Month: October 2022

Saturday’s Theme Music

The end is nigh! We’re discussing October of 2022, of course. The next flotilla of days, led by November 1st, are cresting the horizon and coming our way as October’s last days pack up the gear, tidy up, and prepare to send October off.

Yes, it’s Saturday, October 29, 2022. Beautiful fall morning here, sunshine, trees sparkling with wet leaves in hues of merlots and reds, golds and lemons, salads and oranges. Sunset cut down the night at 7:40 this morning. Clouds send a fog squad in, but the sunshine quickly dispatched it. Some clouds now roam the higher reaches, calculating approaches. The temperature has perked up to 51 F and will hit 20 C later today. Sunshine will be cut off at 6:08 PM.

BTW, happy birthday to Mom! As she proudly proclaims, she’s a tough old toboggan. That’s our joke, found when her phone corrected her voice text from ‘tough old broad’ to toboggan. I also refer her to a tough old bird, which she enjoys. She’s roving her upper eighties now, and if she likes being called a tough old bird or a tough old broad, I give it to her, especially in the shadow of her September health crises.

The Neurons uploaded The Offspring and “Coming for You” from 2015 into the morning mental music stream. I haven’t heard the song in a few years but the cats were relentless this morning. They kept coming for me through the night, snuggling up for some head scratches, interrupting dreams, breaking REM, knocking on the cat door to go out and come in. I told them, “Guys, I need some sleep. You keep coming for me.” The Neurons tortured that sentiment into The Offspring lyrics, “Well no, hell no, they keep coming for you.” It’s a solid punk anthem heavy on distorted guitar sounds and in-your-visage with their lyrics and delivery.

Time to move on to coffee island, where the brew is hot, pure, and strong. Stay positive, test negative, and do what’s needed to see the pandemic’s end. Here’s the music. Never seen the video before today, but that was fascinating. I can see the song done with cats, though, eyeing you, walking and stalking the night, you know, coming for you…

Cheers

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Floofee Break

Floofee Break (floofinition) – A short break to visit with an animal.

In use: “After doing chores, a floofee break with the cat and dog always restored Marc’s spirits. Sometimes he’d take two or three floofbreaks a day. Rainy days could tun into a day-long floofee break.”

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Friday’s Wandering Thought

He knew a brief history of pants and also read about plural tantum, but it still bothered him to hear underwear referred to ‘a pair of underwear’ or ask for ‘a pair of pants’. He had no problem with a pair of glasses although a pair of scissors irked him. For his own use, he’d quit referring to a ‘pair’ of any of these things.

He was just trying to pare things down to make life simpler.

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A Shambolic Dream

Arriving somewhere outside, I was met by a man I knew. I’d worked with him at a startup after my military career. Now he was dressed as a light colonel. Greeting me and my wife, he said, thumb over shoulder to indicate direction, “Come on over here and join us. We’re going to review your records.”

So first, I acted like that was completely and totally normal. I said to my wife, “Oh, I guess I’m in the military.” She agreed and went off to do something while I went through my review.

Several problems immediately presented. One, no uniform. Two, haircut out of regs. So was the mustache. Three, I needed to get my records.

My records were to have been pulled and sent over for the review. I was directed over to an area where a table was set up like it was in a record store, but this was all outside under a sunny early autumn day. People were milling, going through the sectioned records, searching for their records. Someone offered to help me. As I went through them, I found my records and so announced. But wait; those weren’t my records. The first and last names were correct, but the middle name was wrong. On, no, they’d sent over the wrong records.

As I swore a bit about what had happened, I noticed another table to the left. It wasn’t set up in the same way. I stepped over to it and there were my records.

I rushed them over to the large card table where the review was being conducted. I knew several of those folks from both military and civilian careers. As I came up, I heard one chief master sergeant say, “But that’s how he aways is.” Others agreed.

I was mortified. Were they speaking of me? What did they mean?

They reviewed others’ records. When it came to be my turn, I joked with them and then explained that I was just back, I’d been visiting with my mother, who’d been very sick. They seemed disinterested. They looked through my records and commented on my haircut and lack of uniform. I told them that I was trying to get it together. One said, “Didn’t you come back from being with your mother a few weeks ago?” When I answered yes, he continued, “Then shouldn’t you have it together by now?”

“Yes,” I agreed. “Let me go get my haircut. My wife was just telling me that I needed to get one. And my uniform is in my locker. I’ll get it and put it on.”

I went off, with my wife joining me. We were mumbling to one another about the situation. She had my clothes, having gotten them out of my locker. Great, but they were horribly wrinkled. Where could I iron them or have them pressed? There was no time, no time.

Then, some young airman dressed in a black pseudo-NAZI military uniform insulted my wife. Overhearing it, I was furious. Confronting him, I wanted to hit him but instead warned him that I was taking action against him. Laughing, he told me, “Fuck you.” That pissed me off further. Another person attempted to defend him as the first guy stood there laughing. I told both that I was busting their asses before my wife pulled me away.

Stepping out of the locker area, I put on the wrinkled pants. Others, including the board members, turned and watched. I then tugged on the shirt only to realize that the shirt and pants were from two different uniform combinations and didn’t match. I thought, oh my God, now I’m screwed.

The guy who greeted me at the dream’s beginning came up. He said, “Don’t worry about any of this. We’re cutting you a break.” As I responded with astonished relief, he went on, “They reported that they found a spell on you, a curse. We’ve lifted that, but since you were under it up to this point, we thought we’d give you a pass.”

The dream ended as I was absorbing this.

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Friday’s Theme Music

Daylight come and Friday begin. We all know Friday began much earlier than dawn or sunrise. Sunrise staked its moment at 7:39 AM. Daylight plans to hold on until 6:10 PM. Speaking personally — I’m not sure how else to speak, unless I’m speaking for the cats — the sunlight brings warmth and light and I enjoy its presence.

It is October 28, 2022. We’ll see how this day falls out in future history books. Musk bought Twitter so this day could be one marked for the books. Inflation is falling, so that might also show up as part of history. Who knows?

It’s 39 degrees F in my world section, not as cold as some places, not as warm as others. It’ll be 61 by daylight’s end. I have “Devil Woman” by Cliff Richards (1976) in the morning mental music stream. This came about from a dream. Absolutely everything was going wrong in it. As my irritation and frustration reached epic levels in the dream, someone came about to tell me, “Don’t worry. You were under a curse so we gave you a pass.” There’s more to it but I might share the dream in another post. Don’t want to spoil things here, ha, ha.

Anyway, after awakening and going through this dream, The Neurons responded with “Devil Woman”. I don’t think I’ve heard it in a long, long time, as opposed to just a long time.

Hold on. There will be a brief break in the posting process while the Tucker gets his mouse love. He must rub his face against my hand as it sits on the mouse every morning and evening. It’ll be just a few minutes…

Okay, where was I? Reading, reading… Okay, as I was writing, I’ve not heard this song in a long time so The Neurons’ choice surprised me. I suppose that reading about the Salem witch trials a few days ago may have caused some subconscious connections. I checked out several videos of Richards performing the song. No band or backup… He doesn’t move his feet much, either, but quite expressive with his hand in his stagecraft. It represents the era, 1976, well, though. Like, love those bell bottoms.

Alright, remain positive and test negative. I have a cat beating at the door. I told Papi not to go out because it’s chilly and he no like the cold, but he insisted. Now he insists, time to get back in the house. So I’ll let him in and then get his coffee, I mean, my coffee, and eat breakfast, drink coffee, and peruse the news to see what they’ll say about Friday, October 28, 2022, in the future. Here’s the music. Cheers

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The Morning Mouse

He has his routines. After eating his wet food and his kibble, he heads for the desk. His guy is seated behind it, on the computer. There, on the right, is the man’s mouse, used for his computer, his hand resting on it. Eyeing it, he walks around the computer to the mouse hand, and puts his nose down and starts rubbing on his human’s hand. He usually only wants about two to three minutes of rubbing on the mouse hand before settling down for a nap, using the mouse hand as a pillow. That rarely works because the hand and mouse moves, eventually causing him to jump down to find another napping location. But all is well.

He’s had his morning mouse. It’ll suffice until after dinner. Then he’ll have his evening mouse.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

As promised, we have Thursday, October 27, 2022, upon us. Your reality might vary.

Thin fog was the acting doorman when sunrise made their 7:38 AM entrance. The fog stole the show. It’s burned off since then, with the temperature rebounding from 38 F to its present 6 degrees C, on the way to a high mark of 62 F. Clouds have vacated the sky. Sunshine glints off yellow leaves like they’re pure gold.

The Neurons have brought up a song from 1978 called “Whenever I Call You Friend”. The song was written by Kenny Loggins and Melissa Manchester, two big names from the 1970s pop scene. Kenny recorded and released the song but the female on it was Stevie Nicks, who was uncredited, all stuff learned from American Top 40 back in the day.

All this came about because my beer group met last night. Prior to that, I’d sent the group a Youtube link of Mark Knopfler and Dire Straits performing a fantastic live rendition of “The Sultans of Swing”. Everyone enjoyed it. Discussion started with one member, who was a DJ at the time, about the music which came out then. He recalled playing songs on both 45 vinyl and CDs. That was a surprising mix to me; I remembered Sultans coming out in 1978, but I remember having the album on CD. I didn’t buy my first CD player until 1984, and knew they were being sold at least two years before, but not in the late 1970s. I realized, though, that I’d not initially purchased Dire Straits’ debut album. I was just back from the Philippines then, living in Texas, and then left the USAF and bought a restaurant and was running it. I had a juke box and listened to the music on it. I was also going to college then. Money was tight, so I didn’t buy the album until later, after I’d re-enlisted in the Air Force, having failed as a restaurant owner.

All that soon had The Neurons circling 1978 like a train set around a Christmas tree. I was thinking about my beer buddies and how I enjoyed their friendship. Hello, The Neurons replied, and began playing, “Whenever I Call You Friend”. It still resides in my morning mental music stream which brings us to now.

Stay positive, be cool, and test negative. The coffee is brewed and ready to flow into action. Here’s the music. Also, since I mentioned it, here’s the Dire Straits video, too. Have a better one, friends.

Cheers

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