Cheap Thrills James Bauhaus    2010

 I've never been much for cheap thrills, but I've been told about some that were so hideous that they stick in my mind, like a seeping, infected wound My own cheap thrills are quite mundane by comparison. When I was young and arrogant, I would occasionally get a good laugh at the expense of cats. They kind of bring it on themselves, because, if you pet them, or feed them, they begin to follow you, rub up against your ankles and generally risk injury or death from being stepped on. My favorite way to "protect" them from this horrible fate was to slide my toe under their stomach and just give a little flick. The result was hilarious to my tiny, adolescent mind. Tom goes spinning through the air; claws spread wide on each foot, trying desperately to snag a curtain, chair-leg, anything. He looks utterly surprised and ridiculous. Sometimes the merriment of cat-flinging is compounded when they give out an amazed vocalization: REOWR!

R's a guilty pleasure, just remembering; which I stopped doing soon as I matured. Most kids' cheap thrills involve driving cars fast and recklessly, usually to the accompaniment of loud music. This was probably the situation when one of the best persons I've ever met indulged his cheap thrill. Rodney told me that he and a friend were doing 40 or 50 miles per hours when they agreed that it would be screamingly funny to chuck a cat out the window, just to watch it bounce and roll to a stop.

They did, and you'd think that would be the end of it, since I imagine that such dirty deeds are, by their very nature, done under cover of darkness. Whatever they saw must have intrigued them, because they went back to check on the end result. They found the cat tangled in the weeds, still alive. They petted it and cooed over it while looking for blood, abrasions or broken bones, amazingly, it was only mildly contused. They brought the poor kitty back to the truck and resumed their journey. At 60 or 70 mph, they chucked it out again.

They found it again, and were doubly amazed that it still survived and seemed to suffer very little damage. They carried it back to the truck. Soon as the kitty got its wits back, it clawed its way under the seat. Rod's passenger had a devilish time ripping it out of that hiding place at 80 or 90 mph. They chucked it out a third time. They didn't find it, but Rod guesses it survived.

A few weeks after he told me this story, two Springfield youths were jailed for gleefully chucking a puppy out the window at high speed. This type of animal cruelty must be common. Also, animals can be pretty stupid on their own. Our family dog jumped out the window at 50 mph himself. He scraped his nose badly, but otherwise seemed unhurt. Having seen him bounce and roll down the highway probably sated any curiosity on this subject I might have had later in life.

At about the same age as when Schnapps leaped out to chase a rabbit, I spent vacation with my huge cousin in Texas. Dale was older than me, too. He drove us down to the stock-pond on his Cushman scooter. I followed him along the bank where there were lots of sex-crazed frogs peeping and croaking. They were almost impossible to see in the mud, and when you got too close, they'd abruptly leap into the water, KER-PLOP! Dale had good eyes, and probably a lot of practice. After only a few tries, he managed to hurl a small boulder on top of an unlucky frog. It made a sucking sound when he pulled the stone out of the mud. At the bottom of the pit was a peeper, caught in mid-jump, one of its legs horribly mangled. Dale was proud to show me his rock-throwing ability. I was very impressed, but couldn't help seeing that still living creature's eyes and thinking: what did that frog ever do to you? But Dale was a great guy. He lived on a farm, and it's not like he could pop wheelies on a twelve-foot long Cushman.

Surprisingly, it's not just young boys who like cheap thrills. Animals like them on occasion too. And not just do g-and-Frisbee stuff either: real adrenalinsoaked, heart-palpitating dangerous cheap thrills.

For example, one morning I was feeding the birds in our yard and watching the squirrels Bogart their cut. Then a curious cat came by, wondering if he could slip up, close enough for a leap. The birds were too wary, but not one brazen squirrel. He was a punkkid type squirrel, testing his speed and agility. He came down the tree, almost to ground, and chattered at the cat. The cat, an adult, knew about squirrels. He looked at the squirrel in that haughty way that cats have, daring him to come close. The squirrel came closer, chattered louder, and made quick lunging fakeout movements toward the cat, as if he was going to charge the cat.

Crafty kitty became slightly more interested. His tail whipped behind him, out of sight of the squirrel. He crouched a little, setting his claws for better traction. Even the birds felt tension building. They ceased their chirps and squawks to watch the show. Only four feet separated the cat and squirrel.

The squirrel chattered again and fake-charged six inches closer. Kitty sprang. Squirrel suddenly switched ends and ran for the tree. Kitty landed on squirrel's tail, but could not get a claw in. She continued to chase him up the tree, but stopped at the first branch. Squirrel stopped too, four feet away, two feet higher.

The standoff resumed. Sassy squirrel scolded kitty. Kitty calmly watched, waiting for a better opportunity that she knew antsy-squirrel would eventually provide. Squirrel maneuvered himself directly above kitty. Only three vertical feet separated them. Before kitty realized that squirrel was also slightly behind him, squirrel leaped. He landed on kitty's back, thumping her so hard that she had to use all her claws to stay on the branch. Meanwhile, squirrel hugged her neck, and beat her butt with his back feet. Kitty let go. A twisting, churning ball of flashing grey and blurring tabby fell six feet to the grass. The impact seemed to separate the two. Squirrel blasted up the adjacent tree with kitty only inches behind. Squirrel, being lighter and the superior aerialist, leaped six feet to some thin branches on the next tree. Kitty couldn't make it; squirrel didn't stop. Seems like he had his fill of cheap thrills.