Author: Michael Seidel

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.

Friday’s Theme Music

Made it to June — June, when a young man’s fancy lightly turns to — well, that depends on the young man. We’re all different you know. Some ask, “What’s love got to do with it?”

Now that I’ve reached June, I’ve set my sights on July. As was said in the military on performance reviews, “Set low goals and failed to achieve them.” A cynic’s coven, they were.

Sunrise was about 5:30 on the AM side of the day and the setting part will be on the B side after 8:30. Temperatures for the nocturnal portion dipped into the mid 40s F but we’ve strutted into the low 60s by now, making our way to the low 80s in Ashlandia. How do you describe a sky this blue, not smudge by dust, smoke, or cloud, just sun-kissed and beckoning?

This, ladies and germs, is Friday, June 2, 2023.

Re-installed the pet door last night for Papi’s use. T’was removed for the winter. Some trepidation clings to the decision. Cougar, you know, seen in these parts. Well, there are several ranging our town’s streets and yards. Wife suggested, “Put the pet door back on so that you can get some sleep.”

“Cougar?” I responded, a one word summary of the six sentences said to remind her of her worries about a cougar getting Papi.

“This will give him an escape route. He can run in through the pet door if he gets scared.”

Sure, in a perfect world, I didn’t answer. That assumes Papi lounges around the back yard, close to him, instead of chasing moonbeams around the block. It also assumes that Tucker doesn’t passive-aggressively sleeps in front of the pet door, blocking it. Whatever. I am like water.

Today’s song is a product of glancing at the TV and seeing something. That something — I don’t know what it was — prompted The Neurons to select Dire Straits and “Lady Writer” (1979) from the memory bins and play it through the night. It still plays in the morning mental music stream, a classic DS sound to me. Catchy tune, upbeat, with intriguing words. Hope it stirs something for you.

Speaking of stirring, I’m stirring to get some java. The coffee low level light is blinking, and a top-off is the cure. Stay pos and bounce into the weekend, wherever your are and doing. Here are the lads and the song.

Cheers

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Floofnata

Floofnata (floofinition) – Song composed by an animal, typically with three or four movements, traditionally performed at night, when others are sleeping.

In use: “As usual, three in the morning came, and Biscuit began her floofnata, awakening everyone else in the house who began shouting at her to stop.”

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Okay, we’re back. It’s about half past coffee on a T-day morning. June 1, 2023. Looks like we made it. Well done. Give yourself a round of applause.

48 F outside in Ashlandia. Sunrise was 5:37 AM, about when I was scolding Papi in exasperation as he sang about his need to be free, never mind the cougars. A cool morning after a chilly night. Sunny, with clouds like sailing yachts cruising the space between the horizons. No visible snow. Need to walk down the street and look east to the higher els to see that. The thermometer will percolate up to the mid seventies today before the sun show shuts down and moves on to bring us another day.

Big news riding the US headlines is the debt ceiling deal passing the House. Who voted for it, who did not, he said – she said, who are the winners and losers, who lost political capital, who gained it. Reading this, The Neurons scoffed, snorted, chuckled, and dished up Aerosmith from 1974, “Same Old Song and Dance”, into the morning mental music stream for my musical merriment.

Breakfast has been et, coffee is prepared, and the day awaits. First, think I’ll read a bit. Stay pos. Coffee diem. Or sumpin’ like that. Here’s the band and their music. Cheers

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The Paths

The children bellowed into the coffee shop on a wall of sounds and cliques, styles varying sharply among them all, a mélange of current youth culture. Their ages escaped him – anywhere from fifth grade to eight or ninth, he thought.  Several schools surrounded the coffee shop so it wasn’t impossible. Except, few of them seemed like young adults. No, these were children.

His study flicked through them, trying to glimpse their futures. Not the close history, no, but what they’ll be in thirty, forty, fifty years. No more possible for him to see in them than he’d seen in his friends. Few followed predicted paths. Surprises, disappointments, successes and failures too often changed the paths.

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Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

He had a dream that he was going in the right direction. It didn’t feel like the right direction today. Maybe the dream was wrong. Or maybe going in the right direction was going to be harder than expected.

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Feeling under the weather this AM. The old nautical expression has always amused me. We never respond, “I’m feeling over the weather” when someone asked and we’re feeling pretty good. One of those expressions used that don’t have a corollary to it. It’s interesting how expressions like this shift from being used out in a ship or boat dealing with bad weather and feeling its effect to land folk getting out of bed and experiencing illness. People began using it on land, and it spread, becoming commonplace, and here we are.

It’s the last day of May of 2023. Feels more like the normal weather for the last day of April out there. Springy, with a 51 F temperature that will muster the will to hammer itself up to 73F. Cloudy as hell. The comparison with the antipodes of heaven is another of those expressions that entices me. “Angry as hell.” “Hungry as hell.” “Thirsty as hell.” “Poor as hell.” Hell really is the worse, isn’t it? But could it be one of those old Greenland/Iceland tricks. “It’s really so nice here, but we don’t want it to become overcrowded, so we’ll call it hell and make it out like it’s really bad to dissuade others from wanting to come.”

I asked the Bing’s AI chat where hell comes from.

“The word “hell” refers to the nether world of the dead or a place of torment for the wicked after death. It comes from the Proto-Germanic *haljō, meaning “concealed place” or “one who covers up or hides something”. It is related to the Germanic mythology of Hel, the goddess of the underworld. It has cognates in other Germanic languages, such as Old Frisian, Old Saxon, Dutch, German, and Icelandic. It originated in the Anglo-Saxon pagan period, around A.D. 400 – 1100 1.”

So there we have it. It’s a concealed place. Of course, Hades and the underworld gets involves from other religions and myths. How we express ourselves and what we believe are interesting blends and adaptations.

All that hell thinking so early AM has AC/DC singing “Hells Bells”. Released in 1980 as part of their comeback effort with a new singer, the bell tolling and song was a direct response to their lead singer’s earlier that year.

Alright, off to do other things like chug coffee to see if that lifts me. Stay pos, okay? Here’s the music. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

Monday morning. 6:15 AM. She awoke to an alarm. Her phone. Yes, time to get up and go to exercise class.

But there was no class today. She could sleep in. She found the phone to turn it off.

The phone was already off.

The alarm had stopped.

Must have been her beautiful mind trying to take care of her.

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