Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I had a cavalcade of dreams last night. One stood out more strongly than the rest. I was in the military for over twenty years. Not infrequently, I find myself in the military again in dreams. It was so again last night.
In this one, I’d been selected for a new position. I was an E7 master sergeant, which is what I retired as. My predecessor, training me, was an E9 chief master sergeant. He was telling me that this position was a catapult to promotion if I do it right, and he thought I’d do it right. Hearing all that pleased me.
Then he gave me a black attaché case. “You’ll always be carrying this,” he said. “You are now the Russian nuke guy. That’s what everyone will start calling you.”
I’d had some idea of what I’d be stepping into even though it’d been a pretty close-hold process. They’d checked my security clearance and records, noted that I’d been on the Personnel Reliability Program because I’d controlled nukes. My top-secret clearance with all the tags of SI, SCI, TK and TQ that came with being associated with a covert intelligence program pleased them, too. Now I got why.
The Chief was explaining that I would be regularly briefed about anything and everything associated with Russia’s nuclear weapons. Locations, capabilities, changes, updates, whatever. Everything from personnel, process, and equipment. I’d be told everything, constantly. The idea was that I would be the national command authority’s primary go-to if any questions about Russia’s nukes came up.
Then he began taking me around offices, introducing me as ‘the new Russian nuke guy’, explaining that I was replacing him. Everyone shook my hand and welcomed me.
The dream ended while I was still in that process.
I have no idea what it all means but I found it weirdly reassuring, because I’d been selected. I was needed. That kind of thing feels validating, you know?
A young middle-aged woman is at a table with a middle middle-aged man. That’s how they appear to be experienced but amateur eye. Both are attractive. She’s in light grey yoga pants and he’s in khaki hiking shorts. He’s tall, with graying curly hair, while her brunette hair sweeps away from her face and lightly lands on her shoulders. The two are so average white people of the Pacific Northwest. I notice them in the same way as I note others in the coffee shop.
But then, what makes her memorable, after they disposed of their coffee cups at the busing station, she methodically moves through the coffee shop, straightening up the chairs. He goes over and stands by the door, waiting for her to finish. She joins him and they depart, leaving the tidy tables and chairs behind.
Mood: digitized
Get up and look out windows, judging the air’s color. Doesn’t look too bad. Some tinges of smok. A window is cracked opened. The sniff test is employed. Doesn’t smell too bad. The air feels cold.
I go on out into the living area and office, interrogate Alexa and checking my weather station, and then go online and check weather and air quality. It’s 64, and the AQI is in the sixties, not too bad. Doors and windows are opened and complaining floofs are released.
It’s Tuesday, July 23, 2024. Today’s high will be 96 F, so we’re not too bad. It’s the triple digit stuff that really gets to you.
My wife departs to meet some friends at the Growers Market. Yeah, they don’t use an apostrophe. Sirens erupt. Systems are checked to see, where are they going? What’s going on? I printed out the evacuation checklist yesterday. You know, just in guess. It’s sitting here beside me. We always have basic bags ready but maybe we should prepare the whole shebang. Just in case. It’s hot and dry here. Lightning can strike and ignite something without warning. Something to consider.
Out in the news world, it’s no surprise that the Secret Service Director resigned. They were being hounded and the GOP was openly, sharply hostile. That’s their style.
A headline says, “World registers hottest day ever recorded on July 21”. Wasn’t that hot here in Ashlandia. We seem to be contrarians. The article goes on, “Last year saw four days in a row break the record, from July 3 through July 6, as climate change, driven by the burning of fossil fuels, drove extreme heat across the Northern Hemisphere.
Every month since June 2023 – 13 months in a row – has now ranked as the planet’s hottest since records began, compared with the corresponding month in previous years, Copernicus said.
Some scientists have suggested 2024 could outrank 2023 as the hottest year since records began, as climate change and the El Nino natural weather phenomenon — which ended in April — have pushed temperatures ever higher this year.
I imagine Republicans pooh-poohing the news and laughing. In this visual, it’s my staunch BIL MAGAt representing them. “It’s the weather,” he says loudly, shrugging, gesturing with his hands. “It’s always changing. It gets hot, it gets cold, big deal. You liberals.”
Yeah, we liberals are worrying about nothing except the increase in record temperatures — high and lows — and the acceleration of extreme weather. We’re worried about increased flooding and wildfires turning the air dark with smoke. We’re worried about increasing extended droughts and melting glaciers.
Tsk. So silly of us.
The music occupying my morning mental music stream (Trademark iffy) owes its presence to my wife. She was online, surfing. “Oh, I like that,” she says.
I do my spousal duty. “What is it?”
“This tee shirt. It says, I am woman, watch me vote.”
“Yes, that’s good.”
The Neurons pounced. I am woman, hear me roar, in numbers too big to ignore, begins. “I Am Woman”. Helen Reddy. 1971. As I often do with celebrities I haven’t heard or seen in a while, I verify her life status. Died in 2020, 78 years old. No cause of death given.
This is life in the digital age.
The song took on its own life as a anthem of female empowerment back in that last century, when the U.S. was becoming a more progressive nation. I was present at a rally in Caifornia when the female protestors spontaneously sang it A capella. Powerful moment down on Market Street in SF.
The house is cool. Thermostat says it’s 76 F inside. Feels good. I go around closing windows, sealing in the cool air for the day.
Be strong, stay positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has endorsed my systems. I’m ready to rock. Here’s the music. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 