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Profile picture Bruce Atkinson
Is there anybody out there?
Anyone? Bueller?
Profile picture James Wyman Re: Is there anybody out there?
Yo, B, why don't you copy the entry from your My Space page that details what you've been up to over the course of your adult life and paste it here? That really is an interesting read.

I would also like to say Baaaaby Laaaamb to you.
Profile picture Bruce Atkinson Re: Is there anybody out there?

jaswyman wrote:

"Yo, B, why don't you copy the entry from your My Space page that details what you've been up to over the course of your adult life and paste it here? That really is an interesting read. I would also like to say Baaaaby Laaaamb to you. "
Jeez, I don't know. I'm afraid posting my Myspace entry might appear a bit self indulgent. Do you think it might provoke more life-story sharing? That's really what I'm interested in. I want to know all the details of peoples lives. I find it all very fascinating. I'm just afraid my MySpace entry would put everyone to sleep. I just think this is an amazing opportunity for people, via the internet, to be able to connect and share their stories leading up to the reunion. Mimi and I were discussing this also. She claims that other friends of hers have had amazing reunions because of the internet. Hey I'll post my story if you'll post yours. You took the scenic route to become successful corporate attorney in Miami married to supermodel. Com on with it. I'm pretty sure John Hammel will also join in. His story is the most amazing of all. Some people don't want to know and don't want people to know the details of their lives. I can certainly appreciate that. But there must be others like us that are curious and don't mind sharing. OK here goes...
Profile picture Bruce Atkinson Re: Is there anybody out there?

oxbowbrat wrote:

"Jeez, I don't know. I'm afraid posting my Myspace entry might appear a bit self indulgent. Do you think it might provoke more life-story sharing? That's really what I'm interested in. I want to know all the details of peoples lives. I find it al"
For you SHS Class of '75-ers, in response to James Wyman's request and in the hopes of inspiring more of you to share your stories in more depth, I am posting this reprint of my rather lengthy bio from my MySpace page. Ironically the inspiration for my MySpace bio was in case an old classmate etc. were to find me (i.e. all of my Summit friends) they could see just what I've been up to.

"OK, this is long, but the beauty of MySpace is I only have to say it once. So in case you're wondering what ever happened to Bruce Atkinson, here's a summary of the first 50 years of my life. A sort of "Where Are They Now" except in my case it's "Where Was He Ever?" I was born September 17, 1957, son of Dr. Sam and Marjorie Atkinson in Summit, New Jersey. Studied Cello and Piano, picked up bass guitar in 9th grade, played soccer, tennis, ice hockey and did the weight events in Track and Field. Had friends and girlfriends, wasn't really popular, tried to be cool in 8th grade, had my heart broken by my highschool sweatheart. That's the normal part.
In 1975, I was all set to go to Colgate U. early decision when I got a call from this guy who said he was a recruiting agent and wanted to give me a full scholarship to Rice University. I had been offered many scholarships at this point (for some reason I was really good at throwing the javelin) but never heard of Rice U. Turned out this guy was acting illegally according to NCAA rules but ended up getting the scholarship anyway. With a little incentive (Dad bribed me with a new car - back then that was a big deal!) I accepted and off I went to Houston, Texas and Culture Shock!! I didn't even know where Houston was.
Here I was in Texas, driving a Toyota Celica with New Jersey license plates and a ponytail and mustache getting run off the road by pickup trucks with rednecks and gun racks in the back listening to Country Western music. I might as well have had a bullseye painted on my butt. It took me a long time to get used to Texas (and for Texas to get used to me) but I finally did (actually the women and the food). In addition, I managed to land myself in one of the few universities where the only thing lower on the food chain then "Jocks" was plankton. And girls? forget it - an entire school full of Ugly Betties whose idea of sports was to glue pictures of famous "Jocks" to their dartboards and have their way with them. I was living "Revenge of the Nerds". The only reason I lost my virginity is I bribed an old friend in New Jersey with Todd Rundgren concert tickets while home on Summer break. Nope, no free lunch at Rice U. I had to actually study and make the Deans List before anyone would talk to me in complete paragraphs.
On the advice of my parents and high school music teachers, I studied psychology, phys ed and education. I tried pre-med, made it through ten minutes of Chemistry 101 and that was that. I tried pre-law, but hated Poly Sci. Then I just settled on Pre. I finally graduated with a BA in BS in 1980 (no not in music) - I know - a year late, primarily because of questionably moral behavior with girls off campus and too much nitrous oxide during my first two years. I did take some classical bass lessons as a non-major from a fabulous bass teacher by the name of Paul Ellison at the Shepherd School of Music, but I was wasting his time. So with my new degree I set off to conquer the world... During my senior year I met and became best friends and off-campus roommates with a nice Jewish Boy who sold me my first Life Insurance Policy. What with all the (fill in the blank) and driving around listening to Rush in his Lincoln Mark IV, Gary could have persuaded me to illegally migrate to Mexico, and so, on his urging, soon after graduation, I started selling Life Insurance door-to-door - probably the only thing worse than migrating to Mexico. In the meantime, I had put an ad in the paper to put a band together, just for fun. The two pro musicians, John Listi and Tom Huda, I met as a result of that ad were telling me "What, are you crazy? Why are you selling life insurance and not doing music? You have talent!" Somehow, they were seeing something in me that magically escaped my parents and every music teacher I ever had. Well that was an epiphany. No-one had ever actually encouraged me to go into music.
So after getting chased by angry dogs and almost getting shot to death in north Houston neighborhoods, not to mention charging up my gas card with no hope of paying the bill, I had had enough and decided one night to quit drugs and alchohol and cheap suits and become a musician. As I sat there and cried and outlined aparitions of Mother Mary on my wall, I realized I had no idea how I was going to make that happen. (footnote: for any young people tuning in - I did not begin to get my life together until I quit recreational drug use) Well, the next day I got a call (true story) to audition for a Top-40 band (sounds of vomit), a somewhat hideous band but not too bad for the first try. I've been a full time musician ever since. I never looked back.
Suddenly I was making steady money, paying my bills and women were actually letting me touch them. Life was good indeed. After playing in numerous touring bands (Hotel lounges, bars and saloons in Louisiana and Texas) with some really great musicians and singers, too numerous to name, I landed what was to become a career changing gig at an upstairs jazz club called Las Brisas in the artsy Montrose area of Houston. There I honed my jazz chops and finely tuned my ear with the help of the extraordinary Drene Ivy, a wonderful pianist from Cleveland. I still remember him pulling me aside one night and saying "you're not playing the concept man". I asked him what that was and he said "I can't explain it. Come over to my place and we'll listen to some sides together". I replied, "no need, I know what I need to do". I went out and bought every Eddie Gomez, Ray Brown, Buster Williams and Ron Carter record I could find.
As I listened to the masters, it became clear to me what he was talking about. By the end of the year Drene was turning around and smiling at me. I knew I was starting to get it. In hindsight, 1983 at Las Brisas would turn out to be the most musically rewarding (and challenging) year in my career. Also the year I married my first wife. However, towards the end of '83, between Yuppy posers, who for a time thought it "cool" to go hear jazz, finding other shallow, trendy things to do and the drummer (his parents owned the joint) snorting all the profits up his nose, I realized my days as a jazz bassist were probably numbered.
It was during one of my Sunday "Modern Jazz Trio" sessions at Las Brisas with the late pianist Dave Catney and legendary Keith Karnaky that I met a few musicians that would again alter the course of my career. I auditioned for and got the gig with the Paul English Group, comprised of drummer Herman Matthews, guitarist, Dwight Sills, and keyboardist, composer and leader Paul English. We played chop-busting original and cover jazz fusion until the gigs dried up. The core of that band later became a locally successful cover band called "New Toys". We sprinkled some originals in there and got signed to a meaningless and unproductive record deal.
Around the time of my divorce, in '87 Herman announced he was moving to LA to play in Kirk Whalums band. That pretty much took the wind out of the sails of our band which was going nowhere fast and that was my cue. I had already gone about as far as you can in Houston, gig-wize that is, so there was nothing to lose and everything to gain... So off I went in '88 to be a hit songwriter in Los Angeles. Of course, that never happened, but I did pen a number 2 song on the national Smooth Jazz charts with Michael Lington (and I did save money by switching to Geiko.) Oh yeah, I won 1st place in the Billboard Songwriting Contest in '91. And the crowds cheered... but as usual, nothing came out of it, just a little money in the bank and a modicum of validation.
So here I am in LA, with no money and fewer friends doing some low paying society work, whatever I could get my hands on. I was working for this crusty old ex-piano bar playing fart named Clark Keen who would take six weeks to pay me and then the freaking check would bounce. I was literally paying rent with credit cards - running on fumes. But, while most musicians were showing up at his house with Guido, I actually liked the guy. That was the beginning of a period where what few friends I had began noticing I had some serious character flaws. I didn't care. I was starving, but happy to be here. We had a small recording studio and life was good. I was sure it was just a matter of time before I made it big. So who cared if I was broke?
After a beginner's-luck international tour with Randy Crawford and some really memorable gigs in the Greg Karukas band, I settled into the Society, "Casual" gig world. I started to actually make a living! Then, in '91, after a brief stint in an on-camera band (a la Letterman) for the daytime talk show "The Chuck Woolery Show" where I earned enough money to make a downpayment on my first house, a drummer friend of mine, Gary Mallaber, introduced me to Jimmy Messina, you may know him from Loggins and Messina, Poco and Buffalo Springfield. I started a long touring relationship with him. That was an amazing experience. I realized I was working with one of the guys who wrote and recorded the songs I was groping girls to in the back seat of my '67 Plymouth Baracuda in '74 anf '75. I still work with him to this day from time to time. We've had a lot of laughs on the tour bus. It was also in '91 that I met this beautiful, talented singer named Christine Day ( (shameless plug) who would become my bride a few years later. She was dating this young, good looking guy who was coming into 30 million dollars in inheritance. She left him for me. I guess it takes one character flawed person to recognize another.
We are 14 years into a very happy marriage. A few years later, as luck would have it, my old friend and bandmate, Herman Matthews threw my name into the "hat" for the bass chair with Richard Marx. I guess his bassist was hassleing him too much about money. Last I heard, that guy's selling real estate in Nashville. That began another long touring and recording relationship with Richard. Needless to say, I never complained about the money. I'm no longer in his band but I had a blast for many years. Got to hang out at his incredible north Chicago suburb estate with his lovely wife and three sons and see what it's like when you do everything right and have more talent than any one man deserves to have. It was through Richard (and Herman) that I met Kenny Loggins and ended up doing a little touring and recording with him. He liked the way I played "Footloose". Apparantly, R&B slapper types have a hell of a time with that one.
Nowadays I'm doing a lot of vocal sessions as well as upright and electric bass. Turns out I'm a pretty good singer too. Whoda thunk? Some years later, my career took another weird turn. My wife's brother Johnny Oliver died suddenly in an equestrian accident. He tried to coax his horse that he knew hated water across a stream. Horse 1 - John 0. I never really knew him that well. I was dating Christine before I realized he was her brother. He was very big in the TV and Film industry casting musicians for on-camera work called "sidelining" and also recording music for on-camera playback, composing, on-set music supervision etc.
We set ourselves to picking up the pieces of his company and keeping what few accounts we could. That was Spelling TV and Fox Television. It took a lot of makeup to cover the green but we fooled them long enough to get the experience we needed to succeed. We made this Christine's baby as I still just wanted to write music and play bass and sing (delusional). But we were a good team and we managed to keep things alive. We worked on many prime time TV shows and Films over the years. Most of the songwriting and recording I did in these latter years has been specifically for TV, not too much artistic stuff. What we learned through it all is that the egos in TV and Film are actually bigger than in the music business.
It was through the relationships we formed over the subsequent years and to this day with VPs of Music, Directors, Producers, Music Licensing professionals and Music Editors, some of whom became our very dear friends, that we came to create a music library for licensing songs for TV and Film called Back Door Music library. This became my baby and I have had great success with it. "Hey, I know - if I can't write a hit song, I'll represent writers who can." So I became that detestable person that makes money off of other peoples talent. I currently devote a great deal of time on running it. It does feel good writing checks to other musicians and composers. Still, playing, singing and writing music remains my passion.
So I've made a name for myself as cannon fodder for the marquee names, a soldier ant, a "player", in the trenches doing anything and everything I have to to make ends meet. Laughing at everyone's jokes and knowing when to shut up. Taking one for the team, and another, and another...My motto...As long as it's music, it's OK by me. I've made a career out of performing for rich and famous people with rich and famous people. I just wasn't one of them. I was the wedding singer for The Wedding Singer - I played Adam Sandler's wedding, both of Brook Shields weddings, Tori Spelling's first wedding, Oprah Winfrey's 50th birthday party, and the list goes on and on. In hindsight, it's been a pretty good career. And the weather here ain't bad.
Well thats about it. That's my life in a nutshell, a career that's been no bombshell. I'm 50 now. I've had my 15 minutes of fame - you know, the kind of fame that Betty Davis' personal assistant had. Nevertheless, I've gotten to do pretty much a little bit of everything I set out to do. I have performed with and continue to perform with world class musicians and only world class musicians. Opened for Joe Cocker last year to sold out audiences in Germany, toured with the Mamas and Papas as a "Papa" (no bass, only singing). Played for 30,000 delirious Chinese in Bejing China, all with videocameras and lazer pointers. Made an obscene amount of money in one evening performing with David Foster with an all-star band - flew on his private jet to Chicago, played the gig and were back in time to watch Letterman. Sang with Allison Krauss on Leno. Watched the London Symphony Orchestra perform my song at George Martin's (The Beatles) studio in a converted cathedral in London. I'm happily married to an incredibly beautiful, sexy, soulful, kind, giving and talented woman. We've got two cats and no children living in a big-ass house on a hill with a view. I never had to get a "day job" and I make it a point to sleep in most days. I'm not rich and famous and you still can't find me on GOOGLE but I've never been arrested and never had a nervous breakdown. I'm healthy now, but if I die tomorrow, I'll die happy and content. I guess that makes me a pretty successful guy."
4/12/09 update: As of August '08 I am now also a Music Editor working on my second TV show (Pilot) - whew!! So now I not only walk the tight rope but ride it on a unicycle while juggling flaming torches...Is it time to retire yet?
Profile picture Bruce Atkinson Re: Is there anybody out there?

oxbowbrat wrote:

"For you SHS Class of '75-ers, in response to James Wyman's request and in the hopes of inspiring more of you to share your stories in more depth, I am posting this reprint of my rather lengthy bio from my MySpace page. Ironically the inspiration for"
OK James, John, Mimi - don't leave me hanging here. I expect you all to step up to the plate now - ooh was that a threat? Mimi? ...and the rest of you. Come on, we want to hear from you. What the heck has been going on all these years?
Profile picture John Hammell Re: Is there anybody out there?

oxbowbrat wrote:

"OK James, John, Mimi - don't leave me hanging here. I expect you all to step up to the plate now - ooh was that a threat? Mimi? ...and the rest of you. Come on, we want to hear from you. What the heck has been going on all these years?"
I was born in Overlook hospital in June, 1957 and lived on Canoe Brook Pkwy near Vanderpool pond til we graduated in 1975.

When I was 16, a tree fell on me in a tornado while I was camped for the night on a canoe trip in the Adirondacks and I had a 7 hour long operation and came to in a body cast in the intensive care ward of a hospital in Utica, NY, then was transferred down to Overlook.

I missed a good portion of our Junior year and had to be tutored at home while on crutches, and the accident impacted me in a lot of ways- especially nutritionally.

I was massively depleted of nutrients due to the stress of the situation, and this fed a bad genetic situation causing me to experience a host of debilitating psychiatric symptoms my last two years of high school.

I had no idea what was wrong, and it was very disconcerting. I suffered mostly from extreme depression, trouble concentrating, trouble sleeping, but also had perceptual distortions at times- and manic periods. All of this put a damper on my social life because I spent a lot of time isolating, feeling especially awkward not knowing what was wrong. I would wrack my brain trying to find some logical reason for what I was experiencing, but could find none.

I remember wanting to drop out of school, but hung in there and graduated. That summer I worked at Camp Wawayanda, a YMCA camp in the Catskills as a counselor, and at one point had a severe bout with insomnia and depression. I talked with the camp Director, unsure if I could finish out the summer. He let me wash dishes for a couple weeks, then I went back to being a counselor- but I was already starting to have serious doubts about how it would be for me at Washington College in Maryland which I was going to enter in September.

At Washington College, I ended up dropping out after only my first 3 weeks, suffering badly from suicidal depression, extreme insomnia and other symptoms.

I had no idea what was wrong, and felt like a failure as the Dean called my dad and he came and collected me, bringing me back to Summit.

I recall a party at Don Moriarty's house that winter when people had come back to Summit at which I got shit faced drunk, not wanting to talk about my life, and I recall stumbling out of his house and being followed all the way home by the police who didn't pull me over, but could have at any time as I crawled home at 3 mph. I realize in retrospect that they were truly looking out for me. They watched me stagger from the car and made sure I got up the front steps of the house before driving away.

My brother Steve found a book in the library about a guy named Fieve who was doing research on Lithium which had not yet been approved by the FDA at New York State Psychiatric Institute in NYC, and I became an outpatient in his research study. He put me on lithium and I returned to Washington College where I made it through 2 semesters with decent grades before falling apart again.

Lithium was not what I needed, and it only partially stabilized me.

When I dropped out this next time I became an in patient in Dr.Fieve's genetic research ward at New York State Psychiatric institute where i went through hell for 9 months after being promised that they'd have me patched up in 3.

I was told they'd find "just the right combination" of meds that would enable me to have my life back so I could return to school and function normally.

It was a form of hell. They injected us with radioactive isotopes in an effort to measure the sodium and potassium ions in our brain cells, and put us through a Body Count machine which is like a huge geiger counter.

Some people on my ward committed suicide. We'd go to sleep at night listening to the sound of the centrafuges spinning our blood in the lab across the hall.

We weren't treated as human beings, we were just numbers on a clip board, human lab rats, it was a very dehumanizing experience and they almost killed me.

After 9 months during which I deteriorated badly, they told my parents they could do nothing for me, that I needed a "long term" facility, so i was packed off to the Institute of Living in Hartford, CT.

There I went through abject hell, spending much of my time on a locked ward that was like being in prison. Many of the people on the ward had been remanded by the courts and would have been in the Forensic ward of the Connecticut State Prison if not for their parents having money and political pull.

We were all treated like prisoners, and I and one other guy had to march through the tunnels interconnecting the buildings at the end of the line under triple guard because they were the most afraid of us. We were always "acting out" and being put in seclusion rooms by the goons.

While I was on that locked ward I learned of a suppressed alternative treatment mode called Orthomolecular Medicine from my Aunt who it had helped. It had also helped a cousin.

I badly wanted to try this after reading some books. It made sense to me to bring about biochemical changes at the cellular level using safe non toxic substances that are indigenous to the human body as opposed to dangerous toxic psych meds with their horrible side effects which I hated.

My doctor arrogantly refused to let me try it though, and she screamed in my face at the top of her lungs "MEGAVITAMINS ARE BULLSHIT AND YOU'RE A DEAD MAN ON ACCOUNT OF YOUR ATTITUDE!!"

I didn't like being yelled at and got to my feet. I yelled back "Fuck you Bitch, if you're THAT MUCH against these vitamins I'm gonna get my HANDS on some, you're FIRED, you're NO LONGER my doctor, this session is OVER, I'm OUTA HERE!"

I stormed out of the room and straight into the waiting Goon squad led by a huge Jamaican guy who was big enough to be a defensive tackle on any pro football team. I wasn't just PUT in a seclusion room, I was AIRBORN going through the door.

I hit the rubber mat in the corner and he jumped on top of me and beat my head into the cinderblock wall til I was out cold, then shot me full of thorazine for good measure.

I ended up getting kicked out of the IOL for cold cocking an attendant who I punched in the face as hard as I could as he walked toward me in the corridor, and I was put into Fair Oaks in Summit.

That was fine with me because at least I was back in Jersey where Dr.Pfeiffer was (the doctor who'd helped my Aunt and cousin at the Princeton Brain Bio Center.

I badly wanted to see him, but Fair Oaks wouldn't let me. They attempted to tell me orthomolecular medicine was "unproven quackery" and showed me a very biased American Psychiatric Assn Report titled The APA Task Force Report on Megavitamin and Orthomolecular Therapy in Psychiatry.

I didn't trust it, and was RIGHT not to trust it because it turned out to be so biased that it couldn't even SEEM to be fair. The APA had selected a guy to run their Task Force who had a very well known public bias against orthomolecular therapy, and he hand picked the rest of his committee to insure that they thought the same way he did.

So all they did was "prove" their negative preconceived conclusions. They only examined negative studies, none of the positive ones. They didn't have anyone with any experience with orthomolecular medicine on their committee for the sake of debate within committee as had been done on other APA Task forces including one held that same year on electroshock treatment.

They never invited anyone with any experience with orthomolecular to speak to them for the sake of trying to learn anything or to get feedback on how they were conducting their inquiry.

They even had a social milieu theorist on their commitee, a guy named Mosher who once publicly stated that "even if every psychiatrist in America thought orthomolecular medicne worked, I would not believe it."

That made him "safe" to have on the committee since no amount of evidence could POSSIBLY convince him that orthomolecular medicine worked.

So I pleaded with mom and dad to help me go see Pfeiffer. Dad was dead set against it because some family friends who were MDs told him it was "unproven".

They wouldn't have said that if they'd seen Hoffer and Osmond's scholarly Reply to the APA Task Force Report, a Reply that included a strong statement of support for their work from Linus Pauling, the only person in history to win two completely unshared Nobel prizes.

Long story short, my mom helped me go see Pfeiffer, and I smuggled vitamins back into Fair Oaks, taking them secretly after hiding them in a mattress gouged out from the underside of my foam mattress while mouthing the toxic drugs they tried to force me to take which I spat down a toilet from then on.

In 3 weeks I was doing so much better they gave me a full medical discharge while scratching their heads, wondering which if their drugs were helping me, when it was NONE of them!

I'd been locked up for 4 years by then in a variety of state and private hospitals in 3 states, but I began my recovery by living with my brother Steve in Brooklyn, New York.

I got a job as a crewman aboard the Schooner Pioneer at South Street Seaport Museum where I also studied boatbuilding. That led to my moving to Maine where I was a boatbuilder and professional sailor for many years. I graduated from a two year trade school in Eastport Maine where I studied boatbuilding and yacht design and I worked in the Maine windjammer fleet aboard schooners, and in boatbuilding shops in different parts of the state.

I also got into doing yacht deliveries down to the Carribean. All of this was very healing. The sea makes you a King within yourself.

At one point I decided I wanted to give something back and I entered the field of Mental Health, and worked as a House Advisor/ Work Leader at Spring Lake Ranch in Vermont, a therapeutic work community for mentally ill adults.

I ended up getting fired a year later for giving an unauthorized lecture, complete with a slide show about orthomolecular medicine which the Ranch Doctor frowned on and regarded to be quackery.

That led to my current career as a health freedom lobbyist/ activist, work I've been doing now since the late 1980s. I lobby on Capital Hill, write articles, do public speaking, and basically have turned lemons into lemonade.

I own a home in Point Roberts, Washington, near Vancouver BC Canada, right on the border and love it here. I've met the woman of my dreams and we're going to be married soon. I go sailing all the time, and am active in a Masters Swim Club, age group competition swimming.

I've become a serious student of health and healthy living and have been learning a lot of cool things about how to slow, even reverse the aging process.

One thing I've been doing is bioidentical hormones. Read Suzanne Somers book "Ageless- the Naked Truth About Bioidentical Hormones" You can take bioidentical testosterone and put your T levels back to what they were when you were in your mid 20s and feel just as good!

I've been doing this now for several months and feel GREAT! My fiance is 37, I'll be 52 in June, but I sure don't feel 52! We plan on having kids.

If anyone would like to pick my brain on any of this, feel free to email me at

I'm leaving for a trip to Hawaii tomorrow, but will be back in a couple weeks. I'll be in email contact on the road, but am not sure how much time I'll have til I return.

You can see my websites at, and I have some others you can get to from those if you're interested. Image
Profile picture James Wyman Re: Is there anybody out there?
I think the fact that one cannot use paragraph breaks in this forum is a problem. We can post pictures, though! So here's a picture of a Himalayan cat in a tinfoil hat.
Profile picture Carol McLaughlin Re: Is there anybody out there?

oxbowbrat wrote:

"For you SHS Class of '75-ers, in response to James Wyman's request and in the hopes of inspiring more of you to share your stories in more depth, I am posting this reprint of my rather lengthy bio from my MySpace page. Ironically the inspiration for"
Wow, thats a pretty amazing story!! I love all of that music. Keep up the good work
Profile picture Re: Is there anybody out there?

jaswyman wrote:

"I think the fact that one cannot use paragraph breaks in this forum is a problem. We can post pictures, though! So here's a picture of a Himalayan cat in a tinfoil hat. "
Not exactly what I had in mind but it will have to do. Is that your cat? Here is a picture of my cat. Image