A change floats through the air. The difference in the length of a shadow at the same hour each day, with temperatures cooling a few degrees to match, marks the new setting on life's calendar. Colors on the trees take on a different shade for the occasion and begin to drop.
I see a remake is coming to television this Sunday. What a shock for audiences throughout America to find a relic of the past dusted off and sold as new . The Prisoner remake will premiere this Sunday on AMC. It could be enjoyable, it could be pointless. It certainly is not breaking any new ground. The original series, which starred the late Patrick McGoohan, defined smart and different television for a generation. Campy and ironic in a Cold War fantasy land filled with questions without answers. Number 6 tormented endlessly by his captivity.
The Prisoner remake announcements bring to mind the torment my furry feline friends of more than decade have experienced for six years now. There it is, that coincidental Number 6. "Who is Number 1?" The cats have questioned me daily with that question, but only in the rhetorical sense. Each of the three believe firmly that they are Number 1.
The cats are now out and about exploring the neighborhood, crossing paths with their unfortunate brethren who do not have the luxury of the nice warm beds at night to comfort them when meandering the fence lines becomes tiresome. Vicky and I can't really call the three cats taking up occupancy at this house ours today anymore than we could 7 to 12 years ago, when in a different city near a river these three felines had the complete run of the area.
Life changed.
For six years the cats in our keep were on lock-down due to a housing decision that landed them on a busy street in a neighborhood where many people treated cats as vermin. The reality found life on the inside very boring but far safer than life on the streets as target practice. The new digs offer a break from the boredom of safe walls and a chance to examine surroundings again. To live a life as cat.
The only worry that pops into my brain at this juncture concerns the time between freedom. Has the tick-tock of the seasonal clock robbed them all of the quick reflexes of their youth? Do fences once easily scaled pose bigger challenges for them should something ferocious decide to charge? But, life is a risk for all of us. I enjoy their company, just not enough to make them into Number 6 for perpetuity's sake.
I guess we'll all watch and see how the number six deals with today's realities.
