Thursday, February 22, 2007

Lost Vegas & the cat scratch

impossible songs

Lost Vegas and the cat that scratched too much.

The cat has the very annoying habit of trying to gain your attention by digging his claws into a) your legs b) your thighs and if he is truly desperate to engage with you c) your groin. Having a cat hang onto your groin by the claws is not fun and despite his (good but misguided I presume) intentions not quite as endearing as he’d wish. Right now as I type he is fastened onto my lap and is trying to bite my thumb. I think he may want more food or that his current bout of cat “cabin fever” (having been in, out of the rain all day) has tripped his little mind.

The blinking blue outline of the local Lost Vegas Dakota Hotel now dominates the murkier edges of the South Queensferry skyline. At first glance it appears in its cold cobalt blue warmth like some dimmed out spacecraft from Close Encounters or a set piece from a failed Audi commercial. Then you realize that it is a glowing building, and one that mischievously and stubbornly refuses to show any exterior soul. Clearly a mysterious mechanical heart beats inside in some special shielded room close to its Tardis heart. Of course it won’t go away and will continue to glow like a giant alarm clock beside the village’s bed for the rest of the century.

We now have a post code for the new house – once we get there. Despite having stood for around one hundred and thirty years it has been ignored by the Royal Mail and so has avoided a specific entry in that endless enigma, the Post Code database. Ali has struck now, raised the alarm and inserted the houses’ particulars in the system. A tirade of junk mail, credit cards, catalogues and pamphlets will follow in due course but at least we will be legitimate for web based ordering and purchases and Google earth.

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