sumo

They weren’t dog people. They weren’t cat, gerbil or goldfish people either. They were simply parents raising two kids.

They lived in a world where dogs are a source of companionship rather than protein. Where conventional wisdom holds that dogs teach empathy to children.

You may already know where this story is going.

The parents bought a year of delay by buying a book with a breed of dogs featured on each spread. Every evening the man and his daughter played a game; he would cover the text and she would memorize the provenance and personality of each breed.
Once she had her breeds down cold, she called in her chits.

She and her mother phoned from the SPCA to describe the prettiest, smartest dog in the world. He’s got a smushed-in nose, she gushed. “I will walk him everyday.”

The family decided they’d pick up the Japanese Chin first thing the next morning.

But it turned out the most wonderful dog in the world was nowhere to be found. Maybe he’d been adopted, the staff said, or maybe even, ugh… you know. The mother stayed while the staff searched databases. The man took the kids to a hot-dog place, preparing them for all possibilities.

When they came back their mother offered some hope that he’d been sent to another shelter. The kids worried that every second counted – knowing they had to get there before Cruella Di Ville.

“Might be the little guy in aisle F,” the manager said about the dog that fit the profile exactly, But it wasn’t him.

All hope was lost until, far down the aisle, through her tears, the girl saw him looking out at her. And he seemed even more perfect than the day before. She was sure he remembered her.

When the clerk opened the cage he spun around and, to sanctify the moment, defecated on the floor. That’s when they knew he was the dog for them.

Snorting and licking, tail wagging 90-mph on the expressway home, the animal took command of the sedan and family in it. He ran back and forth upon entering his new home. The backs of sofas were to his liking. He claimed corners in the sun.

They gave him the name “Sumo” and spoiled him shamelessly.

Sumo could learn tricks but he felt performing was beneath his dignity – “I’m not a pug, you know” – at the same time he would sell his soul for table scraps.

He was everybody’s pet and was almost never left alone The family walked him 3 times a day, taking turns. He and the boy became especially close when his older sister became a teenager.

A decade passed. The family had never said goodbye to a pet before, and maybe because they weren’t dog people they weren’t prepared for the intensity of their loss.

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D.J. with fascist sign

People at a coffee shopDictators can intimidate the courts, institutions of learning and the free press into compliance. But coffee shops have a mind of their own.

April 5, 2025 – The idea of freeing ourselves from King George III grew out of colonial coffee houses scattered across the colonies.

Pamphlets and newspapers were read through clouds of tobacco smoke. Ideas about government were tested.

Those early Americans used the term “tyranny” to express their fear of autocratic authority. A healthy vigilance continues to this day. Every president since Washington has been accused of unconstitutional villiany.

We’ve turned to the word “fascism” instead of tyranny in modern times because the industrialized genocide committed by Nazi Fascists is seared into our consciousness.

What makes our current president more dangerous than any in the past is his attempt to overthrow the 2020 election and remain, patently unelected, in office.

He is systematically destroying documents and rewriting our history about that crime and the riot that followed. He’s imposing a nazi-style retribution against officials who followed their sworn duty to hold him responsible.

The Yankee tradition of frequenting coffee shops and debating our liberties dates back to our founding. It would take more than an executive order to shut them down. Let’s hope we never go there.

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Allergic to people

People at a coffee shopAllergic to people.

Over time he’s learned to present himself as warm and approachable, gregarious in fact. And he is so convincing that people line to be his friends.

That complicates things for a person who reacts to social activities like some people react to gluten and chemicals in cleaning agents.

Before the epiphany, he was trapped in a feedback loop of his own making. He’d invent flaws in friends as an excuse to keep his distance. When they stopped inviting him to do things, he was free to write them off.

There’s no way to eliminate his need for time alone but through a series of false starts, he’s taught himself to live comfortably.

He’s close with his family and friends on a one-on-one basis. He stays on the outer edges of social circles in a way that won’t be noticed. He avoids appearing aloof.

Books and the outdoors offer refuge; he can find his way around a kitchen. He avoids entertainment that jams his receptors, especially if a laugh track is involved.

Some years ago he experienced his epiphany.

A friend he admired described himself as “inwardly directed” and somehow that prompted the man to search for keywords like self-sufficient, self-possessed, independent, resilient, innovative.

A book about the power of introverts helped him see that he’s not an oddity, that there are millions of others like him; and that they’ve been given a gift in disguise.

Our closet introvert seldom talks openly about his allergy to people because no one here at the coffee shop would believe him if he did.

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Girl with artwork

People at a coffee shopThere are precious few places where the walls can talk. This happens to be one of them.

The walls of our cave speak volumes about the people who put their drawings, paintings, photos and whatnots on display.

The process is simple. You ask the barista to add your name to the schedule and some time later you own the walls for a month.

Nobody asks what kind of stuff you plan to show. There’s no judging or no curating. No prizes. Each month is an adventure.

It’s a joy to see unrecognized artists given a chance to share their creations.

Some of the works come out of tutored workshops but much is created in garages, basements and on dining room tables. It ranges from ‘naive’ to ‘indigenous’ to ’street art.” Some of the works have important things to say. Occasionally one of them will take your breath away.

The prices applied to the art will scarcely cover the cost of materials (works in cadmiums and ceruleans deserve a healthy surcharge)…but then a dollar value is a barbaric way to judge an artist’s output.

One day around noon Ruby could be seen walking toward the coffee shop from blocks away. She was carrying what turned out to be a work of assemblage art in progress.

She briefly stepped into the coffee shop to show it to the members of the clan. And as it has happened in caves through the millennia, we gathered around and eww-ed and ahh-ed.

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The Sneeze

People at a coffee shopIt’s amazing how many friendships at our coffee shop start with an orgasm.It’s not that the people working in the windows are unfriendly. It’s just that they’re busy.

Some are working remotely on an employer’s clock, some on projects with impossible due dates. The PhDs are frantic.

You can spend weeks without sharing the first word with a stranger next to you. Then the unexpected happens, the unspoken code of silence is broken by a sudden sneeze.

That convulsion is greeted with a ‘bless you’ or another expression of ‘good health.’ Once those words are uttered you and the stranger are on limited speaking terms.

Weeks pass. You may ask to plug in your power adapter or briefly, very briefly, compare laptop devices. But after time the question will inevitably be breached: “What are you working on?”

Now you’re discussing careers, childhood foibles, allergies to synthetics fabrics. You’re sharing photos of pets.

There are myths aplenty about sneezing: It’s as close as you can get to death. Cupid’s sneezes shape the course of love. Someone is gossiping about you. It’s an orgasm, or is it?

Unlike the sneeze, the hiccup is greeted with silent bemusement in the windows of our coffee shop. Flatulence is discouraged.

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