Tyler Talks Lounging

August 25th, 2013 by Magdalena Tabor

tylerI’m a cat. Synonymous with the word “lounge”. Beans do it too but not on as grand a scale as we felines. Dogs? They have their “dog day afternoon”. We have our morning, noon, and night.

Pick a spot. Any spot. The rug. The bookshelf. The stairs. Anywhere the Beans call “underfoot”. “Tyler, are you underfoot again?” No. Your clodhoppers are looming like a three toed Brontosaurus trying to balance on a golf ball. But it’s always MY fault when they topple over . Graceful they are not.  And always complaining about having to “two step” around me in front of the kitchen counter. Why don’t they one step then? And why does it have to take so long for them to prepare their own meals? They only need two seconds to serve me mine. Flip! Plop! There! Right out of a can and couldn’t be yummier. I much prefer my “Sea Captain’s Choice” over their “Rosemary Chicken (who’s Rosemary anyway?), Potatoes a La Magdalena (I know her)and Toasted Almond String Beans” (Oh, my Catnip! They’re cannibals!) Then they make so much of it, they have to eat it AGAIN  the next day! They always lie and say it tastes even better.

The stairs are a wonderful place to lounge…. I have an aerial view of the entire living space, just like a tree top retreat! But Oh No, “Tyler, you’re in the way again!” they lament as they come clodhopping their way into my space. Why do they always have to go up and down, up and down? Look out! A storm is fast approaching! The room is going dark! Oh. Never mind. It’s just the shadow of Dad’s foot hovering overhead like a helicopter out of designated airspace.

The bay window is a favorite and a much sought after place of refuge we cats vie for. Why they call it a “Bay” window when there’s no water in sight is a mystery, especially when we live  on a street called “Lakeview”. The only water is a pond down the street you can’t even see from the window hidden in the woods. But this so called “Bay” window is nice and roomy where I can      S-T-R-E-T-C-H out and enjoy the sun or watch a parade of dogs go by with their Beans attached to leashes. The Beans are always dragging behind and just can’t keep up. And some of them scoop up the poop like it’s gold. Very peculiar. What do they do with the stuff?  It’s obviously worthless which is why the dogs got rid of it in the first place. They don’t covet the poop in my litterbox. They just throw it away! Hmph!

The Beans always come home and lounge about in “recliners”, “sofas”, and “beds”. Why don’t they try the floor? Or the coffee table?  Or the bathtub? They apparently don’t know how to relax. Just one time I’d like to take a ride in the Jeep and see a Bean sprawled out in the window watching the world go by. 

So………..whadayathink? Why are Beans always in the way? Why don’t they sit on the rug in front of the kitchen sink? And why, oh why, are their feet so big??


Red Woman

August 21st, 2013 by Magdalena Tabor

Red Woman.redwom

Red as clay.

Of the Earth.

Of its ways.

Storm driven

Wind women

Chop the Sea

Into icy waves.



What is Blue

If it’s not a Woman?

What is Red

When a woman grays?

Red Woman

Singing Blue notes.

Chop the Sea

Into cold caves.



Red Woman.

Blood Woman.


To what stays.

Two sticks

Tied together,

Make a Cross

And ride the waves.



What is Language

When it’s lost?

Speak the Truth

Through a Heart’s maze.

Red Woman

Writing Blue letters,

Cross your T’s

On a White page.



A – Rod Accuses the New York Yankees and MLB

August 19th, 2013 by Michael Tabor

Instead of gracefully accepting the 211 game suspension for using steroids and other performance enhancing drugs, Alex Rodriguez is making matters worse by accusing the Yankees organization and Major League Baseball of something you might see right out of a mob movie.  A – Rod and his sleazy lawyer, Joseph Tacopina, are actually claiming that the Yankees were trying to sabotage and permanently end his career by inserting him in the line – up even though they knew that he was seriously injured.  What this means in a nutshell, is that the New York Yankees – in cahoots with MLB, were more interested in getting rid of A – Rod and his bloated 270 million contract rather than win perhaps another championship.  What an outrageous allegation!!! As the New York Times stated, this scandal would be worse than the Chicago White Sox throwing the World Series in 1919.

I know Alex Rodriguez is hurting and believe it or not, despite all the money, I can imagine what he’s going through. He’s without a doubt a super talented guy and we all know that EVERY player juices (even Jeter –  he just hasn’t been caught yet).  However, this is beyond the pale; a prodigiously desperate attempt by Rodriguez to salvage his dignity and reputation. Every ballplayer wants to be loved by the fans (he’s the most hated player in the league right now) and that’s only human, but now he’s making a fool out of himself.

So WhaDaYaThink ? What do you think ?  Do you have any sympathy at all for Alex Rodriguez ?   arod


Tyler Talks “Vote For Me”

August 15th, 2013 by Magdalena Tabor

The position for NYC Mayor is up for grabs and I’m the cat for the job. It’s no more laughable than that Weiner guy I heard about wanting to assume the post. At first I thought he was one of those dogs. You know, the frankfurter ones but then I found out he’s a Bean. Franks and Beans, I queried? No no no, they said, a Human Bean. But then later they confirmed he really is a dog, so I was right the first time. But the canine club vehemently disputes this and rightfully so, calling him a clown. But I think they must be confusing him with Pee Wee Herman……or maybe not. In any case, the office of mayor is serious business, one of which requires certain qualifications, such as I possess:

Must register with the NYC Finance Board – Check!tyler

File periodic disclosure statements – Check!

Observe CFB limits. Not exactly sure what the anacronym stands for but it must be Cats For Beans. This will be observed but without limitations, after all Hemingway had LOTS of cats – Check!

Comply with NYS Board of Elections campaign financial disclosure requirements – uh, okay – Check!

So you see, I’m your perfect candidate and not just all talk. As NYC Mayor I propose to be your biggest advocate for the homeless, not restricted to cats (and dogs) but Beans as well. The more Beans that have a roof over their heads, the more potential homes there will be for cats (and dogs). In the meantime, since I will not be residing at Gracie Mansion, all of the homeless will be housed there until other accommodations can be had.

As mayor, I will enforce a mandatory two and a half day work week. Monday, Tuesday and a half day on Wednesday for half the NYC population while the other half will work the remaining half day on Wednesday, then Thursday and Friday. There will absolutely be no weekends worked EVER. This will free up more time for the Beans to spend with their pets at home catering to their every whim. Beans working at designated animal shelters and pet friendly businesses such as Petco will receive a tax break. There will be no dress code other than the required brightly colored flea collar.

No one will go hungry. There will be plenty of Fancy Feast to go around by stepping up production of this fine cuisine. What? Beans don’t like Fancy Feast? Nonsense! They’ll never know the difference after 5 star restaurants mix it all up in the entree. Dogs like it too and will be required to accompany their Beans at table at all the finest establishments. There will be no discrimination!

In an effort to spark tourism, the musical production of Cats will play at NYC’s theatre district indefinitely along with The Lion King. And as a nod to the American Girl Place on Fifth Avenue, we will begin construction alongside for American Copy Cat, copying the same concept where folks can bring their felines to dress them up in the latest fashions, get high end salon treatments, and buy lunch at exorbitant prices. Sounds silly? Nothing silly about cashing in on the frivolities of Beans and turning a profit.

There are over 8 million Beans in the City of New York, and countless numbers of cats (and dogs). I know I won’t get all the votes but I am optimistic. Just don’t get dog slobber all over the ballot machines. Some Beans are opposed to it and cats detest it.

So……….whadayathink? I think I can win by personality alone, not to mention my striking good looks. At least that’s what they tell me. When  I look in the mirror I just see another cat. I wish he’d stop staring at me. It’s so rude. But I’ll be amiable. I just might get his vote!


This Mayoral Race is Now a Freak Show

August 12th, 2013 by Michael Tabor


New York politics has always been an ugly business but this is now becoming a circus.  Anthony Weiner unbelievably called his rep. opponent, George McDonald – “grandpa” of all places at an AARP (American Association of Retired Persons) forum. Obviously, Weiner’s comment was outrageously inappropriate and indefensible; however all of his opponents won’t let the “sexting” scandal go.

We all know what Anthony Weiner did and he’s not dropping out of the race, so the candidates ought to just move on and start talking about real and important issues. Here’s the video of the exchange and as you can see it looks like they’re actually going to get into fisticuffs –  two grown men behaving like children.

So WhaDaYaThink ? What do you think ?


Away Out West

August 10th, 2013 by Magdalena Tabor

western sky

Dreaming on desert skies.

A palette of ponies

Brush my eye.

Palomino golden glazed.

Appaloosa dappled grays.

Red Rock Canyon

Bruised and braised.



Saddle up my paint box prize.

Laced and liquored

All untied.

A bare backed rider rodeoed

Dances to a do-si-do

Away out west to cameo.



Fringed and frayed

Against the dawn.

The squeak of leather

Spurs me on.

Nothing like the desert dust.

Dry enough to never rust.

Too young to die but die I must

Away out west.

Away out west.


Tyler Talks Vo-Cat-ulary

August 4th, 2013 by Magdalena Tabor

tylerIt’s astonishing how many words in the English language begin with the letters C-A-T. This is no accident and although the Human Beans acredit themselves with this distinction, the simple truth is, cats are the ones responsible. Isn’t it obvious? Felines consider this misnomer cat-a-strophic! Here is just a sampling of some of the words and how they originated.


Cats are very spiritual and founded the first known retreat at the base of a chasm in (where else?) Katmandu. It was called Katachasm but over the course of time the Beans changed the spelling to suit their own needs. I’m not sure why nor is it of any real significance.


In times of illness a special elixer or tonic was prepared rendering the feline immobile assuming a trancelike state. The original recipe may have included too much gin. Needless to say, cats have abandoned the practice altogether and leave it to the Beans to continue this bizarre behavior.


This word is attributed to the long haired feline variety such as Persians and Angoras who require a special grooming device called a comb. These tools were originally discovered during an archeological dig uncovering an ancient crypt in Egypt where cats of royalty were entombed. In the years following, the Beans adopted the burial procedure but many of them were bald. The name “catacomb” however remains the same with or without the hair.


How many cats can perform feats of acrobatics balanced on a log? The answer is in our archives. The contest was first held in the jungles of Africa by our forefathers. Every year since, the names of the contestants and the winners have been filed for posterity. This filing system is still used by some old timer Beans today but the dawn of technology has rendered the filing cabinet obsolete.


Oddly enough, this word was born as a direct result of the cat-a-log contests. The leftover logs were used to create rafts for a flotilla honoring the winners. Much like a ticker tape parade but without the ticks. It was called Catamaran for no particular reason. It just sounded cool.


A derivitive of the word Cat-artic, the first feline explorer of the region staked his flag to inform all new comers they were trespassing into a “no ice fishing” zone.  It was a good way to purge himself of all the grief it took to get there and stake a claim into territory he would probably never set paw in again. Writing his memoirs was very cathartic. The Beans inserted the H to make it more “human”.

So……………whadayathink? Becha never knew cats were responsible for some of the most interesting words in the language of Beans. I learned all of this from my grandfather who was a great spinner of yarn. They said he had a tall tail.


The Cutting Edge

August 3rd, 2013 by Magdalena Tabor

soup canLast night was the official start of my long anticipated week long vacation. Was I happy! A whole week ahead with nothing to do but what I desire. Yes! Time to spend doing exactly what I please or please not to do. I began by doing a few menial chores…..stocking shelves with recently purchased groceries and preparing supper for the “kids”. Upon thrusting my left hand into the recyling bag to dispose of the cans, my left index finger experienced a sharp slicing pain resulting from an exposed rim of can discarded by “someone” earlier. I screamed because I knew it cut deep enough that might require surgery, something experienced many years before. It was bleeding profusely. I shouted for Michael while I ran to the bathroom to run it under some cold running water while I searched for peroxide and band aids. Michael stood by not knowing what to do. I ordered (and I do mean ordered) him to get me a towel to stop the bleeding while my mind raced and replayed my years ago ordeal.

It was almost the same scenario, only I was opening a can with a manual can opener when the knuckle of my right middle finger sliced into the rim of the partially opened can. The cut was deep but healed, however the scar developed a cyst thus requiring a biopsy by a hand surgeon.  I was sent to a specialist in NYC’s posh Central Park area. The surgeon’s office and facilities was housed in a very impressive 1800’s mansion complete with an expansive marble staircase upon entrance. It was the kind of residence Woolworth might have owned. I was directed to wait in what was once a stately parlor with floor to ceiling windows banking one wall overlooking a  courtyard, a pleasant diversion of what was to come.

After awhile, I was led to a small room containing an operating table elevated to a sitting position. Unlike all of the other patients, I did not have anyone there to “take me home”, in fact it was my intention to go to work directly after at my office in midtown. This was of some concern to the doctor who said he would call me when I got home and asked what time I was expected. The surgery, which was performed using a local anesthetic, only lasted a few minutes. I felt nothing (at first), was bandaged with a small wooden stick inserted to force the finger in a straight position and instructed to hold the hand upright to prevent blood from flowing into it. This I dutifully did (although somewhat self consciously) while walking the several blocks (it was a nice day) to my office in mid town.

Picture a nice young girl, dressed in office attire, walking the streets of Manhattan during the height of lunch hour with throngs of people. Seems like a normal enough picture, right?  Ah,  yes. Only, this girl has a very conspicuous white bandage on the middle finger of her right hand  which she holds, rather alarmingly, upright. It was bad enough I had to hold it in this embarassing position, but someone actually looked  at me and LAUGHED! I was mortified. By this time my finger was beginning to throb. I stubbornly plodded on, got to the office, was felt sorry for (“why did you come in?”) and went home at my scheduled hour. No sooner did I walk in the door, when the phone rang. It was the surgeon to make sure I was okay. That made my day. He really did care.

Getting back to my present situation. Day two. The bleeding has stopped. I will not require stitches. If it develops some abnormality in the days to come, that remains to be seen. In the meantime, I need not fear any humiliation other than the green and yellow Incredible Hulk band aids I accidently bought last summer at the drug store. Beats walking down 5th Avenue with an FU gesture aimed at the world. A nice girl like me…….

So……………whadayathink? Can you think of a better way to kick off your vacation? The emergency room isn’t one of them. The only thing that’s urgent is getting some R&R.


The Manning Verdict Is a Complicated One And Now The Sentencing …

August 3rd, 2013 by Michael Tabor

Is Pfc. Bradley Manning a whistle – blowing hero/martyr or a traitor? Even if you think Manning is a “Benedict Arnold”, I think the not guilty verdict of “aiding the enemy” is a sound verdict and the correct one. Contrarily,bradley I also believe the presiding Judge, Col. Denise R. Lind, was right about the GUILTY verdicts regarding the other plethora of espionage charges – again, regardless if you think he is a hero or traitor.  Most people polled agree with the verdicts but what’s going to be prodigiously difficult, is the sentencing.

Private Bradley Manning released 100s of thousands of top – secret military and policy documents not to the New York Times, The Washington Post, nor to some of the other reputable news organizations, but rather he released this monumentally sensitive and classified  information to the highly questionable,  WikiLeaks for all the world to see, including such enemies as Al Qaeda. So, I think we all can agree upon the fact that Manning was stupid, naïve, and reckless and  obviously not just some innocent victim of our criminal justice system which the defense would lead you to believe that he, Private Bradley Manning was – just a guy who was outraged by the war atrocities committed in Iraq and Afghanistan. In fact there are many people out there who believe in the theory that he was an angry, bitter,  and resentful closeted (or was he openly gay ???) homosexual who wanted to get back at for one, his right – wing conservative father who incessantly berated him.

It’s all very confusing in terms of what Manning’s motivation was, but one thing that bothers and scares me is how it was possible for a low – level guy just like Snowden had 1. Access to all this classified and profoundly deleterious information that could have (according to the prosecution) potentially crippled the security of this nation and 2. Why was this so – called “top – secret” information so easily obtained??? This is a quote from Bradley Manning, which I find to be absolutely mind – boggling: “  I got this information and it was so easy, there were weak servers, weak logging, weak physical security, weak counterintelligence, and inattentive signal analysis.”


So, WhaDaYaThink ? What do you think ? Believe it or not, Judge Col. Denise R. Lind can sentence Pfc. Bradley Manning to 136 years – wow !!! Just think about it, if I had information about a “My Lai Massacre” and the government deemed that information “top – secret and classified” I could get a life sentence for revealing the unspeakable evil that the government of the United States is capable of.