Mewsings from Lowecat (aka Indianacat)

My rants, ravings, and overall 'mewsings' on life, the universe, and everything.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Leavin' on a Jet Plane


OK, I'm showin' my age here with the song title; Peter, Paul and Mary sang this back in the 60's.
"All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go. . ."
Make that bag. One. It's three days, y'know.
But what a three days it is gonna be. Wowser!
The DH and I will be leavin' good ole Indy at 550AM; that's when the plane is supposed to leave the gate. Interestingly enough, we arrive at Chitown (Chicago) for a brief layover at -- 550AM! While flyin' to Chi is a Helluva lot quicker than drivin', it's not quite that fast. That's the first time zone we'll cross, from Eastern into Central time (and yes, I know, we can do that right here in IN. That's not the point).
We're scheduled to arrive at the infamous LAX airport at 1115 AM PST (or is that PDT?), and will be picked up and driven to our hotel. Check in time is 3pm. Mr. Sutter and his very wonderful staff have put up -- I mean PUT US UP at the Intercontinental Hotel. Very nice accomodations. I'm overwhelmed by it.
The weather forecast is sunny and 70 degrees tomorrow during the day, 49 at night. The DH and I are goin' to Michael Marisi Ornstein's showing at Perri Cartel Ink (a $25 cab ride from the hotel), that evenin', so my leather jacket will come in handy. Sure as Hell beats the 32 and SNOW (not stickin', but still!!!!) we're havin' here in Indy.
The kitties are NOT very happy with the idea of bein' left with a kitty sitter for the weekend. Our friend and neighbor is gonna come and feed them, and bring in the mail on Saturday and the paper on Sunday for us. I've had to remove my little girl from my suitcase several times. We have a sayin' around here that 'cat fur is both an accessory and a condiment!' The cats are makin' sure I'm well accessorized.
Excitement is growin' by leaps and bounds. I'll probably get tired and sleep some of the flight. I know the DH will do so. The digital camera is ready, I have tunes to listen to with my earphones, the laptop will be goin' on the plane with me (the suitcase will be checked) as I may get some writin' done.
Stay tuned to my twitter feed, as pics will get posted as well as updates. If you don't yet follow me, look for @Lowecat.
Thanks again to Mr. Sutter for pickin' little old me from all the thousands of SOA fans in the cyberverse. It's a dream come true that will be treasured for a long, long time.
And, so that I don't completely embarass myself here, in the immortal words of Wayne and Garth from Wayne's World (SNL): Lowecat, prostrates self on floor, chantin' "I'm not worthy!" three times while bowin', risin', and bowin' again.
Purrs and whisker kisses!

Monday, November 07, 2011

So The Verdict is In




So the verdict is finally in.


Guilty.


I'm reminded of Gerry Trudeau's Doonesbury character, Mark the DJ, standing in the middle of Washington DC proclaiming someone was 'Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!' I think it was Nixon and Watergate. I'll have to look it up.


But I digress.


It was the only logical verdict that could come out of the trial. Honestly, did anyone really think that the defense attempts to blame the victim would really work?


MJ was a native Hoosier. He was talented, and he was tortured. Everyone heard/read of the stories of what his home life both in Indiana and California was like. He never had a childhood, due to performing. He is another one of those child stars who had people surrounding him who couldn't/wouldn't say no to him later in life.


In a land where one is innocent until proven guilty, his foibles and mistakes were held up for all to see. The stranger the story the better. He liked to have people think he was bein' victimized by the tabloids, but some of the stories were just publicity stunts to keep his name out in the public eye.


Famous people are targets for all kinds of accusations. The first time that the possibility of child molestation came up, I wanted to believe, like the rest of the world, that the story was made up in order to get money. But as time wore on, and more information came out, it seemed more plausible than improbable.


When the second allegation came out, it was pretty much a done deal in my mind. Fool me once, shame on you, there wasn't a fool me twice. The evidence was there, the 'victim' just wasn't acceptable to get a conviction.


The price of fame is that a person loses his/her right to privacy. Photographers and press and the public all clamor for their right to know. Some people can handle that, some cannot. Some people have a pretty level head on their shoulders and can continue to exist in the limelight, and carry on being gracious to fans and reporters alike.


Others find it more and more difficult to live in the global fishbowl, pushed and pulled in several different directions. They look for ways to escape the loneliness - of wondering whether a person is truly a friend or if the person is 'suckin' up because of one's notoriety - by indulging in drugs, alcohol, partyin'. Some go to even worse extremes. Though they have money, they steal for the high that the thrill gives them.


That's sad enough. We see it time and time again. We saw it happenin' to MJ, though a lot of us chose not to see it, to allow our minds to process it.


Whether we are celebrities, or just plain folks, we look to the medical profession to take care of us. To ease our pain. We rely on their knowledge and expertise to make us better.


The motto that all doctors should and usually do abide by is 'First do no harm'.


As this entire sad saga of MJ shows, plenty of harm was done to him by the medical profession. By the plastic surgeons who continued to do what he wanted, to make him less like his infamous father and more like the person MJ wanted to be, to Dr. Murray who misguided tried to treat him outside an hospital setting with a medicine never intended to be used for the purposes he used it.


Dr. Murray, by his own actions the day of MJ's death, was negligent. He was more concerned, according to the testimony, about appearances than in saving the life of the patient. That in itself, IMO, is a act that caused harm. If he could not do anything to save the patient's life, such as CPR, his first and only action should've been to call 911.


The verdict against Dr. Murray should be a wake up call to all of us. No matter how much money or power a person has, someone, somewhere, ought to have enough backbone to stand up and scream "WAIT!" Someone in the medical professional, when approached by a megapower to do something they know damn good and well has the potential to do harm should refuse the request. Maybe if the megapower gets enough refusals, he or she will realize they are going down the wrong path.


Yeah, right. And then again, maybe pigs will fly.


So now that there is a guilty verdict in the case, maybe MJ's children can finally have peace of mind. Maybe the family can know some satisfaction that this time, MJ wasn't at fault for what happened to him.


And maybe, just maybe, we'll all remember that the rich and famous don't owe us a bloody damn thing for being rich and famous. If we see 'em in a restaurant, we're not entitled to interrupt them to get a pic and an autograph. If they're out in public and it's not a publicity event, we're not entitled to stop 'em on the street demanding attention. We're not entitled to a piece of them just because they're available.


And if they are with their family, then the family should be treated as sacred ground. Leave them in peace. Adore them from afar.


This whole thing has been a waste. A talent has been wasted, a life has been wasted, and the ripple effect will continue for time to come.


End of line.


Sunday, November 06, 2011

Counting down to Winning with Kurt Sutter



It's hard to believe, but the week has finally arrived! On Friday at oh dark thirty (actually, 550AM), our plane will leave Indianapolis for California and our winning weekend.


If you've forgotten why and/or how all this happened, I will refer you to the following:





It takes time to put something like this together. Mr. Sutter's assistant has been very patient and helpful with the process, especially when the whankers at AT&T pulled a stunt on me and shut down my email account after my AOHell account got hacked!


We have our airline etickets, our hotel confirmation, and the ride to/from the infamous LAX. I wonder how many rat photographers I'll see around? LOL.


Waiting for this week has been like waiting for Christmas. I feel all the excitement of a little kid tryin' to sleep on the big night.


And yes, I'm a little nervous. After all, this is the man who is this generation's 'great bird of the galaxy'. Were it not for Mr. Sutter, there would be no Sons of Anarchy for me to obsess over in the first place.


So stay tuned, ladies and gents. It's gonna be fun.