A souring relationship

My assumption was that getting a puppy was going to open my eyes to the heretofore unknown pleasures of canine companionship. Dogs are awfully popular. People form emotional bonds to them. There must be something magical about having a dog in your life, or so I assumed. Sadly, what has come to pass is that all of my preconceived notions and prejudices about dogs (which I made a valiant and largely successful effort to tamp down) are being confirmed. It would seem that dogs really are dumb, needy, dirty beasts. They're ambitious. I'll give them that.

I was standing in my driveway with the puppy looking up at the night sky. I have this great app called SkyView. You point your phone up to the heavens and it identifies stars, planets and satellites, and draws the constellations for you. When I was a kid you had to imagine what all those animals and Gods looked like but thanks to technology you no longer have to develop an imagination. It's all done for you. Anyway, I was getting my celestial bearings and I heard a crunching sound. I looked down and the dog was eating pieces of asphalt. Asphalt! Apparently, $850 doesn't buy you a smart dog. If you gave an asphalt pebble to a cat expecting him to eat it, he'd look at you with the contempt you'd deserve.

I'm going to assume that having a puppy is not that far removed from having children. Taking care of a baby is negative fun but the satisfaction of having children increases exponentially as they grow older until they reach their teen years, when it once again dissolves back into negative fun. I'm going to soldier on in the hopes that once this puppy becomes a dog, it won't be so irritating to have around.

* * *

One-man shows are dicey affairs. You might end up watching somebody die on stage all alone. Last season I saw Hugh Jackman's one man show and it was a pretty entertaining, despite the fact that it was a musical, which I normally shun. I've seen a few of John Leguizamo's shows and they're always satisfying. He works hard. Tomorrow night I'm seeing The Agony and Ecstasy of Steve Jobs, Mike Daisey's monologue about the slave conditions under which Apple products are made in China.

This mess is about to open on Broadway:

William Shatner, standing center stage alone. Can this POSSIBLY be any good? Shatner has the ability to laugh at himself and has a campy appeal, but do I really want to pay Broadway prices (albeit at a discount—I never pay retail) to sit through film clips from T.J. Hooker and chart the evolution of his toupee? And what if he sings Rocket Man or Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds? How would you survive something like that without permanent brain damage?