McTAVISH BLOG NO. 6: HOW I BECAME A MUSICAL GENIUS

[Editor’s note: many people (3 or less) have wondered how McTavish came to be a concert violinist.  We asked him to explain … ]

Greetings! First off … I’m naturally gifted.  But you already know that.  You’ve seen many examples of my great skills in all sorts of things.  Like … erm … like … sarcasm?  Napping?  Eating?  Committing credit card fraud while doing all of the above? 

RCMP: Rat Cat and Mouse Patrol

But you’re already drifting off topic.  So let’s go back to the very beginning.  I was born into an RCMP family: the Rat, Cat and Mouse Patrol.  The organization was totally useless, so it was disbanded.  Mom lost her job and fell into hopeless catnip addiction.  A familiar story.

How does this relate to music?  You see, I was adopted by a roving fiddle player.  Alas, there was little demand for roving fiddle players so he fell into a hopeless addiction to robbing gas stations.  He was arrested by the RCMP.  The real ones, with the red jackets and amusing hats and really big stupid pants.

I inherited the fiddler’s fiddle and took it with me when the cops gave me to the SPCA, where I spent my formative years amongst a colourful group of unwanted cats.  Sadly, we were forced to go out and get jobs.  Yuck. What a waste of time. Anyway …

My first position was shining shoes for the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra.  I absorbed lots of musical knowledge until they fired me for selling all their shoes on Ebay.  The unimaginative fools passed up the perfect chance to perform the highly under-rated Shoebert’s Shoeless Symphony.

Who put this piano here?

The SPCA then sent me to Marvin’s Mainly Music, where I got to polish the violins and cellos and trumpets.  And tubas.  Perfect for curling up inside for a little nap.  Until some foolish composer named Andy Webber picked it up and gave it a loud toot, thereby propelling me across the store and into a base fiddle, where I got tangled in the strings.  The subsequent dislodgement sproinged me right across the room.  And straight through a grand piano worth a few hundred grand.  (Hey!  Is that why it’s called a grand piano?)  Marvin didn’t see the funny side …

So I should mention … since it’s the whole reason for this blog … that I practiced on the violin every day before Marvin unfairly fired me.  I’d worked my way up to being … not very good.  But I ‘borrowed’ a violin and kept practicing.

After the SPCA failed to flush me down the toilet for the third time, they made me busk on a corner near Newkirk College.  Some guy with a big nose and stupid kilt was playing the bagpipes on my corner so I beat him up.  Or tried to.  He was more vicious than he looked.  Anyway, the street is where I got really good.  At playing the violin and cadging donuts to survive.

Robin and McTavish: 1st meeting

After the Newkirk cops sent me back to the SPCA, they sighed and said: “Oh, McTavish.  What shall we do with you?  You have no skills and no aptitude for anything but lying around.  Which … hey!  That makes you the perfect library cat.  There’s an opening at Newkirk College!  They have a new librarian.  You guys have a lot in common.  He likes music, too.  Plays the bagpipes.”

Oh, crap.  Well.  Yeah.  You guessed it.  My first “official” meeting with Robin resulted in another short rumble.  But we came to terms, since he realized that he had to keep me based on centuries-old Arcane Library Cat Legislation.  I even got to move into his townhouse!  Win win except for Robin.

So, none of this really explains how I got to play for the Seattle Symphony Orchestra.  Let’s just say that I practiced a lot and … they’re not too bright.  Plus they were desperately needy for a seventh violinist NOW.  And you’ll never guess what they were performing …  

CLAN MUNRO COMIC STRIP NO. 77: THE McTAVISH SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA

77. The McTavish Symphony Orchestra

Yes, McTavish is still on the lam. He’s had a variety of unsuccessful jobs. Stand up comic. Short order cook. And all the disasters he wrote about in his latest blog post, which you can see here!

Most of all, though … McTavish plays the violin? Well enough to get a gig with the Seattle Symphony Orchestra? Who knew? We’re just as surprised as you are!

He is about to enlighten us, you’ll be thrilled to know, in a new blog, which he will be posting soon(ish).

CLAN MUNRO COMIC STRIP NO. 69: McTAVISH WHO?

69. McTavish Who?

Yep. McTavish is still on the road. Though it appears that he has been adequately replaced …

CLAN MUNRO COMIC STRIP NO. 68: KOMEDY KLUB PART 2

68. Komedy Klub Part 2

All righty! We’re not sure whether McTavish managed to get a stripping gig. If he did, which we doubt, I suspect that it didn’t last very long. But …

… we do know that he managed to acquire another show biz job. Come back next time to find out what it is!

CLAN MUNRO COMIC STRIP NO. 67: KOMEDY KLUB PART 1

67. Komedy Klub

McTavish is still on the lam. As he told you in his latest blog, called “right next door to must read” by at least one influential magazine, he was planning on going into show biz. Let’s see how it goes …

You can catch up with all Clan Munro adventures at the following two locations: Part One and Part Two!

CLAN MUNRO: McTAVISH BLOG NO. 5: on the lam

On the lamb

NOT THAT KIND OF LAMB!

Sheesh. Hilarious.

Can we get some new writers and cartoonists for this strip? Please? These amateurs are making me look bad.

Anyway … let’s ignore this image and move on to the actual blog, starting below …

Okay.  This is my first blog in a while.  Been hard to find the time because I’ve been on the lam.  Always looking over my slim shoulder for Roger the Ex-Con Swan.  He almost caught me south of REDACTED.  Barely had time to escape.  Even had to ditch my portable kitty litter box and use the Great Outdoors.  Ick.  Can’t do my business with bugs watching me.

My fake passports and stolen credit cards were in a secret compartment under the litter box, so I lost them too.  Which meant that I had to get a … gag … job.  Work.  Me.  Didn’t start off too badly.  The employment agency in REDACTED sent me to Millie’s Diner, where the clientele showed their appreciation for my innovative dishes by going after me with torches and pitchforks.  So did Millie.  Fired.

So I snuck back north to REDACTED and took a logging job on a remote mountainside overlooking an even more remote lake.  Free bacon and eggs.  Free flapjacks.  Life was good until the boss handed me a chainsaw and said, “Chop, chop!” So I did.

Good vibes

On my third day I dropped a small(ish) tree on the boss.  He no longer has a neck.  Which is fine because he was too tall anyway. 

It was hilarious, but he couldn’t see the funny side.  Fired again. 

The work was too dang hard for a cat, so I opted for something easier.

A modeling job was just the ticket.  Lollygagging around having your picture taken.  Right up my particular alley.  I rejected Victoria’s Secret after they laughed at me and tossed me out, so I went down the street to Velma’s Secret.  They have much more adventurous standards for their models.  My test photos were brilliant and I looked gorgeous:

Too horrible to look at!!

In fact, I looked so gorgeous that the photographer and art director shrieked and passed out.  And stayed that way.  I finally got tired of waiting for them to start breathing again and left with their wallets.  They had just enough cash to set me up for my next job.

Enough of working for other people and getting fired and yelled at.  Time to work for myself!  Be my own boss.  Keep all the profits.  Since I was still in the lovely yet heavily mountainous province of REDACTED, I knew what I had to do.  I bought my kit and went down to the river and started panning for …

… rocks.  Weeds.  Fish.  An 1876 copy of ‘How to Pan for Gold’.  Everything but your actual gold.  The hip-waders were stylish, though.  Until they filled to the brim with freezing cold glacier water.  So, yeah, I admit that they weren’t the best place to stash my Pringles.  Besides, I’d now had too much of the Great Outdoors.  Time for an office job. 

I hitched a ride into the nearest town, whose name I won’t mention because I’ll just have to REDACT it, and found a help-wanted sign outside the local veterinary hospital.  They were dubious about my qualifications, but I pointed out that I know all about animals because I AM an animal.  They were impressed and hired me on the spot.  (The begging and crying helped, too.)

Which end would you prefer?

My first assignment: the Doc handed me a large thermometer, shoved me into an office with a giant Rottweiler, and said, “You know what to do, little dude.” 

What happened next will be discussed in veterinary textbooks forever.

And that’s all I’m going to say about that job.  Though it did have one benefit.  I got to spend a week in a very comfortable hospital bed.  With free (bad) food.

But I eventually recovered and was tossed back onto the road.  Never settled.  Never safe.  With no one to clip my claws.  So, what to do next?  There was only one answer to that question:  Show Biz!  I’m off to the bright lights of REDACTED!  Stay tuned …

Clan Munro comic strip no. 59: Short order chaos 2

59. SHORT ORDER CHAOS 2

Hmm. Looks like maybe McTavish is not cut out to be a short order cook.  But his next job, well … you’ll have to come back and find out …

Clan Munro comic strip no. 58: Short order chaos 1

58. SHORT ORDER CHAOS 1

McTavish is back, with a splash of colour! As you recall, he was relentlessly pursued by Roger the Bad Swan, and decided to go On The Lam. And he actually managed to find a job. Which is going about as well as you’d think …

Catch up with all Clan Munro strips: Part the First and Part the Second.