I like the feel of this.
Overheard
The first woman said, “She is fostering two kittens and I’ll bet she’s going to be a foster fail.”
The other woman replied, “Wait, did you say that you had a cat that lost its tail?”
The Angry Dream
First dream phase I was in the military, but I was a civvie in the second. I found some red tile and learned it was available, so I had it moved and then spent a day reflooring a place. I put the tiles in place but then had to pour some stuff over it to hold it in place. No time to do that before the others returned so I went to meet them and tell them what was happening with the floor.
I walked in. A young female airman in standard uniform of blue skirt and light blue shirt walked in. Looking down at the floor as she walked, she started smiling and kicking the floor apart.
I stormed up to her and almost grabbed her. I almost went for her throat but caught myself. Seeing me, she went white. I said in my hardest angry senior NCO voice, “What are you doing?” As that was rhetorical, I then introduced myself, told her what I’d spent the day doing, and then had her get down and put it all together. As she was doing that, she began crying. Others entered and asked about what was going on. I ordered her to stand up and explain to everyone what was going on.
Next, I’m a civilian working at some company. I work alongside some pompous jackass who thinks himself a god. He has a routine of stealing others’ ideas and not sharing credit. He likes to belittle people and spit at them. Knowing this, I began working on a project in secret. Part of that required me to order porn from a catalog. (Yeah, I know, strange, but it’s a dream.) This idiot confronts me at one point, claiming to know what I’m doing, mocking me with a smirk as he thinks he reveals my plans. He’s completely wrong, so I don’t react.
When I finish my project, I take it to a meeting. He’s sitting behind a table. After I explain the project and show my results to others, who praise it, he starts verbally attacking me, mocking and smirking, and then spits in my hair. Well, that was it.
Verbally lashing him, I lunged across the table. As he shrank back into the corner with a look of shock, I grabbed him by the hair, lifted him up, and spit in his face several times, asking him how he liked being spit on. After releasing him, I told him that it’s indicative of who he is that when I came across the table for him, no one tried to stop me or said a word. The look on his face was priceless.
Oddly, the guy looked like Benedict Cumberbatch, an actor who I enjoy.
Dream end.
Monday’s Theme Music
Monday has landed. You need to be careful when Monday lands that it doesn’t do serious damage to you. Some people really enjoy Mondays landing. They’re depressingly cheerful, shouting things like, “Woo hoo, it’s Monday,” causing the rest of us to raise our eyebrows so high that they get lost in our hair.
It’s August 27, 2022, which, for some, is the deadline. It’s also birthdays and anniversaries, so salutations to you if it is. Hope it’s memorable and the start of a long line of fantastic years.
I’m in Eugene, Oregon, now, a stop off on our way home. It’s 61 F here, 16 C on the coast, and 64 F in Ashland. Respective highs are 85, 68, and 88 F. Sunrise for this local was a classic, with sunshine piercing the eastern sky with a sharp golden lance at 6:323 this morning. Sunset will be at 8:07. I plan to be home then, where the sunset will be 8:01.
I have a 1957 song by Buddy Holley and the Crickets stuck in the morning mental music stream. My fault, totally my fault. After we checked into the room and settled for the evening, we cruised TV offerings where we found BBC America showing Stand By Me. The 1986 movie is about boys in a 1959 small town, their conflicts with themselves and others, and the quest to find a dead body. It features a terrific cast and music of the era. Well, The Neurons heard, ” Everyday, it’s a-gettin’ closer, goin’ faster than a roller coaster,” and they latched onto that like a cat taking over a chair.
Stay pos, test, neg, and so on. Yes, I’ve had coffee and breakfast. Coffee was very good. The breakfast went down well, breaking back tears of joy from being out in the field and enjoying some fine reconstituted eggs. Here’s the music. Cheers
Sunday’s Wandering Thought
Sometimes when he was people watching, he wondered how many of them would be shit flingers if they were monkeys. Just one of many things he wondered, but there it was.
Sunday’s Theme Music
Well, we come down the hill and turned into a glade, and there it was, majestic as ever: Sunday, August 21, 2022. So I, for one, can say, it does exist. I’ve seen it once and I’ll probably never see it again.
It’s a beautiful day on the beach. Though clouds blanket the sun, its presence is here. The ocean is a sleepy murmur. No fog or marine layer. 64 F. Today will be a little warmer, 70 F.
Sunrise trickle across the eastern skies at 6:26 AM and the sun’s luminescence will leave us with sunset at 8:12 PM.
A dream last night featured Tom Petty saying, “Let’s do the crocodile song, the rock song.” He said this three times, not in a row, but at three different times. I knew he referred to Elton John’s hit. Whenever he said that and his band played, I would go off and tell myself, “I need to be more like Tom Petty, and take more risks, put myself out there.” The dream also featured two-day POTUS Ronald Reagan and four-time NASCAR champ Jeff Gordon. It was an interesting dream.
But when thinking about the dream, “Crocodile Rock” and Tom Petty, The Neurons responded with Tom Petty and “Running Down A Dream”, a hit song from the 1989 album, Full Moon Fever. I was in Germany at Rhein Main Air Base when it was released, returning to America in 1991. The Neurons know I like this song. Who am I to argue with them? Yes, the song has been featured here before, but we’ll survive that.
Yes, I’ve had coffee, so I’m mellow, as are The Neurons. As I say, the ocean is a sweet companion today, in a mellow mood, and it’s infectious. Stay positive, test negative, and so on. Enjoy your Sunday, yeah?
Cheers
Saturday’s Theme Music
The wheel spins and slows. The marble drops. Spying the results and spreading the word, everyone gets into position to begin another life play.
Today’s performance is Saturday, August 20, 2022. Those who went through this day before and remember it know what to expect. Others need to improvise.
A narrator says in a Morgan Freeman voice, “It’s 6:23 in the morning as the sun unloads it light. An overcast sky is shifted into place over the ocean. Birds hang around on the beach, enjoying the scene without making one. Lazy waves roll in, release their splash, and slid back out. It’s cool but comfortable, sixty-four degrees Fahrenheit. The thermometer won’t show much warmer by the ocean’s side, maybe nudging sixty-eight, sixty-nine. Few people are out. Dog walkers dominate, strolling with leashed pooches. This show will go beyond midnight, but the daylight scenes end at 8:14 this evening. Let the play begin.”
The Neurons have pressed buttons on the morning mental music stream. (They’re still updating to clicks.) Hall and Oates are singing a 1981 hit, “You Make My Dreams”. I was in Texas at the beginning of that year, on Okinawa by June. Stayed there until December 31, 1980, calling Kadena Air Base my home. We lived in a small apartment in a small building with other young American couples, for we were young. Hall and Oates were a favorite group in the building, and their songs are deeply etched into my psyche.
Why this song today? Maybe it was the dreams. The Neurons aren’t confessing anytime soon.
Stay positive and test negative. Wear a mask if it’s needed. Use your judgement and heed the experts. Meanwhile, my coffee is here. Time to start the day. Here’s the music.
Cheers
Saturday’s Wandering Thought
He walked down the street to a little bakery, bought coffee and brought it back to the vacation house. Climbing the steps to their room to give her coffee in bed, he sang, “Coffee man. Coffee man. He brings you coffee when no one can.”
She giggled like a happy child. “Coffee Man has always been my favorite superhero.”
Michael Seidel, writer 