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

I entered the kitchen to brew coffee. The wife was in the dining room, exercising via Zoom. The instructor ordered, “Walk forward.” My brain replied, “Walk like an Egyptian.”

It’s a fun song. It’s a repeat (it was the theme music on April 15, 2017) but it’s fun Friday somewhere.

Selected a recording of a Pittsburgh performance because Mom and three sisters live there, and I also did for a few years. Poor Debbi, though, doing the tambourine while a machine ‘plays’ the drums.

Here’s the Bangles with their 1986 hit.

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Cookfloof

Cookfloof (floofinition) 1. Animal who believes it must supervise every aspect of meal and snack preparation, often with hopes of benefitting from droped food.

In use: “Being a cookfloof, as soon as she got up, the lab raised his head to watch. As she went to the kitchen, she said, “Time to make dinner,” which he already knew, so he followed.

2. Another term for kitchenfloof.

In use: “As the kitchen was warmest, the kittens established themselves as kitchenfloofs, waylaying toes and feet which came their way, eventually becoming cookfloofs, jumping up onto the counter to inspect meal ingredients and climbing into the refrigerator.”

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Marcy’s Playfloof

Marcy’s Playfloof (floofinition) – Named after a Minnefloofilis school, Marcy’s Playfloof is an American alternative floof ock (flock) band formed in 1994.

In use: Marcy’s Playfloof is best known for “Treats and Scratches”, a 1997 song which scored as a hit in multiple countries.”

Editing Note: I thought that I did Marcy’s Playfloof before, but I couldn’t find it. Maybe I wrote and posted it in my head or some alternative reality. If it was posted in this reality before, apologies for the dupe. Carry on. And wear your damn mask.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

I’m a terrible fortune teller. See too many possibilities. They’re all happening, none of it is happening, and all the varieties between them are happening. Such is life when the film between realities tear and shrink.

Well, that’s how it feels, sometimes.

Here in the U.S., we’re approaching an election. “It’s yuuuge,” some might claim. The possibilities, fears, and anxieties proliferating cause rolling responses: “Oh. my,” “Oh. no,” “What the fuck,” and “Here we go.”

Third Eye Blind presented us with the perfect song for now. They did it back in 1997. “How’s It Going to Be” has a softly tinged nostalgia, illuminating the questions we all experience. “How’s It Going to Be after x,” becomes an urgent plea before falling to soft, wondering surrender.

Perfect for this special year of pandemic, climate change, shifting alliances, and elections we have numbered, 2020.

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Another Changing Dream

Found myself wealthy with dreams last night. This was my favorite.

I’d left the military and I’d change clothes, twice. We were in a busy olace, an amalgam of city, countryside, stores, restaurants, and airport. It changed with where I ooked. That seemed right.

Now I was running late. Friends (K and W) and wife (B) accompanied me, and waited. I told them, “I need to take care of some of my change. There’s so much, I want to deal with some now.”

They mildly complained but I laughed them off and went to my car. Hard-edged and shiny, it was bright lime green wedge, exotic, expensive, and new. Yet my things were in it.

Young, energized, feeling liberated, I opened a panel up, revealing a long, light gray tray. Normally hidden from view, it went half the car’s length. Phones, electronic gear, clothing, paper money, and silver coins were in this tray. I couldn’t reach them because it’d all slid to the back, facts pointed out (with a laugh) by K, W, and B.

I replied, “Watch.” Jiggling the car caused the stuff to shift forward, letting me grab it. “There’s so much change,” I said, laughing. The others asked me what was funny but I didn’t explain. I put handfuls of change in my pocket to use, and then took some clothes to put on, and took a blender and a phone and put them into other parts of the car.

Traffic was heavy. We needed to go. After putting sunglasses on, we took off. The trip was short and fast. I swear that lime green car was flying.

After parking it and exiting, a dream about shopping began

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Mr. Floof

Mr. Floof (floofinition) – Originally from Arizona, Mr. Floof was a Floof Angeles-based American floof rock (flock) band formed in 1982. Although credited with several hit songs, success was fleeting, and they disbanded in 1990.

In use: “One of Mr. Floof’s most successful songs was “Broken Floofs”, based on the Kahlil Floofbran book by the same name.”

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Witless Wednesday

  1. So the classic editor is moved, not gone, the WP blog tells me. What a compromise mess. They sent me an email telling me it was done after the fact. Fairly, they may have sent an earlier heads up that I missed. Once again, I’m not a WP happy camper.
  2. Though it’s witless Wednesday, I’m not going to address POTUS 45 and the GOP, save this item. They’re just too SMFH witless.
  3. For some reason, my wife drifted into the living room and turned on the telly. This was about five PM. We usually turn on the local news at six PM for weather and wildfire updates. COVID-19 updates have been added to the menu although the net updates are way superior to the TV updates. My spouse was laughing through an old show, “Sliders”. I entered to check what was going on. (Television watching and laughing in the afternoon? This is highly suspicious.) Commercials began. She said, “This is the lawsuit channel.” We then saw four ads for suing, for Catholic Church abuse, the Boy Scouts of America, mesothelioma, and asbestos damage. What a world what a world.
  4. I desperately ‘need’ a new office chair. Got rid of the old thing in Feb, then, COVID. Been doing time with dining and folding chair. This spoiled writer’s butt has mentioned its dissatisfaction several times. In June, I began shopping them online, then…broken arm in July. As I’d be the one carrying, lifting, and putting the chair together, I felt holding off was prudent. Been this long, right? Probably order one after I shift casts. I’ll likely buy through Costco. A, cashback. B, a forgiving return policy and easy process.

Got my coffee, you know? Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

The night was lively with energetic, positive dreams. When dreams like these take place, I hope and wish that they’re prophetic. Although I’m an optimist, I believe they’re overflow from my attitude, not the future.

My attitude does fluctuate. I can swing from hopeful to despairing faster than a hummingbird’s heartbeat.

At least one dream featured background music as U2’s “Red Hill Mining Town” was played. A few stanzas were prominent:

We’re wounded by fear
Injured in doubt.
I can lose myself
You I can’t live without.
Yeah, you keep me holdin’ on
In Red Hill Town.
See the lights go down onÖ
Hangin’ on
You’re all that’s left to hold on to.
I’m still waiting
I’m hangin’ on
You’re all that’s left to hold on to
On to.

h/t to Metrolyrics.com

BTW, did anyone else’s WP give you a change — an improvement, they’ll probably tell you — changing your block editor? Gotta fix it again, not difficult, but annoying. Don’t need another cause for teeth gnashing, thanks.

Here’s the music, from 1991. Not fond of this video. Hadn’t seen it before today, but it leaves me cringing with its sense of studied drama.

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