I have a particular fondness for all of the things in today's title. Poetry that makes me laugh or cry. The bad sci-fi of my growing up years, especially the original Star Trek and Lost in Space television series and a notable movie or three. Cats, most definitely. That brings us to boys, my favorites being the two I gave birth to. What could all of these things possibly have in common, you are likely thinking so loudly that I can hear you! Yes. I'm that good. Be patient, now, as I go about, in my endearingly illogical fashion, tying these most disparate themes together in some meaningful and entertaining way. On Friday, I found a bargain priced dvd of the 1976 movie, Logan's Run, and quickly snatched it up. Despite the many holes in the plot and some pretty cheesy acting, I like this movie for a number of reasons. Bad sci-fi, obviously. Pretty impressive visual effects for its time. And most of all, Peter Ustinov's portrayal of the Old Man, who lives alone among the ruins of a future Washington, DC, with a multiude of cats. He's a bit dotty, but most amiable, and explains to Logan and Jessica that all cats have three names. Which inspired me to bestow upon both of my sons a first, a middle, and a third name. The Old Man was quoting T.S. Eliot, from his poetry collection, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats. Which, by the way, was the basis for the musical, Cats. So, there you have it. Poetry, bad sci-fi, and the naming of cats and boys. Serendipitously, today is the birthday of T.S. Eliot, who was born in 1888. A poet, who by way of a schlocky movie, inspired me to name my sons as cats are named. Everyday, fancy, and secret.
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