Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Floofciturn (floofinition) – housepets who are reserved and do little to communicate with others.
In use: “He said to his cat, “What’s the matter? Are you hungry? Do you want to go outside?” The floofciturn feline remained sitting where he was, watching the man like the cat had no idea who he was or what he was saying.”
I can’t trace the roots of why I’m streaming this song today. Didn’t have the record, or any of this group’s albums. I knew the song came out sometime in the mid to late 1970s, but had to look it up to find it.
The airways often shaped the musical landscape then, with television giving musical groups and their hits a step up via Soul Train, American Bandstand, and a few other shows like that. FM stereo was growing in popularity, with multiple stations dedicated to rock, soul, R&B, and country genres going on air. Once songs began getting air time, they would move up the charts, gain more air time. Suddenly they were in your ears.
Nothing wrong with that, of course. When I first started driving in 1974, our area had three FM stations. You’d punch the buttons and move around between them. I don’t punch buttons now, but gently tap them to move ‘tween stations, or use my thumb on a rocker button my steering wheel to advance to the next setting. I have five FM stations that I prefer in my area, but I also play satellite FM. The satellite capability offers about a zillion stations, but I listen to eight primary music stations when I’m drivin’ ’round town.
This song, “Baby Come Back” (1977) by Player, came to me by radio saturation. The song reminds me of Hall & Oates. I was stationed in the Philippines when it was released. We only had one station, the Armed Forces Network Philippines (AFN-P). It’s an okay song, doesn’t stir me in any particular direction, but it’s part of my memoryscape.
I’m in such an editing and writing zone, enjoying reading what I’ve written, surprised by the characters and settings. I wrote this? Are you sure? Because I don’t remember it. Yet the notes tell me that I wrote it last June. Ah, where is my mind?
Now I need to stop. Plans were made and time has flitted past with a hummingbird’s speed. I’ve been busy for hours, and sad about stopping. That’s how it sometimes goes, but I take satisfaction in that it was a good day of writing and editing like crazy.
Cheers
Floofjection (floofinition) – a housepet’s dismissal or refusal of an offering or action.
In use: “The cat had a habit of floofjection whenever people attempted to stroke her silky black fur, raising a paw and gazing at them with an expression in her enormous green eyes that said, “No. Look, but don’t touch.””
With an icy wind slicing up my cheeks, I thought about living by the ocean. The ocean is always warm in my mind, even though I have experience with being at the ocean and running from arctic blasts. I guess it’s my reality that it’s not cold when you’re living by the ocean. Naw, just looking for a change from the mountains around me where icy wintry fingers are slowly clenching around it, and thought, beach! Sun! Warmth!
Which prompted the stream to deliver Everclear. You know, “We can live beside the ocean.” Except then, it being Everclear, “Santa Monica” (1995) becomes a bit dark with sparks of hope and longing for havens where we live unencumbered by all the shit wrapping its tentacles around us.
Don’t you hate it when you say that you’re going to do something at nine thirty and discover it’s already nine thirty-two? Almost as bad as picking up your coffee cup and finding it empty.
Yeah.
It was the fourth series of the show. I’d watched and enjoyed two episodes. Character driven but with a strong plot, the pacing was fast, with powerful acting. Then I watched the third episode…
As George T. would say, “Oh myyyy…”
I had to know what happened next. The plotting became diabolical, with more twists and cutbacks than a lonely mountain road. The characters’ complexities increased, the acting stayed sharp and the pacing intensified. WTH, I thought as Monday slipped into Tuesday, I’ll watch one more. Then I watched another, and then, well, only one remained.
So it was that I’d binge-watched the final four episodes. And it was fucking brilliant and clever, what I look for in my entertainment. No wonder it’s been consistently nominated for awards, and often wins. Love that series, but they’re so far apart. Just like they do to me with Game of Thrones, Stranger Things, and several other series I enjoy.
Sure, I didn’t get to bed until two thirty on Tuesday morning, but I have no regrets, and lots of coffee.
Floofgrate (floofinition) – a housepet’s habit of changing their sleeping location(s).
In use: “During the winter, the cats and dogs floofgrated from window to window, following the sun’s path.”
Michael Seidel, writer 