Two Cat Night

Back in the early 1970s there was a rock group called, Three Dog Night (and I, young and clueless as I was, had the hots for Chuck Negron, the lead singer.) The rock-n-roll mythology is that they took their name from a phrase used by shepherds used to describe the coldest nights they spent in the pastures. O.K., so back in the 70s they had a strange way of picking band names. I guess that hasn't changed much.

Anyway, back to the 'three dog night' thing. So, the coldest night was a 'three dog night' when they would need to have three dogs huddled around for warmth.

So, why am I writing this?

Because my mind is twisted and I'm sitting between my two cats as I write this. so, it's not that cold. Only two cats worth of cold. Yes, I know, lame.

While I'm spinning off into the 1970s, I might as well tell you my nightmare teeny bopper story. It will be good for a laugh if nothing else.

At the time of this particularly earth shattering event, I'm in junior high school and there is a theatre in the next town, (Port Chester, New York) called the Capitol Theatre. The Capitol theatre was an old movie theatre built in the golden age of Hollywood (the 1930s).

By the time the 1970s rolled around the building was in disrepair, and it's once lovely interior (decorated in gold-leaf and cherubs) is now painted a bright day-glo pink. Some of the original stage seats are there and the rest have been replaced by wooden bleachers (not to comfortable, but my back was much more forgiving then.)

Somehow, my friend (Joan Brabender-if you are out there reading this, forgive me) and I end up getting tickets to the performance. I'm searching my memory, but somehow I can't seem to remember how we did that, but I know it was a sneaky thing because our parents just wouldn't have let us go to one of those 'hippy places.'

So, there we were, two little teeny boppers sitting in orchestra seats, and we were in heaven and feeling very cool.

In my memory (which I never trust because it's so faulty) we are sitting in our seats enjoying ourselves when, low and behold, there comes Mrs. Brabender down the aisle of the theatre in her bathrobe and curlers looking absolutely middle-class, uncool, and fiercer than a rabid dog.

She was apparently not pleased that we were in attendance at this event.

I remember being promptly ejected from my seat and ushered out of the building embarrassed, distressed and definately NOT feeling cool. As for what happened next I also have no memory, but it couldn't have been that bad because here I am, living to write about it.

I haven't been posting for a few days so I though I should get back at it.

In the last few days I haven't accomplished much. I can't tell you why. But, I have made about fifteen little clay models for pendants that will (hopefully) eventually be cast in bronze.

We've got what the school is calling a 'mini' break. Yes, I'd say it's mini (four days worth, counting the week end.)

We go back to classes on Wednesday.

Here are the little clay positives I made for casting (eventually) in bronze.



I tried to upload these the other night and they wouldn't work. I dunno . . . .