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Acrocats are on the Move

8/8/2021

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​NOTE: This post is cross-listed with one on my other blog, Not Enough Concerts.
 
In the spirit of living my best solo life, I decided to take a two-day trip to Baltimore since I have the time “off” during the summer.  Friday was spent walking the city, enjoying its crab cakes, and being dazzled by the unconventional artwork at the American Visionary Art Museum.  But the real reason for the trip was meeting fellow CoSPer Heather for the Acrocats show, that event where cats do cool tricks like jumping through hoops, walking on balance beams, and even playing instruments!
 
After hopping the #56 bus to Highlandtown (which seems like the cultural hub of Baltimore), enjoying an Italian sub at DiPasquale’s, I walked over to High Grounds Coffee Roasters, where I did another thing I intended: distributed a few flyers for my coaching business.  I had a nice conversation with an older gentleman named Wiley, who asked if I helped with things like ancient writing.  I gave him my pitch wherein I tell people I coach the individual writer and what that writer needs, and he revealed he was a student of ancient writing.  Very cool.
 
After reading my newest literary acquisition, Trevor Noah’s Born a Crime, and writing in my journal for a bit, I met up with Heather and her friend Missy at the venue, where we look at the cool merch.  I acquired an Acrocats bumper sticker for my amplifier, as well as some treats that can help with my cat/son Chester’s hairballs.  Missy and I did what all cat owners do when they meet each other in this digital age: show off our cat pics.  She also referred to the event as a “catcert,” which I found delightful. 
 
The cat puns continued as the event’s emcee started with an “ameowncement” greeting “Baltimeow.”  The soundtrack consisted of cat-related songs like The Cure’s “The Love Cats,” Tom Jones’s “What’s New Pussycat?” and Ted Nugent’s “Cat Scratch Fever.”  I would have also loved “Eye of the Tiger” and “China Cat Sunflower,” but I guess you can’t have everything.
 
When mice were brought out, my first thought was, “They’d better not have the cats chase them around!”  And they didn’t; they just walked the balance beams.  We were also treated to some antics from a rooster named Cluck Norris. 
 
The emcee gave some explanation on how the trainers get the cats to do their bidding via the use of clickers.  That, and a lot of patience.  In fact,  her line “nothing teaches you humility like trying to train a cat in front of a live audience” stuck with me.
 
Tricks that stuck out included the following (I was writing too quickly to remember most of the names):
           
  • A cat jumping through a ring of tissue paper
  • Two cats (named Ruben and Clyde) driving a toy car
  • Cats jumping through hoops on stools
  • A cat walking around in circles on a high wire)
 
My favorite was when a white cat named Tuna walked into the audience and eventually headbutted me.  Of course, I kept saying “Hellwoooo Chester” under my breath because, again, I associate all cute things with little Chester.  Plus I just like to act weird.
 
The highlight, of course, was the Rock Cats, their band.   “Tuna, more cowbell!” was a common request from the trainers.  I’m pretty sure I heard “Bad Romance” on sax from Oz, and “Careless Whisker” appeared as well.  Bowie rocked out on drums, Nue took us to the 1980s with the synthesizer, Sookie played those chimes like a champ, Buggles emerged from her high perch to play some trumpet.
 
One line of note.  The emcee revealed that she fosters most of these cats.  She said, “I won’t say how many cats I have but I am single and probably always will be.”  I felt some subdued, awkward laughter from a few members, but mostly silence.  I’m not sure how I feel about that self-deprecating humor, which really plays into the stereotype, but then again, I do try to subvert it though my “crazy single cat male” persona, so there you go.
 
At any rate, it was a fun time, and thanks to Heather’s astute observational skills, I found a place to put more flyers for my business.  Of course, I was missing Chester, and was ecstatic to come home and do my thing where I pick him and give him endless kisses.  And, of course, some Netflix and chill.
 
 
 
 
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    My name is Craig.  I'm an educator, writer, and unapologetic singleton.  When not reading, writing, or teaching, I enjoy hiking, running, watching movies, going to concerts, spending time with friends, and playing with my cat/son, Chester.

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