Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Mood: flightrupted
It’s Thursday, May 30, 2024. Beautiful light blue sky with a little haze is outside the window. Sunny and 52 F.
I’m seeing the world through the Pittsburgh airport windows waiting for my Alaska Air flight. I was supposed to be leaving at 7:50 AM. About six minutes from now. Instead, estimated take off is now 9:18 AM.
That prevents me from my next leg, which was to be my final leg, Seattle WA to Medford OR. Now I’m going from Seattle to Salt Lake City to Medford. Instead of arriving about noon in Medord, I’m arriving about midnight. That sucks for my wife, who is picking me up.
Yeah, it’s all first world blues, innit? Still have food and a decent life. Just a series of bumps on this travel day, so I’m whining about it. I mean, I’m not out in a storm or getting shot at. I’m wired with a computer and reading the news.
And there’s a comic aspect. As I cope with these fight changes, the airline is urging me to start planning my next flight with them.
With this skewed schedule echoing in my head, The Neurons have Molly Hatchett performing “Flirtin’ with Disaster” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark delayed). The 1979 song isn’t quite right for the situation but I’d need to feed them more java before The Neurons will come up with something better.
Thank you to my sweetheart of a little sister and her daughter for getting up and picking me up and driving me to the airport. They’re both awesome people. They’re always doing things for me and treating me like a friggin’ prince, so I’m always in debt to them.
I’m coffeeing up. Stay positive, be strong, and lean forward. Let’s Vote Blue this year, shall we?
Here’s the music. Cheers
Mood: Cuspsized
Fog and a cool 58 F greeted Churchill Valley on Wednesday, May 29, 2024. Today’s high will be lucky to break 66 F. Thunderstorms are possible.
Thunderstorms hit us again last night. I was out at my sister’s house for dinner. My BIL was grilling some serious beef, shrimp, and chicken. The smell of rain lingered in the air. Chonky gray clouds cruised overhead.
Rain broke, soft at first, warning shots, but the serious stuff arrive about an hour later. Weather warnings lit the phones. An hour later, the storm had significantly decayed, but I encountered chunks of it while driving home.
I’m on the cusp of heading home. Flight is early tomorrow morning.
My feelings are on a trampoline of reactions. I look forward to being with my wife and fur buds. I look forward to taking on some adulting needs and getting to work on stalled projects.
But I’ll miss Mom and my sisters and BILs, and all the children. Sharing a time zone with them has been very satisfying.
I feel like the nation, even the world, is also on a cusp. Donald Trump’s criminal trial has reached the jury deliberations stage. Analysts, pundits, lawyers, and relatives are all given opinions about the outcome, and why. And then, regardless of the verdict, what’ll happen? We’re on the cusp of finding out.
We’re on summer’s cusp in the northern latitudes. Violent storms have been striking the U.S. Destruction is rising. Travel is disrupted. So are supply chains. 23 are dead in the U.S. People’s power has been cut off. Is this an aberration or the new climate change norm? We’re on cusp of learning.
Israel attacked Rafah on Sunday. ‘All eyes are on Rafah.’ What will happen there next? I’m not arguing the right of Israel to defend itself, the role of the U.S. and other nations, nor the reasons why Hamas launched their attack last October, triggering this latest season of death and destruction. I’m like many, wondering if we’re on the cusp of a greater conflagration.
While we’re at it, Russia continues its assault on Ukraine, and Ukraine fights back. The deaths mount. More NATO resources might get involved. Are we on the cusp of world war? Could this be the cusp of a long-feared nuclear war?
And we’re on the cusp in the U.S. of finding out how extreme the GOP will be to keep people from voting. We’re on the cusp of finding how much of democracy they’re willing to destroy to keep the voters silenced and stay in power.
Looks like we’re on the cusp of a long, historic summer.
Being on the cusp of so many possibilities incited The Neurons to fill the morning mental music (Trademark almost ready) with “Enter Sandman” by Metallic. I can see The Neurons’ reasoning: this summer could be a nightmare, and that’s what the 1991 sound is all ’bout.
Hey, ho, here we go. Be strong, stay safe, be well, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music video. My coffee tank has already been filled.
Cheers
Floofsize (floofinition) – To have something upended or knocked over by an animal. Origins: late 1890s, first noted in Mississippi.
In Use: “Karol the Terrorcat walked along the dresser, leaving floofsized bottles and items on the floor in her wake.”
In Use: “Galumpfh, originally named Wilson by the family’s youngest member, often floofsized furniture when he galloped through the house, shaking the floor with his floofnormous thunderpaws.”
Just read an article about Jennifer Lopez. She said that AI was used to show wrinkles on her face.
I think my mirrors at home have been using AI for years.
Floofraiser (floofinition) – Actions, sounds, or activities which will draw an animal’s attention or make them move. Origins: Mid 1960s, modern Floofish, first reported use in western Pennsylvania.
In Use: “Many people quickly find that cans opening or a kibble rattle are sure floofraisers, with animals galloping to the source as soon as they hear the sound.”
In Use: “The vacuum cleaner was a floofraiser for Barney, causing the big dog to hustle to another room floof haste, but Stormy merely yawned and dared the roaring machine to come closer to her.”
Mood: Cofflective
Here we go, Tuesday, May 28, 2024. Tornados have been messing with large swaths of the U.S. resulting in death and destruction. I’m thankful it’s milder here in the Churchill Valley, although it’s worrisome that lightning apparently struck a house and put it on fire.
Unevenly shaped, rough clouds muddle this morning’s pale blue sky. Sunshine skates in and out. It’s a cool but pleasant 60 F out. Today’s high will flex around 70 F. Thunderstorms and rain are in our close future.
Mom is doing well. Well is a relative term. She’s always expressing weariness and pain; those are regular life features for her. But she buzzed around the house, getting downstairs to do her laundry as only she can do it. She ate well. And she watched television, cursing Trump, wondering again who and why anyone would vote for “that thug”. ‘Idiot’ is sometimes subbed for ‘thug’. I need to remind her to do her property tax senior rebate.
After all the local holidays and birthday parties, I’m afraid that we’re running out of desserts. We only have remnants of angel food cake, a chocolate chip cake, coconut cream pie, an almost whole large apple pie, half of a tuxedo cake with chocolate mousse, and pecan sticky buns. It’s looking grim.
Tonight I visit with my sister’s family again. Tomorrow night is my nephew’s graduation. Thursday, I wing my way out of the area on an Alaska Air flight. Fingers crossed that all goes well with the flight and weather. I’m already working out the packing logistics to account for items added while here.
I ended up with “Stick Season” by Noah Kahan (2020) in the morning mental music stream (Trademark sharp). This almost stream of consciousness song about who the singer is after the changes wrapped up with a relationship’s end just mesmerizes me. It felt like a natural as I thought of my relatives’ lives, as well as my own, and where I’m at, and where they’re at. In our conversations about these things, struggles, failures, success, and frustrations were discussed, sometimes in short, sharp anecdotes and confidential revelations, but often through a long lens of reflection.
Let’s get on the move. Stay positive, be strong, and go forward. Also Vote Blue this year, okay? It’ll help us be strong and move forward.
Coffee is being gulped down and my pulse has resumed. Here’s the music. Have a strong day. Cheers
I heard thunder. Racing outside, I witnessed the end of a rain shower. Sunshine was back on the scene.
That delicious smell of rain-freshened air and earth pulled me in. Moving to the porch’s edge and look up into a deep well of dark gray clouds. Capping the view across the valley was a bold, full rainbow stretching over the entire scene.
A good way to finish a day.
Michael Seidel, writer 