Prowl

I had it all worked out.

He was sitting at the table, but wouldn't see me as I slipped out the front door.

I called out the cat's name as an excuse. He would think the sound of the door opening just was me letting it in. The lights in my room were turned out, like I was already asleep. I'm never disturbed. By the time I came back they'd have all done the same.

The timing would be perfect.

No one would ever know.


...


Lorenzo was already waiting when I got outside. Crouched in the shadows. Punk.


He didn't ask where we were going. Just liked to prowl.

I wouldn't have had an answer anyway. Just needed to get out.


...


We ended up at the park.

It closed at dusk, by now past midnight.


Had to be careful walking down the path, leaves crunching loudly underfoot.

The sound was loud clapping, best not to alert the houses overlooking from on top the hill.


...

Found a staircase in the shadow of the street lamps, a place to sit.

Just needed to clear my head, get some perspective.


...

Lorenzo went into the brush.


...

I haven't been a teenager in a decade, but I still like the feeling of sneaking out.

Lorenzo's not a punk, he's a cat.

...well, actually he is a punk, but he's also a cat.


...

The father-figure is actually a father, but only recently so.


...

I've spent the last two months sharing a house in El Cerrito, California, on the suburban outskirts of San Francisco's East Bay area, with Adam, Margaret, Frankie, and ... well, Lorenzo.

Adam I've worked with on various projects back in New Zealand, though not always directly. Margaret of course I met through him. Frankie I met fairly recently, as she too is fairly recent – just six months old.


...

How does that work, a bachelor living with a young family - and especially a six month old baby? Actually its kind of cool. Yes there's crying and yes that gets old, but then its not really my problem to deal with and can just as easily chuck on headphones. And I did have a six week old baby on the boat for three days this past New Years after all.

On the flip side, I think she's days (at most one week) from starting to crawl. She's got most of it worked out, and can push herself backwards, but hasn't quite got the mechanics worked out right. First steps and first words may be the joy of new parents, but crawling is the first moment of independent movement. Only recently she learned to how to hold herself sitting upright. Soon she'll be able to explore the world under her own control. For the first time she'll be able to choose her own directions.

Its an interesting peak into a life experience which I have little intention of encountering myself for a long time to come (I rather enjoy choosing my own directions too, thank you very much).

I will say this, when I walk into the room, she's always all smiles and long stares. If I could only master that same skill with the slightly older variety I'd be set.


...

Lorzenzo I met the night I moved in.


....

The plan kind of came together all at once.

I passed through the States at the end of Spring, coinciding with changes happening at work. Interest was shifting focus to the US, and there were some potential opportunities in San Francisco.

The timing was great, with winter approaching New Zealand, and the location ideal. San Francisco had long been for me (as many before me), the “destination” for any “true” cross-country road trip. I can tell a story from every visit I've made there, and I'm not the only one.

I didn't need convincing.


...

Gonna leave the pain behind
Gonna leave the fools in line
Gonna take the magic potion
Gettin' in an old black car
Gonna take a ride so far
To the land of sun tan lotion
Gonna take it state by state
Til I hit the golden gate
Get my feet wet in the ocean

-- Neil Young, "Big Time"


...

Adam and Co. were on their way back to Toronto. They had delayed their trip until the timing was right with Frankie, and spending the time chasing down old friends and drumming up new projects made sense for him too.

Fortunately for me I could rely on such far more organized individuals to find and arrange the accommodation, and fortunately for us all they did a great job. The house belongs to a “Professor of Rhetoric” at the University and has the “light reading” lining shelves throughout to prove it. She teaches her native French, and the kitchen is likewise lined with her cookbooks. That's where they are now, visiting her family with their son. They needed to return in time for classes to start, and in the same timeframe “the Adam's family” needed to finish their journey home, so timing was ideal.


After all, they too have a cat in waiting.


Which brings me to Lorzeno.


...

I arrived a few days early.

I wanted to catch my cousin at her Olympic trial in Eugene, Oregon on the Fourth of July.

I was able to meet the owners and get the full tour, pair of stapled, single-spaced typewriter-font-printed sheets of instructions on the house, and the keys to the city before hoping in a rental car and cruising North the next morning.


...

He slinked in when the sun came down, after I had eaten and cleaned up and settled into staring at a screen.

I fed him once and we were fast friends.


...

Its not the first time I've lived with a cat, though it remains a novel experience.

I never spent time with cats when I was growing up – I'm allergic. Back then highly so; I remember staggering circles around my house in second grade, sneezing repeatedly after spending an afternoon with my neighbours' Siamese.


...

But there was a cat at “the Flat” back West in Auckland, later two kittens, and neither was a big deal. The kittens were actually quite cool, though not mine.

I had grown up around dogs. I knew lots of dogs. I got to know their personalities.

Spending time with cats is like being seven years old again.


...

Its been a pleasure living this lifestyle these past couple months.

However, Monday marks our last day, this coming our last weekend.


...

I've met some of Adam's friends, he's met some of mine.

Its amazing how many more people happen to be passing through San Francisco, compared to Auckland. I caught up with Jono and Anna, who's company and hospitality I'd last seen and enjoyed in London, and was happy to have a chance to return. Besides, playing tour guide gives me an excuse to see all the fun places in the city through their eyes.

It was actually a bit of a chance encounter. In what can be only considered the second most useful service Facebook has ever provided (the first being the creation of a fan club for “Wawa” - the most under-appreciated institution on the Eastern seaboard), I caught Anna's mention of their upcoming visit

Two nights later we're all cracking up at the Sea Lions on Fisherman's Wharf.


...

The neighbourhood is decent. We're at the top of an unforgiving hill, but its a nice view in exchange.

A bicycle bought on the cheap made short work of the daily climb, and brought Berkeley within easy reach. A little rusty and a little out of tune, it was absolutely perfect. Back home we would have called it a “shore bike,” the kind left at someone's beach house over the winter, strictly for summer riding. A little sand in the gears was part of the charm.

That didn't make it any nicer when it got stolen, but at least it was a (relatively) inexpensive “wake up call,” reminding me I'm not in New Zealand any longer. It was locked and in a well lit location, but the lock worth even less than the bicycle, and that made all the difference. So it goes.


...

There have been a series of trips, each following business.

A trip to Philadelphia was extended into the weekend and realized a kayak trip long planned with Colin, and of course a visit with Katie, the kids, and the rest of his family.

My old college buddy had his folks' place in Bethany Beach, Delaware. There's a series of canals which run behind the development, eventually opening out into one of area's many bays, complete with a handful of old kayaks which get shared between the various neighbours. We used to doodle around back there over the years, never for more than an hour or so, just something to pass the time. Invariably at some point someone would mention how, if one rowed long enough, one could eventually reach the open ocean - always thrown out casually, just a "what if" or "wouldn't that be cool" kind of comment.

It only took six hours round trip (about 16 miles), the hardest bit fighting against the current where the inlet meets the sea, but was a brilliant day and a great way to spend some time, which always seems in such short supply these days.

The next day we visited Assateague Island (just over the border in Maryland, a national park known for the wild horses that live there and roam about freely). I hadn't been there in years and was for the little ones their first time, so also a really nice day.


...

Last week I was in Los Angeles, chasing the tail of the SIGGRAPH conference. All of the latest graphics technology and techniques are put on display, from graduate and PhD work to movie houses to multinational corporations and all points in between.


Some highlights:













...

Two nights ago I was when I "snuck out."

I really did call out Lorenzo's name as I slipped through the door.

He really did appear, as though he'd been waiting.

And he really did follow me through the park, which was a surprise. I didn't think cats went for walks. He explored while I took a break from code and made the time to look back and appreciate the moment.


But we've got this connection, see? We're both “outdoor cats.”

I have learned that much, some cats live in the house and some only show up for meals.


...

It helps we both keep the same, fluid, tending-towards-late hours.

It helps that when he wants to escape I'm the one around to let him out.

But I think it helps most I can see the space he needs to keep about himself, to understand, and to share that reflex.


...

I frequently wind up at the end of the night with the phone near enough the pillow to reach. Its a habit left over from my Support days, but also my alarm clock and at some point I'm going to need to turn the damn thing off.

That does mean however I have a camera at hand each morning when I find he's crashed out against my legs.

Seven years old again.


...

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present the very thing the internet was invented for, displaying pictures of cats:





...

Sunday is our last night.

I have the loosest of plans and no return ticket.


Tomorrow Radiohead and Beck are playing in the park.

A visit to my cousin in San Diego has been threatened (in both directions - “You know I'm going to have to.” “You better!”)

The “experience” of a hostel in the Mission or the Tenderloin is tempting.

A trip home is in the works, and a shot at the Century loop on what will be my tenth MS 150.

A new place is lined up in a couple week's time, but until then that chaos is freedom.


Definitely an outdoor cat.