O P I N I O N
NOT THAT PROFOUND
By Nathan Graziano
The Gray-Haired Man is busy. His specious excuse for not writing his own column this week is that he is busy grading essays, but it is more likely that he is busy drinking beers and watching baseball at Chelbys.
Therefore, I generously, benevolently agreed to scribble some of my own thoughts this week. I mean, truthfully, the Gray-Haired Man keeps the bar relatively low, so it doesn’t unduly detract from the 18 hours of beauty sleep that I require each day.
So give me some cheese, cheddar or American, and I’ll write your column, you lush.
This week, I would like to introduce readers to my good friend, the inimitable Sweet Lou.
Sweet Lou arrived in my stocking last Christmas, and while I generally disagree with nonsecular celebrations, I must commend the Gray-Haired Man and the Blonde Woman for this particular purchase.
Immediately, as if it was our destiny—if I were to believe in such a logically flimsy concept—Sweet Lou and I became inseparable, bosom buddies, or as the kids these days say, BFF’s.
While not intending to offend Sweet Lou, I have to admit that I am still not exactly sure what type of animal he was designed to replicate, perhaps some kind of bipedal duck or chicken or some other exotic bird.
However, my friendships are formed according to the content of one’s character, not superficial appearances, and Sweet Lou, who releases a shrill squeak of joy each time his belly is compressed, has more character in his orange bill than any of the cats have in their entire bodies.
The truth of the matter is that it’s good to have companionship as we toil through the monotony and daily drudgery on the way to dusty death. And while Sweet Lou does not speak—he only squeaks—his presence beside me as I sleep on the couch for 18 hours is not only welcomed, but desired.
In fact, I’m starting to find isolation somewhat disagreeable.
I will, however, concede that my deepest thoughts, my most profound queries, typically occur while I am utterly alone, dreaming of cheese, and a large part of life my life has been learning to navigate loneliness and boredom.
And, yes, I understand—as the Gray-Haired Man’s tattoo reads—that “one must imagine Sisyphus happy.”
But this doesn’t mean that we should always shun the company of friends solely in favor of our solitary and selfish pursuits. For this lesson, I thank Sweet Lou. If only he could enjoy cheese with me.
I will end my column with a short anecdote that I hope will illustrate Sweet Lou’s importance.
A few weeks ago, Sweet Lou went away without a squeak. I tried playing with some other companions, such as Greenie the Christmas Cat, Pink Piggy and Scuz Bunny, but I missed my Sweet Lou something fierce. He was gone, and I was despondent, sleeping 20 hours a day.
Then, last week, the Gray-Haired Man came inside from some activity in the backyard that seemed to involve a skunk, and guess who was with him?
Oh, readers, it was a reunion for the ages! How passionately I barked and fervently Sweet Lou squeaked!
You can’t convince me that anything in this world can replicate the presence of a best friend.
So, Sweet Lou, I toast some cheese to you and everything that you do to make me smile1.
- The cynics amongst us might point out the fact that I can’t, technically, smile; however, I’d like to point out that your life is then devoid of joy. ↩︎