Someone’s overheard comment (complaint) about their daily-weekly-monthly routines about doing the same thing and wondering where have all the good times gone brought home today’s theme music.
I’ve selected “Where Have All The Good Times Gone” for today, and went with the Van Halen cover (1982). A friend of mine who was a big VH fan liked this song but thought it was a little simple. I told him that I thought it was better than the Kinks’ version, which was the original, from somewhere in the mid-sixties. (Turned out to be from 1965.) He wasn’t aware that it was a cover, thinking that it was a VH original, but decided, that’s why it was such a simple song.
On reflection, each version represents how pop rock sounded at the time of their release.
Floofberry(floofinition)(slang)1. A piece of animal feces found on the floor in the house or dangling from a pet’s rear end. 2. Any type of drupe or berry contaminated by animal fur. 3. Sometimes used in jest to describe any food item covered in animal fur.
In use: “The child dropped his chocolate bonbon onto the carpet. The dogs and cat lunged for it but the mother used her mom-speed to beat them to it. Picking the chocolate up, she confirmed that it was an inedible floofberry now and tossed it into the trash.”
Yesterday, someone said, “I waste too much time. Every night, I think of the things that I wanted to do that I didn’t do, and think of the time that I wasted.”
I didn’t agree or disagree. I understand what’s he saying. When he said he was wasting time, he meant that he’d planned to accomplish things that day and didn’t. He did other things instead. In answer to my question about that, he said, “Read, watched the news, read more, ate and drank beer.” He laughed.
Was it really wasted time? No, just not time used as planned. But people get the sense they’re running out of time. They’re coming up on deadlines, end of life, a new week, month, or season.
I’ve drifted away from that. Part of my drift is because so much of what’s on our lists are impermanent matters given amplified importance. You got to sort through these things and decide what’s really important, and what’s just being driven by the ghosts of the past called tradition, or the demons of expectations.
Meanwhile, the conversation naturally kicked a song into the stream. Several, in fact. One that surprised me leaped in from 1972 and an album called Eat A Peach, when I was sixteen. That Allman Brothers album, released after Duane Allman’s death, had a lock in my playlist for over a year, joining another Allman Brothers favorite, At Fillmore East, a double live album.
The song that jumped out was, “Ain’t Wastin’ Time No More”. It really came, again, as I stepped out and called in a cat last night. I looked up for the stars. The cat was right there, but clouds obscured the stars. From there came the song’s lines,
Lord, lord Miss Sally, why all your cryin’?
Been around here three long days, you’re lookin’ like you’re dyin’.
Just step yourself outside, and look up at the stars above
Go on downtown baby, find somebody to love.
Sumo Floof(floofinition) – A large animal (for its species and kind) that enjoys wrestling.
In use: “Sir Bob, the Maine Coon, was a natural sumo floof, taking on the dogs, humans, and other cats with gusto, but never letting it get violent or bloody.”
I went out to call in a cat last night and found a surprisingly clear night, full of stars. Quiet, the air felt mildly warm. I breathed it all in and scanned the stars. That brought the Foo Fighters’ 2003 song, “Times Like These” into my stream as the cat popped up over the fence, leaped down and ran across the yard to me.
I’m a new day rising
I’m a brand new sky
To hang the stars upon tonight
Ballyfloof(floofinition) – A pet or animal’s extravagant publicity or fuss.
In use: “With the cat’s ballyfloof when he came in setting up everyone’s expectations for something amazing, the gift that he delivered turned out to be a red maple leaf.”
Michael Seidel, writer 