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Monday, October 5, 2009

When You Live with Your God in the Garage

I went to visit Steve a couple weeks ago. He is living in a building on a friend’s land, a Spartan existence of concrete floor, bare-stud walls, a sheet of heavy plastic dividing his living area from the wood shop. Like Steve – or me, or perhaps, even you – his place of residence is a work in progress.

Steve is not exactly of this world, or perhaps even of this planet. Had he been born in another time, he would be someone you would visit on the top of a mountain or somewhere in a cave. Steve’s got an incredible amount of patience as well as many, many answers, some of which could actually be in response to a question.

Steve’s not everyone’s cup of tea; but then again, neither am I. He’s a dear friend, and we “get” each other.

He’s also a source of devilment, however, the man who punishes any perceived misbehavior on my part by enforced watchings of “Apocalypse Now” (knowing how it freaks me out) or required listening of fire-and-brimstone preachers exhorting me to both “get right” and to also “dig deep” in my pockets.

Have you seen my pockets? I sold them to pay for the pants.

Still, Steve’s a happy person, a maker of hand-crafted electric guitars, funky high-heeled women’s shoes (which I’ve had the pleasure of modeling), a painter, a sculptor, and songwriter.

He is also a full-time god.

Just ask Pig.

Pig is his cat, a slender black animal with the sense to recognize and appreciate Paradise when he comes across it. Steve believes in a clean food bowl and a clean litter box, has taught the cat to “sit like a walrus”, and claims Pig once ran lights for that Australian Pink Floyd group.

I think he made that last part up.

In return, Pig worships Steve. The elaborate weaving about the ankles, the way the cat pulls his lips back in a toothy smile when he hears his master's voice, the seismic purring whenever Steve says “I taut I taw a puddy tat!” all speak to their mutual admiration.

It’s a simple life, a cash-and-carry life for a man and his cat; and I can’t help but be a bit jealous of their relationship.

I’ll bet it’s nice to be worshipped in such a way. And I’ll bet it’s even nicer to sleep at the foot of your god’s bed.

25 comments:

That Janie Girl said...

Sounds like a cool cat - Steve, I mean.

I wanna see pix of the guitars! AND the shoes, of course!

My boys LOVE LOVE LOVE guitars.

Pearl said...

Janie, Steve's on my FB page -- and so are you, I believe! I'll have to ask him to get a pair of those shoes up there. They are completely impractical -- not unlike Steve. :-)

Amber Star said...

Has Steve made you watch Apocolypse Now Redux? It is much worse than the regular movie. I think I like this Steve who strikes a perfect balance in his life with the perfect cat; however, I'm concerned about this winter and heat for them...Steve and his black cat.

Pearl said...

Amber, you and I are in agreement re: what the winter will do to them. They are both very close to the main house, however, and can always go in there if the weather gets to be too much.

http://howtobecomeacatladywithoutthecats.blogspot.com said...

Steve sounds like my kind of friend... a little weird and fun to be around. Do you suppose he could make me a pair of heels in a size 12?

Berowne said...

I always thought it a bit strange for a guy to live with a cat.

Until I did it -- for 13 years.

Cordelia was a true friend; unfortunately she was struck down last week by an unsolvable cancer.

Lear, to his Cordelia: "Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, and thou no breath at all?"

Irisheyes said...

Wait til Janie has a look see at Steve's hand carved guitars. He is quite talented. Happiness is a warm Steve. Thanks for making me smile Pearl!!

IB said...

I love this post, Pearl. I had a friend sorta like Steve for a while. It's fascinating to me that some people have the ability to completely side-step the norms the rest of us need. I am a little jealous of that.

f8hasit said...

Hey Pearl....I tagged you for an award. You needed a little sumtin' new for your sidebar.
:-)

darsden said...

Very vice to meet your friend Steve, good ang funny post about your friend.

ellen abbott said...

Sounds like my kinda guy. I might even have known him in a previous incarnation.

Anne said...

So you follow my blog, Pearl? Why??
I come over very prim and British and boring compared with your funky beer'n'wings existence. My Norwegian lifestyle is very lacking in Mexicans, bars with bingo, junkyards and chili competitions. My humble thanks for your polite and patient interest- your writings should be gathered into a book and published. Is Erna Bomback dead?

Pearl said...

CatLadyLarew, our Steve is a strange one. I’ll see what he says about the shoes!

Berowne, my condolences on the loss of Cordelia. A good cat is an excellent companion – it’s a good thing to be love a cat, and be loved in return. I’m glad you stopped by. I shall drop in on you, leave a choice word or two. :-D

Irisheyes, are ya smilin’?! So glad you came by. Happiness IS a warm Steve (bang bang shoot shoot, is it?)

IB, I’m a bit jealous of him at times myself. He lives by his own rules. Not easy to do.

F8hasit, ooh! What is it?! What is it?! Is it chocolate? Beer? Chocolate beer?! :-D

Dar, he would make you laugh. In a good mood, there’s nothing like Steve.

Ellen, in a previous incarnation, you and Steve probably hitchhiked from one end of the country to the other with nothing but a flask and a towel – and had a blast doing it.

Anne, our dear Erma is dead; and it’s funny you should mention her, because I read her as a child. That’s a really big compliment, so thank you. And why do I follow you? Because I am interested in people, from all over the world. Minnesota may be chockfull of Mexicans, chili competitions, beer and wings, but it’s also full of Norwegians, a lovely and modest people who have influenced our speech patterns and taste in sweaters. Nice to check in on a “real” Norwegian every now and then, just to see how the other half live. :-D

Unknown said...

We all need Steve's in our lives...
Just to remind us...

that we all have the ability to be devilments as well as gods.

Peace - Rene

Jeanne Estridge said...

Hmmm...I dated a guy in St. Paul who hand-made guitars.

And would have been perfectly happy living like Steve!

Liz Wilkey (a.k.a. A Mom on Spin) said...

Yeah, sleeping there would be awesome!

Fragrant Liar said...

Wow, he makes high heels? And you model them? I totally want to see that! Got pics?

He sounds like quite a character, which, in my view, is what makes the world go round.

Cwybrow said...

Wow. I could build a house out of my books, I guess. It's the only way I'd be able to live with and without them at the same time.

♥ Braja said...

I've got a cat that worships me.

On his own terms.

And I do sleep at the foot of my god's bed. Mysterious comment, huh?

:))

Christine Gram said...

My "steve" makes me CDs of the right music to listen to and made me throw away all my Bon Jovi. And I have to admit that he was right.

maphead said...

The kingdom of heaven will be mudded tomorrow.
God

Pearl said...

Rene, he is both!

Jeanne, sometimes I wonder if you and I know the same people!

Mom on Spin, sounds warm and comfy, doesn’t it?

Fragrant Liar, I will get some pictures. And paint my nails. They really are beautiful. The shoes. Not my toes.

Omchelsea, I have a collection myself, but only a small igloo’s worth. :-D

Braja, a mysterious comment from a mysterious woman. Namaste, baby!

Christine, we all need a Steve. My Steve has introduced me to all kinds of music I may not have heard without him. I spent two weekends ago listening to King Crimson with him!

Maphead, AKA Steve, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you on here! I’ll have a small tithe for you soon – making ham and bean soup this weekend. We’ll commune.
:-D

Krëg said...

Yes, I must know more about these guitars.

Jocelyn said...

Oh, your last line!

Killer awesome.

Along with a bunch of others, especially selling the pockets to pay for the pants.

Clearly, I don't get out much, right?

@eloh said...

This sounds like my kind of guy...does he need a mother?