By Virginia Fu and Christian Zhang
New Yorkers have long had the privilege to happen upon chance encounters with greatness: Alec Baldwin on a rainy day in Union Square, Jay-Z on the train to a show, Bill Murray crashing a party in Bushwick, and so on. But Morningside Heights is home to a better, furrier kind of greatness. Without further ado, The Blue and White presents the best and brightest cats of the neighborhood.
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ROBOCOP
Robocop used to live in a box, in a shelter. From these humble beginnings, he has since launched a successful career as an installation artist, working mostly in string and bile. In Robocop’s mature work one can detect the influence of his early Maoist sympathies, his fascination with the instability of surfaces, and the ravages of a small but serious catnip habit. During our interview, Robocop was thoughtful and subdued, seemingly unaffected by the circumstances that led him to live at an unlisted address (Robocop requested that we not disclose his location). He moved restlessly around the room, exhibiting his impressive physique as he leapt from desktop to bed. Robocop maintains a rigorous daily exercise regimen.
NUSSBAUM LAUNDRY ROOM CATS
It’s not easy to live in the Nussbaum basement; the elevator to the basement is slow, the ghost that haunts it speaks only in an obscure dialect of Wu, and one sees the Nussbaum residents at their worst: days unshaven, in their laundry day orange shorts, wrestling with burdens of soiled raiment. Yet the mazelike space offers a plentiful diet of mice and cockroaches. Through the daily exorcisms and the Friskies Turkey and Cheese in Gravy-flavored tuna dinners kindly provided by Facilities, this tightknit clan of eight have become inseparable. Sources close to the family report that more kittens are expected. The group agrees that “the important thing is that we have each other.”
OLIVE TREE DELI CAT
Recently retired to Upstate New York.
CONVENIENCE STORE ON 107TH AND AMSTERDAM
“Are there cats here?”
“No.”
PANCHO II
Pancho II was not taking our calls this winter. He was taking his customary siesta in the basement of Samad’s. “Talk to his agent,” we were told.