Some day maybe Fred will win the fight
Then the cat will stay out for the night.
And when you finish doin’ that
Bring in the dog and put out the cat
Yakety yak (Don’t talk back)
from these clues I glean that in the late 1950s/early 1960s, it was common to make your cat sleep outside.
I don’t think that’s generally the accepted practice today. Moreover, in the Flintstones theme in particular, it seems like it was already a challenge to keep a cat outside.
Now, I can anticipate the criticism: couldn’t it be that the Flintstones theme is reflecting the rules of prehistory, and not the 1960s? I’d argue that if you review the Flintstones, and consider some details like co-habitation with dinosaurs, strict accuracy to prehistory was not a priority, in fact the show reflects the values of the time of its creation more than an imagined prehistory.
All of us humans, it seems to me, are like Fred, and we “lost the fight” to keep cats outside.
We’re told by scholars that dogs have been domesticated anywhere from 5,000 to 20,000 years longer than cats have been. Our co-evolution with cats is ongoing.
I wonder how cats convinced us they could stay inside. My cat is def not staying outside for the night (except for mysterious expeditions on cat business).
Finally read this one, and it’s a lot of fun! Well, by read I mean skimmed, there are a lot of details of dinners and discussions of particular plays of the period that didn’t hold my attention. Still, sift through the slag and there’s many a jewel here. Boswell was a young lawyer from Scotland when he met Johnson (Johnson never misses a chance to roast Scotland). He reconstructed the life of Johnson previous to meeting him, and then picks up, more or less writing down any witty or interesting things Johnson had to say, which were many.
On Johnson’s college years:
Dr Adams told me that Johnson, while he was at Pembroke College, ‘was caressed and loved by all about him, was a gay and frolicksome fellow, and passed there the happiest part of his life.” But this is a striking proof of the fallacy of appearances, and how little any of us know of the real interna state eveon of those whom we see most frequently; for the truth is, that he was then depressed by poverty, and irritated by disease. When I mentioned to him this acocunt as given me by Dr Adams, he said, “Ah, Sir, I was mad and violent. I twas bitterness which they mistook for frolick. I was miserably poor, and I thought to fight my way by my literature and my wit; so I disregarded all power and all authority.”
Johnson recounts to Boswell what happened on the way to his wedding:
Sir, she had read the old romances, and had got into her hear head the fantastical notion that a woman of spirit should use her lover like a dog. So, Sir, at first she told me that I rode too fast, and she could not keep up with me; and, when I rode a little slower, she passed me, and complained that I lagged behind. I was not to be made the slave of caprice; and I resolved to begin as I meant to end. I therefore pushed on briskly, till I was fairly out of her sight. The road lay between two hedges, so I was sure she could not miss it and I contrived that she should soon come up with me. When she did, I observed her to be in tears.
Despite this, it appears to have been a happy, if short marriage. Johnson’s was a love marriage to a woman significantly older than him. On marriage in general Johnson muses:
I believe marriages would in general be as happy, and often more so, if they were all made by the Lord Chancellor, upon a due consideration of characters and circumstances, without the parties having any choice in the matter.
When Boswell met Johnson, he was a widower, who’s often with his friends the Thrales or other people who take him in for his charm. For his dictionary Johnson got paid 1575 pounds, and “when the expense of amanuenses and paper and other articles are deducted, his clear profit was very inconsiderable.” As for money:
He frequently gave all the silver in his pocket to the poor, who watched him, between his house and the tavern where he dined. He walked the streets at all hours, and said he was never robbed, for the rogues knew he had little money, nor had the appearance of having much.
I liked this:
In 1761 Johnson appears to have done little.
Johnson has much advice about drinking and melancholy:
Against melancholy he recommended constant occupation of mind, a great deal of exercise, moderation in eating and drinking, and especially to shun drinking at night. He said melancholy people were apt to fly to intemperance for relief, but that it sunk them much deeper in misery. He observed, that labouring men who work hard, and live sparingly, are seldom or never troubled with low spirits.
I heard him once give a very judicious practical advice upon this subject: “A man, who has been drinking wine at all freely, should never go into a new company. With those who have partaken of wine with him, he may be pretty well in unison; but he will probably be offensive, or appear ridiculous, to other people.”
Boswell goes with Johnson to his hometown, Lichfield, and observes not much work going on:
“Surely, Sir, (said I,) you are an idle set of people.’ Sir, (said Johnson,) we are a city of philosophers: we work with our heads, and make the boobies of Birmingham work for us with their hands.”
Johnson chastises Boswell for using the phrase “to make money.”
Don’t you see (said he,) the impropriety of it? To make money is to coin it : you should say get money.
I feel like rappers are on to this one. On fame:
Talking of fame, for which there is so great a desire, I observed how little there is of it in reality, compared with the other objects of human attention. “Let every man recollect, and he will be sensible how small a part of his time is employed in talking or thinking of Shakespeare, Voltaire, or any of the most celebrated men that have ever lived, or are now supposed to occupy the attention and admiration of the world. Let this be extracted and compressed: into what a narrow space will it go!
We talked of war. JOHNSON: Every man thinks meanly of himself for not having been a soldier, or not having been at sea. BOSWELL: Lord Mansfield does not. JOHNSON: Sir, if Lord Mansfield were in a company of General Officers and Admirals who have been in service, he would shrink; he’d wish to creep under the table. Were Socrates and Charles the Twelfth of Sweden both present in any company, and Socrates to say, “Follow me, and hear a lecture on philosophy;” and Charles, laying his hand on his sword, to say, “Follow me, and dethrone the Czar;” a man would be ashamed to follow Socrates. Sir, the impression is universal; yet it is strange.
(I feel this is often misquoted, leaving out the “having been at sea” part, and the part about Socrates vs. Charles The Twelfth. Of course, if Socrates was in the Peloponnesian Wars like Plato claims, he could handle both).
He talked with an uncommon animation of travelling into distant countries; that the mind was enlarged by it, and that an acquisition of dignity of character was derived from it. He expressed a particular enthusiasm with respect to visiting the wall of China. I catched it for the moment, and said I really believed I should go and see the wall of China had I not children, of whom it was my duty to take care. “Sir, (said he,) by doing so, you would do what would be of importance in raising your children to eminence. There would be a lustre reflected upon them from your spirit and curiosity. They would be at all times regarded as the children of a man who had gone to view the wall of China. I am serious, Sir.
Johnson was not a fan of America:
From this pleasing subject [Jesus] he, I know not how or why, made a sudden transition to one upon which he was a violent aggressor; for he said, “I am willing to love all mankind, except an American: and his inflammable corruption bursting into horrid fire, he breathed out threatenings and slaughter, calling them, Rascals – Robbers – Pirates; and exclaiming, he’d burn and destroy them.
Later, Boswell tries to put this in context:
Notwithstanding occasional explosions of violence, we were all delighted upon the whole with Johnson. I compared him at this time to a warm West-Indian climate, where you have a bright sun, quick vegetation, luxuriant foliage, luscious fruits; but where the same heat sometimes produces thunder, lightning, earthquakes, in a terrible degree.
Depend upon it, said he, that if a man talks of his misfortunes, there is something in them that is not disagreeable to him; for where there is nothing but pure misery, there never is any recourse to the mention of it.
On Sunday, March 23, I breakfasted with Dr. Johnson, who seemed much relieved, having taken opium the night before. He however protested against it, as a remedy that should be given with the utmost reluctance, and only in extreme necessity.
The idea comes up a few times that Johnson might be considered something of an underachiever, or at least that his position in the world doesn’t match his brilliance:
Mrs Desmoulins made tea; and she and I talked before him upon a topic which he had once borne patiently from me when we were by ourselves – his not complaining of the world, because he was not called to some great office, nor had attained great wealth. He flew into a violent passion, I confess with some justice, and commanded us to have done. Nobody (said he) has a right to talk in this manner, to bring before a man his own character, and the events of his life, when he does not choose it should be done. I never have sought the world; the world was not to seek me. It is rather wonderful that so much has been done for me. All the complaints which are made of the world are unjust. I never knew a man of merit neglected; it was generally by his own fault that he failed of success. A man may hide his head in a hole: he may go into the country, and publish a book now and then, which nobody readys, and then complain he is neglected. There is no reason why any person should exert himself for a man who has written a good book: he has not written it for any individual. I may as well make a present to the postman who brings me a letter.
A zinger on Adam Smith:
I once reminded him that when Dr Adam Smith was expatiating on the beauty of Glasgow, he had cut him short by saying, “Pray, Sir, Have you seen Brentford?” and I took the liberty to add, “My dear Sir, surely that was shocking,” “Why then, Sir (he replied,) YOU have not seen Brentford.”
I shall never forget the indulgence with which he treated Hodge, his cat: for whom he himself used to go out and buy oysters
(Boswell doesn’t really like Hodge, but tolerates him)
Mrs Thrale, while supping very heartily upon larks, laid down her knife and fork, and abruptly exclaimed, “O, my dear Mr Johnson, do you know what has happened? The last letters from abroad have brought us an account that our poor cousin’s head was taken off by a cannon-ball.” Johnson, who was shocked both at the fact, and her light unfeeling manner of mentioning it, replied, “Madam, it would give you very little concern if all your relations were spitted like those larks, and drest for Presto’s supper.”
(Presto being a dog who was present).
One of Johnson’s good buds was the painter Joshua Reynolds.
from a Wall Street Journal article about what cats are up to, mentally:
There is little evidence that cats (or dogs, for that matter) have much in the way of an imagination, so cats that have never been allowed outside probably don’t miss the fresh air they’ve never breathed.
(was trying to learn about native cat and dog type creatures of North America)
Kunkush the cat reunited with Iraqi refugee family
from the Guinness Book of World Records, exciting news from Oregon:
as well as other less famous Internet cats, and both of Taylor Swift’s cats:
Seems like cat genealogy has to be a passion of somebody, no?
“I really never know what I’m going to get on Helytimes,” reports one reader.
The other day I got mad at my cat for doing something undesirable. Then later I was like, “what am I doing being mad at a cat? She has no idea what human rules are. She is a less than one year old furry mushball. She is completely alone in the universe, with a brain incapable of processing even the simplest language. How would she possibly know what’s good or bad in a house? To her a flushing toilet is a marvel as wondrous as the Tomb Of Jahangir at Shahdara Bagh.”