Month: October 2024

Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Exsundaypated

Another autumn day has been sprung on us in Ashlandia. We shouldn’t be surprised; it is October 13, 2024. Yet, here we are. Facing a blue sky and unimpeded sunshine, we’re braving 54 F right now. 77 F is on the way. All those gorgeous sunshine highlights the unabashedly fall foliage. It’s a good day for leaf peeping — leafping — if you’re into that. Even if not, it can be a pleasurable way to ease through this October Sunday. Our air quality is good.

I spent last night drilling through emails, blog posts, and articles as the Oregon Ducks defeated the Ohio State Buckeyes on national television turned on in my background. Most of the news can be categorized as ‘dumb shit Trump said or did’. Exasperating. But going through Crooks & Liars, I listened to Lennie Kravitz with Slash from GNR playing “Always on the Run” from 1991 on Jon Amato’s Late Night feature. Haven’t heard the song for a few election cycles and it simmered and stewed overnight. The Neurons put it on play in the morning mental music stream (Trademark running) this morning.

Just 23 days until November 5, 2024. It’s getting raw out there. Most pushback against Harris claiming victory comes as ‘reasoning’ masquerading as racism, sexism, fear, or bullshit. Like the folks whining, “I don’t now if she’s up to being President.” Doesn’t stop them from voting for a convict and failed President, though. They apparently think he’s up to being President even after many of his former staff declare that he isn’t. And that was when he was years younger. Now on the short end of his late seventies, he’s demonstrating many of the same issues that had people wringing their hands over President Biden returning to the White House.

I will say that AARP’s little political foray pissed me off in their mailer. They claim, ‘Oh, we’re non-partisan. We’re just giving both sides of the issues. Here’s what the candidates said.’ Paraphrasing for them.

Like, what a crock. Like Trump isn’t carrying the baggage of being a felon, on record for lying, lying, lying, and more lying. Like he didn’t take classified documents, lie about taking them, and refused to give them up, and then lied about that. Like Trump isn’t an ignorant blowhard who makes unfounded claims and accusations with every speech. Like Trump didn’t incite an insurrection and lie about it. Like Trump has any principles or values beyond how he can wring more money out of others for himself. Like Trump cares for anyone except himself.

Like Kamala Harris isn’t an accomplished individual. Like she wasn’t the Attorney General in California. Like she wasn’t a U.S. Senator. Like she hasn’t been Vice President for almost four years. Like she hasn’t articulated and written about her positions.

Hopefully, the people going through AARP’s piece will read and think about what Trump said, as most of it is vague promises and claims about how great he’s gonna make everything, just as he vaguely claims every year, every day, without changing much for the good.

Of course, I despair that anyone voting in this election is depending on AARP guidance after all the news being blared across the ether 24/7. But we know what kind of world it is and how some folks function. That’s why there’s a vein of undecided voters causing tremors about how the election will play out.

Be strong and positive. Vote blue in 2024. Vote for Kamala Harris for President. I’ve had some coffee, so I’m ready to go. Here’s the music video. Cheers.

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Winday’s Wandering Thoughts

The Starbucks lobby was locked. A sign said, “Sorry, lobby closed for maintenance.”

I considered Remix across the street. It was already busy and its seating had never suited me.

Back in the car, I headed to Noble’s on 4th, my other go-to place. I mostly mix it up between those two these months. My spouse has been campaigning for RoCo lately, so I veered over to East Main to hit it up.

I used to regularly visit RoCo. Named the Roasting Company back then I haven’t visited since BC; Before COVID. A small converted home, it was frequently packed. Outlets were limited and that’s needed for my power hungry laptop.

But my wife claimed it had changed. I trust my wife so I found parking and headed in.

She was right. Much lighter than it used to be inside, they’d added power strips screwed to the benches so outlets were plentiful. Not very crowded this day, either.

Classic rock played. Who can argue with Bowie, Pat Benatar, the Animals, the Mysterios, Stray Cats, and Pink Floyd providing background music?

A productive writing session was won. Of course, this is Saturday. Things change on weekdays. But it worked out today and I liked it, so I’ll try Monday. See if I have another good coffee writing session.

That’s what’s important.

3

Winday’s Political Thoughts

I read a disturbing Slate article today.

Remember that thing we used to learn about some truths being self-evident?

Under the GOP, that’s no longer directionally correct.

“The Wrong-Direction Election” by Ben Mathis-Lilley delineates exactly why the GOP has become so half-assed. It’s about being ‘directionally correct’.

Not familiar to you? ‘Directionally correct’ is a way of covering the GOP’s collective ass about Trump and Republican lying. Orwell is likely shaking his head in amazement. From the article:

“And being directionally correct—or sometimes directionally accurate—is, according to many of Donald Trump’s supporters, something that Donald Trump is very good at. His claims about trans athletes, immigrants, and the 2020 election might not be strictly true, these advocates say, but they are directionally so, because he’s talking about a real problem, or at least a feeling that there’s a real problem.”

Isn’t that precious?

The Republicans have become masters of bullshit. If I get the gist of it right, my saying that that the GOP are all unprincipled hypocritical, gun-loving, women-hating sexist, greedy, anti-democracy lying racist bigots, I’m directionally correct, because there’s at least a feeling that’s there’s a real problem with them and their lying campaigns in response to every critical moment in the nation’s recent history.

Take fer’instance if you will, their claim ‘Harris controls the weather’ and are ‘aiming it at red areas’. Or their bullshit (yes, let’s just call their lies and misinformation for what it is) that FEMA is being ordered not to help Republicans.

Or maybe I’m just directionally accurate.

Vote blue in 2024 so we can start cutting the heads of this monster.

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Winday’s Theme Music

Mood: windulated

It’s a windy beast out there this morning. Definitely a creature of autumn. Trees are shimmying and waving branches like they’re cheering on the University of Oregon Ducks football team.

It’s technically a Sattyday, or Saturday as they call it in some parts of the U.S., samedi in some other places. October 12, 2024. 64 with a lovely balminess riffing. Most of the sun action is obscured behind a cloudy gray monolith. Our air will tiptoe into the low to mid sevenities this day.

The cats are out there, trying to make out like they’re happy with the weather’s shape. But their dismayed whiskers reveal their truths, that this wind is disturbing their sleep, mussing their fur, and annoying them with its sounds. Whenever I go by a door or window and look out, they eye the house like they want back in. I will go back and see if that’s true. Both will probably come in. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) will stay but Papi will go back out. He has a short memory when weather is introduced as the topic.

You know who else doesn’t like the wind? DJ Trump dislikes the wind. The former President said some stuff about the wind at one of his rallies last week as part of his magic weave. This is lifted from a Huffpost article shared on Yahoo:

“The wind, the wind, it sounds so wonderful. The wind, the wind, the wind is, the wind is bullshit, I’ll tell you,” he said.

The crowed roared.

“It’s horrible, so expensive. Just too expensive. It doesn’t work. All of that to do y’know one tenth of one percent, I mean the whole thing is crazy,” he said.

Trump complained that wind power means people can’t watch television on days with no breeze.

He is right; the whole thing is crazy.

Speaking of wind, it’s a mess down in Florida after Hurricane Milton finished with them. Millions without power. Massive flooding. Sixteen dead, but people left homeless. Gas stations lack gas and alligators are swimming freely as a threat. President Biden has asked Congress to return to pass more funding for FEMA. Let’s see how the GOP reacts.

Moving on.

I have a friend with a fruitful fig tree, and she’s generous with its produce. After receiving pint after pint after pint of fresh, ripe figs, my wife baked a fig cake with a mix of almond and white flour. Excellent with coffee. I theorize it’d go well warm with a scope of vanilla bean ice cream as a dessert. But I’m having it this morning, cold with my coffee. Still fine riding on the taste buds.

All this wind thinking lends itself to songs about wind. I ended up with Kansas singing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark blown away). The Neurons agreed with the choice (although they did campaign for “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger and The Scorpions’ windy offering, “Wind of Change”. So here is “Dust in the Wind”, the 1977 progressive rock offering.

Stay strong, be positive, and vote blue in 2024. Rock on with your day. I’ve been rocking mine with coffee. Here’s the music. Cheers

Update: both cats came in and stayed.

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The Car & Suit Dream

Dreamed I came into a windfall of cash. The amount was never specified but I bought a new Porsche 718 spyder and paid cash.

Next, I purchased a Dior pewter gray suit. Though off the rack, it fit me perfectly. Oh, and this was a young thirtyish me. Along with the shirt, I bought new shirt, tie, and shoes. Wearing these things, I drove the car around. In one odd sign, however, I seemed larger than the car.

I stopped and exited the car to chat with some people I loosely knew. They admired my suit, guessing, “New?” Yes, I proudly answered. I realized I had the price tags attached. I fretted about my wife finding out how much I paid for the suit. I believed it was thousands but I couldn’t read the price tags. Each time I tried, something imposed to prevent that from happening.

I decided that I wanted to remove the price tags. I needed a knife or small snips. Looked for both, roaming around, but found neither. Did receive many more compliments about how the suit looked on me.

Getting back into the car to leave, I found that while the cockpit was as expected, the rest of the car was expanded to be an open-air bus filled with people. Didn’t surprise me. We were leaving a museum. I saw a woman who I wanted to intercept walking toward another vehicle exit. I decided I would circle around and chat with her.

“I just have one stop to make,” I told the rest. “Then we’ll be on our way and I’ll drop you off at your destination.”

I was driving down the road while making that announcement. Lovely day of blue sky, sunshine, and clouds. The roads were spacious and well-maintained, concrete with curbs, abutting parks, plazas, and museums. I circled right and went under an overpass and came back around to where I was.

That surprised me. I’d expected there to be a turn off that would take me over to the other road. I tried again — three more times in all — and met the same result. With the fourth time, my passengers said, “Oh, no, not again.

Asking for their indulgence, I gave it one more effort, but this time shifting over by one road which I’d noticed. That worked, taking me to where I wanted to be.

Dream end.

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Floofcronym

Floofcronym (floofinition) – Another name given to an animal based on the initials of words being used to describe their looks, personality, or behavior. Origins: 1940, first noted in Greece.

In Use: “The kitten was formerly known as Princess Go-Lucky, but soon became referred to more often as SAFT — Small and Fast Thief — with a penchant for stealing chips, cheese, and doughnuts whenever someone turned their back on their food.”

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Two Dreams of Helping

The first dream found me and my wife living in an apartment. A nice place, well lit, spacious, and quiet, it had some problems with ventilation and water, but I’d fixed them. However, one window gave me some trouble, so I went to adjust it.

I was surprised when I pulled back the window’s sheer curtains; another window, to another’s apartment was directly opposite, about a foot away. A man was over there. I easily looked into their pleasingly furnished place of overstuffed furniture (it was their living room) and then, as I thought was right, apologized to the man and made haste to shut the curtains and pretend they weren’t there.

But the woman, short, with thick, dark hair, was hurrying forward, calling, “Wait, wait.” So I did. She rushed up and asked, “How did you fix your ventilation?”

I had no real answer, explaining that I’d just kept tinkering with it. Impatiently, she interrupted, “Well, can you fix ours?”

Weirdly, there were then two other windows I could see in other people’s apartments. A woman was at each, a man behind them asking, “Can you also fix ours?”

I was taken back. I hadn’t done anything special that I could explain. I’d just kept addressing it. But I couldn’t tell them no; they wouldn’t let me. So I agreed to fix their places.

Dream end.

The next dream found me in a small square waiting room, darkish with heavy wood paneling. I’m not sure where people were waiting to go. I wasn’t waiting but just passing through. A woman escorted me through the room. I came across one individual, a man on the floor. Bearded with curly brown hair, he seemed almost lifeless.

“Oh, that’s Reardon,” the woman said when I asked about him. “He’s a lost cause. He doesn’t have a reason to go on.”

That upset me. Though the woman and I continued on through the room, Reardon stayed on my mind. I finally said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t just leave him like that,” and went back.

Getting to him, I just gave him a long hug and talked to him, telling him that he was special, and that he shouldn’t give up. Then I went on.

I next came back into the room. Much lighter than it was before, a door was open on the other end. People were filing out. Most were already gone. Looking around, I asked about Reardon. I was told that he had recovered and that he was about to go through the door. She said he was very happy with what I’d done and kept talking about me.

I hurried over, calling him as I did. I didn’t want him to have the wrong idea, which to me, was that I was in love with him. I don’t know why I was suddenly worried that this is what he’d believe.

I called his name when I saw him. He turned and greeted me. At least a foot taller than me, I was forced to look up at him. In his right hand was a thick fan of money, mostly $100 bills.

Seeing me, he grinned. “I know what you’re going to say. I know what you’re thinking. You think that I think I’m in love with you, but I’m not. I understand what you did. Honestly, it saved me.”

He offered me money as a gift. I declined, saying something else that I don’t remember. We hugged, my face to his chest. A woman at the open door said it was time for him to go. They were waiting on him. Reardon released me and went through the doorway.

Dream end.

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Friedigestion

Clouds and sky share uneven, uneasy streaks. Blue and white. A muted sun brings light but not much fresh heat. Shadows barely break out of the ground at the sun’s touch, faded dreams of being on the grass and asphalt. A smoky nuance curses the air’s freshness. I don’t know where the fire is but I suspect someone has their fireplace going.

This is autumn. This is fall.

It’s Friday, October 12, 2024. While we’ll see a high of 77 F, right now it’s 52 and feels more like 48.

Those shadow thoughts, along with dream remnants brought up a song by Joy Division. Joy Division was a group of hugh promise and potential in my eyes. I heard them while stationed at Brooks AFB in San Antonio, Texas, after returning from my Philippines assignment. San Antonio had a terrific rock FM station where I’d hear music way different from the chart busting rotation of the more commercialized stations.

“Shadowplay” from 1976 is circulating in the morning mental music stream (Trademark faded). Don’t think I’ve ever heard it on any venue outside of a movie once or twice. I didn’t have any Joy Division albums that I recall but many years later, when stationed in Germany, a friend had the album which featured this song. We listened to it and reminisced.

Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue in 2024. I’m working out some coffee now, testing how it fits in with my taste buds, see if it’s a keeper. Here’s the music. Cheers

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