The Writing Moment
They were watching a television show. A body landed on the cement behind an FBI agent. The agent was on a cell. The landing body thudded. She flinched and looked back.
His wife said, “That’s not believable. She didn’t even duck.”
“That’s a choice the creative team makes as part of the storytelling. How does the character react to something like that? Are they calm and unfazed or do they freak? That’s part of the show’s tenure and the series’ atmosphere. I make decisions like that all the time when I’m writing, trying to decide how someone reacts and keep them true to the story and character.”
She shrugged. “Whatever.”
Well, it was important to him.
Tuesday’s Theme Music
Sunshine beats down on snow-plated Ashlandia. Concerns about how this late snow and cold weather affects the growing season circulate among growers and friends. Everyone is reminded, this is just one corner of the growing season puzzle. Can’t worry about it now. Do as needed and press on.
It’s Tuesday, April 18, 2023. Sunrise was at 6:23 AM. 29 F last night, unseasonable for us. The snow is light and already burns off where the sun touched down earlier. Weather functionaries tell us it’ll rain today and the high will be about 50 F. So spring will show up for a bit. Sunset comes a few minutes before 8 PM.
Alexa told us yesterday that snow was going to happen during the night. We were surprised that she was right.
In other news, Nicolas Cage regrets eating cockroaches. Cats ask with puzzlement, “Why? They’re crunchy.”
Trips are being planned. Knowing this, the cats have subverted The Neurons and have them playing “Everytime You Go Away”. I had the Paul Young verson in my head but found this video from Farm Aid 1985 with John Hall singing it, backed by Billy Joel, Bonnie Raitt, and GE Smith. Has sentimental value for me, as I remember watching some of this concert on the telly.
Stay pos as you can. Coffee is being served and I shall partake. It’s my one weakness, along with fifty million other things. Here’s the music. Cheers
Mooday’s Wandering Thoughts
Heck of a week for guns in the news.
Missouri – A Black teenager is shot in the head and chest by an 85-year-old white male homeowner. Homeowner accused the teenager of trying to break in. Teenager was at the wrong house to pick up his siblings.
Sweet sixteen party was rocked by four deaths and thirty-two injured in a mass shooting in rural Alabama.
A Louisville park saw two killed and four others wounded in a mass shooting this past weekend.
Up in New York, a car full of girls turned up the wrong driveway and was fired upon by the homeowner. One of the girls died. She was twenty.
We were just recovering from the Louisville bank shooting last week where five were killed, along with the young killer, and eight others were injured, and the Nashville Christian school a few weeks before, were three children and three adults were killed, and now we have this weekend to remind us of the effectiveness of thoughts and prayers when it comes to guns and murder.
Monday, the first day of the week, is just closing down. Could be a long week.
Mooday’s Theme Music
Today’s weather – 30 F, clear skies, rain drying on the ground, clouds circling the valley on the horizons — feels like mid-March. This is Mooday, Apil 17, 2023.
The sun is ‘climbing’ into the sky. Isn’t that a fascinating perception, that the sun is rising into the sky as a matter of the planet’s spin, tilt, and flight around the sun? Went out to see meteors last night but, rain. Clouds. No go.
My house weather system says it’s 37 F out there. Papi galloped in after being in for twenty minutes, wet paws sending him sliding and spinning. He’s no Aryton Senna. Weather spies warn Ashandia to expect more rain today, just showers. Sunrise was 0627 and sunset will be at 1954. Highs will crowd the mid-fifties by teatime and then drop as rain showers take over.
News today continues to focus mainly on the SCOTUS and the abortion pill, and the military ‘leak’ of classified info. Many decry this leak and suggest, shake things up. Change how classified is handled. Based on how many leaks? We had several more mass shootings over the weekend. Thoughts and prayers are being offered for actual loss of life by the pro-life party behind the abortion issues. Surely thoughts and prayers can work for the classified leak.
Weather inspired The Neurons today, coming up with “The Sound of Winter” by Bush (2011 – looked it up) in the morning mental music stream. The line is, “Hold on to yourself, it’s like the sound of winter,” which makes The Neurons ask, “What?”
Stay pos. Enjoy the sunshine as it comes until it becomes too much. So we, my beer friends and I, mused as we watched a snow squall flashed through followed by sunshine and then a rain shower. “Wait,” we told each other. “Probably by next month, it’ll be hot as hell and we’ll be wishing for rain.” Yeah, ‘cuz we’re like that.
I got coffee and music. Here’s the tune. Cheers
Sunday’s Wandering Thought
Just one of those days. WordPress locked up in its eternal ‘autosaving’ groove and a post was lost. He usually copies it all and saves it to a Word doc or writes it in a Word doc and then copies and pastes it to WP. But he was lazy today. Should have known better. WP locks up like that about twenty percent of the time — a ‘technical glitch’, you know.
Well, lesson learned again. Don’t trust WordPress.
Sunday’s Theme Music
Hearing the pursuit, we ran hard. “In here,” Pretzel shouted on my left. I twisted, planted my foot and made the cut, following him into a small path.
We crowded in panting like the sprinters we’d been. “What is this?” Maylie asked.
“I think it’s a time machine,” C-Jean said.
Don’t know about the rest but I did a mental, oh shit. “Don’t touch anything. We got to get out of here.”
“Oops,” Pharslei said.
The machine vibrated for two seconds. Ping, it said, like we were a done nuked meal.
“Where are we?” Maylie asked.
“Not where,” Pretzel said. “When. Time machine, itz. When are we?”
Sunday, April 23, 2016, it said. “Shit,” someone said.
The numbers blinked. April 20, 1623. Still Sunday. “I’m going to go see,” Pretzel announced.
“No,” I said, “Hold up.” That was the last I saw of him, though, going out that door.
Last I saw of any of them. Machine now said, April 16, 2023.
I left the booth. It vanished behind me. Tepid sunshine washed my face. Mostly I saw cloud layering like stacked grays. Still seemed like Ashlandia’s green deep valley, at least.
The Neurons have filled the morning mental music stream with “Where Have All the Good Times Gone”. Went with the Kinks’ original song from ’65. Fit with my state of mind. Shopping this morning, it seemed like such a dirge. Everyone shopper I eyed semed to be thinking, “I wish I was anywhere else.” Shopping has never been a leisure pursuit for me but it kicked my thinking down a memory path which lodged up against the question, where have all the good times gone? Follow up was, what constituted a good time?
Stay pos. I know, sometimes it’s touch. Feels like the world is on your shoulders, and it’s putting on more weight every second. Coffee helps me. Coffee; it’s what’s for breakfast.
Here’s the music. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 