Chuck is Outsmarted by Bird at Mt. Kenya Safari Club

View of the lovely grounds of the Mt. Kenya Safari Club

When we first mentioned to friends that we were bound for a safari in Africa, our “friends” rolled their eyes, warned us to beware of kidnappings in Nairobi, and admonished us to expect a rough and tumble experience in this “third world country”. 

We knew as we traveled around Kenya in search of the "Big Five", that there would be limited electricity, accommodations in camps rather than 5 star hotels, and travel along pitted dirt roads rather than the paved roads we were used to here in the states. 

Our friends were not misinformed. 

Sometimes at night we needed to use flashlights to signal that we needed the professional to lead us to the main area from our tent because to walk alone was too dangerous.  

The rivers were filled with hippos.  The plains were filled with lions and hyenas. On the trails we often stumbled upon a water buffalo or a leopard hidden in a tree with a kill, who could jump down on top of you if he thought for a second you were interested in his dinner. 

Safari, in modern times, means you’re armed with a camera, not a gun.  In Kenya, hunting big game animals is forbidden by law.  Thank God.  

But being on safari is breathtaking! We heard the roar of a lion as the pack moved past our safari vehicle.  I stood less than twenty feet away at dusk as a family of giraffes munched on the leaves of a nearby tree. As we sat and ate our picnic lunch one afternoon, a monkey came from out of nowhere and stole my apple which was perched on the log beside me.

We were in the wild.

The single exception was the Mt. Kenya Safari Club, the 100 acre ranch, founded by actor William Holden in 1959 at the foot of Mt. Kenya.  Mr. Holden, known as the too good-looking actor, won an Academy award for Best Actor for his role in Stalag 17. He also starred in a slew of other films including Sunset Boulevard and Picnic and was the biggest box office draw of the 1950‘s in Hollywood. But besides being a Hollywood film star, he became a conservationist and animal activist long before it was trendy to do so.

The front entrance

The Safari Club became the destination for the Hollywood jet set.  In the very atypical lobby--here in Kenya, so much of the Safari Club is outdoors--there are photos lining the walls with all the "A" list actors who came to Kenya and stayed at the club.

Just a sampling of some of the photos of the rich and famous who came to the Safari Club

Today it is a popular resort for visitors who come to Kenya and who are interested in going on safari, horseback riding, or mountain climbing, but who also want some pampering along the way.  

That’s what appealed to us--the pampering.  The grounds are exquisite with a lovely view of Mt. Kenya, of course.  There is a in-ground swimming pool, gourmet restaurant, flat-screen TV, full-service bar--all the modern amenities that are at times difficult to procur in so exotic a location.

Lovely view of Mt. Kenya in the distance

The exquisite lobby of the Club

Our room was luxurious and over-sized. 

Our room on the premises

Upon arriving, we unpacked and went on a tour of the place, heading eventually toward the main part of the Club, looking for a short cut from our room, following the paths that led past the pool.  How fortunate.  I am a pool person from way back.  Chuck is not.  In fact, he hates water in large quantities.  He scurried past, very quickly, not anticipating that the area around the pool was very wet and slippery. 

But he was nowhere near the edge for that fact to have any impact.  It was only if he moved closer to the edge.  And why would he? What would entice a cat closer to the edge of a pool?

The infamous pool where Chuck scampered over the edge

It happened so quickly I had no time to react. A bird flew by, swooping down over Chuck’s head, literally enticing him to follow, to follow, right into the water.  The bird flew over the water, but Chuck’s eyes weren't on the water. He made a mad dash for the bird and went right over the edge.

I’d never seen anything like it!

Chuck's no light weight and half the pool water was displaced by his weight. He “doggie paddled” immediately to the side. I helped him out and he did his shake thing, but he was still dripping wet. 

We returned to the room and regrouped. 

My analysis: Chuck was no smarter than a typical Kenyan bird. The poor kid never liked birds anyway.

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Chuck Boycotts Shopping On Labor Day

Labor Day Parade in Union Square, N.Y. in 1882

This year we are home for Labor Day, and the irony of how we celebrate Labor Day in the United States is not lost on Chuck. 

Most Americans know Labor Day as a day of relaxation.  We envision a barbecue in the backyard or a ballgame on the television set.  Or, perhaps, we drag the kids to a parade if we’re lucky enough to live close to a main street in a small town that still believes in tradition.

For me, it was worth mentioning to Chuck, the rascal cat, that Labor Day in the United States is a holiday that dates back to 1887 although how it became a holiday is in dispute.  Some say it was first proposed in 1882 by Matthew Maguire, a machinist who was serving as Secretary for the Central Labor Union of New York.  Others say it was proposed by Peter J. McGuire of the American Federation of Laborers in May 1882 after he’d seen the labour festival in Toronto, Canada.  

However, it happened, Oregon was the first state to make Labor Day a holiday in 1887, but Labor Day didn’t become a federal holiday until 1894, after the deaths of several workers at the hands of US Military and US Marshalls during the Pullman Strike. Within days after the deaths, Congress rushed and passed the bill to make Labor Day a federal holiday.

How to celebrate Labor Day was even outlined:

1-  A street parade was suggested so that the “strength and spirit de corps of  the trade and labor organization could be displayed to the public

2- A festival for the workers and their families would follow

3- Speeches were added later

4- Much later a resolution by the AFL was added in 1909 declaring that the Sunday preceding Labor Day--called “Labor Sunday” was to be dedicated to the spiritual and educational aspects of the Selector movement.  

How much has changed! Today Labor Day has become a day to shop.  In fact, retailers claim it’s the largest sales date of the year, second only to Christmas Eve.  

And this is where the irony comes in -- a day that was originally dedicated to the workers of America has become a day where even more people have to work.  Let me explain.  Most Americans work in the retail industry -- 24% of all jobs in this country are in the retail market.  On Labor Day, not only will more workers work, but they will have to work longer hours to keep up with the demand of people who come out to shop.  And, of course, only 3% are part of a labor union.  

So Chuck has decided to take a stand.  

NO SHOPPING ON LABOR DAY!!!  

On Labor Day, Chuck, instead, will:

Go to a barbecue and be with his family.

Watch an old black and white movie on television.

Go to the park and watch the birds.

Hang out with his sister Ella and eat snacks.  

He will honor the American worker and spend the day the way it was originally intended!  

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Chuck is Spooked at Historic Bethlehem Hotel

So, yeah, we may as well admit it - Chuck, the rascal cat, is and always has been a big baby when it comes to haunted houses and rumors that houses may be haunted.  And that may have been the problem in retrospect.

Historic Bethlehem Hotel from across the street

Bob and I had a lovely weekend planned.  We were going to Bethlehem, PA and staying at the Historic Bethlehem Hotel, a beautiful historic hotel -- just the two of us -- when Chuck chimed in and said he wanted to go, too.

I had no problem with that.  Chuck is generally well-behaved and can be quite entertaining when he wants to be. This hotel, also, as it turned out was very pet friendly, and it did my heart good to see customers walking around with their dogs.

The only thing we didn't discuss--because I didn't think it would be an issue--was the fact that the hotel had the reputation for being haunted.  Now, I wasn't concerned about it because there had never been any reported incidents of foul play.  

Was the hotel haunted? Yes. But the ghosts were friendly.  So we arrived, and everything was absolutely purrfect.  For awhile. 

In the beginning I was less concerned about ghosts and more interested in the history of the hotel.  There was a Hall of History which tried to capture how the hotel had changed over the years and a local hotel historian in the lobby to answer any questions.

Just one of the many display cabinets with old photos, antique memorabilia etc.

I also noticed that tons of photos were hung in the bar area of all the famous people who'd stayed in the hotel.  

Famous musicians, politicians, actors, comedians stayed here

There were also photos of Bob Dylan and Ray Charles in the elevators--two more famous people--so I was feeling very special.

Bob Dylan - I was impressed!

Ray Charles - I was impressed!

It was true that when we first arrived, we were distracted. Not just by the history and the photos, but we'd arrived smack in the middle of Music Fest.  People were everywhere.  The main street outside the hotel was literally reduced to one lane in one direction.  We needed special directions from the concierge to get in and out of the hotel.  Thousands of people milled in the street at night.  

This was the scene outside my hotel window at 11:00 at night.

When we went down to the bar, hoping to get a drink, too many people were waiting in line, their hands clutching a gigantic over-sized souvenir mug that they could get filled for $5 as part of Music Fest.  

But nothing really happened until the next morning.  Because everyone partied so hard the night before, the next morning--early the next morning was quiet. Chuck wanted to walk around a little, and I figured what harm could it do.  He was fine and happy as we sauntered up and down the halls. 

We even snuck down to the lobby and all was peaceful.

We hopped on the elevator, and that's when I made the big mistake. I hit the button to our floor, or so I thought.  The elevator started to move.  When we stopped, I just assumed we were on the correct floor and without looking--I was more concerned about Chuck--we turned right and started walking.

Chuck took about ten steps and froze.  His ears went back as if he could hear something.  He looked forward, mesmerized as if he were watching a scene for his eyes only.  He started a soft meowing, and then he turned and bolted back to the elevator.  He jumped up and started pawing at the door.  

The poor kid looked frightened to death, and I wondered what it could be. 

I hit the elevator button, and the door opened immediately.

Chuck ran in, and I followed.  I'd wanted the eighth floor but we'd somehow landed on the ninth floor by mistake. Now it was all beginning to make sense. I'd read the literature on the hotel. I knew what they said about the ninth floor.

Had Chuck had an encounter with one of their ghosts? http://www.hotelbethlehem.com/hanuted.php

Chuck didn't say.  He only seemed very happy to get back to our floor and our room.  And when we were leaving and taking our last look at this beautiful place, Chuck didn't even turn around.  Instead he snuggled down for a nap.  

Truthfully, the kid looked worn out.  I guess it isn't everyday you go for a walk and have a close encounter with . . . well, you fill in the blanks.  

The Historic Bethlehem Hotel

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Chuck Love, Love, Loves Drum Corp

Cadets from Allentown, PA

I first thought Chuck, my rascal cat,wanted to see a Drum Corp show because my husband was such a fan.  He’s been going for years, and I figured Chuck wanted to tag along and see what all the fuss was about. But I was wrong.

Imagine a football field filled with college aged kids, mostly music majors, who’ve tried out to be part of a corp--don’t call it a marching band or they’ll be grossly offended--and who willingly sacrifice their summer at the beach and hanging with friends to travel across country (okay, that would be cool) and spend grueling days under the sometimes brutal sun practicing for sometimes ten hours at a shot, day after day so they can perfect a routine and compete against other corps.  They practice marching to a musical ensemble--which can be anything from showtunes to classical to rock to sometimes some very edgy music. The intricate marching for the top-end corps means they never stop moving for the entire twelve minute routine. 

Some of the corp play instruments; some of the corp, the color guard, showcase “modern dance steps” across the field, acting out thematic skits to complement the music. At their best the musicians play their instrument and play a role in the elaborate stage production--leaping over barriers on the field, dropping down on the ground, disappearing into tents and changing costumes for effect . . . expect anything when you’re watching Drum Corp International. 

Bob and I had tickets for the Eastern State Championship--a two night affair held yearly in Allentown, Pennslyvania, where twenty-four corps compete over two nights during the first week in August every year. We had 50 yard line seats in row 17, high enough in the football stadium seats to clearly see the lovely maneuvering on the field. 

Chuck was impressed from the first moment.  

These were his favorites:

The Cadets of Allentown yea.org/cadets because the marching they did in their program Side by Side was fantastic, and even though they came in third place out of 24, Chuck felt they deserved FIRST PLACE because he believes, as I believe, that it is all about the marching.  Not the props or the costumes, but the marching, and the Cadets march like no one else!!  And, yeah, I know it's very traditional, but Drum Corp goes back forty years!

Cadets of Allentown

The Troopers troopersdrumcorp.org from Casper, Wyoming, took Chuck's breath away. Their show Magnificent 11 paid homage to a soldier who valiantly died in 1865 and who the city of Caspar, Wyoming is named after. For this corp, it isn't the marching, but the music . . . including the theme from the Magnificent 7 and Dances with Wolves that had Chuck purring softly.

Troopers from Casper, Wyoming

Chuck also loved the Phantom Regiment regiment.org from Rockford, Illinois, for one reason only.  Their program Triumphant Journey told the story of an innocent princess who must battle dark forces within her kingdom while she makes her way home through the forbidden forest. Chuck fell in love with the prop used for the wicked queen which he thought looked like giant cat. You decide.

  

Phantom Regiment from Rockford, Illinois

Finally, Chuck loved the Jersey Surf jerseysurf.org,  the only New Jersey corp that competed! He loved the funky costumes and the music that included Play that Funky Music and Respect by Otis Redding. Chuck was psyched when he heard that this corp won the Spirit of Disney award three years in a row.  They had the audience on their feet . . . and their paws. 

Jersey Surf, the one and only corp from New Jersey!

Chuck jumped up and wanted to dance.  We were sitting like sardines in the stands, but the kid didn't care! And no one seemed to mind a chunky cat swaying to the music.

Cats and Drum Corp are purr-fect together!!

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Chuck Has Meet with Panda Bear

A few years ago I'd travelled to China, to the Beijing Zoo, and seen my first panda bear and made the big mistake of telling Chuck all about it.  Since then, Chuck had become obsessed with seeing the Panda up close and personal.  He wanted to look the Panda in the eye. 

“Are you thinking ‘show down’?” I asked him, as we were walking up  Connecticut Avenue toward the National Zoo.  

Chuck meowed in a non-committal way.  

“Because the Panda will be in an enclosure, behind a fence,” I explained.  “There is no way you are getting inside with him, Chuck.  You do understand that.”

Chuck has this weird way of grunting to show he is listening, but I’ve learned the hard way that this grunt does not always mean he’s agreeing with me.

“Tell me you agree with what I’m saying,” I repeated more firmly.  “No funny business.”

But Chuck didn’t answer.

I peered inside my shoulder bag and Chuck stared back.

By this time, we were ready to cross the street.  I rolled my eyes at Bob, frustrated, anticipating that Chuck might have something planned I was not going to like.  You never know with a cat named Chuck.

We proceeded toward the Panda exhibit, and, of course, it was crowded.  I located an area  away from where most people were gathered so Chuck could protrude his head out and not attract attention.  We scanned the exhibit area in search of the Panda bear.  

Suddenly, from where he'e been quietly sitting he stood up, this massive black and white bear, and began to lumber forward.  Towards where we were standing.  Impressive looking.  

From my vantage point, it seemed as if he had spotted Chuck and was making a beeline toward him to get a closer look.  He probably didn’t see too many cats visiting the exhibit.  

Chuck seemed just as eager to see the Panda.  Wiggling, he seemed determined to break free of my shoulder bag.  

“No way,” I said.

But Chuck only struggled harder to get out as the Panda bear lumbered closer and closer.

I snuck a peek at my husband who shrugged his shoulders.

“Do you think so?”

“Might as well.  Give the kid a thrill.”

I opened up my bag and out hopped Chuck.  He landed on the ground with a thud which clearly didn’t phase him.  He jumped sideways about three feet, then leapt over the fence and into the exhibit area, heading straight toward the Panda bear.

Now Chuck is no light weight.  At our last visit to the Vet he clocked in at fifteen pounds.  So when he walks, he lumbers forward, his front paws stretched out in front of him.  Boom.  Boom.  Boom.  Boom.  Closer and closer.  

And the Panda bear seemed to be as equally determined to get to Chuck.  

OMG.  It hit me then as the gap closed between them that what if this was not destined to be a friendly encounter.  What if that bear decided to eat Chuck for lunch?  He could quite easily swipe Chuck up with one paw . . . and . . .

I grabbed hold of my husband’s arm and was about to issue a warning when something magical happened.

Both of them stopped about a foot from each other. 

They appraised each other.

Then Chuck eagerly hopped alongside of the Panda Bear and gosh darn it, POSED.

“What the hell is that cat doing?” I whispered to my husband.

“He wants you to take his picture.”

With my heart thumping, I snapped a photo.

“Chuck, get back here now,” I hissed. 

  

Without another MEOW, he hopped back over the fence and into my shoulder bag.  The next thing I knew, he was fast asleep.  Exhausted.  

Crazy cat.  

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Chuck Invades Space Capsule at Smithsonian

One of the iconic sights of Washington, D.C.

I always blog about how Chuck is such a rascal and our trip to Washington, D.C. a while back was a perfect example of Chuck the rascal cat in action.  We arrived by train from New Jersey, and Chuck immediately meowed that he wanted to go to the Smithsonian Institute to see the space capsule.  You know,  the one that landed on the moon.  This was supposedly a secret wish he’d had ever since he’d been a kitten and saw some program on TV about the capsule.

Go figure!

So off we went on a beautiful February day, a Friday, to be exact, in the later afternoon, when luckily the tourist traffic was at a minimum.  Which was a critically important point because frankly, cats are not allowed inside the Smithsonian Museum, and it would take quite a bit of fancy maneuvering to get Chuck out of my backpack without being seen so he could sniff around the capsule and get an eyeful to his heart’s content if even a few people were milling about.

When we arrived at the Smithsonian, we made a beeline for the capsule which was on the first floor, but unfortunately, it was right in the middle of everything, in clear view of about four guides who manned the front desk.  We strategized.  Bob volunteered to go to the desk and act as a distraction while I wandered innocently over to the capsule.  My plan was simple.  I would stand on the back side of the capsule, wait until I was relatively alone, and then let Chuck sneak out and get a peak of the capsule.

Just one of the many vintage planes hanging from the ceiling

Of course, complications arose immediately because Chuck let it be known that he didn’t just want to see the capsule, he wanted to climb inside of it and pretend he was an astronaut flying in space.  The first cat astronaut, which would make Chuck a “castronaut.”   New word, new concept.

Chuck was hung up on the space capsule; I was also interested in the space suit!

More complications.  Oh, yes, we got Chuck inside the capsule.  Don’t ask me how many laws I broke to do that, but . . . we discovered almost immediately that Chuck was claustrophobic.  That capsule is tiny inside.  I mean really tiny.  It is hard to imagine how a human man fit inside there.  And Chuck, well, we call him Chucky Cheese behind his back.

He used to be a cute, adorable kitten.  Now he’s a cute, adorable fat cat.

But, still, Chuck is tough.  He insisted on rolling around inside the capsule as if he was weightless, which he is not!

This is where Chuck wanted to be!

Some imagination that cat has!

Then catastrophe struck.  I was standing there, my eyes glued to the interior of the capsule watching Chuck roll around when I heard, “Psst.” I whirled around in time to see Bob signaling towards a guide who was walking towards us.  With a frown on his face.  Trouble.

At the same time, I could hear Chuck “meowing” from inside, totally lost in the moment, enjoying his fantasy inside the capsule.

I knocked furiously on the capsule window.  “Niksay.  Niksay,” which was our code word for “Cease and Desist.”

Immediately the meowing stopped, and for one tense moment my life flashed before my eyes. What would happen if Chuck was caught inside the capsule? Would he be arrested? Put on trial? Taken away, never to be seen again? I tried to imagine life without Chuck.

But then what I would call a miracle happened.

Guide #1 who was hell bent and coming our way was intercepted.  By another guide.  There was a problem with the lunar module display case and now Guide #1 had to go and check it out.  

I whisked around, opened the capsule, pulled out Chuck and shoved the startled “castronaut” into my backpack.

Phew.

The cool space vehicle is also part of the exhibit!

The next day we returned to the Smithsonian Institute, but we’d decided it was best that Chuck remain at the hotel.  We ordered in breakfast.  There was a balcony.  It was a beautiful sunny day.  Chuck was resting comfortably.  Dreaming, no doubt, of becoming famous.

Chuck Glenn.  Or  Chuck Armstrong.  Or Chuck Lovell . . .

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