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.
Thwump, thwump, and away, in my beautiful, my beautiful machine.
Today calendar markers are Saturday, April 27, 2024. Tack on rainchi in Ashlandia. Rain keeps getting released. Temperatures this week have seesawed between highs in the 50s using Fahrenheit as the standard, and low forties at night That’ll continued today.
Had some squalls yesterday. My wife and I treated ourselves to dinner at a local Mexican restaurant. While we were in there eating, winds like the furies arrived. Then came some driving rain, the kind we don’t often see around here. These conditions were gone within fifteen minutes. Puddles and street gutters filled with draining water were left behind. But when we drove home, we came across sections of the city which seemed completely dry. Weirdness.
Today’s music is “Even Better Than the Real Thing” by U2. The Neurons nestled the 1992 song into my morning mental music stream as I played with story concepts while addressing my floofmeisters’ demands to be fed brekkie. Little thinking for such their breakfast deeds (food selection, bowl cleaning, heating water to add to the pate and kibble, reassure them that food is on the way). That leaves plenty o’ brain material for other matters, like writing in my head. The science I arrived at within the thinking was even better than the real thing, and there we were. Presto, the music began.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue 2024 for President Joe Biden and VP Kamela Harris. That’s my plan. Coffee has invigorated the thinking and ambulatory processes; here we go.
The weather has pressed pause on the rain. Shards of broken sunshine are coming through but as soon as they broach the dark clouds’ defenses, a new mass of clouds rush in to patch it up.
A refrigerating breeze circles the streets with a load of petrichor. Like a madeleine for Prost, the petrichor delivers stacks of memories. I flash to being a boy in Wilkinsburg and Penn Hills, PA, a young airman in Korea and Germany, a tourist walking outside a tavern on a darkening day to visit with Dad in West Virginia.
Floofichor(floofinition) – Smells carried by or discharged by animals which triggers memories in others. Origins: ancient middle Floofish, first mentioned in Tales of a Traveling Floof, thirteenth century.
In Use: “Charlemagne pranced into the house’s mudroom from the rain, and with a shake of his thick wet fur, released floofichor which brought smiles to Pamela as memories of Huskies from her past trotted into her mind.”
Mood: Froptimistic (Friday, which inculcates buoyancy and optimism.)
Today, Friday, April 26, 2024, is bundled with chilly rain, a phenomena which meteorologists refer to as ‘rainchi’. Rainchi is the industry term for ‘rainy & chilly’. Meterologists rarely use the term on the radio or television because they’re paid by the word.
BTW, that was fake news. I used several AI search engines to look for the word. One told me, “It appears that you made that word up.” Good enough for me.
We began with thwump thwump thwump, etc. That disappeared about eightish. Looking out, I saw that the ceiling had swallowed the top of the mountain where the chopper had been busy. A light mist was making the land drippy. ‘Nogood’ (another word I made up, cleverly combining ‘no’ and ‘good’) conditions for the helicopter’s task.
While we’re currently enjoying a temperature of 42 F, we’re braced for a sharp thermal uptick to 52 F as our high. Woowee, will it be warm then.
The cats don’t care. This morning found them giving up on being outside early. Both were like, “Screw that, I’m gonna go sleep somewhere.” That was that.
Today’s song was created and released in 1999. “Someday” by Sugar was summoned by The Neurons into the morning mental music stream (Trademark nixed) as I was fulminating on a dream and preparing les floofies’ breakfast repast. I think The Neurons had it right this time. It works for the day and mood.
Stay positive and strong. Lean forward and Vote Blue in 2024. Don’t let the gremlins drag you down. I’ve had coffee, thanks. Here’s the video. Cheers
I look outside. We have 100% cloud cover. “Maybe it’s been called for weather today.”
A while later, a blind person’s cane taps across the roof. Rain is falling.
It’s Thursday, April 25, 2024. 51 F, it’s not warming much more than that today. Good day for mellow indoors activities, such as reading, housework, writing, drinking coffee.
After reading news coverage of the SCOTUS consideration about whether POTUS can have absolute immunity, I want to engage in other things and pushed it into deeper realms of my mind. It’s a challenging question to consider. I agree with the civil limitations previously established by the Supremes. Now, though, can the POTUS be granted absolute immunity about everything? Should the chief enforcer of the nation’s laws be immune from those laws? That seems surreal.
I also am boggled that Justice Thomas wondered about why former ex-presidents weren’t charged and tried in some matters and brings up “Operation Mongoose”. That was JFK’s CIA efforts against Fidel Castro. As JFK was assassinated while in office, how the hell could this be relevant? More headshaking about Justice Thomas is undertaken on my end.
You know, Thomas is 75. If President Biden is too old for his job, what about Justice Thomas? Just sayin’.
The cats were ravenous early. Then they were eager for loving. Took a while to make them happy today. Probably the weather change. That’s my go-to reason for most of the cat’s behavioral matters.
Having conversation with my wife about going east to see Mom and to get her some in-home help. I’ve asked my sister about it for her opinion and history of the matter.
Back in the kitchen, making breakfast, The Neurons bring a mellow break up song from 1999 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark impeached). As “Never Meant” by American Football gains substance, I call on Alexa to play it for me. Coffee is sipped as I watch the rain drip out of the clouds and think about life, existence, and the whole tangerine. “Never Meant” is such a mellow song, it’s perfect for a quiet rainy day.
Stay positive and as sane as you can. Be strong and Vote Blue in 2024. As noted, coffee has been ushered into my system. Now for the music for your benefit. Enjoy. Cheers
I encountered a man yesterday as I was walking along a street. I wear a hat with ‘flair’, and it attracted him. He wanted to see my US flag one. As he admired it, he asked, “What’s that beneath your flag pin?”
“That’s my retired USAF pin.”
“Oh, you were in the Air Force.”
The Neurons jumped up with responses like, “No, I just like the pin.”
I beat The Neurons back and answered, “Yes, I was.”
I wondered what his Neurons were saying to him about his question. I imagine they were like Homer Simpson’s neurons, muttering, “That’s it, I’m out of here,” followed by footsteps and a slamming door.
The helicopter — there’s just one, despite the traveling, echoing sound — continues its cleanup action. Good news: it isn’t black. No one rappels down from it.
Other than the chapter, Wednesday, April 24, 2024 in Ashlandia, offers up a mild and attractive spring day. 55 F, hunting for a 68 F high. Scanty clouds are mixing it up with the blue sky and sunshine.
Depressing news on the Mom front. She returned home but is suffering a lot of pain. I’m flummoxed. After days of being mostly upbeat, she’s in pain, angry, snapping at everyone.
Why is she in pain again? What’s the source? It seems to be a culmination of issues. She’s eighty-eight. Systems, muscles, joints fail. Pain ensues.
I try mounting context around her situation. She wasn’t allowed to go to my nephew’s eighteenth birthday party. Arrangements were made so she could join via Facetime to sing happy birthday. She was a no-show. When contacted, she said she saw how she looked on the screen and didn’t want anyone to see her like that.
Meanwhile, there were miscommunications and misunderstandings when she returned home. The facility offered her a wheelchair. Mom said, no, because she has one at home. The sister with her didn’t say anything but the rest of us responding, “What wheelchair? She doesn’t have a wheelchair.” So that opportunity was missed.
Her home stairlift quit functioning. Turns out that it needs a new battery. There are claims that it’s been beeping for weeks. Why didn’t someone notice that and do something about it? That would make sense, wouldn’t it?
Mom’s live-in boyfriend and my two sisters who live near Mom are emotionally exhausted. They’re struggling with their health and life matters. Mom calls for them to come help her but their balance is broken. It’s become harder for them to rise to the moment. They’ve been doing so for about five years.
A third sister leaves near Mom. Her husband has just been diagnosed with prostate cancer. No other details are being leaked. They’re a secretive couple.
My fourth sister, the oldest sibling, now 70, lives in Georgia. She works, but her finances are tight. Going to help Mom would be a huge financial challenge for her from what I know.
And I, I sit across the country in my world, frustrated, guilt-ridden because I’m not there to help. I feel selfish. I want to go to help them.
I am selfish. I’m trying to pursue my long-delayed writing dreams. And I have my wife, house, and cats to take care of, along with a bunch of other issues. If I go back to help Mom and the rest, that puts a lot on my wife. She’s dealing with her own matters.
I feel like I know what I must do. Sacrifice and go. But also load it on my wife. And that causes more stress, more guilt, more depression.
Bit of a rant, wasn’t that? I know so many others have gone through like situations. I watched and helped as my wife went through this with her mother for several years. Other friends and relatives have gone through it or are going through it. This is part of modern American life.
On to music, okay? The Neurons have loaded ELO’s 1977 song, “Turn to Stone”, into the morning mental music stream (Trademark overdue). I get that. I feel paralyzed by demands, choices, and the need for decisions. Yeah, I’m turned to stone. Need to suck it up and move.
One other matter on my morning agenda. A toast to Voyager 1. NASA has restored contact with it. Launched back in 1977, a friend of mine was involved with its mission planning with NASA. He passed away from a brain tumor a few years ago. He said that he was only involved in a small degree. His expertise was measuring plasma composition in different regions of space. But even a little involvement is something. So, to Voyager, NASA, and Ed.
Be positive and keep strong. I know it can be a struggle. I’ve already launched some coffee into my body but I’ll probably add another round. Here’s the video. Cheers
When I say thank you in response to service, the young baristas respond, “Of course.”
Makes me smile. I remember when I used to respond, “No problem.” Then some elder – he must’ve been fifty or more, and I was pushing through my teens – said, “Whatever happened to ‘you’re welcome’?”
Michael Seidel, writer 