He loves face watching. Looking at children’s faces, he wonders what they’ll look like in thirty, forty, fifty years and what they’ll become. As he considers elderly faces, he looks for the youths they were, and thinks of the lives they may have lived. So many mysteries slumber in each face, waiting to be discovered.
Friday’s Theme Music
The particulars are not impressive. Friday. September 2, 2022. 73 F now, 99 F later. Purple air, 148, not healthy for some, limit exposure. A pleasant sunrise complete with jay squawking at 6:37 AM, sunset ensuing at 7:43 PM. No clouds in the sky, but wildfire smoke grays the blue.
Mom tested positive for COVID this week. Born in 1935, with existing underlying conditions, it’s a worry. Sounded horrid on the phone and is dealing with a range of symptoms. Picked it up from her partner, who picked it up from his daughter, who picked it up from her high school reunion. So it goes. He tested and has symptoms but appears to be recovering. Mom is on a new med being evaluated in clinical trials with the FDA. The dice have been tossed. We’ll see how they come up.
Musically, The Neurons have Bob Seger doing “Shakedown” in the morning mental music stream. The song is from the 1987 film, Beverly Hills Cop II, an Eddie Murphy vehicle. This can get confusing because a movie with the same name as the song, Shakedown, with Peter Weller and Sam Elliott, came out the next year.
The song came into my head last night for unexplained reasons. Now, what’s interesting to me is that I knew I used this song before as the day’s selected them music, so I looked it up. It was on September 1, 2019. Weird to me that the song is in my mind on September 1 on two different years. Coincidence? Aliens? Witches? Quantum entanglement? Feline manipulation? None of it can be ruled out.
Stay positive and test negative. Take precautions as needed. I need coffee, you know? Then it’s off to write. Here’s the music. It’s a muddy video, but the sound is fine, and you can taste the flavor of the film, and those times, way back in the late 1980s. No, don’t do the math. Have a good life. Cheers
The Car Mod Dream
Another short dream. I was part of some kind of team. Can’t say it was or wasn’t military but ranks and uniforms weren’t in use. I received a phone call about modifying a car for a mission. The car, a silver 2022 Corvette C8 convertible, belonged to another individual who was more senior in rank. I was to approach him and tell him we were going to use his car, and then make changes to it.
I approached as directed. The guy vaguely reminds me of Paulie “Walnuts” from The Sopranos, played by the late Tony Sirico. I give him the message. He stares at me for about five seconds, grunts hard, then tosses something up against the ceiling where it makes a resounding bang and sticks. As I protest that I’m following instructions, he storms off.
That’s the dream’s essence. Further instructions are received. More mods are needed. I tell ‘Paulie’ that they’re needed and I’m going to do them. His anger increases each time, but he does the same thing in response – throws something against the ceiling. Bang, and cracks. Glares at me. Stalks off. As this plays out, I’m getting angry, too.
But there’s never any cracks on the ceiling the next time it happens. And other than his reaction, I enjoy modifying the car and I’m eager to do the work, and gaining confidence that the team will succeed.
Thursday’s Wandering Thought
He and his friends met for beers and conversation. As they raised glasses and clinked them against one another, he said, “I just learned that the reason people originally clinked glasses like that was because the sound was supposed to drive evil spirits away.”
“Really?” Another asked.
“Yes, apparently the Gods didn’t like people to have fun outside of celebrations of Gods, and would send evil spirits and demons or minions or something after them to stop them from having fun.”
“Huh,” several said.
“Yes,” he continued, “and I just learned that when I made it up.”
Thursday’s Theme Music
The bers landed early this morning, while most of us pursued sleep. First of these is September, harbinger of seasonal changes and falling leaves in much of the northern half of our planet. South of zero, spring is shaping up.
It’s Thursday the First, 2022. Long may she rule, but it’ll likely be just twenty-four hours. We have another hot flash with poor air in store for us in my valley. Probably a 99 F high. Our air is purple on the chart, with a reading of 187 attached to it and a warning not to prolong your time outside. It’s 21 C right now, which would normally be pleasant, but this smoke is trapping the heat. Can you say stifling?
With all this, sunrise was surprisingly clear and pleasant at 6:36 AM, the sort of rising sun that makes you smile in appreciation of life and the world. Night’s duties commence at 7:45 PM. Last night’s sunset was a hot furnance red display. The biggest difference about the dwindling daylight hours with its later sunrise and earlier sunset is that it’s a more abrupt transition. Whereas in May through July, it’s quite light before the dawn and stayed light a bit after sunset, darkness more frequently prevails in those hours.
The smoke has not given the sun protection that I thought, only shaving off one degree from the high temps of the last several days. Two fires are spooning this smoky flow into us, one in California, and Oregon’s Rum Creek fire, less than an hour away on I-5.
The Neurons are enthusiastic about “Pumped Up Kicks” this morning. They’re not forthcoming about their reasoning. I suspect it’s a byproduct of reading the news. PUK by Foster the People was released in 2010. It’s a dark song against a pop beat about a human with a gun shooting others for the fun, because of how it makes them feel.
An unusual song. Stay positive and test negy, and do what you can. I will do the same as soon as sufficient coffee is imbibed to satisfy The Neurons. Here is la song. Cheers
A Made-for-TV Movie Dream
This dream stretch started first with a vignette of me traveling. I’d just settled into my destination when I jerked awake. Paralysis gripped me as I saw where I was and reacted with shock, This isn’t where I’m supposed to be. Where am I? How did I get here? Within a fist of seconds, I knew that I was home. But dream imagery held a little longer, requiring more time for my bafflement to drain. Then, back to sleep and another of Morpheus’s deliveries.
I was not in the next dream at all. This was the movie dream. A man and woman, white, thirtyish, were traveling together in a narrow RV. Ragtag clothes covered them. The man carried a thin, cheap pink cotton blanket while his companion carried a blue one of the same sort. These were the same sort of blankets I saw on many homes in my childhood’s earlier years, when we lived in poorer surroundings, usually on a bed in a small room with sparse furniture.
The couple were stopping for the night and wanted to sleep in a place rented for the purpose. Strangely, not hotel or motel accommodations, nor a house, lodge or cabin. Just a room, twenty feet long and six feet wide (guessing at those numbers), all mattress, dark, with a door on either end. Lacking money, the couple didn’t want to pay for it but wanted to use it so the concocted a plan to sneak into the room, use it for the night, awaken early, and sneak out. They parked their long RV around the corner, where it would be out of sight.
Watching this sequence, I asked, why are they doing this? Why not sleep in the RV? Isn’t that the purpose? I also thought, they’re not going to get away with this. They’re going to get caught.
Yes, they were spotted as they executed their plan and tried sneaking out. The man distracted them, going in one direction as dawn was rising, allowing the woman to reach the RV and drive off. They would meet up on a road outside of town.
But the man needed to get there. He scurried among the shadows around tall buildings and narrow alleys, hiding, working his way out of town. The final hurdle required him to dash through a lobby occupied by the very people hunting him and then sprint across a rocky, open field to a gravel road and then up the gravel road. Dust and sun ruled that space, and five men warily scanned their territory.
Yet, he judged his moment, raced across the lobby’s polished marble floor and fled between two window. Yes, some strange design plan allowed a wall with open space between two tall plates of glass. He’d spotted that and utilized it to get away. Several chased him but he had momentum, distance, and speed.
“That’s alright,” the one man said. Portly, large, with graying hair slicked back over a predominantly bald head, he wore a flowery ‘Hawaiian’ shirt. He was in charge and spoke through guffaws, snorts, and snickers. “Billy gave him a gift. Ain’t that right, Billy?”
“That’s right.” Billy was a lean young man in tight blue denim pants just entering the lobby.
“What was the gift?” a third asked.
The leader said, “A concoction of chemicals that’ll at least make him sick enough to wish himself dead, if he doesn’t die from it.”
We don’t know what happened to our man, whose name was never given. He didn’t make another dream appearance. Instead, his traveling mate, the woman, came in. Dressed in a suit, she had several tall, large men in suits accompanying her. Holding up a badge, she identified herself as a police officer. She’d been working undercover to get evidence on their operation and now arrested them for multiple crimes, including poisoning people. She revealed that she’d come back after them because they’d poisoned her on a previous visit.
The dream began scrambling at that point but I have a sense that the final piece was a report that the man who’d been with her was found by a patrol car.
Dream movie end.
Floofserker
Floofserker (floofinition) – An animal who is frenzied in an activity.
In use: “Fish and Chips were both well-mannered and sweet puppies until it came to eating their kibble. When they heard it hitting their bowls, the tiny brown and white beasts became floofserkers, leaping into the bowls, spraying kibble in every direction as their little paws kicked it out and their mouths frantically chased pieces.”
Wednesday’s Wandering Thought
He read a Reddit thread on the insanepeoplefacebook forum. It claimed, with this capitalization and punctuation, “MENSTRUATION ISN’T Natural. It’s a UNNATURAL response to improper dietary habits & toxic environment. ALL ESTROGENS are POISONOUS.”
WTH, he wondered. Do people honestly believe this? Where do they get their ideas? Or were they just posting this insanity to pull attention?
Either way, it was from a wholly different world than the one he inhabited. Of course, that’s why he read it: to see what people in this other world were saying, so he could try to understand them.
