There comes a time, and October is as good a time as any, when the sounds of trumpets fill the air. But when you listen a little more closely, you discern that the sounds are not emanating from trumpets at all, but from noses. Hundreds of noses. Thousands of noses, big and small, all being blown at the same time. A symphony of sinuses, if you will. Leaves aren't the only thing falling this time of year, it seems.
And that's where we begin things on this October 14th, the day after Friday the Thirteenth, which is -- as any fool knows -- Just Another Day. And it was, so there's really nothing more to go on about in this paragraph.
But, on the other hand, there is plenty to talk about if we change the subject to cats. Cats with fluffy tails. Cats running around chasing demons, howling and mewling and being as ferocious as their tiny bodies allow. Cats building up to a full-speed gallop, only to hit the wooden floor and try to stop and find themselves sliding into the ..... Splat! ... wall. Ooops!
It's entertainment. You take what you can get on a Saturday morning, unless you have the courage to turn on the television and watch cartoons. I haven't done that since the Golden Days, when Rocky and Bullwinkle were still fresh and when there were still one or two Bugs Bunny cartoons I hadn't seen more than forty-three times. Like the one where he keeps running into Humphrey Bogart, who asks him if he can help out a fellow American in distress.
And that's where I come in, building up to a sneeze, looking for a Kleenex(tm). If you happen to run across me with that peculiar look on my face, could you help out a fellow American in distress?
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