Don't fear for me Oakland.

Poor Kuro. Once warm and well-fed in the bosom of a loving home. A gentle nuzzle of Glen’s ear in the pre-dawn hour brought poured bowls of Tender Vittles and 2% milk.  Evenings, Kazuko’s lap ensured sanctuary and a certain scratch for that jaw-bone itch. Once a week Kuro would permit Kauzko to gently ring her collar bell or Glen to play that inane game with the gray tube sock.

Then a wrong turn on her afternoon patrol jeopardized  everything.

Now she is lost and cold on cruel streets of Oakland. Territorial dogs, express busses, cackling crows and wet nights under decks. She will lose two or more of her nine lives. But don’t fear for Kuzo. She is a surivor. She is sharp and resourceful. She has menacing eyes and an extra set of toes.

That’s right. Extra toes.

She's got two eyes and a nose. She's 'Over-Abundance of Toes.'

We’re rooting for you Kuzo.

OAKLAND, CA — An Oakland man was unable to leave his house today after all attempts at assembling an acceptable ensemble failed. An email to his employer confirmed that Jim McSilver would not be coming to work for the rest of the week, as he no longer had a jacket to match to his shirt, shoes and pants. The missing jacket, which sources have described as black, cotton, relatively inexpensive and “a wardrobe staple,” was last seen in the vicinity of Piedmont Avenue. Neither police nor the jacket’s owner have any clues to its whereabouts. In a statement made through his lawyer, McSilver declared, ”Without this critical keystone of my wardrobe, my only alternative is to be naked.”

‘For Lease’ has become the sign of the times on nearby Piedmont Avenue. Several of the bustling boulevard’s long-time businesses have recently closed: the over-priced antiques knickknack shop; the wood-paneled hair salon; the lighting store with the cranky owner. No doubt that fresh replacements will soon bloom in these prime storefronts. But few shuttered businesses will leave such a glaring gap in my smile as the 20-year local fixture, Piedmont Stationers.

In this digital age, I feel a touch foolish mourning the loss of a small store that sold paper, pens and day planners. I am not a stationary fetishist. I do not make my own paper by hand, nor covet the sensual contour of a Cross Pen.  But I loved their cards. Birthday, wedding, shower, and retirement. Their selection was microscopic, yet always perfect. Their cards never felt churned from a Hallmark assembly line. These gems were occasionally handmade, sometimes locally. and often retro-cool. Most had a dash of irony, but were always quirky and wonderful. The cards fit my sensibility, but more importantly I could usually find one to fit the personality of the recipient.

When life was less complicated (such as the early to mid 90’s), I often hand-made cards for friends and relatives. This store sold the cards I would have made with more time and more talent. When sending a card selected from Piedmont Stationers, I felt I could retain a hint of the “this card was made just for you” feel that made giving special.

My nearby CVS has a card section longer than my house. Office Depot has a boggling selection of Post-Its and printer cartridges. It is certainly easier and cheaper to order office supplies online. There must be some online shops with quirky, unique paper cards (Can anyone really get excited about receiving an e-card?). But none of these can replace the real value of a Piedmont Stationers.

More than just their cards, I will miss the sense of neighborhood fostered by this store. I will miss a shop with personality and character. I will miss the old-time and obscure (1970’s) candies by the register. I will miss the friendly counter help, the convenience and lack of a line at the register.

The loss of my neighborhood stationary store is not primarily about my nostalgia for great cards, the satisfaction of sending mail or even the tactile appreciation for paper. It’s really about the gap left when personality, artistry and intimacy have been removed from our communications and interactions.  And so I must end by acknowledging the irony that the first post on this blog, truly a broadcast mode of communication, mourns the loss of the birthday card, the most narrowcast and personal forms of communication.

Step up to the window.
No need to wait in line. All your missing stuff can be found here. Lose your car keys? Your password?  Your lunch? That lovin’ feelin’? You may find it here. If you don’t see it this week, wait a week or two, check back. You’ll find it here eventually.

The first posts will appear soon…

Despite predictions by a broad spectrum of economists and Obama Administration officials that improvements in the housing sector are imminent, signs on the street indicate otherwise.  A dramatic increase in pet homes foreclosures in the past two months stunned experts. Trends indicate the market may be more mired than many had hoped. Dogloos, cages and cat scratch towers litter sidewalks and back alleys lately as owners and lenders reclaim these domiciles from cash-strapped pets.

Martin VanKeuren, head of the California SPCA admits, “It’s a dog eat dogloo world out there.”

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Since the advent of gym class, black socks have been a ‘scarlet letter’ for geeks everywhere. Black socks worn with shorts are a blaring beacon for pale, scrawny legs. No ‘true athlete’ would  dare approach a court, field or track in anything but white hosiery.

It took a man’s man to finally make black socks cool. And not any jock could achieve this feat. Such a challenge requires one of the world’s strongest and most successful. After winning the Tour de France an unprecedented seven times, Lance Armstrong could make his ’09 comeback wearing a muumuu and scarf and still scare the shorts off his competitors. Much has been written in cycling blogs about this break in bicycle tradition, but it’s implications for the mainstream fashion world are immense. And sporting black socks  in the French countryside is not simply a Beaujolais and massage induced faux-pas. He also wore black in the 2009 Tour of California and Giro d’Italia. Fashion world take note!

Two months after the Tour of California wound through Southern California, blogger Jeff  Ircink reported that LA has already begun to embrace the new trend.

Update July 15th: Robin Williams ribs Lance for his black socks in this Livestrong video. In addition, Jeff Bean reports that Lance first sported black way back in 2004! Apparently it takes a major comeback to start a fashion revolution.

Doing things yourself is overrated.
My two-year-old  insists on doing everything himself. But age and wisdom, have taught me that life is more relaxing when you allow others to do work for you. For instance, is there a more thankless task than letter writing? Especially ‘thank-you’ letters. Why should I write them myself when I can delegate to an assistant? A personal assistant. Pictured below is my new assistant (although he prefers to be referred to as my ‘apprentice’). He was  a gift for my 40th birthday, and has turned my life of drudgery into a worker’s holiday. Most days I forget that I am not a spa-pampered retiree.

Does he bring me pencils and paper clips? Whenever I need them. In truth, I never do need them since he does all my menial desk work. Does he bring me beverages on his ‘included’ tray (not pictured)? Not yet, but he will when I finish training him.

Many friends have purchased sleek personal digital assistants with bright colors and fancy applications they can flick away with the wave of a finger. …How ‘early 2009.’
Analog is  the future. My Personal Analog Assistant never needs recharging or software upgrades. With a simple wind-up he springs into action. And with the magnet glued to his chest, he’s ‘future-ready’ for when mag-lev becomes the dominant mode of travel.

Ok, I will admit that his range is currently limited (about 3-4 inches in whatever direction I point him). His tray won’t stay in his hands (thus all the spilt drinks). But what new technology does not come with a few bugs? And what apprentice does not require some training? Drop by sometime to say hello, and I’ll ask him to bring you the mini-umbrella for your piña colada.