Who am I? It's in the cards!

NOTE: I am posting an essay that I wrote in the early 1990's. (I could not find an exact date.) I does not deal with words, but with how society defines the individual through various cards. Initially, I intended to edit the piece to reflect contemporary life. However, I am amused at the slice of history that it provides regarding what is now archaic technology. Perhaps in the future, I will write a piece that reflects how the replacement for cards--keyring tags--reflects our lives in the mid-2010's.

Awhile back at dinner with friends, the subject came up in conversation of my membership in an organization devoted to kitties and good cheer.  As one friend expressed skepticism as to the existence of such an organization, I assured him I had a membership card proving it.  As I dug through my wallet in search of the elusive card, my friend expressed amazement at the number of cards I possessed.  Thinking everyone has as many cards in his or her wallet as I, I was amazed at my friend's amazement.  Ultimately, I found the necessary card and conversation moved on.

Several months later, I received notice from my book club informing me that since I have been such a devoted member, I had been exalted to Preferred Member status.  To prove my enhanced status, my book club sent me a card, attached to the bottom of the letter, with their convenient toll‑free number for Preferred Members, so we could order more books with less stress.  The card, in tasteful beige, also has my name and account number printed on it.  Below the card, I found a warning:  "Peel card off letter before using."  Carefully, I tore off the section of the letter with the card along the perforated lines for that purpose and tucked the whole assembly in my wallet, amid my myriad of other cards, pondering when I might actually use the card and thus rip it timely from its backing, and what would happen if I used the card without peeling it first.

In contemplating such an action, I reflected on Mojo Nixon's song, "Washing Dishes."  In the song, Mojo lists several conventional activities in which he will no longer participate.  One such activity is carrying an ID.  In situations which call for an ID, he claims he will simply say, "Hey, there, sucker, can't you see it's me, me, me?"  Recalling my earlier conversation with my friend, I reopened my wallet to see how many cards could testify to my existence.

My findings amazed me.  I have cards attesting to my social responsibility and indemnification, such as vehicle insurance cards, my medical insurance card, and my dental insurance card.  I have cards attesting to my identity, such as my social security card and two faculty ID cards.  I kept my old faculty ID card when new cards were issued because my old card identified me as faculty whereas my new card did not.  One never knows when one may be accused of studenthood.

I have convenience cards, such as a card allowing me borrowing privileges at a nearby college library.  That card cost me $20.  I have my personal New York Telephone calling card and an MCI calling card issued by my employer so that I might make personal long distance phone calls from my office.  Never mind that I have a personal calling card or that I might need to make business calls from my home.

I have cards from two video rental stores, even though my VCR has been broken for months.  I have an ATM card, which I got after months of taunting from my husband.  He could not understand why a medievalist technophobe eschewed interacting with computers rather than people.  The first several times I tried to use that card, either the machine was broken or some problem necessitated that I go in the bank and interact with people.

In addition, I have miscellaneous cards, which are nice to carry but mean very little, including my kitty organization card and a card indicating membership in a women's writing organization.  I found a Citibank VISA information card, with appropriate numbers for emergencies, such as if I lose my wallet.  I found an old Mark Grace baseball card obtained from a box of Post cereal.  I officially renounced the Cubs a few years ago, even scraping my WGN bumper sticker off my car and replacing it with an "I 'heart' my basset hound" sticker, after the Cubs front office paid Ryne Sandberg an obscene salary that even he is not worth (and has since given up) and traded Andre Dawson to Boston.  Finally, I found an assortment of miscellaneous business cards.  I have a charge card and a credit card, but I keep them separate for ease of access.

After perusing and sorting all my cards, I gathered them neatly and thoughtfully tucked them back in my wallet.  My wallet bulged, as if it were full of money.  Then, I remembered my book club card, which I am to peel from the letter before using.  Every month, I receive a return post card, to mark with my order.  Occasionally I wonder how much time will pass before I finally do peel the card and use it?  Or will I succumb to temptation, and use the card before peeling it?  And if I do, what will be my fate?

 

Larking on an ark

Having a lark on your ark? What‘s a-waft on your watercraft? Whatever floats your boat! (Get my drift?)

Now that Memorial Day has passed, water sport season has opened in full force.  Perhaps you will load up the ark with friends and family—two by two--for some fun touring whatever body of water you have access to? Possibly you plan on taking the ark out for some water skiing? Do you have plans to gather your buds and head out fishing in your ark or check your trot lines? 

Depending on the purpose of your water adventures, you may own a canoe, a sail boat, a kayak, a motor boat, a party boat, a skiff, or even a tub. In South Louisiana, you may own a pirogue or a bateau. But an ark?!?

In a recent conversation regarding when the story of Noah and the Flood occurs in the Bible—Genesis, chapter 5—questions regarding why boats are not more commonly referred to as arks came up. After all, in the Old Testament, the vessel which Noah builds is not just a boat or a canoe or even a ferry, but an ark. So why are watercraft not more commonly called arks after the “archetype” of watercraft?

I have to insert a disclaimer before I continue. The word “ark” is translated from the original Hebrew, so the choice of the noun “ark” could be the translator’s choice.

That being said, I pulled out my ever-trusty Oxford English Dictionary for some insight. The first meaning listed for “ark” is “a chest, box, coffer, close basket, or similar receptacle.” More specifically, this meaning is the familiar one of the place where the tablets of holy law are housed, as in “the Ark of the Covenant.” 

“Ark” as in “Noah’s Ark” is defined as “the large covered floating vessel in which Noah was saved at the Deluge.” Therefore, the meaning metaphorically refers to a place of refuge. According to the OED, “ark” meaning “a ship, boat, or similar floating vessel” is a transferred meaning from that Biblical place of refuge. The American Heritage Dictionary ultimately defines “ark” as “a large, commodious boat.” 

None of this information truly answers why the word “ark” is not more commonly used for watercraft. Regardless, many of us who utilize watercraft—boats, canoes, kayaks, pirogues, bateaux, and such—do find refuge in our “arks” from the workaday world.

LAGNIAPPE: See my earlier blog entry “Travelin’” for a discussion of barks as another word for boat.

Cats—WDSS (What Does Shakespeare Say)

My previous blog entry opened a can of worms about a bag of cats. The current blog entry will follow-up that examination of proverbs which refer to cats with a discussion of the burning question, WDSS (What Does Shakespeare Say), about cats. Cats clearly influenced Shakespeare’s choice of character names, as in Fleance from the Scottish play. In addition, Shakespeare uses a variant spelling of Clawdio, Claudio, for characters in Much Ado About Nothing and Measure for Measure.

The Phrase Finder notes that many English proverbs mention cats, providing the following list:  a cat may look at a king (1546); all cats are grey in the dark (1596); curiosity killed the cat (1921); there are more ways of killing a cat than choking it with cream (1855); and when the cat is away, the mice will play (1607). The Phrase Finder explains popularity of cats in the English language as a result of them being widely kept as mousers and pets. However, as Shakespeare created the world—at least in my version of the creation story—and hence the English language, the number of cats in English proverbs comes as no surprise.

As I contemplated how Shakespeare uses cats in his plays, a few examples popped to mind immediately, such as his characterization of Tybalt as the King of Cats, meaning a formidable opponent and capable swordsman, in Romeo and Juliet. I also thought of the line from Hamlet, “The cat will mew, the dog will have his day,” or as Andy Warhol phrased it in modern times, everyone will have his or her fifteen minutes of fame (MEOW).

Next, I took the traditional approach and consulted the entry on “cat” in Alexander Schmidt’s Shakespeare Lexicon and Quotation Dictionary.”  I report here on a few of my favorites from the multitude of usages. 

For the actors among my readers, the next time you get a role in which you “tear a cat,” as Bottom hopes for in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, you will rant and rave, perhaps like a bag of cats. In that same play, Lysander, under the influence of the love-in-idleness potion, thrusts his former lover, Hermia, away with these words, “Hang off, thou cat, thou burr.” (They end up married at the end.)

Lady Macbeth, in questioning Macbeth’s doubts about killing King Duncan in order to take his throne, asks why he got her hopes up “Like the poor cat in the adage?” The adage refers to a cat who would eat fish but dares not wet her feet. (Both Macbeths ultimately end up with much more than wet feet.)

In Much Ado About Nothing, Benedick arrives to challenge Claudio (see above on naming) for unjustly accusing Hero of infidelity. Claudio, surprised by Benedick’s boldness, comments, “What, courage, man. What though care killed a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care.” The allusion to cats refers to the belief that cats have nine lives so it had to be a powerful “care” to kill the cat, thus a powerful emotion in Benedick.

The Tempest offers two mentions of cats. In the first, Antonio speaks to Sebastian about corrupting certain servants to achieve evil ends, saying “They’ll take suggestion as a cat laps milk.” My favorite usage of cats, however, is the second, occurring in a comic drunken scene involving Stefano, Trinculo, and the savage Caliban. Stefano has a bottle of liquor, an elixir previously unknown to Caliban. Stefano exhorts the savage to drink, “Open your mouth. Here is that which will give language to you,” alluding to an old proverb that good liquor will make a cat speak. (If you decide you want to try to make your cat speak, I suggest other means than giving your cat liquor, however.)

Finally, I took the post-modern approach, Googled “cats in Shakespeare,” and found this link on PandEcats.com, “The Cats of Shakespeare.”

LAGNIAPPE 1: I believe I told this anecdote in a blog months ago, but it bears repeating here. Many years ago, I lived with a cat named Clawdio, an adult cat whom I adopted from a local shelter. Since I gave him a Shakespearean name, I decided to teach him to mew Shakespearean speeches, with no success. I learned the hard lesson that, indeed, you cannot teach an old cat mew tricks.

LAGNIAPPE 2: This trivia is not relevant to cats but to Shakespeare. I realized recently that Hamlet begins in the middle of a knock-knock joke. The first line of the play, spoken by the guard, Bernardo, is “Who’s there?” Perhaps Hamlet is so conflicted because he missed the set-up of the joke; hence, he puzzles over it for the remainder of the play.

LAGNIAPPE 3: I would like to recommend two cat-related books: (1) The Big New Yorker Book of Cats (2013); and (2) The Guest Cat, copyright 2001 by the author Takashi Hiraide and 2014 by the translator (from the Japanese) Eric Selland.