R136a1

I read an article today on the discovery of the R136a1 star in the Tarantula Nebula galaxy. The article described the enormity of the star giving its size, weight and brightness.

It made me wonder how these so called scientists come up with these figures. I mean, it’s not like they can go up there and measure the bloody thing.

I also wondered why. Why does anyone need this information? So now we know the size of this star and that it’s brighter than the sun and that it’s seen in the Tarantula Nebula galaxy, so what? Who cares?

I find it simply stunning that some people study other galaxies. What, they became bored with our own galaxy? To saw everything there is to see, or know everything there is to know?

If they were to report that they found life on another planet, here or in another galaxy, that would be of interest, that would be a breakthrough, but it’s a star for heaven sake.

Seinfeld once worked the ridiculous findings of scientists in his stand up comedy. He stated that some scientists concentrated on growing the pitless melon. “Never mind,” he said “that people are suffering and dying from illnesses nobody has a cure for. These scientists devoted their life to growing a pitless melon.”

What does this have to do with the discovery of a new star? Well, I’m sure you can put two and two together.

The disappearance of Chanel

The weather forecast promises rain and thunderstorms for today. To be on the safe side they neglected to say where exactly. Is this rain to fall in Richmond Hill, in Kitchener, in Waterloo? From the looks of it, we in Toronto are not going to get anything. All I see are clear blue skies with big white puffy clouds here and there. A bit like the sky of ‘The Simpsons’.

To cope with the heat the cats have taken to their own private places to chill. Let’s take Chanel for instance ...

Yesterday morning I did a quick headcount and only counted four out of five cats. Chanel was missing.

I looked in all the usual and unusual places, but there was no sign of her.

“Chanel! Chanel!” I called ... no response.

I looked all over the apartment again. I went from room to room, looking under beds, in cabinets, behind cabinets, in closets, on windowsills ... nothing.

“Chanel!!!” I was getting frantic now.

None of the doors had opened, so she couldn’t have slipped out, but where was she?

I made a third trip around the place, calling as I went along. No response.

Where was that darn cat?!

Then I got an idea ... treats, if I rattled the bag of treats, maybe she would just show up.

Perhaps you’re familiar with the TV commercial for Whiskas treats where a cat comes crashing through walls and doors to get to the treats. Not that I expected such a reaction from Chanel, but if she would just show herself.

I retrieved the bag from the cabinet and rattled it. Charlie, Mickey, Charlotte and Gabriel immediately came running. I rattled the bag again and Charlotte gave one of her throaty meows, looking at me with eyes that said “Well, what are you waiting for?”

As I dished out some treats, there was Chanel, coming to get her share. She just appeared out of nowhere.

“Where have you been?” I asked her. No response of course.

I guess I’ll never know where Chanel had disappeared to. Is it possible that cats can beam up and beam down like Scotty used to do with the crew of 'Star Trek'?