Simplefloof(floofinition) – 1. An animal with few needs or worries.
In use: “Rocky was a simplefloof, happy with a toy, some kibble, and the company of humans or other animals.”
2. An animal whose foolish behavior or silly personality is often the subject of repeated stories for others’ amusement.
In use: “A sweet simplefloof, Peaky loved playing with a rubber worm but despised how it felt and tasted. She’d bat the toy across the room, then wash her paw before galloping over to the toy again. Whenever she picked it up in her mouth, she immediately dropped it, shaking her head. Yet, she’d pull the toy out of her little toy chest whenever it was put away.”
The water wheel turns and drops us into Saturday, June 25, 2023. June, precious boys and girls, is reaching the end of its walk. 2023 is over halfway through its life cycle.
Summer has arrived in Ashlandia, where the rock is old and the musicians are young. 59 F now, 84 F is within our reach if we but try — as if we can make it happen. Maybe we could but it’d need a collective will, and this isn’t the era of collective will. Small collective wills emerge to turn events but overall, we disagree on how and where we should direct our collective will.
Thunderstorms yesterday. My wife reported that she was outside reading in the back when they arrived. Tucker was to one side, in the yard, napping. Rain splattered down. She hurried in. Tucker didn’t even stir. Papi was already in the house, asking, “Did you hear those boomers? Wake me when it’s over.” He then stretched out in the dining room, where he was when I arrived. Wasn’t asleep, though. Nah, not when boomers are thudding and rumbling.
Sunrise today is about 5:33 AM in Ashlandia, and we’ll see the sun’s tail end at 8:52 PM. Only a matter of seconds difference from the ‘longest day of the year’ experienced on solstice, which is about the sunlight hours and not the day’s length, right? Can we all agree that the day remains roughly 24 hours? Today is 23 hours, 59 minutes, 59.9993680 seconds, if you’re wondering. h/t to timeanddate.com
I watched the first episode of “My Life As A Rolling Stone” last night. That one focused on Mick Jagger, one of the primary song writers, lead vocalist, and frontman of the band. Naturally The Neurons became very excited. “Oh, I know this song! And this one, too. And I remember this one.” Can’t say which is my favorite Rolling Stone ditty but “I Can’t Get No (Satisfaction)” is memorable for waking up my sleeping rock ‘n roll sensibilities waaayyy back in the mid 1960s, when I was getting more understanding ’bout who I was. So the song is logged into my morning mental music stream today where it hums ’round and ’round. The selected video epitomizes rock ‘n roll, too, with a large screaming crowd, Mick and the boys in strange attire, balloons dropping on everyone, and a fan rushing the stage only to get clocked by the guitarist, Keith. And the song played on.
Stay pos and keep being your fetching self. Coffee has been served for the faithful. Let’s get ready to ride. Here’s the music. Cheers
As we slept, the overlords declared, “This will be Friday, June 23, 2023. Let us see how they take to the change.” So far as I can tell, the reality shuffle didn’t to anything to me, other than that flash in the night when the date and time was established. When you think about it, moving billions of people to another reality is impressive, especially as it takes so little energy and effort. They siphon off less than a quarter teaspoon of the needed energy off of every individual being shifted. Leaves a few people feeling groggy, sure. That’s why the overlords introduced us to coffee.
It’s a warmish June morning, 53 F right now. Heading up the scale to 80 F today. Thunderstorms were being mentioned yesterday when the weather they talked about the forecast. That word left their vocabulary now. Probably because they weren’t expecting the reality shift. Few usually are.
I was chatting with friends the other night. One is an unbridled cat fellow. The other is the father of a daughter who fosters. That’s what started the entire chat; she’d sent pix to him of her new foster. She’d already had a little singleton she was bottling feeding and bringing along. This week, another singleton was introduced so the poor little fellow has a play and cuddle buddy.
Remembering this convo this morning prompted The Neurons to inject David Bowie’s “Cat People (Putting Out Fires)” from 1982. A little rock, techno, and glam folded together, it was written for the movie, Cat People. Wouldn’t say the song is a ‘usual’ Bowie recipe; he frequently reinvented himself. No telling what he would come up with the next time a song or album was released.
Fire up your corporeal being. Stay pos. Drink some coffee, tea, etc., right? Something to light the body and spirit’s burners. Here’s the music. Liftoff.
It’s Thursday, June 22, 2023, according to most reliable data. We’re still sliding into summer mode in Ashlandia. 64 F now, the weather thinkers claim 84 F will be seen in Ashlandia. Last night at the beer ‘bibing, sitting outside, several men complained that the sun was too hot and changed seats to be in the shade. It was 78 F then. It was a wonderfully sun to me. I had no prob basking in its warmth. Maybe I’m part cat. Or part floof. Call me floofman. Sounds like the first line of a novel.
Our house floofs are certainly pleased that the sun’s heat made a comeback. Popping out the door into the backyard after eating, they sat in sunny pools, licking their lips and washing, pausing to look for a noise source or to eye a passing jay. It’s a sight like a calming tonic, seeing them in those relaxed activities. Sip some coffee and watch the cats while enjoying sunshine and relative quiet — distant machiney sounds — cars, trucks, lawnmowers and leaf blowers — crack the absolute stillness — is a fine way to launch a day.
The Neurons wadded up “Have A Nice Day” by the Ramones (1995) in the morning mental music stream. There’s some argument about when it was first used. In the last century, many people found it so trite and overused that it was empty. That’s exactly the Ramones’ point. The lyrics talk about hearing it after all kinds of bad things happen to him. Each time something happened, someone told the secret, “Have a nice day.”
Stay pos. Coffee help sustains me in that effort. Some days need more than others. Here’s the tune. Cheers
Surprised to find Bad Bunny is the world’s #1 musical superstar. But that’s the world’s state on the first day of summer, Wednesday, June 21, 2023. I know some of Bad Bunny’s music. His sound does not generally titillate The Neurons. That happens, and it’s no big deal. Different tastes, preferences, experiences, and interests dictate what we latch onto. But the overall music picture surprises me. Here’s a startling except, with a piece of another article embedded in it, for a rare triple embedding.
But if you want to really be shocked, read this article:
“Bad Bunny songs appeared in the Spotify top 100 more times over the last 2 months than those of Harry Styles, Olivia Rodrigo, Drake and Kendrick Lamar combined. Three of those four acts also released new albums. Post Malone, one of the most popular performers of the last few years, didn’t even crack the top 10.
Now let’s take it a step further. Bad Bunny beat every single record label in the industry. The only label that even came close is Columbia, which charted songs from more than a dozen artists, including Harry Styles, Lil Nas X, Adele and The Kid Laroi. Bad Bunny songs appeared more than twice as many times as acts from Atlantic, home of Ed Sheeran, Bruno Mars, Cardi B, Lizzo and Jack Harlow.”
That’s right, one single artist eclipsed the ENTIRE OUTPUT of every major label.
Talk about a blockbuster business.
As implied, I’m blown away.
It’s a chilly morning in Ashlandia, where the beer is superior and the wine is fabulous. Was 44 F but we’re making up heat, and now, after sunshine’s effects, we’re up to 52. Don’t despair; we’ll climb to 80 F, the weather sprites tell us. Not bad for summer.
This is the mythological longest day of the year for the northern hem. In Ashlandia, we achieved sunrise at 5:33 AM and will strike sunset at 8:52 PM. Not bad for a span of daylight hours.
The Neurons have plugged “The Boys of Summer” by Don Henley (1984) into the morning mental music stream, but I decided to go with The Ataris’ cover from 2003. Nineteen years passed between Henley’s release and The Ataris’ cover; it’s now been twenty since that happened. I think we’re due for another cover.
Stay pos, gang, seriously. The cat just fetched me a cup of coffee. Right. Can anyone imagine that? I can’t, and I have a decently strong imagination. Asked the cat to procure coffee. He just smiled and walked away. Had to get it myself.
“It’s only Tuesday?” I asked the world. “Why does it feel like anything but Tuesday?”
The world mutely pointed me to the calendars. One on my wearable, one on my phone, one on my wall, one on desk, one on my laptop, one on my refrigerator.
“Why do we have so many calendars?”
Two were sent to us in the mail. Bank and animal shelter. I ordered one (which also came by mail) because it memorializes an era of auto racing prevalent during my childhood. The others are digital and come with the package.
Strange, though. The days of the week and date have little meaning for me. Streaming and routines define me, not the calendar, though I bow to the holidays’ existence and do as I must to observe them, succumbing to peer pressure.
But it’s Tuesday, June 20, 2023. Last day of spring in Ashlandia, with a feel lifted right out of spring’s first day, rainy and cold. Rained throughout the morning and early afternoon yesterday in Ashlandia, where the coffee is hot and the cannabis is legal. Only made it to 52 F as a high. Cats were like, screw this noise, wake me when sunshine returns. I replied with all the reasons why we should be grateful for this rain. They responded, got anything to eat?
Today’s high should top the mid-sixties. Clouds are shouldering out the blue sky. Sunshine, which came up strong earlier, is as faded as my hairline.
Got some Fall Out Boy in my morning mental music stream. The Neurons planted “Sugar, We’re Goin Down” (2005) in there when I responded to someone that even if I fail, I’m going to go down swinging. Pop, The Neurons had it loaded like it was ready and waiting. It was last heard as theme music back in August, 2020.
Okay, let’s stay pos out there, sweethearts. I’m drinking coffee and turning in to where I was when I last stopped writing, ginning up the scene, ready to go in there with keyboard blazing. It’s your move.
June showers bring chilly temperatures. It’s Monday, June 19, 2023. Raining. Started about midnight and has been singing from the skies since. 45 F. Not heavy stuff, but still wet and, sporadic. High today will be about 55 F. Yes, here comes summer.
Big battle between our house floofs at 4 AM. Tucker likes to sleep in front of the pet door. Papi enjoys going in and out said pet door. I can only imagine what the ignitor looked like for this incident but battling high notes snapped me out of sleep and launched me across the room yelling, “Hey,” once in a loud and irritated voice. That voice always stops their actions. Learned it in the military as a senior NCO. Worked there, too.
Lot of fur, mostly Papi’s, was left behind. Neither seemed injured. They’d separated themselves. I isolated them for a while as cool down and closed the pet door for business. Letting in cold air anyway. They’re in the house, Tucker asleep back on a bed, Papi asleep on the sofa.
I was remembering a friend this morning. Something about the weather and date triggered thoughts of him. About a year older than me, he passed away seven years ago. An interesting guy and fun to be around. Big Van Halen fan. So after thinking about him as I tended to morning duties and requirements, The Neurons kicked in a Van Halen song, “Runaround” from 1991. Don’t know why they slipped that Van Halen offering into the morning metal music stream. Randy enjoyed watching it being performed while smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer. He’d be outside, window open, watching through it, as smoking in the house wasn’t permitted. The song’s words make little sense. Lots of innuendo but it’s all about Eddie and the guitar, isn’t it?
Stay pos, if and when you can. Bounce back if you fall. I’m about to embrace a cup of coffee and study the rainfall for a bit. Then it’s get up and move, move, move.
Michael Seidel, writer 