Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
He’d done Wordle in two moves yesterday, and he was proud and pleased. Two moves! He was usually lucky to get it done in four. But he’d taken his wife’s advice to be intuitive. And, you know, he’d been lucky.
She’d finally joined him in the office, giving him the chance to crow. After mentioning the intuition thing, he said, “So my first guess was offbeat.”
Confusion creased her expression. “Offbeat is too big.”
He stared at her. “Let me try again. My first guess was an offbeat word choice.”
“Choice is six letters. That’s too many letters.” Understanding broke on her face. “Oh, I see.”
His stare deepened. “Tell you what, honey. Let’s get some coffee in you and then I’ll continue this tale.”
Both laughed.
Clouds have descended on us. It’s like, ain’t no sunshine. There is daylight, with the sun brokering the current levels when it came into the southern end of our valley at 7:10. We’re the funnel piece here, where I-5’s traffic coming north from California is squeezed through a pass and down through the mountains, heading west before turning north toward Portland. The mountains spread away at our town’s edge.
It’s 38 F now. The weather masters tell us it’ll be cloudy all day, maybe rain, but we should see some sunlight later, as temperatures will trudge into the fifties, peaking at 55 F. Precipitation might strike the valley in the early evening, depending on how the clouds tango.
This is Tuesday, 11/22/2022, another of those days that get people excited with its numbers. “Look! Eleven. Twenty-two. It must mean something.” Maybe it does mean something beyond a calendar date, but that meaning hasn’t surfaced for me. But it is a youthful day yet, still getting its footing at nine AM. Maybe all will be revealed at a later hour.
Sunset will be arriving in less than eight hours, at 4:44 PM. Get busy, ’cause we’re losing daylight.
I have The Peripheral on my mind. Do you know this novel and the television series? William Gibson gave us the book a few years ago. I’m a fan, so I read it, dazzled again by his ideas when I finished it. Differences between novel and series fascinates me, as these things often do. I’ve gone through this with Dune, I, Robot, Sense and Sensibility, Foundation, Game of Thrones, and so many others. I experience annoyance at the differences but also respect that the differences are required to carry the story and clean it up for delivery by a different media. Movies — and television — and books are not the same. Adaptations require some sacrifices.
“Lady Marmalade” from 1974 by Labelle is cruising the mental music stream. I blame The Neurons but I also blame the wife. Of course, it started with The Neurons.
“Hey Soul Sister” by Train had been playing on my car stereo. Entering the house, I greeted my wife, “Hey, soul sister, how they hanging?”
She responded with the opening lyrics of “Lady Marmalade”, “Hey sister, go sister, soul sister, go sister.” The Neurons answered, “Oh we know that song. It goes like this.” And it’s been going ever since.
Coffee time, yeah? Stay positive and test negative. Hope your weather is favorable and the news is good.
Cheers
I’d been selected to be a messenger. Don’t know who chose me, nor the message.
I was waiting to get the message in my place, a small apartment in a large high-rise building. Few windows let in light but natural sources outside were diminished by storms. Friends and acquaintances visited. Several noticed that I had four model cars in a case. These were Formula 1 cars from the 1970s and 1980s, 1/12 scale. People bent down to look into the black case to see them. As they began commenting, I turned on the case lights so they could see them. Up front on the right was the Ferrar 312 T which Lauda drove to championships. Behind it a little was a Mclaren MP4/4, a model driven by Senna and Prost, with the markings and settings for Prost’s vehicle. I explained these things to everyone, but then, the time for me to act as messenger arrived.
The message was given on a slip of paper. I went out and delivered it, no problem, despite a deluge. Coming back, I descended a long, steep hill on an asphalt path. Left of me was busy thoroughfare, twelve lanes of newly paved road, packed with cars. At the bottom of the hill was an intersection where a wide new road came down from the right. I needed to cross that wide road. My building was on the other side. I could see its parking lot.
Rain still poured as thunder rumbled. I stepped onto the road into the crosswalk, then looked back and left to ensure the cars turning right from the main road were letting me pass. They were stopped and waiting, so I waved thanks and proceeded. Mind shifting to the traffic coming on the road which I crossed, I saw a huge tanker truck approaching, going way too fast for conditions. I stopped to await the outcome.
The long truck, a blue tractor with a silver trailer, was rushing toward the intersection, sliding with his brakes locked. As he passed me, the truck entered a slow jack knife and then fell over onto its side and slid more, stopping just after entering the intersection. Everyone saw it coming and stopped. No one hit it and it sat on its own, alone in the intersection.
A young Black man on a blue bike had been riding down the hill toward the intersection. When the truck arrived and jack knifed, the bike guy braked hard, slid, lost control and was thrown from the bike.
I rushed to help, recognizing that he was also a messenger. He was conscious but dazed, sitting on the roadway, his twisted bike to one side, rain drenching him. Others came to help him, too. I told them to call for an ambulance. Someone suggested helping the truck driver, but I disdained that; he’d brought that on himself, I thought, and others were undoubtably going to help him. A glance that way confirmed that people were at the truck.
I asked the bike rider, “Are you a messenger?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“Are you hurt?”
He shook his head. People went to help him up. “No,” I said. “He had a big tumble. There may be injuries which we don’t know. Wait for the EMT.”
Then I asked him, “Where does your message go? I’ll take it for you.”
Dream end.
Floofmosis (floofinition) – Animal’s ability to unobtrusively expand and move, without apparently moving, to take over an entire space, despite its size.
In use: “The family cats and dogs were all floofmosis masters. Each was cabable of settling on a bed or chair with a person and slowly pushing the person out, even though the animals all weighed less than twenty pounds and the people were all over one hundred ten pounds and had both weight and size advantages over the animals. They just couldn’t compete with the floofmosis.”
My wife and I were traveling in the gray Toyopet Publica which we had during our Okinawa residence back in the early 1980s. Two cats, Boo and Quinn (deceased in real life in the last two years) accompanied us. A whim took us on a visit to a ramshackle and primitive roadside tourist trap. Small cabins painted light blue with dark blue trim pressed in alongside a small store, tiny café with deck, and peeling white picnic tables and a zoo.
Boo and Quinn were acting strange, pulling my attention to them. I was worried about where they were and what was going to happen to them. I kept mentioning this to my wife. Meanwhile, she was walking around, trying to see things.
I ended up going to the end of the main building. Bushes to the left over remnants of a cinder block wall pinched the path into a narrow passage at that point. As I checked on the cats, I heard noises. Turning, I discovered a large horned animal on the path back by the building. It seemed to be having a fit but moving our way. I grabbed my wife, who hadn’t noticed, and said, “Come on, we need to move.” Then I took her around to the café deck. I find us seats but many people were using the ramp beside us and kept bumping into me. Annoyed, I decided to move. A man beside me said, “Thank you to the man with the green hat on for moving.” I was wearing my green Tilly hat so I knew he meant me. I didn’t know if he was being sarcastic but went on.
Searching for my cats in different places, I encountered a wild little red cat throwing a fit. I realized that it was located where the other animal was having a fit and guessed there might be something wrong with the air there or something. The increased my concern for my cats. I sped up my search and found the two. Both were almost comatose. I took them back to the car and revived them, and then called to my wife to leave.
He read that they were ‘de-aging’ Harrison Ford for a movie.
He wondered when someone was going to ‘de-age’ him.
High white cirrus brush strokes marble the pale blue sky. Monday, November 11, 2022, begins with sunshine and 33 degrees F in my foot of the valley. Although autumn fashion still imbues most neighborhood, eau de winter fills the air. It’ll be 54 F today, and mostly sunny. Sunshine crept in at 7:08 this morning like a cat sneaking in through the pet door. The day’s final rays will grace us at 4:45 PM.
We’re planning our soups. Soups in winter is a household favorite. Post Thanksgiving, we’ll resume a soup a week. I listed my favorites. Top of the list is harvest soup, which is all roasted veggies with mushroom broth. Second is chicken white chili. Tortellini soup comes next. Black bean veggie chili fills the fourth slot followed by lentil in fifth. Nothing like soup and warm bread on cold days to fill you, and these are all healthy and filling. Their simmering fragrances are a lovely bonus.
Musically, The Neurons were influenced by another’s post. Jill shared a song by Mike +the Mechanics, “In the Living Years”. It traditionally makes me pause to consider my relationship with Dad. Not the best, nor the worse, but a damaged one and a fount for personal frustration. He and I try but there’s just too much piss in the snow to completed the connections. I’m from his first marraige but he has children and stepchildren from a few other marriages. Dad was in the military and finally living in the continental US when I was a teenager. Another one of Mom’s marriages was imploding so I took refuge with Dad. He married again in my high school senior year. I became an adult and was gone. You see how it is. He just celebrated his 90th birthday last month.
That song prompted memories of other M +tM songs. The Neurons began playing “Taken In” from their 1985 album. I had it on CD and played it while driving across the southeastern U.S. I did that a lot in that life era. While stationed at Shaw AFB in South Carolina, I deployed on temporary duty to Florida, Somalia, Egypt, and places in Europe. I’d drive to stateside places, but before deploying, I’d sometimes take my wife and cats up north to stay with her family, as I’d be gone a while, four to eight weeks. So there were the trips there and back to taker her home, and there and back to pick her up. I put 54,000 miles on the car in eighteen months. Besides music, I’d listen to books on cassette tapes from the library. They weren’t yet on CD in our base library. It was an interesting time of transition.
“Taken In” is a mellow song and was ideal as a vehicle to help past the day speeding down the highways. I’d never seen the video before, but I love the period touches — the phones, the clothing, the cars. Hope you enjoy the video and music.
Here we go. Got coffee and a plain blueberry bagel. A cat monitors my progress on my left. The other sleeps in another room, where sunshine slices in past the slats on the blinds, generating a cozy ambiance. Stay positive, test negative. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 