First, my wife and I were wrestling in bed, and then playing with a kitten. Yeah, that’s all there was.
Next, I’m at work. It’s clear that I’ve returned to work. Although it’s not anywhere recognizable, many people were welcoming me back, and my assigned work space was one I’d previously used. My old passcode also worked: 3871. Well, great, cool!
I was also given a new location to work. I went over and checked it out. As I was, a man came by. I recognized him as a great writer. He stopped to look at what was on my screen. Then he moved on without saying a word.
His presence excited me. I returned to my original work station, grabbed that computer and brought it to my new location. The great writer was still ambling about, looking at everyone’s screen. I put my latest up, then stood back, hoping he’d come by and give me some encouragement.
I laughed after I awoke and thought about; just hanging around, waiting for the great writer to come by.
Argued with my muse earlier this week. She told me, “Write this.” I replied, “But why? This is going in an unexpected direction.” Her response: “Just write it.” It was the disdainful tone she employed that precipitated the argument. I was all, “I’m the writer here. I’m in charge.” She loosed mocking laughter in answer. Eventually, she told me that I was obsessing over the novel’s concept to the detriment of the plot, story, and characters. Ouch. Harsh words.
This kind of novel-writing confusion often happens to me. Wait, what am I doing? Where am I going? What’s supposed to happen? I’m a pantser, not an outliner. I generally want to know where the story goes and leave the details to my muse (or muses) to fill in for me. I’m a person prone to overanalyzing matters, though, why often helps me confuse myself. Sitting down and doing a session to address where I’ve gone awry generally puts me right. I often indulge in several of these sessions while writing a novel’s first draft.
We were doing the laundry the other day. The dark load finished washing. I transferred it to the dryer. My wife loaded the washer with a load of whites. The dryer finished with the darks. I pulled them out, then put the whites in and went off and folded the darks. My wife was busy reading, so when the whites finished, I pulled them out and started folding them. As I did, I thought, what does she do to these socks? They’re not very clean. My wife, looking up from her reading, said, “Did you do the whites?” Her question confused me. “No, you did. I just put them in the dryer.” “Um, were they wet?” I thought back: actually, no. Sheepishly, chased by her laughter, I put the whites back into the washer. This happened two days ago; she’s still teasing me about it and laughing.
Cancer strikes again. Another friend in the hospital with some cancer variation. One of those things that elicit a long sigh even as I intellectualize, well, it’s life and death, isn’t it? Where we all end. Yeah.
My formerly broken arm (the left one) continues improving. Did pushups this week. First was just a half one. Lot of quivering arm with it, some mild pain, greater worry. I think worry was holding me back all along. The arm just remains so thin looking, and the wrist still doesn’t move right. Hence, my worry. But I’ve done more pushups since. This morning, I managed two sets of four. Yeah, baby, progress.
Wrote this post during the AM hours. Then sat on it while I drank coffee and wrote like crazy. Now time to run to the library. They do a door service. Books are put on hold; we go to the door where a table is set up. They come out, we identify ourselves, and then the librarian goes in to find the books for us, check them out, and return. After the library, drop off some muffins to friends, then back home to eat a late lunch and rake leaves. Stay positive, test negative, and wear a mask.
I went for a short walk this morning. At forty degrees, it felt surprisingly warm. Most deciduous trees have finished disrobing and stood naked in my regard. Across the valley, sunshine dazzled the blue sky, highlighting the mountains and hills’ curves and peaks.
It was quiet. Into my stillness of gazing and thinking came the 1967 Small Face song, “Itchycoo Park”. If you remember the song, the refrain is, “It’s all too beautiful,” words that summarized it for me.
As a side note, I didn’t know the song title for a few years. I always thought it was “It’s All Too Beautiful” because of that refrain. Wasn’t till I was at a girl’s house that I learned the truth. Her older sister had it on a forty-five. Vicky said, “I love this song,” and I was like, I don’t know it. Then it came on, and, oh, I did know the song. Felt a little stupid, didn’t I? Admittedly, while most of the lyrics and music came easily to memory today, the song title took longer.
Here’s the song. Hope you remember it, and if you’re too young to know it, you’ll give a listen to yestercentury’s psychedelic beat music. Please, stay positive, test negative, and wear a mask. Cheers
Meat Floof (floofinition) – Floofmerican floof rock (flock) singer and actor known for his floofatrical, Floofnerian performances.
In use: “Meat Floof’s Floof Out of Hell trilogy has sold over fifty million copies. His song, “You Took the Food Right Out of My Mouth” reached the top 1oo for 1977 in seven countries.”
Today’s theme music is a 1971 song by Yes called “I’ve Seen All Good People”. It came to me as I wearied through news last night and this morning. Some good people ignored masking and distancing guidance, had a wedding, and COVID-19 spread, with those good people at the center of a superspreader event. A couple who were identified by friends as good people boarded a flight to Hawaii knowing they had COVID-19. A worker who knew he had COVID-19 didn’t tell others and kept working, spreading it through an organization.
Cynical me muttered, “I don’t want good people. I want disciplined people. I want team players who understand that part of their role is to pay fucking attention, stop being selfish, grit your teeth, wear your masks, and maintain social distance.”
Then I read of the Medford school board writing a letter to the Oregon governor to increase. This while hospitals and ICUs are filling up. Positivity is rising. Cases are rising. Death are rising. By all means, now is the perfect time to send children to school.
Topping that off was news about Mike Pompeo planning a big party at the State Department, after telling State Department personnel not to have large gatherings. And I read of the Austin Mayor tell people to stay home and stay safe, doing this from his vacation in Mexico, where he’d gone to celebrate his daughter’s wedding. On top of this —
Well, that was enough. The news had me gritting my teeth, SMH, and wondering if there is anything like instant karma. (“Instant karma: just add hot water and serve!”). Which took me to a line from the Yes song. Buried in the middle, they sing:
Send an Instant Karma to me Initial it with loving care Don’t surround yourself Cause it’s time, it’s time in time with your time
h/t to Genius.com
The song is a crazy collection of harmonizing play on words and ideas. I remember it well because I listened to it often.
Please be a good team player. Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and show some discipline. Yeah, it’s hard. We get it. But there are other things that are worse. I’ve read of too many good people falling sick and quite a few of them are dying.
Three short dream fragments stayed in the mental coil this morning.
Recollection of the first is short: my wife found something on the floor. Holding it up, she realized it was a cat’s tooth. We went to check the cats. Dream end.
A little longer one is up next. I was at a large outside gathering. We were seated at picnic tables. Weirdly, we were baking pizzas on the picnic tables. I called for one, put it behind me, and baked it for a while. When it was ready, I got some for myself and passed some to others. Then I began baking another, and forgot about it. When I remembered it, I turned to get it. It was dark but still edible. A man said, “You have a pizza baking there behind you?” I nodded. He said, “Why didn’t you say something? Some of us may have wanted some.” I protested, “I did,” but he turned away.
A former commander was then on as guest speaker. While he was talking, I walked around, quietly cleaning up. After a period, I needed a restroom. I went to the first one I found. Thinking it was available, I unzipped and pulled out my pecker. But, there was someone in there and the bathroom had no walls. A little kid saw me and told his parents, “I saw his penis dangling.” I went on to another restroom.
In the third short dream, I was coaching a team. I don’t know what sport. Our record was 16-8. A woman asked about it. I said, “We have eight losses and sixteen wins.” An older man (who reminded me of Malcolm McDowell) said, “Don’t say that. Always say the wins first. Always accent the positive by putting it first. You have sixteen wins and eight losses.
Mungo Floofy (floofinition) Flooftish floof rock (flock)/pop band from Floofchester formed in 1969.
In use: “Mungo Floofy’s most notable hit for most is “In the Litter Box”, which was released in 1970 and reached number one on eighteen charts in sixteen countries.”
Floofhook (floofinition) – Move by animals (especially by pets) to stop others by corralling them with a paw (or a claw, or feigned bite), often employed when they’re seeking attention.
In use: “Carrie made to walk around her cat, Jade, who stopped her with a floofhook to the ankle.”
Today’s theme song choice was released in 1970, and is influenced by Mom. I’m thinking of her this week due to holidays and snow. She lives in Pittsburgh, PA, and they had a snowstorm. She told me via FB messenger that they had seven inches on the ground yesterday.
She was a big band and swing fan, but listened to a spectrum of music, with torch songs being her favorite, I think. As pop music expanded and changed, she became more particular about what she listened to as I did the same. She wasn’t a fan of the British invasion or rock. As far as 1970 pop went, she liked Glen Campbell and Neil Diamond.
Today’s song is a Neil Diamond one. Mom loved “Cracklin’ Rosie” and would sing it whenever it came on the car radio. I used to ask her what a ‘Cracklin’ Rosie’ was but she said she didn’t know. When I learned it was wine, I passed that on. Didn’t matter; she still enjoyed the song, although the words now made more sense.
Anyway, that’s today’s theme music. Remember, stay positive, test negative, and wear a mask. Cheers.
Michael Seidel, writer 