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.
Rain is falling on Thursday’s windows. It’s May 2, 2024.
You’d think that the falling rain would have The Neurons loading the morning mental music stream (Trademark washed away) with rainy songs. But that’s not the case. Another song dominates the mental music stream.
It wasn’t dreams. Had several which I can recall. They were surprisingly spirited, positive dreams and don’t seem to have anything to do with The Neurons’ song choice.
Nor are the cats inspiring the song, as far as I can discern. They’ren napping, recovering from eating breakfast. Playing twenty questions with The Neurons, I try to unearth their reasoning. They’re as cooperative as a witness pleading the fifth.
Meanwhile, it’s another wet and chilly spring day. 49 F, our high will be 53 F. Zing. Better than tornados.
Okay, here’s today’s music, “All Day and All of the Night” by the Kinks from 1964. I was eight, so I must’ve picked it up later. Probably about the time when “Lola” came out, in 1970.
Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has been done up. Here we go. Cheers
This is another demonstration of how warped Trump and his views are.
Never heard anyone describe him as ‘too nice’ as POTUS. Mostly I heard he was cruel. Shallow. Thin skinned. Embarrassing. You know, like when he spoke to a Gold Star Family member when soldiers were killed in Nigeria in 2017.
Now he thinks he’ll win more votes by declaring he’ll be meaner. Guess he’s going after the asshole vote.
We started this day in Ashlandia, Wednesday, May 1, 2024, at 36 F. Chilly, baby. No clouds besmirched the blue sky. Sunshine stormed in at dawn. Asserting itself like a new young bull, the sunshine and front pushed the temperature up to 53 F. It’s still climbing with an expected final stop at 67 F.
The cats can’t wait until it gets that warm. Both stayed out for a testing period in the early hours but galloped to the house when I opened the door and offered sanctuary. Tucker and Papi are now napping like the house cats they are.
Yeah, my mood is oneofhosekindofdaysic. All first world blues junk. Fitbit crashing itself, losing two days of data. GASP! Stop the presses. Slow-loading pages. Connectivity matters at the coffee shop. OH NO, it’s the end of the world. Little matters like that which chip away at your spirit like water dripping on stone. It’s such a cruel world. How can I possibly enjoy my scone and coffee under these conditions? Yes, that’s 24 karat snark.
Reading news restores some semblance of balance. People killed in tornados and storms. I can’t deter my brain from imagining what their death must have seemed like. The noise and power of the storm followed by some manner of incident which causes their demise. Seems like a lonely and terrifying way to die. Of course, hearing incoming missiles or artillery shells also seems terrifying. Is it worse when a blow just comes with little sound and warning? What about being a child in a school listening to one your classmates picking off your peers as they walk the halls with a semiautomatic weapon? That also seems like it would generate all-consuming terror.
One of my nephews experienced his 18th birthday recently so I was thinking about him. Naturally, The Neurons conjured Alice Cooper to the morning mental music stream (Trademark simmering) with “I’m Eighteen” from 1971. The song came out three years before my eighteenth natal day, so I had a ready-made theme song for the day.
I pondered the differences between what I was like and my life, and my young nephew. A straightforward comparison is hard to generate. Our social mediate in those days was passing notes and writing letters. Information was just beginning to emerge beyond AM/FM radio and the big three national television networks.
But I think both ages embody a sense of chaos and challenges. I think that’s so for every generation, no matter the era. We face the same issues of finding our nature and going forward as adults.
He, from my vantage, is an intelligent, poised, and talented individual. My sis, his Mum, is proud of him, and so am I. I look forward to seeing him soon. I hope he votes this year and casts a blue ballot.
Okay, I’ve boarded the coffee train. Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the rock video. Stay chill. Cheers
Floofbit(floofinition) – An animal who seems to have a job to make people get up and move around. Origins: 2007, Ohio, United States, Facebook
In Use: “When her son suggested that Karla needed a Fitbit to remind her to move, she pointed to her young dogs and replied, ‘Don’t worry, I got Crockett and Tubbs to keep me moving.’ As if that was a cue, Tubbs sprang up and started barking and racing around, which naturally drew Crockett into the vortex, and made Karla get up and go to the back door, yelling, ‘You two take that into the backyard.'”
I remain on the carousel, counting days up and counting days down. So many days left in the year, so many days left till the election, the trials, the starts and ends.
I’m sitting on Tuesday, April 30, 2024. A mass of clouds, gray and big as an elephant herd, is sitting on our valley. The thermometer is sitting on 46 F. Sunshine comes and goes as clouds coalesce, shrink, and move on. We will reach 57, the weather folks declare.
“Totally unacceptable,” Papi declares, going out, and then returning. How can he do his rounds and ensure the yard is safe under these conditions? Tucker, older and wiser, eats, washes, shrugs off the weather, and joins us in the office. He settles into his bed and is so slumbering.
With Tucker’s health improving, he’s gained weight and energy. He’s also rediscovered his singing voice. He was a mezzafloofprano this morning, belting out arias for food and attention. It’s very endearing to see.
Thinking about the news, chatting with my significant other about it, we get into the ‘yeah-buts’. Yeah-buts dominate life. A situation is summarized. Or a question is asked. Etc. Then the yeah-buts arrive.
Like Hamas, Gaza, and Israel. They did this. Yeah-but the Hamas did that.
The SCOTUS said this. Yeah-but the Constitution says that. Yeah-but Alito.Yeah-but Roberts and his legacy concerns.
The weather is this. Yeah-but.
POTUS polls say this. Yeah-but Allan Lichtman says that. Yeah-but the polls. Yeah-but the trials. Yeah-but the economy. Yeah-but the Supreme Court. Yeah-but Clarence Thomas. Yeah-but Mike Johnson. Yeah-but the GOP resignations and infighting. Yeah-but.
Yeah-but enough for now. The yeah-buts are overflowing in my mind. I’m counting up and counting down.
Back in the kitchen, I went into the coffee-producing segment of my morning. BTW, my mind asks, why is it called a ‘kitchen’? A detour is made to research its roots. The usual suspects are involved: Latin, Old English, Middle English.
Okay, back to making coffee in the kitchen, where my mind sings, “For the love of coffee.” This is sung to the O’Jays’s song, “For the Love of Money”. Gleefully, The Neurons strike up the 1974 song in the morning mental music stream (Trademark brewing). I sing my version, “For the love of coffee,” and dance. Tucker watches with judgmental soicism. Papi heads to the door and yells for his release.
Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue 2024. The coffee is upon me. Here’s the O’Jays. Cheers
Mood: optermined (yes, that’s optimistic and determined: optermined)
Good morning’ sunshine. Good to feel your presence.
And hello, clouds. Not a surprise to see you coming back today. Felt like your visit here wasn’t over.
Hey, winds. You’re here, too? I understand rain is on the way.
That’s the weather set for April’s penultimate day, Monday, April 29, 2024. May is going to kick it on Wednesday.
Well, alright. We’re still experiencing spring. It’s coolish with that wind, and the clouds have more impact than then sun in deciding the temperature. Right now, yeah, 51 F, with a high of 57 F as a maybe top end.
Papi doesn’t approve of this weather. The ginger floof went outside, announced, “This is unacceptable,” stormed back in and headed for bed.
Tucker, my other house floof, just ate, washed, and curled up by my feet, like a worn-out puppy cat.
They were fed and happy. I made coffee and toasted a cinnamon bagel, then added butter, sugar, and cinnamon. I felt like I deserved something extra today. I had things to do and was a little impatient with existence. It was time to get things started.
Triggered by that phrase, The Neurons selected the Lenny Kravitz tune from 2001, “Dig In”, and commenced playing it in the morning mental music stream (Trademark in purgatory). Good theme song. Like the solidly energetic pop rock vibe it carries.
That’s it for this post. Stay fresh, be strong, remain strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. I’m gonna seize the coffee now. Here’s the music. Have a better one, friends. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 