I'm watching an old Richard Lewis stand-up special and Marlowe asks me what's so funny. I tell him that the Prince of Pain always gets me. Marlow cocks his head in un-understanding. You know, the big-haired 80's comedian that always wears black. Nothing. High anxiety, neurotic humor; 1988 nomination from American Comedy Awards for funniest male performer in a television special. Just a fur-ringed, puzzled stare.
Finally, as he lowers his long head onto his paws, he offers, "He must have been before my time."
"But Boku Commercials!?" I entreat "You don't remember Boku commercials?" He didn't, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway; I'd already lost his interest, which I blame not on his small-cerebral'd species, but on his post-Y2K birthday. He's grown up in a world of iPods, tricked out Honda Civics, and real-time television voting. He only thinks it's funny if there's an exploding pie or some other epic humiliation. I wish the shelter would have warned me I was adopting a Philistine.