontal for a while and once again below median age.

TaxiMagic vs. Uber

My work/life don’t often place me in a position where I need to hire a ride. As a result, prior to last week I had never tried Uber and I can’t remember the last time I took a cab.

Following a CocoaHeads meeting last week, I was part of a group of eight who were walking to a Metro station when a thunderstorm broke out. Another member of the group called an Uber SUV which, though I think they’re only stated to hold six, managed to cram us all in for a brief trip to the station. Thus, Uber was already on my mind when I needed a way to pick up my car from the garage this morning.

I had set up my Uber account and downloaded the app last night in anticipation, so this morning I fired up the app (happily noting that a driver was a mere six minutes away), set a pick-up and drop-off location, then simply waited for my ride. That’s how I wish it had worked. After setting up the trip, however, I was told I couldn’t proceed until I verified my mobile number. Unfortunately I never received the verification txt after several attempts. My email address verification failed as well. When I’ve provided a credit card number and am obviously using the mobile app (which can send me notifications), the insistence on verifying my txt abilities is baffling and I had to give up after firing off a note to customer support.

One of the people I’ve met at the CocoaHeads meetups is Nitin Alabur, whose company makes the app TaxiMagic. Since Uber was out for today’s ride I decided it was time to give TaxiMagic a try. It’s very similar in concept to Uber – making the process of hiring a ride easier and more informative – only using traditional taxi services instead of individual vehicles.

The app setup was quick and didn’t require jumping through verification hoops like Uber. The payment entry included a nifty scanner mode that uses the phone’s camera to quickly OCR the credit card number. The scan was flawless, but unfortunately after submitting the info it said that my Discover card failed validation. A second flawless scan of my Visa ended in success, however, so I was on to ordering the ride.

Again, the process was the same as Uber, setting a pick-up and drop-off location, looking at an estimate of the fare, then ordering the ride. Then I waited. And waited. I didn’t check the time I started, but I estimate it was about twenty minutes before a ride was finally confirmed. I’m in the suburbs, so I can understand a bit of a wait, but this seemed excessive. The taxi was about ten miles away, so it was another fifteen minutes until I was picked up.

The driver asked me the best way to get to the destination, which was a bit disappointing given that the directions were “go down the road we’re on, then turn right on the destination road.” Nonetheless, in about fifteen minutes I was at the garage ready to pick up my car. The back seat of the cab had a TaxiMagic box with a credit card swiper and a screen with fare information, tip options, etc. Unfortunately, I used the swiper to pay for the ride before thinking of checking the app. Since I didn’t pay through the app, the $10 startup credit I had in my account wasn’t used so I paid the full fare. The credit is good through the end of the year, at least.

It was very disappointing that my fifteen minute ride was preceded by ninety minutes messing with two apps. Even so, I’ll definitely try both again. Uber has the advantage of giving a time estimate up front and the wait times I’ve seen were much quicker than my wait for the taxi today. When I’m in D.C. or otherwise near a more taxi-dense area I think either app would serve me well.

Ever Wished That Calvin and Hobbes Creator Bill Watterson Would Return to the Comics Page? Well, He Just Did.

Smart move not posting this anywhere near April 1. Looking back at the strips I can definitely see his style.

Pearls Before Swine

Bill Watterson is the Bigfoot of cartooning.

He is legendary. He is reclusive. And like Bigfoot, there is really only one photo of him in existence. 

Few in the cartooning world have ever spoken to him. Even fewer have ever met him.

In fact, legend has it that when Steven Spielberg called to see if he wanted to make a movie, Bill wouldn’t even take the call.

So it was with little hope of success that I set out to try and meet him last April.

I was traveling through Cleveland on a book tour, and I knew that he lived somewhere in the area. I also knew that he was working with Washington Post cartoonist Nick Galifianakis on a book about Cul de Sac cartoonist Richard Thompson’s art.

So I took a shot and wrote to Nick. And Nick in turn wrote to Watterson.

And the meeting…

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Foster cat diary, part 3: The Grey Fox

In part 2, I covered Goober’s progress from the time he was placed in the cage until the time we were preparing to separate him from The Grey Fox. Goober’s cage was in our basement and the plan was to catch The Grey Fox and put him in a cage on the first floor of our house. Up to this point, our own two cats had been mostly kept out of the basement except for a couple of supervised visits. Putting The Grey Fox on the first floor meant he would have to deal with our cats’ presence, but would also hopefully be able to benefit from getting used to being around other cats and seeing them interact with us. At the same time, we were hoping Goober would grow to depend on us for comfort without his brother around to use as a crutch.

The animal shelter loaned us a cage just a little smaller than the one that Goober was living in. Unfortunately, the cage had previously been used by strong-jawed dogs, judging by the bent bars and broken welds. Since some of the bends were big enough to present a risk of The Grey Fox getting his head stuck, I spent some time straightening them out as best I could. I wrapped sisal rope around one particularly big gap with broken welds, blocking the hole while also creating a small scratching post (which The Grey Fox has never used as far as I can tell).

Getting The Grey Fox in the cage was a little trickier than it was for Goober since he didn’t have Goober’s tendency to hide in small places. We spooked him into a hallway in the basement where I could block off access to the main room with a blanket while my wife tried to grab him with a towel and put him into a carrier. It took a few tries, but she finally nabbed him and we got him into the cage without injury to anyone involved. He went through the same first day of exploring and trying to escape as Goober had before settling down.

The Grey Fox relaxing in his cage.

The Grey Fox adapted to the cage much more quickly than Goober, without as much disruption to his eating and litter box use. It wasn’t long before he was looking relaxed in the cage and lounging out on top of his perch even when we were walking by. His self confidence made the petting exercises progress much more slowly than for Goober, though. The Grey Fox would hiss, bat, and/or bite at the wand at times and never reached a point of relaxation while being petted. At best he would barely tolerate the petting session, his tail twitching the whole time. He would still lick baby food from my fingers, though, and quickly became comfortable enough during meals to start eating before my hand had even left the plate.

Since The Grey Fox responded well to catnip, I used that on occasion to mellow him out so that he would accept the wand pettings more readily. This worked well sometimes, but other times he would simply eat the catnip leaf and not show any effect. Our cats’ presence provoked hisses at first, but The Grey Fox quickly became used to them and would only hiss if they came directly up to the cage while he was in the litter box. When we played with a mouse or bird toy with our cats, he would track the movement and eventually he began to play with the toys when we would move them into the cage.

With his brother separated from him, Goober unfortunately became more fearful and slightly aggressive, lashing out suddenly at times to an extent that we were unable to continue with the hand and brush pettings and we generally lost progress with the socialization. Once The Grey Fox was caged, we had also allowed our own cats back into the basement. Goober would hiss and swat the cage whenever either of them passed by, so we elevated the cage onto a coffee table to give him a little more privacy and a more secure position. This helped, though it didn’t fully eliminate the problem.

By this point we had had the fosters for more than a month. The time commitment and stress of everything we had to deal with was starting to wear on us. Our own cats were also having issues – one was starting to spray more frequently (he’s fixed, but has had spraying issues due to other factors) and the other was starting to become withdrawn, hiding away for much of the day. Because of these factors, we decided it was time to move the foster cats on to a rescue or another foster home. Despite their progress they were nowhere near ready to be adopted to a normal home.

We contacted the shelter to let them know and, in the mean time, made plans to move Goober’s cage upstairs next to his brother’s. What we had hoped to accomplish with the separation hadn’t happened. We were still unsure if putting them back together was a good idea because we weren’t sure if they would be able to stay together when they moved on. The Grey Fox had been perfectly fine when separated from Goober, so keeping them together would only hold him back from possible single placement. Homing them separately would be detrimental to Goober, however, unless he could learn to become independent of his brother.

In the next post I’ll cover the reunion of the brothers and our progress since then.

Foster cat diary, part 2: Goober

At the end of part 1, Goober had just been put into a large cage to keep him from endangering himself in unsafe hiding spots and to begin attempts at socialization. For the first couple of days we mostly left him alone to acclimatize to the cage and kept part of the cage covered with a blanket to ease the transition.

At the start we had a “donut” bed on the floor of the cage along with a sturdy cardboard box (to give him something to jump up on until I could set up a better shelf), and free-standing water and food bowls. His first couple of nights in the cage, his exploring and attempts to find a way out resulted in the water and food bowls being spilled, causing the donut and box to be soaked (eventually I got bowls that mount to the bars of the cage). He never did use the donut, so that was removed. The cardboard box was then fixed to the back of the cage with packing tape to keep Goober from spinning it around so that we couldn’t see him.

The first part of the socialization process involved placing food on the end of a plastic wand (like the handle of a cat toy) and offering it to the cat, then using a cloth-wrapped end of the wand to pet the cat. The idea is to keep your hands as far away as possible while getting the cat used to being touched and rewarding him for accepting the touches. Goober wouldn’t even sniff the food that was offered, he just sat scared and staring, making himself as small as possible. He didn’t protest the petting with the wand – he didn’t react to it at all.

In order to track their progress, I made up a socialization scale to measure their reaction to the food and the petting. Each scale goes from zero to three. For the food, Goober started at a zero – no visible reaction. For the wand petting, he started at a one – allowed petting, but didn’t react positively (zero would be attacking the wand). The hope was to get each statistic up to a three consistently, meaning approaching the wand and licking the food off then showing a significant positive response to the petting.

Goober’s catatonic state during the feeding/petting sessions made it hard to know if he would ever show any progress. We ordered some herbal calming drops and treats, but never noticed any significant effects. Over the course of the first week, however, he seemed to accept the petting more and showed signs that he might be enjoying it a little (squinting, relaxing his body). It still always started with a fearful response, though.

Since he was accepting the wand pettings, I switched to a regular brush towards the end of the first week. Even though this put my hand in close proximity to him, which raised the initial fear response, he seemed to enjoy the actual brushing even more. The next day, I pet him with a couple of fingers while using the brush and by the end of the day was petting him with a full hand and scratching his cheeks/chin. The normal process called for using a gloved hand at first, with the assumption the cat would react negatively, so the progress was impressive.

Goober being brushed/petted early in the socialization process.

During the first week, we were also concerned that Goober wasn’t eating very much and wasn’t leaving much in the litter box. Everything eventually improved, but we were on the verge of bringing him to the vet and weren’t relishing the idea of trying to get him into a carrier (especially knowing that he has never had his claws clipped).

Goober relaxes in his bed. I attached carpet padding covered with old pillowcases to the inside and top of a wooden box to give him a comfortable bed and shelf.

Over the next couple of weeks, Goober continued to improve, eventually reaching the point where he would lick food off of our fingers and would start eating his meals while we were petting him. Although the progress was great, it was still sitting on top of fear that hadn’t seemed to change. Goober always withdrew a little at the start of each session and never showed signs of welcoming our presence. The next step in the socialization process was to briefly pick the cat up by the scruff, then set them back down and give them a treat in order to introduce the idea of being picked up and eventually held. Goober never seemed ready to move to this step, though we began making plans to try it – he had surprised us with his acceptance of petting, so maybe this would go smoothly as well.

While all of this was going on, The Grey Fox was still loose in the basement. When he would walk near Goober’s cage, Goober would walk over, meow a little, and rub up against the cage bars. He definitely missed his brother, but his brother showed no signs of returning the affection. Before being caged, we had observed The Grey Fox mounting Goober while Goober quietly protested. As the more assertive, bolder cat, The Grey Fox had also been monopolizing the food prior to Goober’s caging. It saddened us to think that Goober’s only contact for eight years was with a dominating cat who at the same time was his only source of comfort. The two seemed to feed off of each other’s energy, so we decided it was time to separate them, at least for a while.

I catch up The Grey Fox’s story to this point in part 3.

Foster cat diary, part 1: Introduction

After my wife and I started volunteering at the animal shelter, we began to consider fostering shelter cats as well, but the disarray of our basement made us hold off for a while. Since we have two cats of our own, the idea was that the foster cats would live in the basement where we could keep them separated from our own cats. When an extended brownout broke our FiOS box, the scheduled visit by the Verizon tech provided the necessary impetus to clean things up (after all, he couldn’t fix the box if he couldn’t reach it). Four days after the basement cleaning/tech visit, the shelter issued an emergency request for fosters for a pair of new arrivals who were terrified of being in the shelter.

The next day, March 20, we picked up two nearly identical grey cats who were huddled together inside a feral cat carrier. These cats had been surrendered to the shelter after living for eight years in their owner’s basement. Although they had lived indoors most of their lives, they had never been socialized, so they were very fearful of humans – content to occupy the same general space, but only from a safe distance. No petting, no grooming, just drop off the food and leave us alone. For now we’ll refer to them as Goober and The Grey Fox.

The Grey Fox, hiding behind the couch in his first day of fostering.

When we got them home, I set the carrier in the basement bathroom and opened the door. Although our contact at the shelter thought they might just stay cowering in the carrier for a while, The Grey Fox immediately ran out and hid behind the toilet. For the first few days we planned to leave them alone as much as possible to allow them a chance to explore and become comfortable in their new surroundings. During this time, The Grey Fox was content to hide behind the couch or behind the TV, but Goober quickly began seeking out more secure hiding spots.

A day later he wedged himself into a tiny space behind a large cabinet. It took an hour of searching and heavy lifting to find him and get into a position to prod him out. He was so still and in such an awkward position while I was working to get to him that I was worried he was injured or worse. Even prodding him with a wooden dowel didn’t elicit any response. Eventually, though, he got freaked out enough to run to another hiding spot and seemed to be fine. This began a daily ritual of finding Goober, then blocking off the more worrisome hiding spots he had found.

Goober on the night vision camera, relaxed while we’re elsewhere.

While we were letting the cats acclimatize, we began researching how to socialize them. We ran across a PDF “Socializing Very Shy or Fearful Cats” that described a method used for dozens of cats from a major hoarding case. The method requires the cats to be individually confined in cages that are big enough for them to move around, but small enough that they don’t have room to hide so that they can be forced to interact with humans. We had one large cage of about 48″ W x 28″ D x 32″ H and began planning how to set it up for Goober. We also set up a pan/tilt/zoom security camera so that we could monitor their activity when we were upstairs (which was the only time they left their hiding spots at first).

On the morning of March 28, I did my usual morning rounds searching for Goober, but couldn’t find him anywhere. I had to leave early for a conference so I couldn’t continue searching, but I wasn’t too worried. That night, however, my wife informed me that she hadn’t seen Goober all day. After a thorough search I finally located him. There is a five foot tall, four foot wide bookcase that Goober hid behind in his first couple of days in our basement. I had blocked off both ends behind the bookcase with four foot tall boxes that filled almost all of the space in back. Almost. Goober had jumped on top of the bookcase, then down into a one foot gap between the boxes. So, there he had been trapped in a four foot high, one foot wide well for at least fourteen hours and possibly a full twenty-four. We definitely had to get him in the cage for his own safety.

Two days later we had the cage ready and I set out a long, narrow box on the floor that I figured would appeal to Goober as a hiding spot. The next morning I peeked in the box and found that he had taken the bait. I quickly moved the open end of the box into the cage, upended it, and closed the door.

In the next post I cover Goober’s cage time.

Non-vegetarian tofu dishes

Growing up, tofu was not actually food, it was just this weird concept I had heard about, probably from someone in California. And what I heard was that it was something hippies used to make awful meat substitutes instead of just eating yummy meat. My first couple of experiences trying it as an adult were unfortunately along those lines and only reinforced that impression.

Eventually I did get to eat some tasty Asian tofu dishes which salvaged its reputation somewhat. I still thought of it as something that was used in a dish in place of meat, however, either for health, cost, or philosophical reasons. The concept of a non-vegetarian tofu dish seemed like an oxymoron.

That perception changed a couple of years ago when we got the cookbook Asian Tofu by Andrea Nguyen. In several recipes from the book, tofu is used as an accompaniment to meat instead of a replacement and the results are excellent. One example is Qe nqaij qaib xyaw taum paj (which is Hmong, but would also make an excellent cryptogram) or “Tofu Chicken Meatballs in Lemongrass Broth.” This is to be read as “Tofu and chicken”, not Tofu “chicken” (though in our house it’s usually tofu and ground turkey, just not Tofurkey). The dish is great – tasty, filling, healthy, and relatively easy to make.

Another example from the book that has become a staple for us is Ma Po Dou Fu or “Spicy Tofu with Beef and Sichuan Peppercorn.” Again, we tend to substitute ground turkey for the beef. Finally, this past week my wife found a recipe online for “Silken Tofu with Spicy Sausage.” The first batch was polished off in record time and a second batch was made, and finished, immediately thereafter.

We do make a number of purely vegetarian tofu dishes as well, including a delicious Korean banchan that requires considerable willpower not to scarf it all down in one sitting, but the meat/tofu combination dishes hold a special place on our household menu.