It Takes A Thief

Hello World, Beware the Ides of October and then some! Of course, even the most backward schoolchild remembers those evocative words of warning - although to be fair, spoken about March and not October - in Shakespeare's stirring "Julius Caesar." In a similar vein, anyone with even the most basic understanding of Latin could figure out that "octo" stands for 8, and "sept" for 7, and so might wonder (as well they might wonder indeed) why these months aren't the 7th and 8th months of the year, instead of the 9th and 10th months - with the same holding true to for "nov" (9) and "dec" (10) at 11 and 12 respectively, and not where their namesakes would be expected. It would be all too easy to lay the blame for this at the sandal-clad feet of the very same Julius Caesar (for whom the month of July is named) and also responsible for the Julian Calendar in 45 BC, which stood its ground, keeping the world on time until Pope Gregory in 1582. Not so fast! Actually, it was a reform of the ancient Roman Calendar in 700 BC by King Numa Pompilius, which added January and February to the beginning of their original 10-month calendar, that pushed everything back by 61 days and prevented the names of months from lining up with their numbers, even 2700 years later. No wonder he didn't name them after himself, he probably went into hiding after that, when everyone started asking why he didn't just add them to the end of the year instead, and leave everything else in its proper place. Personally, I think having New Year's Eve on the last day of Pompuary has a nice ring to it. Speaking of holidays, it can't be denied that Halloween will soon be upon us, with all the fun and frivolity that entails, and to the delight of little ghouls and goblins everywhere, I dare say. (Although alert readers on Facebook may have noticed a recent post encouraging the idea of an "Adult Halloween," where grown-ups wander the streets knocking on doors, and the homeowners oblige them with a shot of booze rather than candy - I should be horrified to report that this particular post had already garnered something like 143,750 Likes, and of course, everyone knows how I worry when things like this start to make perfect sense to me.) But I do have to point out that's not the worst of it, not by a long shot. Anyone watching television or glancing at circulars lately, couldn't help but notice what I would have to consider a whole new low in the category of "This Is Why The Terrorists Hate Us," which is Halloween treats for your pets, and I kid you not. They feature the seasonally-themed colors and flavors of the holiday, like they do with fun-size candies now, only they're for house pets instead of people. In fact, our friends at Petco refer to this as "Treat-Ween" for your furry companions, and apparently without a hint of irony, or even (heaven forbid!) embarrassment in this challenging economic climate, where you would figure that the very last thing we all need is one other stupid triviality to waste money on, heaven knows. (Come to think of it, I'm sure the President's economic advisers would be exceedingly grateful if we all would, and thanks ever so.) Now I'll be the first to admit that I find pet costumes to be adorable and harmless fun for the whole family (although at our house, we know that if we ever tried to put one of those frightful concoctions on any of our fur-ocious felines, well, let's just say that people could call us "Stumpy" from then on) but even I have to draw the line at holiday treats for pets, and that's not just the bacon-flavored candy corn talking, believe me. Meanwhile, at the temporary job I have in the real estate office now, I got a call out of the blue from a couple of strangers who were looking to rent some office space for their construction business, and they were hoping we had something in the range of 1,000 square feet that would fit the bill. Anyone who knows me can tell you that I always aim to please, so I invited them over to check out a vacant space we had in one of our buildings, and I hurried over there to meet them with a fistful of keys, that I had every reason to expect would be the right ones to open the door in question. Not so fast! It turned out that the contractor doing our bathroom renovations was using that empty space for their construction tools and materials, and had also changed the locks, so I couldn't get inside, thanks not. I managed to flag down one of the maintenance staff and he was kind enough to get the new key from the crew working on the bathroom, so at least I didn't have the prospective tenants cooling their heels in the hallway even longer than they already were. This was not making such a great first impression, I'm thinking, and as much as I tried to put a brave face on it, things actually got even worse when we did get inside, and were confronted with piles and piles of tile, pipes, grout, plywood, sinks, paint, ladders, and every other darned thing for the bathroom project, and once again, thanks ever so much not. At this point, I figured that my best efforts would be in vain, and who could blame them, but in a surprising turn of events, that ended up being very far from the case, as it were. They assured me that they loved the space, even in its bedraggled and derelict condition (did I mention that we had apparently also ransacked the joint for ceiling tiles that we needed for replacements in occupied spaces?) and without so much as making measurements or taking pictures, they were ready to sign the lease and give us a check on the spot. In retrospect, I said to Bill that they were obviously way too eager, and overly pleased with the poor abandoned place, out of all proportion to an objective examination of the premises, that would have sent any normal prospect running for the hills, or quite possibly even farther. In fact, on further consideration, they reminded me of nothing so much as a quintessential example of a pair of sitcom hoodlums, who arrange to buy the empty candy store next to the bank, so they can drill into the vault through the common wall, undetected and at their leisure, without arousing any suspicion. All I needed was Officers Toody and Muldoon to show up from "Car 54, Where Are You?" ("There's a hold-up in the Bronx, Brooklyn's broken out in fights ..... ") to make it complete. (For the rest of you old-timers out there, one of them would be playing the Sheldon Leonard part, while the other would be the Vito Scotti half of the equation, mustache and all.) As far as I know, there's no way for them to reach the bank from where they would be located, and I admit that I'm no detective, but I've watched enough television to see that there's obviously more going on here than meets the eye, and that's not just Sam Spade and Bulldog Drummond talking, by golly. On the sports scene, beleaguered Knicks fans must be loving their team roaring out to a 3-0 start (tied with the mighty Celtics, believe it or not) and probably only wish that these pre-season games could count for something, alas. None of this might translate into the regular season, but at least it was fun while it lasted. On the gridiron, the Jets (3-1) and Giants (3-2) continue to have respectable records, although nothing like the still unbeaten Bengals, Broncos, Packers, Panthers and Patriots - but on the other hand, way better than the woeful 1-4 records of the Chiefs, 49ers, Jaguars, Ravens, Texans, or even worse, the 0-5 Lions. On the frozen front, the plucky Rangers have a somewhat dubious 3-2 record, and while they're currently leading their division, and it's early days yet, this sluggish start certainly doesn't have "Stanley Cup" written all over it, by any means. But the best news of all is that the surprising Mets surprisingly ousted the Dodgers in 5 games, advancing to the second round of the playoffs in surprising fashion, and with their legion of loyal fans just as surprised as anybody, believe me. Even more unexpectedly, the unheralded Chicago Cubs somehow managed to actually beat the pride of the Midwest, the St. Louis Cardinals, in their series - which means that the teams with the two best records in the regular season, St. Louis and Pittsburgh, have both been eliminated. Next up will be the Mets playing the Cubs for the National League, and Kansas City playing Toronto in the American League, with the respective winners going on to the World Series after that. The Boys of Summer should wrap everything up by the end of October, but the way things go nowadays, it could easily take even longer - and thanks to the ancient Roman Calendar and King Numa Pompilius, they might still be playing in Numuary, albeit in their long johns and ear muffs, I shouldn't wonder. Speaking of wonder, at least it's not the winter wonderland of Pompuary, no doubt with its own red and green holiday treats for your pets. I tell you, this kind of nonsense is just a crime. Say, who let Dick Tracy in here? Elle