Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Lev says it all in here. Find out what works for you. I sit down to write everyday. Sometimes the output is small. I don’t worry; my mind is constantly working the scenes and the words to describe them. They keep. It keeps on flowing, sometimes as a drip, other times as a tsunami.
I’ve rolled the dice. They’ve come up sixes. Moving my piece — which, by the way, is a beer mug — half full, thanks — I land on Wednesday, October 20, 2021. Shadows are long and the sunrise is slow where I am. A weak, lethargic sun, debilitated by distance and angles, hindered by clouds. It began its journey through our sky, a function of the world turning, at 7:29 AM Pacific, and will retreat from our region at 6:21 PM.
Rain sang to us all night long, sometimes soft as a kitten’s swat. Othertimes it burst into a long Buddy Rich drum solo. The wind came in with demonic shrieking and wolfish howling. Now it’s calm. We hear it’s a momentary thing. We’re happy for the rain as it feeds root systems and replenishes our water sources. While it rains here, we keep our fingers crossed that it’s snowing in the mountains, building up the snowpack.
We’re at 46 degrees F. right now. High will be about 56. Air quality is good, at 7.
The morning’s mental music stream is entertaining me with “Eminence Front” by The Who from 1982. Not a favorite song nor album. I felt their mojo had waned by then. But — should be noted — I’m comparing this song with the music I knew from them ten years earlier. I believe front was the trigger for the song’s entrance into the MMMS. I was reading about weather fronts. I think the mental Alexa jumped on that and said, “Playing ‘Eminence Front’ by The Who.” She’s so cheeky.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vaxes and boosters as recommended. Then, chill. Have some coffee. I know I will. I hear it whispering to me from the other room. Here’s the music. Cheers
First day of school. She’d had to buy her son a new Backhand. He wore it proudly, turning to see it again and again. Fiddling with its controls. Mastering it.
A Backhand. On her son. Her five year old. She’d not gotten a Backhand until she was twenty-three years old. But they hadn’t been affordable to her until she was twenty-two. By then they’d been around for five years, replacing phones, watches, laptops, and everything else. Just a device on the back of your hand, doing all those things, feeding off your body’s energy. She still discovered it as amazing and creepy.
She wasn’t ready to surrender her little boy to the pearly halls of education. He seemed so small and fragile. This was the pain of being a mother. Her mom told her she would experience it. She knew she would, too. She’d been a virtual mother for two years, training for the vocation.
“Are you nervous, Jayed?”
Jayed turned his liquid brown orbs at her with a bright smile. “I’m not nervous. Why would I be?”
Not surprising. He’d gone to in-person daycare and online classes since he was three. They grow up so fast.
Jayed said “They’re going to start teaching us emoticons today. I already know most of them.”
Kary’s mother came in as Jayed said that. She, of course, couldn’t stop a head shake. Habit and personality compelled it. “Emoticons. I remember when we learned cursive writing. I was older than him. It was phased out two years after my class. Oh, how things change.”
She squatted down before Jayed. “Look at my little scholar.”
Jayed was dressed in his best red shirt with black shorts and purple rubber sandals. Corporate sponsors on his front and back. The usual suspects. Energy companies. Baseball and football teams. Restaurants and banks. They all had part of her baby already. But this was good. Without corporate sponsors, they wouldn’t be able to afford public school. The city’s NFL team, the Mexico City Aztecs, had stepped forward in a big way. Paid for all his vaccination, his share of the teacher, and his meals.
The teleporter chimed. “Time to go,” Jayed said, spinning and striding toward the teleporter like a miniature man. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll be okay.”
She rushed to him, along with her mother. Both bent, forcing him to turn back to them, lavishing the youth with hugs and slobbering, noisy kisses as they said, “You be good. Treat others with respect.” He endured and accepted, then smiled. “You shouldn’t be so emotional. I’m just going off to school. I’ll be back tonight.”
Then he stepped back into the teleporter. Raised the Backhand to the keypad. Synced. And was gone.
We’re striding through the week, marching through Tuesday, October 19, 2021. The winds here think it’s March. They’re roaring like a lion. Sunrise arrived sans fanfare at 7:28 AM, with sunset due at 6:23 PM. Temps will reach into the mid sixties from their present point of 56 F before dropping down into the low forties tonight. It’ll be a dry day, with a bit o’ wind. If the wind ceases later, as expected, I’ll head out for a walk.
Was a beautiful walk yesterday afternoon. Two miles burnished by bright sunshine and cool, mild breezes. Colorful trees provided companionship, along with deer, squirrels, jays, and cats. With an AQI of ten, the view across the valley was unhindered and inspiring.
With the cooler temperatures, we have the house heat turned on for the season. We keep the house at 68 F during the day. While that’s the agreed temperature and I find it comfortable, my wife likes it hotter. Not so much a personal request on her part; more a matter of coping with her health conditions. As compromise to the situation, we have a small electric heater employed in the snug. It’s like a little sun in there. She cranked it up to Medium yesterday, or, as I call it, broil. Had the room a toasty 81 degrees F. That inspired the morning mental music stream, of course. I ended up singing lyrics to myself from “Some Like It Hot” by The Power Station, way back in 1985.
Feel the heat pushing you to decide
Feel the heat burning you up, ready or not
Some like it hot, and some sweat when the heat is on
Some feel the heat and decide that they can’t go on
Some like it hot, but you can’t tell how hot till you try
Some like it hot, so let’s turn up the heat till we fry
h/t to AZLyrics.com
The last time I used this song as theme music was June, 2019, when a heat wave was crashing o’er us. Whenever I think of the song’s title, I can’t stop the movie, “Some Like It Hot”, from crashing in. A silly farce from Billy Wilder that won six Academy Awards, it had a helluva cast, with Jack Lemmon, Tony Curtis, and Marilyn Monroe headlining. Not PC for these times. A remake would require substantial re-scripting. But it came out in 1959. I saw it on television, of course, a looong time later.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Here’s the music. Time for me to rassle up some coffee. Cheers
Well. Left the link to the video out. Sorry. That’s what I get, trying to post without hot-starting my brain with spot of coffee first.
Floofillment (floofinition) – Sense of contentment by being with or helping animals.
In use: “For many animal rescuers comes the floofillment from turning an ugly situation for a poor animal into a new life — and a new hope.”
Michael Seidel, writer 