Twisted Floof

Twisted Floof (floofinition) – American hard floof rock (flock band) originally from Floof Jersey, but more recently citing Floof Island as home.

In use: “Twisted Floof’s songs, “We Are Gonna Take It” and “I Wanna Run”, have long been recognized as rebellious anthems appealing to adolfloofents.”

Memorial Day

With 97,000 plus deaths attributed to COVID-19 in the United States in 2020 and states starting to re-open, I believe we’ll probably start seeing a new meme about ‘Memorial Day’ as we’ll certainly cross 100,000 deaths before Memorial Day.

Which prompts me to recall Trump’s February 26 comment. “You have 15 people, and the 15 within a couple of days is going to be down to close to zero.”

Today, three months later, we’re at 1,637,593 cases in the United States, which is a long way from zero.

Doing the Math

We’re celebrating thirty years of Microsoft Solitaire.

The news surprised me. Thirty years? That’s all? Why, I’ve been playing that game for half my life. Let’s see…it was introduced in 1990..when I was thirty-four, and I’m sixty-three now, so…huh.

Yeah. Almost half my life.

Friday’s Theme Music

Masked up and went walking yesterday. Of the ten pedestrians I encountered, one was masked. So, about eighteen percent are masked when out and about, contrary to guidance.

Our little town has a reported ten COVID-19 cases. That’s an unofficial count. The county has had fifty-two cases. Social distancing and sheltering-in-place has been practiced, but most only wear masks when in stores, because the stores demand it. So, I suspect our low count is due to our rural nature, limitations on travel, and luck. I hope it all holds.

While out exercising my legs, I realized I was humming a song and identified it as the Rush song, “Freewill” (1980). I have one friend who was a devoted Rush fan and another who can’t stand Rush because they don’t like Geddy Lee’s voice. The Rush lyrics rushed in with these memories (sorry for the pun).

A planet of playthings
We dance on the strings
Of powers we cannot perceive

The stars aren’t aligned
Or the gods are maligned
Blame is better to give than receive

[Hook]
You can choose a ready guide in some celestial voice
If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice
You can choose from phantom fears and kindness that can kill
I will choose a path that’s clear, I will choose freewill

h/t to Genius.com

These lyrics are taken in different ways by different people. (Well, words, right? That’s how it goes with words.) I’ve always thought that the song referred to thinking for yourself. I like to believe I think for myself. I wear a mask because that’s recommended; studies show it helps reduce viral transmission.

Maybe I am sheeple, as non-mask fans charge. Perhaps my twenty plus years in the military conditioned me to obey orders without question. Don’t think so, myself; I was known for challenging orders.

Then again, we select and frame the information and memories that best suit what we want to know as the facts, don’t we? We’re each in our own bubble. We try to control what comes in and goes out but there’s quite a bit beyond our control.

Nebulous? No, complicated. One thing that I’ve discovered as I’ve aged is that I’m not the person who I think I am. My window into myself is as limited as my windows into others. My body is often doing things that I don’t know, responding to chemicals in ways that science knew but I didn’t, and my brain often reacts before I think. We depend on surface impressions and isolated moments to inform our decisions. Some of them are magnified in importance – in our heads – rising on waves of emotions and intellect.

Such complicated beasts we are in a complicated world. Which takes me back to “Freewill” and Rush. You make a choice. Sometimes it seems to work, other times, it seems to flop, but a lot of times, we’re forever waiting to learn the results.

Dream Snippets

So many diverse dream elements last night. Here’s two of five. It’s too exhausting and time-consuming to recount more. These left the greatest impression. First, the game show.

A flood had wrecked a place. I felt it could be salvaged. Seeing how it could be done, I convinced the network to give me a chance to execute.

Things immediately started going wrong but I kept persevering. I ended up with two basketball hoops at one end. Two young women were assisting. I had a nerf basketball. Then I started attempting explaining what was supposed to happen. As that’s going on, it was announced time’s up. You’re going live.

I wasn’t supposed to be on the air, but there I was, throwing the nerf ball and falling miserably to make a basket. I kept throwing the ball to the hoop; it fell well short. I then decided to bank it off the backboard. That fell well short.

“It can’t be done,” I said. “We need a different ball.”

One assistant replied, “We’ve been doing it with this ball.” Another man stepped up, threw the ball and made a basket.

Everyone was laughing at me. Embarrassment and frustration flooded me. The network said, “Hey, people are watching you. They’re enjoying this. You have a hit.”

The next segment took me into the kitchen. My wife and I were cooking. She put a pot on the stove and turned on the fire. The pot immediately boiled over. Calling my wife, I removed the pot from the stove and turned off the flame. The yellow flame didn’t go off, but spread, going over other food and dishes on the counter, horrifying me. Then the flame went out.

My wife came in. I told her what’d happened but she made a comment, took the pot, announced, “That’s done,” and left, telling me to turn something else on.

I reached for the stove. Yellow flames sprang up and spread. I withdrew my hand. The flames went out. Nothing was burning; it was just flames.

Outside now, in a new section, my wife, friends, and others were talking. My wife had won something and had a large clear bag of stuff. “I don’t know what’s in it,” she said. I suggest we open it and separate it.

We found car parts. Toilet cistern repair kits (which looked nothing like it should, but I knew what it was). I was suspicious, thinking that several piles had been mixed together, but didn’t voice that. My wife took what she wanted and tossed the rest.

A friend came by, complaining that another friend had lost some things and telling me where the other friend said he’d left them. As he went off, I called after him, “Was it car parts and toilet parts?”

The other friend kept walking away. The dream ended.

 

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