I allowed — unwisely, I might add — J. to accompany me on a recent trip to Cook’s produce stand on East 10th Street.
“Guess what, Rocky,” J. blabbed maniacally, “I’m starting a blob!”
“A what?” I asked peevishly as I poked a peach.
“A blob! You know, an online blob! On the Internet!” he continued, wiping spittle from his lower lip.
“You mean a blog, dear fellow, blog — blog blog BLOG!” I cried. “What is your blog going to address? What burning issue — something political? Or maybe your day-to-day ‘big thoughts,’ as you call them?”
“It’s going to be about a cat. Kind of like Garfield. Each day it’ll tell a new story from his life, like a diary, sort of. Like, you know, a diary of a cat!” he said.
“You don’t say!” I said, rolling my eyes.
“And he’ll do like, you know, cat stuff, but he’ll talk like a person, too. And I’ll give him a smart name, like Beauregard maybe. Beauregard the cat. Before long, he’ll be a household name and I’ll be rich!” he frothed.
I selected a bunch of bananas and gave them to Cook.
“Tell me more about this blog, dear fellow,” I said. “I find all this fascinating!”
“And he’ll have a girlfriend cat named Priscilla and drive a car. He’ll be kind of plump and wear snazzy jogging outfits. I’m just sure he’ll be a hit!” he exclaimed.
“Name of the blog?” I asked.
“Diary of a Cat!” he fairly shouted.
“Dear fellow,” I said, looking him up and down, “you’re so original that I can barely stand it.”