Sunday’s Wandering Thoughts

Calvin is a local barista. He* dyed his hair pink last week. For the past several days, his name tag has Charlotte on it.

My brain reacted, “Charlotte? Really?”

Then it said, “Charlotte. Okay.”

His name is Charlotte, and my name is Michael. It’s that simple.

*While some people specify their pronouns on their name tags, I’ve not seen anything on Charlotte’s name tag.

Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: lokey

This is Sunday, June 30, 2024, and it’s begun as another chilly, comfortable morning. No smoke discolors the sky or assaults the nose. Sheer, lacy clouds sheet some sky aspects, and the temperature is holding in the mid sixties. A high of 86 F has been proposed, all of which fashions June’s final 2024 appearance as a comfortable summer Ashlandia day.

Warning’s are out, though. Gonna get hot next week. 90 on Tuesday, 96 Wednesday, 102 F on Thursday. Get ready. Summer is searing in.

The cats, in a weirdly unanimous decision, moved to the front yard to do their daily napping — I mean, sentry duty. Nothing has changed in the back but they decided that the front is the place to be. Like the back, the front has several traditional floof spots (which, by the way, isn’t related to the g spot). The prime space is just off the porch by the pillar, under a bush. The secondary space, which sees more action when it’s wet or cold, is on the porch’s other side, right of the door, by the cairn.

We like cairns and put one together one year yonks ago and have kept one ever since. Gets knocked over often, especially when the cats are napping by it. The eaves hang over that spot and it’s right against the house, so they’re protected from wind and wuthering there.

Their third place is catty-corner from the porch (see what I did there) about eight feet away from it, under another set of bushes. Tucker has the primary space covered, and Papi is in the teritiary spot.

While I was thinking about my dreams and doing the breakfast routines, train songs began playing in morning mental music stream (Trademark baking). First was Ozzy with “Crazy Train”, then Aerosmith with “Train Kept A-Rollin'”, followed by “Peace Train” by Yusuf. As I politely inquired of The Neurons, “WTF, why are train songs going through my head, I haven’t heard nor seen trains for days,” they began playing Train songs — “Soul Sister”, “Meet Virginia”, “Drops of Jupiter”, and then “If It’s Love”.

That brought a reflective nuance into the proceedings. Admittedly, coffee may have triggered that, for I was dropping the brew into my gullet by the mouthful by that point. I often hear “Soul Sister”, “Meet Virginia”, and “Drops of Jupiter” on the radio, but I don’t hear “If It’s Love”. Of course, I mainly heard that song when I was in the SF Bay area. Released in 2010, I was still travelin’ on business (TOB) in those days. My team was located in Mountain View and I was visiting them for three days every month, a face time bonding thing. Anyway, “If It’s Love” by Train is the theme song du jour. Admittedly, every time I think of its title, I now hear “Is This Love” by Whitesnake. I swear, my brain is all over the place today.

Stay positive, be brilliant, remain strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee service has ended, so move along. Here’s the music. Cheers

Floofturbance

Floofturbance (floofinition) 1. The act of an animal interrupting an activity or a state of calm. Origins: 13th century, Flemish Floofish

In Use: “The summer’s peaceful evening broke up with a floofturbance out front as two dogs staged a bark-off.”

In Use: “Knowing it would gain attention they could leverage for what they wanted to get, the three house floofs comenced a floofturbance.”

2. Disrupting an animal’s repose or usual procedure or order.

In Use: “A glass bowl slipped out of Becca’s hands and fell to the floor, shattering with an ear-splitting sound and created a floofturbance which sent the cats and dogs sprinting in four different directions — except for Arnold, who leaped up and emphatically barked, “Woof,” just once.”

Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

I saw an article about a man in Florida getting bit by a shark while fishing. I wondered, how did it happen? Was he wading? It made more sense that he was fishing in a boat in that area, but that opened the incident to more questions, like, did the shark jump into the boat? But as I began reading, I thought, if the shark jumped into the boat, that would have been the headline: “SHARK JUMPS INTO BOAT, BITES MAN”.

Satisfying myself about what had happened, I went on to other news. A few minutes pass and then my wife says, “Man fishing in Florida gets bit by shark. How did that happen? Did the shark jump into the boat?”

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: dubious

Chilly morning at 57 F under deep blue skies. It’s Saturday, June 29, 2024. A little smoke comes in through the northern windows, irritating my eyes and forcing sneezes out of me. Several wildfires are burning within a few hours of us; don’t know of any local ones, but smoke on the wind always takes me to the net to get updates. Supposed to reach 87 F today, which is a satisfying temp, continuing a week of mild summery weather.

I asked AI where the smoke we’re experiencing is coming from. AI responded with suggestions about two old fires from several years back. I’m like, WTF, really? AI also suggested that it could be cars, fossil based fuels, or neighbors could be burning wood in their stoves and fireplaces to keep warm. Finally, AI suggested it could be manufacturing. Thanks, AI. Damn fine job.

It’s a Saturday and the news cycle is slow. Supremes are saying that we should have a ruling on Trump’s immunity case on Monday. I’m eager to read and hear how that goes as there are tremendous ramifications associated with it. All the lower courts said as directly and quickly as possible, “No, you don’t have immunity,” but it’s hard to say what to expect with this Supreme Court. A heavily conservative court, they manage to really twist history, logic, and law. Besides that, three appointments on the court owe their positions to Trump, so there are questions about how objective these appointees can be.

Besides that, one, Justice Thomas, has been receiving high-end luxury vacations given to him by wealthy Republicans. He didn’t bother reporting most of these and seems arrogantly indignant that any of this could be tit-for-tat payments. Doesn’t help his image that his wife, Ginni, is a MAGA who insists that the 2020 election was stolen, and actively engaged with others to come up with ways to keep Trump in the White House.

Besides, we have Justice Samuel Alito who gives all kinds of appearances of being partial to right wing ideology and a willingness to aid and advance right wing causes. He and his wife flew the US flag upside down at their house to show their distress about the 2020 election being stolen and lied about how it happened. Sam, being a noble fellow, blamed his wife and said he had nothing to do with it and couldn’t do anything about it. They also flew a MAGA sympathizing flag at their vacation place for a few weeks, but he knows nothing ’bout it. That would be enough for many to wonder about Sam’s objectivity in cases regarding Trump, but to seal concerns, he was caught on tape showing more of his right-wing, religious ideology.

After all these red flags and how this Supreme Court has thrown previous legal precedents out the window, we’re all left wondering what they’ll decide.

The house floofs inspired my morning mental music stream (Trademark riffing) inhabitant. Tucker and Papi teamed up to drag me out of bed. I needed dragging because I wanted more sleep. Nope, wasn’t happening. Papi, per his habit, enters the room and yells a request and then goes down the hall. Tucker gets more personal and proximal about it. After bellowing yowls, he gets on the bed, walks up to my head, and starts tapping me, grumbling as he does. I mollified him with some sleepy scritches. He settled down and purred. I headed back to sleep but Papi revisited, yelling several times that he needed something.

With that background, I was head mumbling about how the cats get what they want, which led to The Neurons playing the part of “Heart and Soul” where Huey Lewis sings, “You see, she what she wants.” As I acknowledged the song’s presence, Huey Lewis and the News began doing their whole 1984 cover of the song. So that’s today’s theme music.

Be strong, lean forward, Vote Blue, and stay positive. Here’s the music; sorry, the coffee is already gone, circulating among the neurons. Cheers

Occuflooftion

Occuflooftion (floofinition) – An activity engaged with an animal. Origins: 14th century French floofish.

In Use: “Derek declared himself as ‘not a cat person’ to his wife but after the kittens came and demonstrated an aggressive and fearless willingness to attack anything, Derek’s primary relaxation at home became an occuflooftion like feeding the cats, playing with them, or napping together.”

In Use: “As Barb aged, she adopted an energetic puppy, and walking him become a time-consuming but enjoyable occuflooftion.”

End of World Dreams

I’m covering two of my three end of world dreams from last night. First, these dreams had very dark settings. Most of the first one took place underground or at night.

Another aspect that fascinated me about the dreams was how it combined elements of my military career with my IBM employment. Trippy mind work going on there. And now, the dreams.

I was working for IBM and it wasn’t going well. Exhausted from working and trying to save our division, many of us were sleeping at work, going twenty-four hours to try to save it. But we’d run out of time and knew the division was going to be shut down. Worse, and more surreally, we realized that the world was ending. How and why it was ending, the dream never covered. But this was something I knew, and was continually in the back of my dream mind.

To start, I’d been sleeping on the floor in my work office. It’s totally dark. I have a few private possessions and clothing, and that’s it. Voices awaken me. I listen and recognize our division director dismally describing the situation: world ending, division ending, shutting down. We were hanging on to our jobs because it gave us some hope that something could be done to stop the end of the world. Now he’s saying, we failed.

His comments stir me into a restless fit. I pace, trying to brainstorm about what we can do. Crazy ideas emerge but nothing sensible. I want to go talk to him about it, so I dress and head out, tracking him down.

The office area is built on a rock-strewn coastline. I clamber over rocks to find the director. He vaguely knows me. I throw out some ideas and he thanks me but tells me, they’ve already shot down those ideas because we don’t have the resources. It’s all dark doom and gloom.

I wander into another section and find an unused office. Turns out, the IBM offices are built on top of an old military base. The office used to be a missile control center. Finding a key, I put it into a dusty receptacle and turn it.

From elsewhere, I hear alarmed chatter that there are lights on: a missile is firing. I’m horrified to discover that I’ve turned a key to launch a nuclear missile. I’m also shocked; apparently, this one was overlooked when the nukes were removed. I frantically attempt to turn back the key but fail. Finding the director and other people, I try to reassure them that the nuke won’t detonate because it wasn’t armed, but I’m not sure. I’m pretty certain that high explosive are in the warhead and will detonate. I speculate that could cause the nuke to go off.

I run out to watch it. The missile launches into the dark sky. Huge ocean waves are crashing into the buildings, tearing them down. Shouting warnings to others, I climb the slippery rocks and escape.

Time slips past. I’m now surviving with three other men in the remaining office complex. We walk around setting small fires to keep warm and looking for food. We’ve found a cache, so we’re not too worried. I’ve also found a radio and keep tuning it, attempting to pick up radio stations and get some news. I worry about some of the fires they’ve set because they’ve put them under wall calendars and posters, which are catching fire.

“So?” Others ask. “What’s going to happen? We’ll burn down the building? It’s the end of the world.” Although I understand what they’re saying, I’m thinking that they have a bad attitude about surviving.

We drift out of the building to find other survivors. We end up in an underground tunnel in a yellow taxi. I’m driving. The tunnel is dully lit with dim yellow lights. To proceed further, we need to stop at a toll gate. There are three lines. Two lines are hugely backed up. The third has no one waiting. We pull up to the gate for the third ine. I get out to talk to the gate attendant, a short, swarthy guy, and ask him, “Can we use this gate? We don’t have any money — “

He interrupts me by showing me a finger, wait. As this happens, a blond woman in a green skirt comes up and reminds the gate attendant that the gate we’re at is to only be used by VIPs and emergency personnel. She leaves and he turns to me and says, “Now you can.” I understand him to mean we can use it because she’s gone. I thank him and asks, “But how much does it cost?” He replies, “No charge.”

I awaken and think all that through. Falling back asleep, I have another dream about the end of the world. It’s burning, and I know it’s ending.

Another dream begins, and I’m with the other three men again. We’re just leaving the toll gate and enter a building. In there, we find some other people and plentiful supplies, including alcohol. We basically decide to drink and get drunk. Why not? The world is ending.

We’re sitting around drinking and hear the outer door open. Investigating, we find four woman entering. They tell us they were looking for someone to party with since the world is ending. We tell them that we have alcohol and invite them to join us. They agree, and men and women pair off.

My companion is a short, chubby woman. She and I begin making out but she becomes morose about the of the world and starts crying. I try consoling her with hugs and some positive statements but she goes on about how so many people are gone and it’ll all be over soon, which is why she and her friends were looking for someone to party with. She and I go back to the main room, where the others are also arriving. All have had the same situation, that the women are sad and crying. They live.

Dream end. I awoke and realized with surprise that it was part of the first dream because of the background situation, my companions, and the setting.

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