Monday’s Theme Music

Music about traveling always speaks to me. Between my father’s military career and mine, I moved forty-four times by the time I was forty. Besides moving, I traveled in the military, and then more while in marketing with Silicon Valley startups.

That’s the background. In the foreground, Eddie Rabbit’s song, “Driving My Life Away”, started streaming through me last night. I really enjoy the lyrics:

Well the midnight headlights blind you on a rainy night
Steep grade up ahead slow me down makin no time
Gotta keep rollin
Those windshield wipers slappin out a tempo
Keepin perfect rhythm with the song on the radio
Gotta keep rolling

Ooh I’m driving my life away, looking for a better way, for me
Ooh I’m driving my life away, looking for a sunny day

Well the truck stop cutie comin’ on to me
Tried to talk me into a ride said I wouldn’t be sorry
Oh, but she was just a baby
Well waitress pour me another cup of coffee
Pop me down jack me up shoot me out flyin down the highway
Lookin for the morning

h/t to

That song, along with his song, “I Love A Rainy Night,” became part of my travel and streaming staples. He was another amazing talent, gone way too damn soon.


Catalect (catfinition) – feline dialect. Cats develop unique catalects to communicate with the cats and people closest to them. These catalects often vary from house to house. Some evidence suggest that broader catalects exist by breed.

In use: “Mrrp in our household catalect is a greeting similar to “hello” that the felines in our household use to greet their humans.”


Went out to cut the grass. It started raining. I hustled my equipment into the garage and went into the house. Looking out, I saw the rain stop. The clouds parted and let blazing sunlight through. Went back out to cut the grass. The skies darkened. Drops began falling.

Refusing to be deterred by the weather, I went back into the house, opened a bottle of wine, and poured a glass. Then I went out onto the covered porch and watched the rain-shine show.

See, I wasn’t deterred. I adjusted. When life gives you lemons, open a bottle of wine.


Pourpet (catfinition) – a floof-word that seems to translate to mean, “For me?”

In Use: “He put a bowl of food down in front of the long-haired tabby. Looking at it, the cat said, “Pourpet?” Then the feline moved in with his tail up and began eating.”


Floofdolent (catfinition) – a fragrance that gives away the presence of a cat.

In use: “The lovely home was floofdolent with the essence of well-used kitty litter and aging cat food. No cats were in evidence, but a place so floofdolent had to be home to several clowders.”

Beat Up, Shut Up

I traveled one of those mornings where I felt like I was walking the valley of the despised. Well known self-descriptions about being inadequate and passive, smart enough to know I’m not too smart, talented enough to appreciate that I lack real talent, bright enough to recognize I’m really not that bright, rushed through me with the power of a swollen spring river. Following that period, some self-flagellation was indulged: it’s all a show of mute head-noddings and quick smiles to show I’m in on it, too, when it all flashes past with a hurrying hummingbird’s speed.

That done, I shower and engage in a transformation. Looking in the mirror, I see no changes, but I feel them inside. I know what I went through, just a ninety minute tour of the personal hell I sometimes send myself to (tell me, do you have one, too?), but emerged, almost alright, close enough to that mark to get it done, at least. Then I scrambled to go on with anything and everything, just to ensure I was going on.

Time to write like fucking crazy, at least one more time.

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