Science fiction, fantasy, and mystery writer. Singer (sorry, no shows) & nudist (in my home). Beer, cat, cheese, coffee, pie and wine friend. Left IBM and Silicon Valley for the southern Oregon life but I miss the ocean. We're too far inland. Gotta move.
Those of a certain age may recall the saga of New Coke. Once upon a year, Coca Cola changed its soda drink recipe and announced with a blaze of commercials that they’d changed Coke, and wanted you to drink this New Coke. Turns out many had been happy with old Coke, which quickly became framed as ‘Classic Coke’. My wife and I don’t drink soda except for root beer once in a while, so we witnessed the battle of New Coke vs. Classic Coke from the side.
I was thinking of it this morning because of Dawn. Dawn is a dishwashing liquid soap. We use it at our house. I bought a new bottle the other day and saw today that it has a label declaring that it has a “New Clean Smell.”
After smelling it, I wanted the old dirty smell. The new smell has a chemical scent that annoys me. Could be that the hyperbole just irritated me.
If they had said nothing, I’d probably wouldn’t have noticed. But since they called my attention to it, give me the old scent.
Sunshine jumped over the hills and in through the windows, lighting up the trees against a blue sumumn sky. Although we’re ranging through the mid fifties now as the sun’s air kisses the air, we’ll be striking the mid to upper 70s by day’s end.
Cut the grass yesterday. We have one large section of it which is something called clover. Bees were busily jumping from clover to clover so I left that nine square feet uncut so they could do their thing. I’ll cut it once they’re done. Not a big deal to cut the grass, as I use an old mechanical push motor. No gas or electricity needed.
At 6, we headed to the OSF Green Show to see one of our favorite local bands, The Rogue Suspects. The sun was dropping and the tempertures was sifting through the low 70s, providing a wonderful venue for enjoying music. As expect, per usual, they put on an excellent show, featuring songs from the Pointer Sisters, B-52, Journey, Huey Lewis and the News, and other bands and performers out of the last century.
Today The Neurons have “Fix You” by Coldplay going in the morning mental music stream (Trademark broken). Weirdly, I have featured this song twice before, both times in September. Must be a September song, right? Curious, I checked; released in September, 2005.
Papi drew the song into my head this morning. The other night, he was acting listless and uninterested in his food. That’s unusual for the feline known as the ginger blade. Six times out of ten, he comes in and heads right to the food bowls. Three other times, he’ll come over to me for skritches. Once, really less than one time out of ten, he’ll come in due to weather, loud noises, or something else disturbing his force, and head into the bathroom to chill.
This time, he came in and went over to a corner and settled. I took food to him. He sniffed as if interested but passed.
Okay, this is a cat who experienced a life-threatening bout with triaditis before. I informed my wife about my concerns and we made plans to keep him in overnight and keep watching him.
Later that night, he wanted out. No, I told him, not until I see you eating. I checked the food bowls put out for him: untouched.
I fed him the next morning. He showed some interest and ate a little. No vomiting, and he was acting closer to normal. A Churru was given him, and he lapped that up. After drinking water, he came to me and purred. His tail rose a bit, more like his normal self. I made him some kibble slurry — warmish water with kibble. Starting hesitantly, he lapped up most of that.
Anyway, to finish, he’s jaunting around with his tail up today, eating in his normal style, and meowing and purring per usual. Talking to him after he ate all the breakfast provided him, I told, “I’m happy we were able to fix you.” Lo, Der Neurons cranked it up.
Be strong, stay positive, lean forward, and vote blue in 2024. I’m doing the same. Coffee has been warming my innards. Time for the music, with Michael Fox joining them. Cheers
Confloofgence (floofinition) – The coming together of floofs; a unity among floofs. Origins: first noted use in New Floofland, 1860.
In Use: “The dog, cat, and kitten sitting together on the kitchen floor waiting to be fed was a moment of pleasing and historic confloofgence for Kamala, who never thought she’d see harmony among the floofs.”
Thursday, September 19, 2024, kicked off split between sunshine. One end of the sun was bathed in refreshing warm gold light. The other end was dim, caught in shadows. The situation is slowly changing as the sun lifts over the barriers and heaves into the sky. Which, accidently, sounds like the sun might be puking up there.
58 F here and now, we have blue skies in the main, with some haziness coalescing along the horizons, especially to my west, where the valley flattens out. Yesterday presented us with a gorgeous warm but not overbearing afternoon of sunshine and breezes. Today might duplicate the results, with a high of 79 F being batted around.
Speaking of weather, I’ve been reading about the U.S. healthcare system’s ranking compared to like countries. Yes, that’s a non-sequitar, ain’t it? Few should be surprised that our nation was ranked last, with higher costs, lower levels of service, less access to care, and shorter life spans. I find the comments of Dr. Joseph Betancourt, President of the Common Wealth Fund, relevant.
“This report reveals that our health system is continuing to lag far behind other nations when it comes to meeting our citizens’ basic health care needs. The US spends more on health care than any other country, and Americans are sicker, die younger and struggle to afford essential health care. We spend the most and get the least for our investment.”
“As a primary care doctor, I see the human toll of these shortcomings in our system on a daily basis. I have patients who need medications they can’t afford. I spend time going back and forth with insurance companies who have denied care I know my patients need, and I see older patients who arrive sicker than they should because they’ve spent the majority of their lives uninsured.”
Reading newspaper, magazine, and online articles, I’ve encountered the story he tells again and again. Worse, the laws and actions the GOP and the right wing are initiating are compounding health issues for women by inserting the state and religious views into the transactions. Neither have a need to be there, and both are detrimental to good health practices. Trump and his concept of a plan would most likely worsen the situation, as he’s for business, against government, and has little empathy for the middle class and below. This fuels our need to vote blue in 2024.
We ordered six more Harris-Walz yard signs last night. These are earmared for friends who are looking for yard signs. One woman said she’s putting on on her fence, facing her Trump-supporting neighbor. All turned down bumper stickers. This is a blue to purple area, with a lot of red inflammation around the edges. My friends stated that they have real concerns about what those MAGAs would do to them or their car; yes, we’ve seen the videos and heard the threats MAGAs like to issue.
Without great surprise, I read of an EPA IG report that said top EPA officials had retaliated against whistle blowers. This was done under the previous administration.
Ah, moving on through the morning. I have Jackson Browne singng “The Pretender” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark calloused). The Neurons brought it up when I was sipping coffee, watching cats wash after they’d eaten, studying the line of the morning sun moving across the backyard. Then the songs’ lines came up, “And when the morning light comes streaming in, we’ll get up and do it again.” Yep, that’s where I stand. Time to do it again.
Be strong, stay positive, test negative, and vote blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Cheers
Matt Lewis is the author. He writes a reasonable column about a reasonable question, if the subject, Donald J. Trump, was a reasonable person with reasonable self-control.
But Trump has shown himself not to be a reasonable person. He’s revealed himself to be petty. He’s demonstrated that he lacks self-control. The governor on his mental processes seems seriously damaged.
And that’s why he should not be POTUS: because he can’t stop himself from instigating and pursuing petty fights. A petty person is not what we need as the leader of our nation.
It’s a recurring theme for me. I see old people and wonder what they were like when they were young, and I look at young people and wonder, what will they be like when they’re old.
Like her, in the floppy sun hat, green pants, and multiple pastels scarves, short grey blonde hair and wire-rimmed round gold glasses. When did she become that person?
Or take her for example, the blonde early tweener with blue hair and fringe bangs, dressed all in black, with a long-sleeved shirt and tight shorts, white crew socks, and white canvas shoes. She’s a gregarious presence in her small knot of companions. What will she be like in the future?
Weird thing: thirty-five customers by my count in the coffee shop. Four of us are male. Two of the men are working on computers. It looks like the women are all socializing.
Contemplating the dynamics and speculating about people is an attractive way of engaging my mind as I sip coffee and the muse comes to write.
Sunshine burst in, a sumumnal morning surprise, antidote to the gray chilly dominance of the previous days. 53 F here now, the sun is expected to induce the air into the mid 70s before the world turns.
This is Wednesday, September 18, 2024.
Got our new insurance done yesterday. After doing quotes online, reading and reading and reading, and speaking with others, we ended up with State Farm. One, as some suggested, there’s a local agent. Two, they’ll provide the insurance we need at a reasonable cost. Three, in the aftermath of the huge Almeda fire several years ago, which destroyed hundreds of homes and businesses, friends raved about how well State Farm handled the situation.
That done, I called American Family Insurance to cancel. Auto insurance cancellation was an eyeblink — or, thanks for calling, have a pleasant evening. Home insurance, she thoroughly identified me and the property in question. Next, she said that she needs to bring up a script to read me. She told me she was going to record the transaction, and was I okay with it? Then she ran through a script which verified again my identification and the property and the flat fact that I was canceling my insurance with them.
I get this. It’s an age of scammers and cheats and pranks. Anyone could theoretically call in, claim to be me, and cancel my insurance. They could do it just to be assholes. Anyway, the company was protecting itself. But it also protects me.
When I finished, I felt like comfort food was in order. Lot of stress and anxiety in researching insurance and making that change and the multiple decisions involved in prices, coverage, and options. It’s serious adulting. But the comfort food was skipped. Sitting there, reflecting as we went through it, I compared it to how it was when I was younger. When income was less and savings were thinner.
The agent remarked on our history. Almost twenty years with that other company and no claims made on home or auto. Yeah, don’t jinx us, I said. Knock on wood. He found it remarkable. My wife, laughing, said it was because we’re boring. I think it’s a blend of caution and luck.
If you know anything about reading this blog, you won’t be surprised to discover that thinking about luck cause Der Neurons to start firing with songs about luck and being lucky. It abated overnight but this morning found them playing Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers in the morning mental music stream (Trademark lucky). The 1982 song, “You Got Lucky” is playing in snatches around eating, nursing coffee as it nurses me, and reading, writing, and thinking. The song is about love and relationships but as a general song about being lucky and how good luck can affect your life, it works. I’ll take good luck whenever it comes and will try to dance around the bad luck when it happens.
Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue. Just 48 days until November 5.
Michael Seidel, writer 