Ross’s Internal Editor: Hello, Ross. Happy New Year. Thanks for taking the time to see me.
Ross Murray: Well, the mirror was right there, so no problem.
RIE: Is this a good time? You seem to be struggling with that colourful-billed North Atlantic seabird.
RM: Oh, it’s fine. It’s because today is January 9, the 15th Day of Christmas.
RIE: You mean…
RM: It’s Epuffiny
RIE: I see. Yes, well, that’s as good a segue as any to discuss why I’ve asked to see you today.
RM: Again, the mirror was right in front of me…
RIE: We were all so pleased that you took two weeks off from your blog, especially since you mentioned that you’d be using that time to reflect on how best to apply your ample talents.
RM: Actually, that was a typo; it was supposed to read “my pineapple talents.”
RIE: Be that as it may –
RM: I can also perform marvels with mangos.
RIE: Be that as it may, we were pleased you were undergoing this period of reflection because, well… Before I go on, let me just say how much we’ve all enjoyed hearing stories about your family and your household over the years.
RM: Even the cats?
RIE: Oh, sure, the cats too. Your satire could sometimes be a bit of a head-scratcher but most people got it. Sometimes you could be really silly but who doesn’t like some silliness now and then?
RM: My cousin Rodney. He’s been anti-silly since 1987.
RIE: Well, you can’t please everyone. My point, Ross, is that, while readers have never fully known what to expect from you as a blogger – which is unusual in a blog format, you have to admit – they could at least count on something entertaining to distract them from the cares of our worrisome world.
RM: Thanks! That was beautiful. Maybe you should be the writer, Internal Editor!
RIE: Not so fast. You see, over the past few months, Ross, you’ve gotten… weird.
RM: “Rimageddon,” I should have said.
RIE: No, you shouldn’t have. I can go on, Ross.
RM: So can Rodney.
RIE: Consequently, when you said you were taking two weeks off, we all expected you’d come back refreshed, revitalized –
RM: Rezoned as a heritage property.
RIE: Please focus, Ross. We thought you’d be back in form, especially with all the children home for Christmas. Surely shenanigans would ensue.
RM: Some of us caught a cold. But not me. I was inoculated. With cheese.
RIE: I don’t see how –
RM: So much cheese…
RIE: Regardless, we had high hopes. And yet I’ve taken the liberty of reviewing what you’ve been working on for your first week back.
RM: Umm, it’s not finished yet…
RIE: Let’s see what you have here: you start with a whole paragraph on spaghetti squash.
RM: Can you believe until two weeks ago I’d never tried spaghetti squash? I was always like, “Who are you trying to kid, squash?” But now I am totally on board the squash-noodle train. Toot toot!
RIE: But then you worry about how much water might be consumed in their industrial production and whether the vegetables are grown in inhumanely cramped quarters.
RM: You know: squashed.
RIE: From there, you suggest you could do your bit to reduce needless consumption by “making judgey faces at shoppers at the cash.”
RM: Have you seen my judgey face? It’s very high-horse.
RIE: And somehow this all leads to your announcement that you will be dedicating yourself to the field of competitive rhythmic gymnastics.
RM: It’s all about the sequins. Oh, and by the way, I’m very lithe.
RIE: Hang on –
RM: My wife is always telling people, “He lithe all the time!”
RIE: You didn’t actually write this part yet, but I know for certain that you were planning to incorporate the fact that an Archie’s Double Digest has sat on your bathroom shelf since 2005.
RM: Happy 15th Archieversary!
RIE: None of it makes sense!
RM: I know! I mean, Betty and Veronica are both smart, confident young women. Why would they waste their time on a nogoodnik like Archie?
RIE: Ross. We’re worried about you. Can’t you just write some nice stories about your life?
RM: But the house is empty now. It’s quiet. It’s just Deb and me, the dog and the cats.
RIE: So write about the cats.
RM: The cats? Really? We’re not tired of the cats?
RIE: You can never have too many cats.
RM: That’s what my wife says.
RIE: So we’re good?
RM: Fine. 2020: The Year of the Cat.
RM: By Al Stewart.