Blackie the Cat, Pat McGeehan voices the sly feline who harbors a stubborn Grudge against people and a weary view of city life. He laments how the crowded streets, constant bustle, and everyday chaos twist his routines, making it hard to seize a meal or deliver a proper serenade. He chafes at being kept indoors and at the social friction that comes with living among humans, babies, children, housewives, and dog owners. In this world, every step on the sidewalk feels like a minor battle, and Blackie dreams of a freer life beyond the noise and interruption.
As he trudges along a busy urban sidewalk, the creatures and commuters seem to slip past him or push him aside, and at one point a passerby even gives him a kick. He rails against his fate and, in a moment of whimsy, declares his desire to go to the Moon. Fate intervenes when he stumbles upon the Moonbeam Rocket Company, a place that promises a shortcut to his celestial dream. The rocket beckons with visions of Mars, Venus, a miniature Palm Springs launch, and a “Moon Special” that seems to offer him the quickest route to escape the grind of the city.
Pat McGeehan isn’t the only voice behind Blackie’s adventures; the animation’s energy is further sharpened by Pinto Colvig, whose vocal performance gives the cat’s mischievous, jittery humor its sharp edge as the journey unfolds. Blackie ignites the rocket and lifts off in a dizzying, surreal ride where buildings and stars duck to avoid him, and planet signs flash quirky messages such as “NO VACANCY.” The sky itself plays along, the rocket skywrites “Eat at Joe’s,” and even the Big Dipper gets a playful punch while the Little Dipper tries to catch the leaking path. The ride is a bright, arcade-like shuffle through space, with the ship bouncing from star to star, scoring points with each hop until a dramatic “TILT” signals a lunar impact.
After the crash, Blackie savors a rare moment of solitude, only to discover the Moon is inhabited by a troupe of surreal Lunarian beings. The experience contrasts starkly with his earthly life, and the sense that his familiar home—no matter how hard it is at times—might be preferable to this alien, dreamlike exile grows clearer. Craving a way back, he pulls down a backdrop of a golf course, positions himself on a tee, and, with a single, comic swing of a club, blasts himself back toward Earth. He lands once again on the same sidewalk in the good ol’ U.S.A., where the hustle and bustle resume, and he ends with a renewed appreciation for his home and the ordinary people who continue to walk all over him—yet who, in some strange way, keep life from feeling utterly unliveable.
