Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Cruising the morning headlines, one hooked his brain. “First public erection.”
Wait, what? He went back. Ah, “First public execution.”
Oh. That’s alarming in a different way.
Definitely not good to read the news without first having his morning coffee.
White frost rules the shadows. As sunshine finds it, steam rises. The temperature is balking from going up, hanging on to that overnight low of 26 F (-3 C). Steam rises as sunshine finds the frost and melts it away. A hazy blue sky and low gray clouds on the western horizon tells us little about what the weather has in store for us today. 46 F is the expected high.
It’s 12/7/2022, Wednesday. December 7 remains vivid in US history as the day Japanese naval air forces attacked Pearl Harbor. Despite that history, the sun rose and it will set, with respective times of 7:26 AM and 4:39 PM.
AC/DC rules the morning mental music stream. The Neurons heard “Shoot to Thrill” (1980) on the radio yesterday and decided they remembered that they liked it. The down under band always knows how to rock it, though they’ve felt the effects of life forces as death took the older of the rock guitarist brothers who founded the band. That was a few years ago. They still thrill us via technology.
The song has a lot of sexual overtones to it. But it’s all about a drug scene, inspired by tales of dealers providing housewives with drugs. It’s hard rock of the finest kind, part of the album, “Back in Black”, released after their lead singer died. The album lifted AC/DC to new commercial success.
Stay positive and test negative. Stay warm if you inhabit cold climes, and stay cool if you in the hot zones. Enjoy an inspired Wednesday. Speaking of inspired, where is my coffee?
Cheers
PWF (floofinition) – Floofnet slang for ‘Playing with floof’, shorthand employed to send a message to others that they’re busy playing with a furred, feathered, or scaled friend.
In use: “After adopting a rescue dog from the county shelter, Kristie often found herself texting others, PWF, so much so that her friends started referring to her as KWF – Kristie with floof. That was fine with her. Her new friend was sweet, loving, fun, and smart. What more was needed?”
Dawn broke, and now we could see why it was so dark. Last night’s sky was clear. Enriched by unblemished moonshine, spectacular starry mountain vistas were on offer.
Today, clouds have gone come down and fog hugs the ground. Grey is the color of the sky, and sunlight evades our searching eyes.
It’s Tuesday, December 6, 2022. Hear the tick tick of the digital clocks emulating the grandfather clock’s countdown? That’s the sound of the year leaving. Or maybe it’s the sound of the next year hurrying to us. The sun showed up on our spinning planet’s piece called southern Oregon at 7:25 this morning and will toss goodbye over its sunny shoulders at 4:39 PM. It’s 0 C but we’re hopeful of reaching 44 F today. Rain? No, they say. They’re telling us that despite the overcast sky and fog I’m seeing, it’s actually mostly sunny in Ashland. Most be another part of town.
What I notice of my morning rituals is that the summer sun comes in through the large east-facing living room window. By this time of the year, the sun shyly looks in through the southern window around the corner from the living room window and twenty-three feet further up the side of the house. They have come to be known as the summer window and winter window for me.
I awoke with a Led Zeppelin favorite in mind. Coming out in 1971, when I became fifteen years old, Led Zepp’s fourth album had a song on it called “When the Levee Breaks”. Now, I enjoyed that entire album but that song was the one which usually haunted me later. Later reading revealed that it was an old country song, which added a layer of thinking that stimulated greater introspection. Its worrying lyrics and downcast beat seemed firmly rooted in someone’s existence.
Later, I found its beat and tone conducive to walking and thinking. I was then and have always been a person who enjoys walking distances. I’m one to take the long way home when I’m on my feet, climbing up hills to gain a broader perspective. So it was that I was out yesterday, climbing the hills and thinking about my writing in progress when The Neurons rummaged through my youthful memories and began playing it. It stayed in my morning mental music stream today.
When I went off looking for a version to play today, I stumbled upon this version by the Playing for Change project. Incorporating a huge variety of sounds and talented individuals, it’s even more powerful and haunting than the version Zepp gave us. John Paul Jones of Zepp is included among the musicians. Derek Trucks is one of the folks on slide guitar. I hope you listen to the song and that it stirs you as it does me.
Off for coffee. Stay pos and test negative. Here’s the video. Cheers
Yep. Then later, you remember and wonder how you ever forgot that.
He feels like he’s chasing time. Time is like a red laser dot, nominally a pointer, but often used to tease cats, and he’s the cat. He knows he can’t catch the time dot but he can’t stop his nature from trying.
Moanday is upon us again. That is Moanday as in, “Dear Lord, it’s Monday again.” I understand some people like Mondays. Come back to me and ask after I’ve had coffee.
It’s December 5, 2022. That happens to be my little sister’s birthday. She’s beautiful, intelligent, successful, and highly capable. Things every person should be. Generates suspicions in me about whether I’m related to her, though I was there when Mom brought her home and admired her as she slept. I know her husband, children, grandchildren, sisters, and Mom will all properly fete her.
Don’t you think that should be an expression? “Well, fete me, if I didn’t forget to buy that card while I was out.”
Sorry, lack of coffee is making The Neurons are little freakie deakie this Moanday.
36 F is what my weather station claims it to be. It’s a wet, foggy, gloomy Moanday, something appropriate for the moors. Our high will be 46. The end pieces of sunrise and sun drop are 7:24 and 4:39, AM and PM respectively. All but small, distant football fields of snow are gone from the mountains from what I saw yesterday. Rain is coming, they say. Probably snow a bit in the upper reaches.
Spent some time from being human and reading news to watching the volcano eruption in Hawaii. Being human is a minor theme this AM. Started with the cats. Restless due to weather, they intensely shadowed me this morning, vocally challenging me at every turn. Chatting with them, my refrain became, “Guys, look, I already fed you. I don’t understand what you want. I’m only human. I don’t understand your floofish.”
Paying scant attention, my neural Alexa told The Neurons, “Play Human by The Human League.” The 1986 soft ballad is classic techno pop. Get in a car, close your eyes, and you can be transported to the Reagan years. Of course, I sang the floof version for the cats’ amusement. First, there was, “You’re only human, a pathetic little man.” That’s how they seem to feel about me at times. Later’s version was, “I’m just a kitty, fur and claws, a cat.”
The Neurons are gasping for coffee. I need to end their pain. Here’s the music. Go ahead, drift back in time, if but a few seconds. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 