Simplefloof(floofinition) – 1. An animal with few needs or worries.
In use: “Rocky was a simplefloof, happy with a toy, some kibble, and the company of humans or other animals.”
2. An animal whose foolish behavior or silly personality is often the subject of repeated stories for others’ amusement.
In use: “A sweet simplefloof, Peaky loved playing with a rubber worm but despised how it felt and tasted. She’d bat the toy across the room, then wash her paw before galloping over to the toy again. Whenever she picked it up in her mouth, she immediately dropped it, shaking her head. Yet, she’d pull the toy out of her little toy chest whenever it was put away.”
The water wheel turns and drops us into Saturday, June 25, 2023. June, precious boys and girls, is reaching the end of its walk. 2023 is over halfway through its life cycle.
Summer has arrived in Ashlandia, where the rock is old and the musicians are young. 59 F now, 84 F is within our reach if we but try — as if we can make it happen. Maybe we could but it’d need a collective will, and this isn’t the era of collective will. Small collective wills emerge to turn events but overall, we disagree on how and where we should direct our collective will.
Thunderstorms yesterday. My wife reported that she was outside reading in the back when they arrived. Tucker was to one side, in the yard, napping. Rain splattered down. She hurried in. Tucker didn’t even stir. Papi was already in the house, asking, “Did you hear those boomers? Wake me when it’s over.” He then stretched out in the dining room, where he was when I arrived. Wasn’t asleep, though. Nah, not when boomers are thudding and rumbling.
Sunrise today is about 5:33 AM in Ashlandia, and we’ll see the sun’s tail end at 8:52 PM. Only a matter of seconds difference from the ‘longest day of the year’ experienced on solstice, which is about the sunlight hours and not the day’s length, right? Can we all agree that the day remains roughly 24 hours? Today is 23 hours, 59 minutes, 59.9993680 seconds, if you’re wondering. h/t to timeanddate.com
I watched the first episode of “My Life As A Rolling Stone” last night. That one focused on Mick Jagger, one of the primary song writers, lead vocalist, and frontman of the band. Naturally The Neurons became very excited. “Oh, I know this song! And this one, too. And I remember this one.” Can’t say which is my favorite Rolling Stone ditty but “I Can’t Get No (Satisfaction)” is memorable for waking up my sleeping rock ‘n roll sensibilities waaayyy back in the mid 1960s, when I was getting more understanding ’bout who I was. So the song is logged into my morning mental music stream today where it hums ’round and ’round. The selected video epitomizes rock ‘n roll, too, with a large screaming crowd, Mick and the boys in strange attire, balloons dropping on everyone, and a fan rushing the stage only to get clocked by the guitarist, Keith. And the song played on.
Stay pos and keep being your fetching self. Coffee has been served for the faithful. Let’s get ready to ride. Here’s the music. Cheers
He wondered and worried, would hotel rooms begin emulating air travel pricing, monetizing everything? He wondered if there would be a day when he reserved a room but that doesn’t mean he has a room – just like buying an economy airline ticket or even rental cars (see Seinfeld for more). He can imagine going online to rent a room and being offered upgrades. Ten more dollars for both a bed and chair in the room on top of what you’re paying for a preferred floor and location, size, and view. Twenty-five more for pillows, sheets, and blankets. Go for the Deluxe Room Plus – it includes complimentary coffee and a television, just fifty dollars more.
As we slept, the overlords declared, “This will be Friday, June 23, 2023. Let us see how they take to the change.” So far as I can tell, the reality shuffle didn’t to anything to me, other than that flash in the night when the date and time was established. When you think about it, moving billions of people to another reality is impressive, especially as it takes so little energy and effort. They siphon off less than a quarter teaspoon of the needed energy off of every individual being shifted. Leaves a few people feeling groggy, sure. That’s why the overlords introduced us to coffee.
It’s a warmish June morning, 53 F right now. Heading up the scale to 80 F today. Thunderstorms were being mentioned yesterday when the weather they talked about the forecast. That word left their vocabulary now. Probably because they weren’t expecting the reality shift. Few usually are.
I was chatting with friends the other night. One is an unbridled cat fellow. The other is the father of a daughter who fosters. That’s what started the entire chat; she’d sent pix to him of her new foster. She’d already had a little singleton she was bottling feeding and bringing along. This week, another singleton was introduced so the poor little fellow has a play and cuddle buddy.
Remembering this convo this morning prompted The Neurons to inject David Bowie’s “Cat People (Putting Out Fires)” from 1982. A little rock, techno, and glam folded together, it was written for the movie, Cat People. Wouldn’t say the song is a ‘usual’ Bowie recipe; he frequently reinvented himself. No telling what he would come up with the next time a song or album was released.
Fire up your corporeal being. Stay pos. Drink some coffee, tea, etc., right? Something to light the body and spirit’s burners. Here’s the music. Liftoff.
He’d been thinking about a song earlier, a childhood favorite, reflecting, it’d been a log time since he’d heard it. Then he entered the car and headed to the coffee shop to write. Presto, the song came on the radio. Such delight. Such serendipity.
For the record, the song is “Lola”, straight out of 1970, when he was fourteen, by the Kinks. Just remembering that, he was right there, on the rear patio of the house on Laurie Drive in Penn Hills, enjoying summer sunshine with his friends and sisters.
It’s Thursday, June 22, 2023, according to most reliable data. We’re still sliding into summer mode in Ashlandia. 64 F now, the weather thinkers claim 84 F will be seen in Ashlandia. Last night at the beer ‘bibing, sitting outside, several men complained that the sun was too hot and changed seats to be in the shade. It was 78 F then. It was a wonderfully sun to me. I had no prob basking in its warmth. Maybe I’m part cat. Or part floof. Call me floofman. Sounds like the first line of a novel.
Our house floofs are certainly pleased that the sun’s heat made a comeback. Popping out the door into the backyard after eating, they sat in sunny pools, licking their lips and washing, pausing to look for a noise source or to eye a passing jay. It’s a sight like a calming tonic, seeing them in those relaxed activities. Sip some coffee and watch the cats while enjoying sunshine and relative quiet — distant machiney sounds — cars, trucks, lawnmowers and leaf blowers — crack the absolute stillness — is a fine way to launch a day.
The Neurons wadded up “Have A Nice Day” by the Ramones (1995) in the morning mental music stream. There’s some argument about when it was first used. In the last century, many people found it so trite and overused that it was empty. That’s exactly the Ramones’ point. The lyrics talk about hearing it after all kinds of bad things happen to him. Each time something happened, someone told the secret, “Have a nice day.”
Stay pos. Coffee help sustains me in that effort. Some days need more than others. Here’s the tune. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 