
You will be happy to know (won’t you?) that I don’t have limes’ disease or a secret form of mononuclewhosis. These are two of the solutions to my medical-mysterious palette of symptoms we can rule out from my recent trip to the dracula. Two down, how many to go? I only go to the dracula every year or three, so the screening process may take a while. Another theory: ADD. Yes, ADD could be making my feet hurt, according to this particular dracula. Diagnoses like this is why I prefer the witch doctor.
So I was reading my blog over the weekend, catching up on what I was doing two years ago, and I realized that history is repeating itself, as usual. Can you say that again, history? I wasn’t paying attention. Two years ago, I had just sped through the latest Harry Potter and was waiting for the arts festival they throw outside my front door to be over. Ditto! Two years ago, I was reveling in my new iPhone and confronting rogue City Council Presidents.
No, wait, that was two days ago. Two days ago, I was walking Goblin Foo Uvula down the street, and we encountered Stephanie Rawlings-Blake. “I’d like your support in the September 11 primary,” she said. “I’m still thinking about it,” I said, which is true because, while some people I’m associated with said I should vote for the other guy, I have yet to do my research because I have been too busy researching limes’ disease.
Instead of persuading me on the issues, she touched my Boston terrier on the head with two fingernails and said, “What a cute, uh, pug. What’s his name?”
“Um, Goblin,” I said.
“I have a _______ [I forget which relative she mentioned… cousin, sister-in-law, etc.] who has a pug named Ash. She treats that dog just like a member of the family! Drives me crazy.”
“Hmmm,” I said. My “pug,” who has had birthday parties and an entire wardrobe of capes and fashion wings, rolled her eyes, and we beat a hasty retreat.
When we got home, I sent an email to the campaign of Michael Sarbanes, the chief opposition for the office of City Council President:
I just ran into Stephanie Rawlings-Blake while walking my dog in the vicinity of Artscape. She seemed like a rather no-nonsense person, which I appreciated, but then went on to call my Boston terrier a pug and relate the story of one of her relatives who had a pug that she treated like a member of the family. She did not seem to think this was a good idea. Given that my beloved Boston terrier was standing on her foot, this didn't strike me as very diplomatic. My question is, how does Mr. Sarbanes feel about Boston terriers, pugs, and other canines as family members and citizens of Baltimore City?
This is obviously the major issue of the day.
