Sometimes I feel like we’re just two surfers passing by on the web.
Sunday’s Theme Music
Mood: spacey
The numbers are in for today, Sunday, June 9 2024. 55, 65, 83, our low, current, and expected high for Ashlandia, all in F. The numbers show that our sprummer run remains intact.
My cats are doing well. Still lovin’ sprummer. Tucker has been reborn. But that encourages him to think he’s a young ‘un. Now he wants to spend all his time outdoors. “No,” I tell him. “You’re an elderly housefloof. You’re better off indoors.”
“YOOOWWWLLLL!” he shouts back. “YOOOWWWLLLL. MeeeOWWWLLLL.” He’ll do this until my wife or I leap up and open the door, telling Tucker, “Fine, go get eaten by a cougar but don’t complain to us when it happens. We tried to tell you but you won’t listen.”
Tucker usuallly replies with a haughty, “Murpf.” Everyone owned by a cat knows what murpf means.
It’s National Donald Duck Day FYI. I’m not celebrating it, myself. I’m sure it’s a big deal to someone on this world.
No, I’m celebrating Space Appreciation Day. This is not the same as National Space Day, celebrated in May. Space Appreciation Day is not about the region beyond Earth’s atmosphere or all that ‘out there’ in the dark, starry night.
Space Appreciation Day is about private space. Leg room and elbow room during air travel or in movie theaters. Or room in bed to turn over without leaving the mattress. That’s what Space Appreciation Day, often shortened to SAD, is all about.
Take, for example, writing at the coffee shop. SAD comes into its own there. I don’t want to hear others’ phone calls. First, I’m usually only hearing one side of it, forcing me to provide the other end. Like:
“It’s scheduled for tomorrow afternoon,” I hear in the coffee shop. Which I fill in to mean, the contract killer is making the hit.
Nor do I want to be a close party to others’ sneezes. Likewise, I don’t want to share my sneezes with others because I see the accusing, wary looks they use afterward. (“What does THAT guy have? He looks like he migh be dying. Maybe I should leave or mask up.”) Ideally, I’ll have a radius of twelve feet between me and anyone else in the coffee shop. And that’s what I pray for when I dance and make sacrifices to the Gods of Space on SAD.
The Neurons wanted to play along but when I thought about space and the distance between me and other objects, they came back with the realm outside of planets’ atmospheres. So I ended up with Muse singing “Starlight” from 2006 in the morning mental music stream (Trademark out there).
Be strong and positive, and enjoy your SAD, however you decide to celebrate it. Vote Blue 2024. I’ve begun the coffee ingestion process, and we have lift off. Here’s the music. Cheers
Xenofloobia
Xenofloobia (floofinition) – A condition where an animal’s hatred or intense dislike about other animals causes them to behave aggressively. Origins: New Floofin, early 19th century. Related: Xenofloofic
In Use: “Many people owned by floofs with non-compete clauses to their living situation exhibit xenofloofbia, growling or issuing angry indignation at the trespasser through the window whenever any other creature enters their domain in any capacity.”
In Use: “Karen didn’t know the extent of her cat’s xenofloobia until the little critter met another cat at the door and launched a yowling charge.”
Saturday’s Theme Music
Mood: Sumflective
Good morning, internetters. Welcome to June’s Second Saturday, June 8, 2024. If you’re like us, we celebrate Second Saturday in June. Holiday or not, we start with feeding the cats because the little dears will pester us into surrender. Yes, they have ‘just in case’ kibble in bowls and nevermind that they didn’t eat all of the previous tinned food in bowls. The tinned food bowls are cleaned and fresh stuff is spooned in for their dining pleasure.
Once we’ve taken care of the floofs, the real festivities begin. We start with coffee. While that’s soaking my system, I make my breakfast because my wife doesn’t eat breakfast for several more hours. Next, I dress. Sometimes a load of washing clothes is started for Second Saturday. The floor was vacuumed for First Friday, so no need for that today. We just go around picking up leaves and sticks floofs carried in for us, along with food they somehow transported around the house from their eating areas, along with fur and hair they’ve dropped along the way. Next, our family traditionally gets on the computer to get a Second Saturday news update, you know, see who died, who has gone to war, who has been convicted, and what new natural disasters have struck. Then we’re free to celebrate Second Saturday by washing the car and running errands. It’s a joyous day.
This Second Saturday is also the Green Bag pickup, so our bag full of supplies for the local food bank is on the porch, awaiting pickup by volunteers who transport it to the sorting and distribution center.
Our sprummery weather continues. It’s 67 F now, up from our 56 F starting point but eighteen degrees below our expected high in Ashlandia, where the creeks and rivers are flowing and full — for the moment. Sunlight is missing kissing some clouds rear end, but a friendly cool breeze is circulating, placating the likes of me. I enjoy a cool sunny morning so long as it’s not too cool. This day is just right.
I have two net friends who had floofs pass away yesterday. Thinking about their losses after expressing something toward to them, a song from 1993 filled the morning mental music stream (Trademark upended). Sarah McLachlan wrote “Possession” in response love letters from her fans. I think The Neurons pulled it out of memory more for the song’s reflective sound about yearning, love, and hope.
Stay positive, remain strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Summer is coming. Well, in the northern hemes. South of zero, winter is coming.
Here’s the music. Coffee is being sucked up. Enjoy your Second Saturday. Cheers
Friday’s Theme Music
Mood: coffeenated
It’s blue skies and sunshine forever for Friday, June 7, 2024, from my Ashlandia place on the town’s southern realms. Sprummer is holding strong but summer is leaning in. Air feels fresh and comfortable at 79 F, but we’re expected to climb the ladder to over 90 F before the sun delivers its final daily ration.
Mom has her new hospital bed. She seems pleased with it but. Yes, one but is that she claims it’s eleven feet long. Huh? Second criticism is that the mattress (which she says is plastic) is hard and uncomfortable. My wife warned me about that so I’ve ordered a topper for Mom. It’ll arrive tomorrow.
The weather’s sunny disposition pleases Tucker and Papi. They eat a few breakfasts in the morning and then take to the outdoors. Finding a comfy place, they sack out. Their comfort level goes to eleven on a scale of one to ten. After evenings long shadows spread, they come back in for more food.
I spent some time this morning reading news reports about the findings of the judiciary watchdog Fix the Court and how much Justice Clarence Thomas has been given over the years by his wealthy friends. Later, the Supremes released their own financial disclosures. Justice Thomas received more by far in number of gifts and their value. They weren’t cheap but we’re assured that they’re wholly innocent. My snark alarm immediately lit up, with my brain clamoring, “Sure, he wasn’t affected by expensive trips and baubles. No one ever is.”
Meanwhile, since I’d not had coffee at that moment, The Neurons introduced “Moneytalks” by AC/DC from 1990 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark bidding open). While the song is about a woman being attracted to wealth and how wealth affects judgement, ‘money talks’ as an idiom seems like it’s been around as long as money has been around. It’s the popular belief that having money opens doors, solves problems, and buys favors. In short, the wealthy are above the rest of us because their money affects outcomes. They can bribe their way to avenues the rest of us dream about, and they use their money to curry favors and get out of jams.
Yet, we’re to believe that friends like Harlan Crowe paid for Clarence and Ginny’s $160,000 cruise around the Greek Islands in 2007 because Clarence and Ginny are such awesome people. I’m certain that it’s just me because I’m a mad cynic, but I think deals like that are to gain subtle control over people. You know, tit for tat. It may not be bribes but it sure feels like buying influence.
Be positive and stay strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. The power of coffee is reverberating through my body. Let’s do this! Here’s the music. Cheers
Friday’s Wandering Thoughts
Some website claimed, “You’re getting old if you can identify ten of these objects.”
I had to laugh. I know I’m getting old. Don’t need some silly game to verify it. Didn’t need one after graduating high school in 1975, and need one now even less.
Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts
The thing about growing old is how you accumulate memories of so many of your firsts. I don’t know how much of it is true, but my mind informs me about many remembered firsts. Kisses and sex, purchases and experiences.
A big first for me was watching John F. Kennedy’s funeral on television. Another was watching the first moon landing.
But I remember buying my first car, and my family’s first color television. A big Magnavox console with a 25″ screen, my stepfather procured it after it fell off a truck.
Other big first include my first broken bone, meeting my wife and the first time we told each other, I love you. Another memorable first was the first funeral, for a school mate. Firsts fall in line: aircraft flights, purchasing a microwave, VHS player, CD player, home computer.
Now my latest firsts are witnessing a former POTUS declared guilty by a jury of his peers for crimes he committed, and NAZI flags being flown by his supporters as we commemorate the Normandy Landings done to fight NAZIs eighty years ago.
Michael Seidel, writer 