Sunday’s Theme Music
T’was the day before the last day of October and all through the yard, everyone was watching, and staying on guard. Wizards and witches and princesses were coming soon, and monsters and zombies might be around, too. Candy and treats can be offered to still their noise, but you know how it is with young girls and boys.
It’s Sunday, October 30, 2022. Gadzooks but yesterday was a beautiful prototypical autumn day. Today is using the leftovers to bake us another the same way. With the sun cracking the whip at 7:41, the cool night air – 40 F – was pleased with the sun. It’s since gone to 44, a small but welcomed increase, and will hit 64 F before sunset comes at 6:07 this evening and the temperature decrease.
Yesterday afternoon was spent at a concert. The Rogue Valley Symphonic Band always does a Halloween concert which we attend. It was another fun success this year. Many adults and all children dressed up in costumers. One of my favorites was a little girl costumed as Hermione from Harry Potter’s world. She was about perfect. I asked her as we were leaving if she knew any spells. The four-year-old looked at me like I was an idiot. Nothing else was said. Okay, message received.
I have “The Warrior” by Scandal (1984). The Neurons claim they aren’t behind the song’s rise in the morning mental music stream. It could be a series of dreams behind it. I think Dream Neurons are in a different industry than The Neurons. Not sure of The Neurons’ job description. I guess they sometimes help Memory Neurons. Don’t know if they do anything for the Goofing Around Neurons. Although I’m in my sixties, the GANs are very lively while the MNs (that’s said as mins) often decline engagements these days.
Back to the band, Scandal. I was always sorry they broke up so fast. A friend was in love with Patty Smyth. He was always talking about how great she sang and how gorgeous she looked, looking up information about her and sharing it with us. So out of character for him that it was fascinating. He was generally sort of listless and mute until he began gushing about Patty Smyth. We always worried that he had the makings of a stalker. Don’t know what happened to him, as I rotated back to the US at the end year’s end. This is one of those songs which I hear pretty regularly on classic rock stations when I tune into them.
Don your positive energy and keep it flowing. Test negative. Meanwhile, it’s coffee time. Here’s the song. Cheers
Saturday’s Theme Music
The end is nigh! We’re discussing October of 2022, of course. The next flotilla of days, led by November 1st, are cresting the horizon and coming our way as October’s last days pack up the gear, tidy up, and prepare to send October off.
Yes, it’s Saturday, October 29, 2022. Beautiful fall morning here, sunshine, trees sparkling with wet leaves in hues of merlots and reds, golds and lemons, salads and oranges. Sunset cut down the night at 7:40 this morning. Clouds send a fog squad in, but the sunshine quickly dispatched it. Some clouds now roam the higher reaches, calculating approaches. The temperature has perked up to 51 F and will hit 20 C later today. Sunshine will be cut off at 6:08 PM.
BTW, happy birthday to Mom! As she proudly proclaims, she’s a tough old toboggan. That’s our joke, found when her phone corrected her voice text from ‘tough old broad’ to toboggan. I also refer her to a tough old bird, which she enjoys. She’s roving her upper eighties now, and if she likes being called a tough old bird or a tough old broad, I give it to her, especially in the shadow of her September health crises.
The Neurons uploaded The Offspring and “Coming for You” from 2015 into the morning mental music stream. I haven’t heard the song in a few years but the cats were relentless this morning. They kept coming for me through the night, snuggling up for some head scratches, interrupting dreams, breaking REM, knocking on the cat door to go out and come in. I told them, “Guys, I need some sleep. You keep coming for me.” The Neurons tortured that sentiment into The Offspring lyrics, “Well no, hell no, they keep coming for you.” It’s a solid punk anthem heavy on distorted guitar sounds and in-your-visage with their lyrics and delivery.
Time to move on to coffee island, where the brew is hot, pure, and strong. Stay positive, test negative, and do what’s needed to see the pandemic’s end. Here’s the music. Never seen the video before today, but that was fascinating. I can see the song done with cats, though, eyeing you, walking and stalking the night, you know, coming for you…
Cheers
Floofee Break
Floofee Break (floofinition) – A short break to visit with an animal.
In use: “After doing chores, a floofee break with the cat and dog always restored Marc’s spirits. Sometimes he’d take two or three floofbreaks a day. Rainy days could tun into a day-long floofee break.”
Friday’s Wandering Thought
He knew a brief history of pants and also read about plural tantum, but it still bothered him to hear underwear referred to ‘a pair of underwear’ or ask for ‘a pair of pants’. He had no problem with a pair of glasses although a pair of scissors irked him. For his own use, he’d quit referring to a ‘pair’ of any of these things.
He was just trying to pare things down to make life simpler.
A Shambolic Dream
Arriving somewhere outside, I was met by a man I knew. I’d worked with him at a startup after my military career. Now he was dressed as a light colonel. Greeting me and my wife, he said, thumb over shoulder to indicate direction, “Come on over here and join us. We’re going to review your records.”
So first, I acted like that was completely and totally normal. I said to my wife, “Oh, I guess I’m in the military.” She agreed and went off to do something while I went through my review.
Several problems immediately presented. One, no uniform. Two, haircut out of regs. So was the mustache. Three, I needed to get my records.
My records were to have been pulled and sent over for the review. I was directed over to an area where a table was set up like it was in a record store, but this was all outside under a sunny early autumn day. People were milling, going through the sectioned records, searching for their records. Someone offered to help me. As I went through them, I found my records and so announced. But wait; those weren’t my records. The first and last names were correct, but the middle name was wrong. On, no, they’d sent over the wrong records.
As I swore a bit about what had happened, I noticed another table to the left. It wasn’t set up in the same way. I stepped over to it and there were my records.
I rushed them over to the large card table where the review was being conducted. I knew several of those folks from both military and civilian careers. As I came up, I heard one chief master sergeant say, “But that’s how he aways is.” Others agreed.
I was mortified. Were they speaking of me? What did they mean?
They reviewed others’ records. When it came to be my turn, I joked with them and then explained that I was just back, I’d been visiting with my mother, who’d been very sick. They seemed disinterested. They looked through my records and commented on my haircut and lack of uniform. I told them that I was trying to get it together. One said, “Didn’t you come back from being with your mother a few weeks ago?” When I answered yes, he continued, “Then shouldn’t you have it together by now?”
“Yes,” I agreed. “Let me go get my haircut. My wife was just telling me that I needed to get one. And my uniform is in my locker. I’ll get it and put it on.”
I went off, with my wife joining me. We were mumbling to one another about the situation. She had my clothes, having gotten them out of my locker. Great, but they were horribly wrinkled. Where could I iron them or have them pressed? There was no time, no time.
Then, some young airman dressed in a black pseudo-NAZI military uniform insulted my wife. Overhearing it, I was furious. Confronting him, I wanted to hit him but instead warned him that I was taking action against him. Laughing, he told me, “Fuck you.” That pissed me off further. Another person attempted to defend him as the first guy stood there laughing. I told both that I was busting their asses before my wife pulled me away.
Stepping out of the locker area, I put on the wrinkled pants. Others, including the board members, turned and watched. I then tugged on the shirt only to realize that the shirt and pants were from two different uniform combinations and didn’t match. I thought, oh my God, now I’m screwed.
The guy who greeted me at the dream’s beginning came up. He said, “Don’t worry about any of this. We’re cutting you a break.” As I responded with astonished relief, he went on, “They reported that they found a spell on you, a curse. We’ve lifted that, but since you were under it up to this point, we thought we’d give you a pass.”
The dream ended as I was absorbing this.
