Flooftiny (floofinition) 1. A small animal.

In use: “The flooftiny they brought home fit into Grace’s palm. They didn’t believe he’d live, but two years later, he weighed over twenty pounds and was a formidable, furry, fun character, not surprising for a Maine Coon.”

2. One or more animals and individuals predetermined by fortune or fate to be with one another.

In use: “The puppy and the kitten came to the house just before Jessica was born. It was like flooftiny that the three individuals would grow up together as best friends, entertaining everyone with their antics and relationship.”

3. An animal’s passive resistance to authority.

In use: “The Husky staged a flooftiny every day, laying down and refusing to walk on the leash in the hot weather.”

The Friend & Car Dream

A line of dreams stormed the night. One ended, a short time later, another stole in.

This one featured a friend and co-worker, George. We met during my civilian employment phase. We admired and enjoyed one another from the start. One of his people later came to work for me and commented about how much alike George and I were.

First, though, was some dream weirdness. I was in some non-descript place. Others entered, and we all came together to start putting a wall together. Unknown reasons were behind the wall building, yet we were having fun. With some surprise, I realized that we were building a basement wall. I kept building even as I pondered why that was needed. Finishing it, I curled up on an armchair to sleep and the others left.

My sleep was interrupted by others entering several times. I always knew the new people and found them a place to sleep, sometimes upstairs. Some lived nearby so I questioned, why did they want to sleep in my place, especially my basement? One young woman was particularly puzzling. I think she wanted something from me, so I was sort of leery of her and her intentions. She seemed artificially happy and wanted to sleep close to me.

Then George arrived, along with a fistful of other co-workers. Getting up, I expressed surprise at their arrival. We chatted about old times. George and I had never worked in the same physical location. He worked at the company headquarters, and I was across the country. He and the others were visiting my work location. Pleased with that, I started showing them different things, telling them about how it’d changed since the early days. We were outside now. There used to be a wall up there, which was where we blah blah blah’d, I explained. Asking him and the rest if he remembered aspects of the area and how it used to be, I told him about where people used to go to lunch in the old days.

George wanted to see it. Calling my wife over to join us as the other employees walked on, I told George that I could take him in my car. We were immediately beside it, a gold tone sixties era convertible with the top down that I never quite fully saw. I told my wife that we were going to go see the old lunch area. By that point, George had entered the car and was behind the wheel. He wanted to drive my convertible, referring to it as a classic.

The three of us in the car, George driving, top down, sunshine covering us, drove off. George loved the car’s acceleration. That pleased me. I gave George directions about where to go, continuing to tell him about the changes we passed as we went. The road was smooth, a divided four-lane highway, the traffic light, with a matching mood. Along the way, I told him that people used to ride their bikes to come down here and get lunch, explaining that they’d exploited shortcuts.

We arrived at the lunch spot. Settled in the middle of a huge dirt and gravel parking lot was a large building, wood, painted dark brown. Inside was the same brown color. Fluorescent tube lights and windows provided light. The floor was bare cement. A few tables of aluminum tubes with Formica tops, with padded curved aluminum chairs, were lined against one wall, napkin holders, ketchup and mustard containers on them. Two or three workers in aprons were behind the short corner in one dark corner under work lights. George walked around, looking at the place, not saying anything, as my wife and I silently followed. Then we left.

We took another way back, to stop at another site I’d mentioned. This one was a low, narrow building with lush, exotic landscaping. It wasn’t the building which I expected and told George, but he insisted we go in anyway. The ceiling was low and the inside was dark. Within were a small Asian couple, husband and wife, we assumed. They offered me a glass of water, which I accepted and drank as George walked around. My wife said, “I wish you hadn’t taken that.” I confirmed that she meant the water, which puzzled me.

We decided to leave. The couple gave George a wrapped piece of gum, and then asked him for 10,000 yen for my glass of water. My wife, George, and I talked in confusion about what was being asked of us. When he understood, George laughed and said, “I don’t have ten thousand yen.” My wife said, “I knew you shouldn’t drink that water.”

We left without paying, but the couple didn’t seem to mind. The dream ended as we got into the car again. George insisted that he would drive.

Saturday’s Wandering Thought

He met three visitors to the town, here for a conference. What’s your specialties, he asked, being polite, making conversation.

They study flies on dead things, they told him.

“Really,” he replied. “What’s the buzz?” He felt that it had to be said.

He didn’t win any laughs. Not even a smile. They’d heard it all before.

Saturday’s Theme Music

Got up early, fed the cats. Went back to bed because, at 7:15 AM, the light cast a feel that it was closer to five AM. Rising an hour later on this Saturday morning, I found the light much improved. Mixed with clouds, sunshine, rains, and mist, the light seemed pretty much perfect.

It couldn’t last. Clouds swarmed the local atmosphere. Rain shadowed in. But I still thought, it might be nice outside, because it was warm and cozy within, right? Papi, my ginger-furred wonder, told me otherwise. He was beating on the front door. I rushed over and opened it. Yelling, “Meow,” as he dashed in, he let me know how incensed he was. It was cold and wet outside and now he was cold and wet, which is not a preferred state. “A little fresh kibble might ameliorate my mood.” I did as I was told. Always do.

It’s 50 degrees F, November 5, 2022, and raining. We turn back the digits and clock hand tonight, if you do that sort of thing. Well, tomorrow morning, actually. as the deed is done in that nether region that’s both late night and early morning, depending on where you stand on the spectrum about when night and morning literally begin. Today’s high will be 51 F. See, that’s the day’s nature, a balance by degrees here.

“Rock Me Baby” is in my morning mental music stream. This song has been around my entire life. B.B. King’s cover was a hit in 1964 and became his signature song. A blues standard, many artists have covered and recorded it. B.B.’ version was inducted into the rock and roll hall of fame. His arrangement is what’s in my head today, but the cover is by Etta James and Stephen Stills, with the Roots. I’m a fan of all three of those entities, so when I found a recording from 1983 of them doing this song, I sat and listened. The Neurons have nothing to do with my theme music choice for a change.

Well, hope you enjoy it. Give everyone my regards. Stay positive and test negative. The coffee man (that’s me) has delivered. Time to imbibe. Cheers

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