Rain was coming down. Black asphalt reflected the oncoming traffic’s lights. The speed limit was 35 MPH here but he guessed that the approaching SUV was doing closer to 50. He couldn’t identify what brand the big, silver SUV was, because its grill and front end were gone. As it went by — a Toyota, he noted — he saw that the young female driver was holding a cell phone on top of the steering wheel. Her jaw and mouth were moving like she was shouting at the phone.
He wondered what the story was behind the vehicle’s front-end damage.
Wednesday glided on, light as a feather. January 18, 2023. 39 degrees F. Snow on the mountains but dry in the valley for now. Mild winds. Rain in the forecast and a high of 45 F as we navigate the weather and hours between 7:36 AM, when the sun kicked in the sunlight, to 5:08 PM, when the sun is kicked back out.
I have a Jimmy Buffett song from 1978 drumming through my morning mental music stream. I’ve been thinking about having a cheeseburger. We eat plant-based burgers at home. They’re delish. But we don’t keep cheese on hand because we like, use it, and eat it. I’ve been thinking about having one from somewhere, like a restaurant, I supposed for at least five days. Why haven’t I done it? I don’t know.
Yesterday, I read another person’s blog post “Caught In A Trap…Again”. They quoted lyrics from Jimmy Buffett’s song, “Fruitcakes”, in it. That triggered a memory storm for The Neurons. A husband and wife in the mid 1990s who were my neighbors were big Jimmy Buffett fans. They played his music, went to his restaurants and concerts, and wore his tee shirts. When the Fruitcakes album was released in 1994, Rick invited friends over to hear the album and have drinks and burgers. It was a bit of the tropics in that little California cul-de-sac that evening, but with cheeseburgers and cold draft beer. Margaritas were also offered, of course. It was a memorably good time.
Back to “Fruitcakes”, I’ve always enjoyed the line “Everyone has a little fruitcake in them” from it. Anyway, a Jimmy Buffett medley filled the stream for a bit but with the cheeseburger desire raging in me, “Cheeseburger in Paradise” is the last song playing.
Stay positive and do your best, I guess. Or not. It’s easy to say do your best and keep trying but, man, don’t we know that some many factors mitigate what you can do and the results? Sure.
It’s time for coffee and music. Here’s the tune. I’ll go get the coffee. Cheers
Tuesday’s note has been plucked, time for us to get up and f —
Yes, it’s Tuesday, January 17, 2023, for those scoring at home. Sunrise here was a minute later and the setting part will be a minute or two later. Slow change is taking place. It’s not really change, of course, except if you look at it with a very narrow aperture. That’s how I view many things taking place in the world today. They’re not really changes, they’re shift back to what they were, following an old orbit of thought. But the orbit will keep going and then we’ll again see the orbit’s other side.
Of course, it’s not exactly the same today as it was last year at this time of year. Nor is it the same as ten or a hundred years ago, despite what it seems. Small, but permanent shifts are found by studying the underlying details affecting the planet’s orbit. In the case of Earth’s days, we know its rotation is slowing. We know the average temperature is climbing, oxygen levels are dropping, and we know these temperature and oxygen results are being affected by human activity. We know days will become longer with the slower rotation and hotter with the slowing rotation. We know the sun is slowly cooling. We know our orbit is decaying and days will grow hotter as we edge toward the sun. We know that methane gases and diminishing glaciers will affect these outcomes. And some of us apparently know that the Earth is flat, and we’re kept from knowing the full truth about it by evil forces who don’t want us to know the truth for their own gain.
We also know that today is 3 degrees Celsius at the mo’, but it’ll climb to 48 degrees Fahrenheit here in Ashlandia. Sunshine has kicked into a satisfactory blaze. Actually, we know that the sun blazes along the same way all the time but clouds, axis tilts, weather pressure, and the Earth’s orbit defines our daily experience. We chose to express it along traditional lines that keep us at the center.
Conversing with Mom remains concerning. She prefers texting over talking on the phone. Her responses are about her many medical problems — heart, lungs, back, eyes, teeth, digestion, balance — upcoming appointments, and what is hurting where and what’s been tried and failed. Tres depressing to continue witnessing her decline and her fight against it. She wants to be there for her grandchildren, but her quality of life continues sliding down a hill, and it’s getting steeper.
After reading of more political contentions, more shootings and deaths, more murders and protests, The Neurons dialed up Elvis Costello and the Attractions’ 1978 cover of “(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love And Understanding” in the morning mental music stream. I enjoy his vocal style for this, but the song also display a pop sound from an earlier era. It’s upbeat tempo is a pleasant salve for rising depression and frustration.
Hope you have a grand day and you make it your way, and I’m not talking about McDonald’s, either. Stay positive. Yes, I dropped the negative test aspect of my daily encouragement to me and you. You’ll probably test negative one of these days but if you the right luck and medical assistance, there’s a hopeful chance you’ll emerged with your health intact.
Okay, I need coffee. Here’s Elvis and the band. Cheers
‘The Bad Old Days’ is the title of Herb Rothschild’s latest book. Not a novel, no. Bloomsbury’s Books in Ashland, Oregon, has an excellent bullet on the book:
“Herbert Rothschild Jr.’s The Bad Old Days: A Decade of Struggling for Justice in Louisiana depicts in vivid detail the kind of local work that transformed the Old South. In this blend of grassroots history and memoir, Rothschild tells story after story of confronting injustice. Engagingly written, his accounts bring to life a world that, while still recognizable, no longer exists as it did when he confronted it.”
Herb will be reading from his book at Bloomsbury’s in Ashland at 7 PM today, Monday, January 16, 2023. Sorry for the short notice but I just found out about it. If you’re in town and interested, stop by. Herb has been an activist for decades and remains a prominent force for change in Oregon’s Rogue Valley. He makes a terrific mulled cider and generously boozes it up. His pumpkin cheesecake is also damn good. Neither will be served tonight; just saying.
Mom was always tamping down on my behavior so that I wouldn’t stand out. She disliked attention and encouraged the same in her children. It’s a mistake to be like that and has crippled me in many ways.
He eavesdropped on two young women. They were seated about five feet from him. He guessed they were twenty years old and probably SOU students.
One woman asked the other, “Are you asexual?”
“Yes,” the other answered. “And bisexual.”
“You can be both?”
“Oh, yeah, you can be both.”
Can you, he wondered to himself. He thought that asexual meant that they either lacked sexual organs, or weren’t interested in sex and didn’t engage in sex.
Continuing his activities, he thought, it’s just another way in which words and their meanings are changing. He still couldn’t reconcile being asexual and bisexual, though.
The moon’s visit moved beyond normal to sublime. Sometimes a clear night hosts a moon that lights the night and finds something more primal and hopeful in the mind. Last night’s moon was one of these, romantic and inspirational, a moon with light that whispers, “the impossible is possible.” No wonder a moon like that is spoken of in sentences about magic, fairies, and spaceships.
It’s January 16, 2023. It’s Monday. It’s 30 degrees F and sunny. It’s calm. It’s a new week’s start. Happy New Week! Have you made any New Week resolutions? I have. Of course I have. I don’t do NY ones, but I do daily, weekly, and monthly resolutions. You only fail if you give up trying, am I right? Some people place the week’s start on Sunday. I consider Saturday and Sunday neutral ground. The week begins on Monday and ends on Friday.
The sun pressed its presence into our valley at 7:37 this morning, coming around like it’s nobody’s business. Daylight will light us up until about 5:05 this evening. Then the sun will set and bring on dusk, followed by night. The cold front will keep our high from getting much above 42 F. Some say that rain is due but the clouds for that job haven’t checked in. Snow is visible in far fields on high mountains, appearing like cake frosting on the ridges’ pines and firs. It’s a tranquil blue-sky sight.
News continues emerging about President Biden and the classified documents found at his home and office. This turn pisses me off more than Trump’s classified doc scandal. I thought Joe Biden was responsible and this oversight, this sloppiness, is infuriating. I was in the Air Force for twenty years. With high secret clearances and active in special access programs, dealing with classified material, including stuff that was Top Secret with special qualifiers, including nuclear war plans, launch codes, attack plans, and intelligence materials, I was frequently the Top-Secret Control Officer, the unit security manager, and also often the OPSEC/COMSEC and COMPUSEC manager. I took it seriously. My peers, commanders, and those we supervised all took it very damn seriously. I was appointed as an investigator several times when processes failed or people violated the governing regs and laws. Trump’s conniving to keep some classified documents ‘as his own’ insulted our efforts to keep the nation safe by properly protecting such material. Joe Biden’s sloppiness — or worse, as the investigations are only under way — undermines our systems as well. President Biden has at least acknowledged that what has happened is bad, unlike Trump, who dances and shouts, trying to deflect blame and responsibility, squeaking out ridiculous justifications for what he did.
Okay, off the soap box. Today’s music is “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood”. I went with the Animals version of 1964. Besides being the version seared into my memory by radio play repetition, I’ve always liked Eric Burdon. I also enjoyed the band’s keyboard use and the gritty blues sound they brought to their performances. The Neurons decided on this song and put it in the morning mental music stream after conversations with the cats. They were asking for something and I didn’t understand what it was. The felines’ insistence was the final driver for Les Neurons. Listening to them, Eric Burdon’s voice just rose from the depths of memory to sing, “Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood.” And there we were.
Try to stay positive. I know it can be tough. I feel less than positive on many days. Right now, I’m positive that I would murder a cup of coffee so I’m heading to the kitchen for that black brew. I’m excited just thinking about it! Here’s the music. Hope your week takes you to new heights. Cheers
He spent three days working to put together a better flow. Just two inconsistencies were seen but they were big. He loved that story line and the associated chapters. On the third day’s night, after he stopped writing, after he ate dinner, as he exercised at home, he faced the conclusion that he wanted to avoid; he needed to remove those chapters and that storyline.
Michael Seidel, writer 