Skinny cats

So, overheard at work today, “more than one way to skin a cat”, or some such words to the same effect. It got me thinking, when would it ever be prudent to skin a cat, and why would one need more than one good proven method of so doing. Ok, aside from the taxidermist to whom your great Auntie Stainer took her precious whiskles to prosperitize forever, I mean, surely they’d know how to skin a cat, maybe even more than one way, perhaps nine even, but who else would use this valuable skill? I’ve done my share of hunting large game and can skin elk, deer and the like, but always as a precursor to eating same.

Perhaps if I was lost at sea with just me and a cat in the boat, I would find the ability to catskin worthy knowledge; although, the cat could survive longer on me than I would on it. Still, I’d like to be the one to choose. Now, say there are two cats in the boat with me, that whole ‘needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few’ (or the one) thingie comes in to play. However, they’d survive half as long and I’d survive twice as long (this all assumes our water needs have been met of course) and I’d still like to be the one who chooses. I suppose at that point I could use a second way to skin a cat, but if successful on the first go, why try something new or unproven. If unsuccessful on the first attempt, then that can’t count as a way to skin a cat now could it? Still only need one way to skin that thing, just a thought.





This Are SpaceBug

So, I thought I might try a blog. This won’t necessarily be a dialy blog, in fact, it necessarily won’t be a daily blog. Aside from the fact that I really don’t have much to say, I oft spend time in places I can’t get online, and I’m kinda lazy.

First off, the spacebug moniker. That was hung on me by a musician friend a few years back. The Eclectic Amalgamated SpaceBug Experience is the name of my band, or would be if I had a band. (I’m not a real musician, but I play one on gigs. -bonus points if you’re old enough to get the commercial reference). Two of my brothers and I were in studio to add a few bits to another friends album. The studio owner ‘had’ to take a picture of the three of us. At that time, I was sporting a one year old beard which had just about reached ZZ Top proportions. Epic photo. A large print hangs in that studio to this day. I had on a low-hung hat and sunglasses enlisting the comment “he looks like a little spacebug”.

Some other friends had a weekly gig which I often attended. When I shaved the beard off a few months later (I saw my shadow) and walked in to their gig, one promptly blew the vocal line.  Shock value is my friend at times.