It seems that athletics and stealth-ham-theft are not enough for our
overachieving Roxie. Now she aspires to opera.

Louie and I sing. We hooked up at a karaoke joint, did karaoke for our
wedding instead of the traditional first dance, and still go out
caterwauling 2 or 3 times a month. Louie's had musical training and has a
well-developed voice and excellent pitch, and he'll practice something to
sing at the bar with all the intensity of a Pavarotti or a Giovanni Jones.

Last night he was on an Alan Parsons Project freak, and was going through
that vast catalog, when Roxie came by his feet and started singing along in
a very sweet soprano voice. She was purring up a storm and rubbing herself
all over Louie as he practiced, moving into the Moody Blues, Yes, and Jethro
Tull. She is clearly a progressive-rock fan. Neither of us had the idea that
Roxie was so attracted to music. We have the radio going on more than the
idiot box, and she's been hanging around with us and the other cats. Who'd
have thought she was getting culture! Now we have to figure out the others;
Stosh and Brandy, I imagine are headbangers, while I imagine Odessa enjoying
new-age or minimalist jazz.

Fritzie (RB) also had prominent musical tastes. He couldn't abide Queen,
unless it was covers done by the Royal Philharmonic; at the first note from
Freddie Mercury he'd run all over the house and start tearing at things. I
discovered his favorites were jazz and classical, with kd lang and Lisa Loeb
thrown in for variety.

Roxie will be appearing at the Dome Stadium this weekend, performing "What's
New Pussycat?"

Blessed be,
Baha