Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Floofview (floofinition) – a housepet’s range or limit of authority, competence, responsibility, concern, or intention.
In use: “When it comes to floofview, few animals have taken it to Beth’s level. The large German Shepherd believed everything was within her floofview, especially new puppies and kittens who need care and help.”
I sat down on the toilet to do my morning thing. Instantly one of the three household cats graced me with his attention. One always does. Should I get in there and close the door before one arrives, a pitiful protest begins outside the door.
Boo wound himself back and forth against my legs while purring, meowing, and tossing glances at me. I said, “Will I never be allowed to do my business at home without one of you helping me? It’s irritating sometimes, you know. How would you like it if I petted you while you were in the litter box doing your business?”
I swear that his purr when up twenty decibels.
My stream hauled this one out of 1973’s memory bins.
My friends weren’t familiar with Montrose’s work. Their music struck me as raw and elemental. I often sang them aloud to entertain myself as I went about being a student. Most people reacted, “What are you singing?” This was the question no matter what Montrose song was being sung. Could be that it was my singing.
One day, while singing “Rock Candy”, a grinning Scott said, “Is that Montrose?”
“Yes, it is Montrose, “Rock Candy”,” I confirmed.
“You like Montrose?” he asked.
“No, I’m singing it to be perverse,” I said, adding, “stupid fucking question.”
Scott was a new student. Part of a wealthy family, he’d been kicked out of several private schools and had convinced his parents to let him go to a public high school. We shared several AP classes and were on the sports teams together. He was friendly but a little distant, with an interesting sense of humor. He and I were suddenly great friends because of Montrose. Scott sought me out about other groups, and then expanded our relationships to books we were reading.
His big ambition was to crew a ship and see the world. I joined the military and did the same. I haven’t seen him since we graduated in 1974.
I still sing “Rock Candy” when I’m out walking. I mean, come on:
But you’re rock candy, baby
You’re hard, sweet, and sticky, yes
You’re rock candy, baby
Hard, sweet, and sticky, oh, yes
h/t to Songlyrics.com
Oh, yes.
“What are your goals today?”
It was the female without an accent asking. Accents and the apparent sexes their voices displayed were the only way of identifying the daily taskmasters. Identifying was a weak expression, as they remained nameless and without form.
He scratched and swallowed. He needed to get up and drink water but also pee. Was that ironic? No, coincident.
Goals. “I want to get up and pee.” That would get him no points but they didn’t remonstrate him. Still, sharp past responses made him moderate his approach.
“Write, of course,” he said.
“You always do that,” she said.
Did he imagine that she sighed? “Still counts,” he said.
Silence answered. They weren’t pleased.
He said, “Wash, vacuum, and gas the cars.”
A male overseer said, “Good,” with boredom as thick as flies on shit.
“Yard work.”
“Hmmm.”
“Finish reading a book.”
“Oh.” The female. “What book?”
“Donna Leon, The Waters of Eternal Youth”.
“Very good.” Happiness seemed to shower him. “That’s a good goal. Good luck.”
He was released. Opening his eyes, he sat up. Of all that he’d said, what would most count was reading the book. That was his number one priority. He was hungry and needed enough points to get a decent meal. He sensed that if he failed to read the book, they’d punish him.
Draining his bladder in the water closet, he snorted and chortled. His mind was a strange overseer.
I was streaming several songs this morning, including “Timothy Leary” by the Moody Blues, but looking out the window at the emerging spring day and the hopes for more pleasant weather, I selected another oldie for today’s theme.
Here’s Friends of Distinction with “Grazing In The Grass” (1969). As Harry Elston sings, “What a trip just watching as the world goes past.” Perfect for a mellow-ish Sunday.
Floofzing (floofinition) – napping in a semi-somnolent state, with senses alert for intrusions, threats, or someone eating something.
In use: “The floofzing cats’ ears turned when he drew a bag of granola from the cupboard, tuning into the sound as they napped and waiting to see what developed.”
My wife and I were traveling in a car. I had a sense that we were changing locations, moving to somewhere new, an exciting prospect.
Along the way, we stopped in a town. It was pre-arranged for us to meet with a local musical band. My wife and I were to sing with them that evening. We sat with the musicians and coordinated the set list and discussed when we would arrive and what else was required for our performance. Part of the latter entailed doing more work, including find the song lyrics to several songs.
After that, we had time to kill, so we first went around the town a bit, just being tourists, and then got something to eat. Our big black and white cat, Tucker, was traveling with us, except that he was a furry, fist-sized black and white spider in the dream. He was in a cage but got out. The car door was open. I saw him leaving the car, but I wasn’t positive. Either way, I searched for him, but didn’t find him, and ran out of time.
Our appointment for meeting the group to prepare to perform had arrived. We met with the group at the convention center where we were to perform. Meeting with the band, I stepped back and let others lead. After a few minutes, it seemed to me that they were off track. Everything that’d been discussed was changed. I reminded them of our earlier conversation but they were confused, and seemed unable to remember anything that I said.
That’s where the dream ended.
Michael Seidel, writer 