Category: childhood

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: giddy

Beautiful windy, cloudy, sunny Saturday morning in Ashlandia, where the drivers are average and polite, but getting hit while you’re walking is close to happening all the time. The temperature is 54 F. Light rain might visit, and our high temperature will only be 57 F, but that’s better than 47 F.

It’s November 18, 2023, already. Counting down to all those things that are growing more and more imminent, from tests for students to mark the year’s end or term’s end, to buying presents and cooking foods for different holidays, to making travel arrangements to visit family or run away to somewhere warmer. All of these things speak from positions of privilege and having the money and food security to make these plans. Too, too many people will be scrambling as they have for years, trying to be safe, have a warm place for themselves and their families to sleep, and a decent meal. Their reasons for those situations are many; some are from choices made, but others arrived at their precarious situation through discrimination and bias, personal disasters, or mental health matters. Hope you can keep them in mind and help them out some during this season of celebration.

It’s time for the Leonids meteor show again. I went out to look for them last night, but the sky wasn’t cooperative. While Thursday night was fantastically clear, Friday night was hopelessly overcast. Bummer to me as I like watching the streaks and think about where they’ve been and what they represent. Three trips outside were done, and nada was seen but clouds and light pollution.

The Neurons popped an Isley Brothers song from 1970 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark marginal). “Freedom” is a song off an album called Get Into Something. I first heard it at the house of a girl I was seeing, but it was her mother playing the album. Her mom was about my mom’s age, but their musical selections seemed very different. As a thirteen-year-old heading for fourteen, I found myself listening intently to the vocals and the lyrics, and enjoying the instrumental elements of this R&B sound. I’d heard R&B previously but this was like, wow, there is such energy.

Let me tell you, this particular song, “Freedom” is so apropos as today’s theme music. Check out these lyrics.

Well, I wanna say, I wanna tell you
I wanna say when you can do what you wanna do
And go where you wanna go
And live where you wanna live
And love who you wanna love

And be what you wanna be
Join what you wanna join
Well, well, well, that’s freedom
Yeah, yeah, freedom, yes sir

When you can learn what you wanna learn
And read what you wanna read
(Free, free, free)

And write what you wanna write
(Free, free, free)
Do what you feel is right
(Free, free, free)

h/t to Songlyrics.com

Because, I’m remembering this song at a time when a group of misnamed people called “Moms for Liberty” are getting books banned, so students can’t read what they want to read. Red state school systems are pushing to limit what is taught so you can’t learn what you want to learn. And you can’t be who you want to be when state legislatures are making shit up and declaring that people who aren’t binary can’t decide what pronoun they will use or love who they want to love because these narrow-minded cultural dictators think that love and sex is only between a man and a woman. So, “Freedom” by the Isley Brothers is a solid theme music choice for this new wave Era of Repression and Fear that Republicans are pushing.

Stay positive, be strong, and lean forward with optimism and courage toward a brighter future of freedom, equality, and justice. As Martin Luther King, Jr., said, as written in a 1918 book, “Readings from Great Authors”, attributed to Theodore Parker, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” h/t to quoteinvestigator.com.

Ah, the sun is shining and rain is falling. There’s a rainbow somewhere. Here’s the music. See you at the coffee maker. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: measured

Slept in late, stayed with the cat.

A flourish of color and wind heralded Wednesday’s daybreak on November 15, 2023 in Ashlandia, where red-leaved maples are spectacular and plentiful, shimmering with a tree full of leaves like they’re lit from within. After rain dusted us for a few nocturnal hours, it’ll be dry for the day’s remaining hours. 54 F now, we’re reaching for 62 F today under a sky where sun and clouds continue their seasonal skirmish. Sunshine is mostly winning, and the day feels fine under a balmy autumn wind that tears leaves off the trees and carries them on whirling rides.

The 15th of the month was payday for me for most of my military career, a day which we looked forward to when I was a lowly paid airman. In the latter stages of my career, the government announced we’d only be paid once per month going forward to save the gov. money. That forced many people to be more circumspect with how they spent, impelling people who habitually went payday to payday, comfortable in the half-month increments, into planning what and when to spend to make it last.

I slept in late today, staying abed until after nine. Wasn’t a plan; cozy and warm, with Tucker, the black and white long hair floof sharing my pillow, purring like an idling tractor, The Neurons said, “Let’s just stay here.” Didn’t even consult me. Then Tucker raised his head and sneezed across my face, ending the sleep-in with a jolt. Rolling out, feet thumping the floor, I hastened to the bathroom and rinsed off my face, giving particular focus to my mouth. I’m not a germophobe but if I was setting up a dating profile, cat drool across my lips would be listed as a turnoff.

I thanked him for getting me up and then went into the feeding ritual. Papi hurried in for his portion, patiently sitting and watching, only vocalizing his needs after I picked up his bowl to set onto the floor. Then it was like Papi was suddenly starving as a hunger-driven long wail of desire was unleashed. Still, as I set the bowl down, he took a few moments to head bump my arm and hand several times and purr before dropping his head to the bowl and plowing in.

As if now making fun of me because I was late, dashing around, muttering to myself, “Got to step it up a few gears,” The Neurons delivered a 1970 song called “Give Me Just a Little More Time” by Chairmen of the Board to the morning mental music stream (Trademark skipping). The song came out when I was thirteen, and I always enjoyed the drama and urgency the vocalist emoted. Some might label it over the top, but I felt some kinship with the message presented as I trekked the hormone trippy path of understanding sex, love, and other emotions as a teenager. I’m still working onit.

Stay positive, be strong, and lean forward. Coffee has been consumed and is kicking in, giving me a heartbeat and clearing the fog out of my head. Here we go. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

A conversation with friends about fire ants reminded me of the places where my family lived.

My oldest sister was born in Des Moines, Iowa. I was born in Arlington, Virginia. My next sister was born in San Antonio, Texas, then my late brother was born (and died) in Fairfax, Virginia.

The family split, courtesy of a divorce. My two little sisters via Mom were born in Wilkinsburg, Pennsylvania, and Penn Hills, Pennsylvania.

My two little brothers from Dad’s side were born in Beckley, West Virginia (where my youngest brother also died).

I guess that it’s little wonder that wanderlust plagued me by the time I was seventeen and joined the military to see the world. It shouldn’t be a surprise that after almost twenty years of living in Ashlandia (the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere), I’m ready to move again.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: reflective

It’s Saturday again in Ashlandia, where time just goes round and round, it seems, November 4, 2023, by date. 60 F outside after a rainy night, a hefty wind moves colorful leaves as clouds regroup on the horizons, leaving sunny blue sky overhead. Our high today will be 69 F.

Reading the news, reflecting upon how often history does repeat itself, pondering what is and what will never be, The Neurons permit Willie Nelson into the morning mental music stream (Trademark fading). In 1961, Willie wrote a song called “Funny How Time Slips Away”. I became familiar with it sometime during my childhood. Many performers and groups have sung this song since Willie first put the words down. This version by him singing on a stage, surrounded by others, broadcast in 1997, is one of my favorite renditions. Willie always sings from the heart with a thoughtful air.

Stay positive, be strong, and lean forward, no matter how that wind blows. Coffee is being served up, per standard household practice. I hope you enjoy the video and song as much as I do. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: coffeemistic

Sunny blue skies greeted me in my home in Ashlandia, where orange barrels block streets as paving, repairs, and improvements continue and the roads are above average.

Already November 3, 2023, some folks are marking their calendars for next year’s elections. It’s also Friday, end of the work week for some and beginning of the weekend fun for others. Those of us in a quasi-, semi-, or permanent retirement state mostly look at the door with an eye toward social engagements. ‘Work’ except as volunteers, has mostly been dismissed.

As I prepared the floof royalty’s meals this morning, a glance out the window found gray smudges defacing the blue-sky fall scene. At least, I hope it’s fog, I thought with a chortle, and then imagined other possibilities, entertaining myself as I went about my business. Another glance out, and I perceived a wall of fall stealing in from the northwest quadrant. Six minutes later, the fog presented a solid front and the sky was gray. An hour after that, the fog is gone.

While it’s 48 now, we’re expecting our high to be in the upper sixties, ingredients for a enjoyable autumn day.

Moving on toward the theme song, a friend queried a group of us by email, do you remember this song? Who sang it? He was just playing around, of course:

He wears tan shoes with pink shoelaces
A polka dot vest and man, oh, man
He wears tan shoes with pink shoelaces
And a big Panama with a purple hat band

It’s Dodie Stevens with “Pink Shoe Laces” from 1961, of course. That started a firestorm of memories for the group and their wives. One spouse was really excited because it was her and her sister’s favorite song. They played it all the time while dancing around the house. Remember this, she began singing it and dancing around the house, and then called her sister, and they had Siri playing the song on the phone while they danced and laughed.

That opened the door on a vault in my head, where certain songs I know but am not crazy about resides. Reaching in, The Neurons pulled out a 1958 novelty song, “Beep Beep” by the Playmates and have it on loop in my morning mental music stream (Trademark dashing).

Behind the song is a car, a Rambler, product in my lifetime of a now defunct US car company, the American Motors Corporation. I had a friend with a Rambler. Although old, we used it to sneak people into the drive-in theater in the little car’s spacious trunk in the early 1970s. It was just like the one in the photo.

Also featured in the song was a Cadillac, a car much more expensive than the Rambler. More expensive, the Cadillac had a larger engine and was more powerful, capable of greater acceleration and top speed than the Rambler. That forms the song’s gist as the Rambler tails the Cadillac and the Cadillac keeps speeding up to get away, but can’t, astonishing and amazing to the Caddy driver. As this unfolds during the song, the song’s tempo keeps increasing until the punchline when the Rambler driver pulls alongside and asks, “Hey buddy, how do I get this car out of second gear?”

While riding in my Cadillac, what, to my surprise,
A little Nash Rambler was following me, about one-third my size.
The guy must have wanted it to pass me up
As he kept on tooting his horn. Beep! Beep!
I’ll show him that a Cadillac is not a car to scorn.

Refrain:
Beep, beep. (Beep, beep.)
Beep, beep. (Beep, beep.)
His horn went, beep, beep, beep. (Beep! Beep!).

I pushed my foot down to the floor to give the guy the shake,
But the little Nash Rambler stayed right behind; he still had on his brake.
He must have thought his car had more guts
As he kept on tooting his horn. Beep! Beep!
I’ll show him that a Cadillac is not a car to scorn.

Beep, beep. (Beep, beep.)
Beep, beep. (Beep, beep.)
His horn went, beep, beep, beep. (Beep! Beep!).

My car went into passing gear and we took off with dust.
And soon we were doin’ ninety, must have left him in the dust.
When I peeked in the mirror of my car,
I couldn’t believe my eyes.
The little Nash Rambler was right behind, you’d think that guy could fly.

Beep, beep. (Beep, beep.)
Beep, beep. (Beep, beep.)
His horn went, beep, beep, beep. (Beep! Beep!).

Now we’re doing a hundred and ten, it certainly was a race.
For a Rambler to pass a Caddy would be a big disgrace.
For the guy who wanted to pass me,
He kept on tooting his horn. Beep! Beep!
I’ll show him that a Cadillac is not a car to scorn.

Beep, beep. (Beep, beep.)
Beep, beep. (Beep, beep.)
His horn went, beep, beep, beep. (Beep! Beep!).

Now we’re doing a hundred and twenty, as fast as I could go.
The Rambler pulled alongside of me as if I were going slow.
The fellow rolled down his window and yelled for me to hear,
Hey, buddy, how can I get this car out of second gear?

h/t SongFacts.com

What a hoot, when I was young. I would sing it in the car with Mom as we drove along, driving her a little nuts.

Stay pos, be strong, and keep leaning forward and reaching for the stars. Coffee is being consumed and the sun is shining. And away we go.

Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: unsteady

Another Monday is about us in Ashlandia, where the rain falls mainly in the valley, and the streams and rivers swell with the results.

The weather is 52 F, cloudy and rainy. Forecasters warn that today’s high will be 65 F, with intermittent clouds, but it won’t rain. It’s a good coffee and reading day.

As for the world outside of Ashlandia, there were no overnight miracles. The news reports that the ongoing wars are still ongoing, one in Europe, and one in the middle-east. Besides those two, the GOP still wars with the GOP in the US. I don’t look for a quick or happy resolution to the war in the middle-east, but expect it to trudge on as has happened with Russia and Ukraine in Europe.

The GOP war with themselves reminds me of MAD Magazine’s Spy vs. Spy feature, with less humor.

To summarize, led by the hardline Gang of Eight, the Republicans outsted their own guy as Speaker, Kevin McCarthy, even though they’re all part of the majority party nominally known as the GOP. Since booting McCarthy, the House has not been functioning much.

Note: the House wasn’t doing much before losing its Speaker, mostly because the GOP was determined to be the Grand OBSTRUCTIONIST Party. This is largely because a Democrat is POTUS, and most of the GOP’s ideas involve stripping rights from others, banning books, and keeping fossil fuels as the nation’s primary energy source.

Steve Scalise, House Majority Leader, R-La, tried and failed to become the new House Speaker, and withdrew after that one attempt.

Jim Jordan, a hardliner from Ohio, tried and failed after three rounds of voting to become Speaker. Just couldn’t find the votes. He’s considered too hard right and has never been known to compromise. Besides that, he has a poor legislative record.

“Critics of Rep. Jim Jordan (R-Ohio) have increasingly pointed to this – most notably the fact that he has yet to get a bill signed into law since being elected in 2006.” h/t to UnionLeader.com.

A line during Saturday Night Live’s cold open captured the essence of Jim Jordan’s attempt to be Speaker: “I want to be Speaker so that government starts functioning again so I can shut it down.” That’s the gist of Jordan’s politics. He doesn’t like ‘big’ government.

These wars complicate the world’s already precarious situation. The biggest crises we face in 2023 is growing food shortages and rising food costs, per ReliefWeb. Food shortages are worsening because war is tearing up farms and arable land, and growing extreme weather is damaging crops and disrupting growing seasons.

What a mess we’re in, and so much of it is brought on by our own actions. But just as so many addicts of drugs and addictives are helpless to save themselves, so it seems, are we.

Let’s go on to more pleasant matters, like music.

My wife was telling me a story about a conversation between her and some friends. I thought, “Oh, shit, sparks are going to fly now,” as I laughed, because I knew the husband and wife involved and how they were going to react.

Boom, The Neurons pounced, delivering “Master of Sparks” by ZZ Top into my head, where it remains in the morning mental music stream (Trademark sagging). This feels like a case of needing to play it for others to unloop it from my mental music stream, so here we are, me presenting it to you as Monday’s theme music.

The song is part of the first ZZ Top album I ever listened to, Tres Hombres, from 1973. I was seventeen. My buddy, Scott, brought it into high school art class as part of the established routine of listening to music while drawing and painting. One take of that album and I was smitten.

“Master of Sparks” turned out to be one of those songs that caught my attention as I was drawing because I was struggling to figure out what it was about. “What are they singing, Scott?” I asked. He brought it in, so I thought he’d know.

Sweeping his long bangs off his face, he grinned at me with big eyes. “I don’t know. Sounds cool, though doesn’t it?”

Scott introduced me to many new rock bands during that time, and shaped my musical preferences. Highly intelligent, athletic, and creative, Scott started at our school in my junior year after being tossed out from a well-regarded prep school. We shared multiple classes and were on several sports teams together. We also were both very rebellious.

Taking the question seriously, Scott returned two days later and told me that “Master of Sparks” is telling a story about a ball-shaped steel cage that the narrator was in. My reaction was basically, “Whaaa?”

Scott explained that he and Rick listened to it again and again at Scott’s house, and decided that’s what the song was about. Thanks to the net, I know they were right.

High class Slim came floating in
Down from the county line
Just getting right on Saturday night
Riding with some friends of mine
They invited me to come and see
Just what was on their minds
And then I took my first long look
At the Master of Sparks on high

In the back of Jimmy’s Mack
Stood a round steel cage
Welded into shape by Slim
Made out of sucker gauge
How fine, they cried now with you inside
Strapped in there safe and sound
I thought, my-o-my, how the sparks will fly
If that thing ever hit the ground

Slim was so pleased when I had eased
Into his trap of death
He had slammed the door but I said no more
And I thought I’d breathed my last breath
We was out in the sticks down Highway Six
And the crowd was just about right
The speed was too, so out I flew
Like a stick of rolling dynamite

When I hit the ground
You could hear the sound
And see the sparks a country mile
End over end I began to spin
But the ball started running wild
But it was too late as I met my fate
And the ball started getting hot
But through the sparks and the flame
I knew that the claim
Of the Master of Sparks was gone

h/t AZLyrics.com

Onward, my friends. Stay pos and be strong, and let’s press forward. But first, coffee.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

The net can be a dizzying roller coaster. Bad news headlines, followed by humor on a friend’s blog, then disastrous breaking news, chased by sweet floof photos, which give way to dire predictions, trailed by fascinating new scientific or historic findings, war and political updates, and book reviews.

I ride throughout the day, breaking off to soothe myself with my personal writing, and then releasing all the pent tension with a relaxing game or two (or four). You know, Wordle. Spelling Bee. Sudoku.

How different from my youth. We watched television together in the family room — ‘in color’ — so it was a consensus choice. Five channels were available: PBS, the big three, and one UHF channel that washed in and out on a sea of static. Sitcoms (“Green Acres”), dramas (“Gunsmoke) and thrillers (“The Man From U.N.C.L.E.”) entertained us, or the Movie of the Week, delivering Psycho, Seven Days in May, and The Sound of Music, among a plethora of others.

Then I consider how different my mother’s childhood was. She was a little girl in Turin, Iowa, during the Depression and World War II, eating popcorn and listening to a radio with her family, or going to the hardware store to watch “I Love Lucy” on the only television in their small town.

Reaching further back, I struggle with visualizing how it was in my grandfather’s youth. He helped establish Turin a few decades before Mom was born. Guess I’ll surf the net about it and see what I find.

Once on the roller coaster, getting off it isn’t easy.

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: upbeat

Let me introduce you. This is Monday, July 24, 2023. It’s a day which can really help you. You should get to know it.

Today’s weather in Ashlandia, where the cost of living is high and the less-fortunate struggle, finds the air stopping at 88 F. It’s 64 F, and I’ll tell you, brothers and sisters, that cool air feels so good to my skin. Goes well with hot coffee. Yes, I’ve already started downing a cup.

Smoke finally reached us in a serious manner last night. Kicked our AQI into unhealthy levels and was a stench in the air. Shut offended windows. Fortunately, not all required they be closed. Just the northern and western in our arc of Ashlandia.

The Neurons have planted “Secret Agent Man” by Johnny Rivers from the mid-sixties in the morning mental music stream (trademark dangerous). Secret Agent was a television show of the time in the US, a rebooted version of the Brit show, Danger Man. SA starred Patrick McGoohan. I wasn’t a huge fan that I recall, but I remember several extended family members would put it on when we were at Grandma & Grandpa’s house, and I’d watch. My preferred spy show was The Man from U.N.C.L.E. I adopted that in a big way.

Anyway, “Secret Agent Man” is in my stream because I started singing it to my cat. Floofurally, my version was “Secret Agent Floof”. This was dedicated to Papi because after he ate today, I’d find him peering around corners. When I said his name or went to visit with him, he’d galloped away on a mission, only to return a short time later. Ah, floof games in the morning.

So, I have my coffee, and I’m drinking it. You can have some of your own if you wish. Or something else. Whatever works for you, within the bounds of — well, you know the bounds. Don’t go out of bounds. Stay pos and strong, and don’t let the world’s multiple messes undercut your spirit. You can do this.

Here’s the music. Sound and pic sync is a little off. Tech. What can I say? Cheers

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Details

I remember a time –

It might have been in the sixties. Or maybe the seventies.

I think I was living in Pennsylvania then. Or Ohio.

And I was probably in –

Let me think.

I was born in 1956 so if it was in the sixties, I would have probably been thirteen or so.

So, no.

No, I think I was older than that.

So it must have been in the 1970s when this happened.

Yes, that’s right. I was in high school.

It was a sunny day.

Dad and I – he had his red Thunderbird then –

Oh, no, wait, he had the Monte Carlo, the burgundy Monte Carlo.

You know the model, the one with the swoopy lines, and the captain’s chairs?

He bought that new in 1974.

Had to be 1974 because I graduated that year, and I remember driving that car.

Then I left home.

Oh, and we were living in Virginia. That’s right.

I remember now. It’s all coming back.

It was ’74.

Anyway, Dad and I were in the car together, going somewhere.

I think it was a Sunday.

Yes, it must have been a Sunday, because he was off.

We were going to a restaurant for dinner.

Which surprised me. He suggested it. We never went out for dinner, he and I.

It was just us living together then.

Yes, I remember, we went to an Italian restaurant. He had the veal parm.

I don’t know what I had.

Anyway, let me finish.

We were in the Monte Carlo.

And he said, “What do you plan to do with your life?”

The question surprised me.

He never asked me these things.

Shrugging after a few seconds, I answered, “I don’t know.

“What did you plan to do with your life?”

We came to a red traffic light. He stopped the car behind the other cars.

We were the fourth car.

The car in front of us was a pickup truck.

Dad looked out the windshield straight ahead until the light turned green.

Then, as we started forward, he said, “Touché.”

2

Thursday’s Theme Music

Welcome back to Ashlandia, where the men are fit and the women are fitter.

It’s Thursday, July 20, 2023. In brief, it’s 69, clear but smoky, with a high in the upper 90s, depending on how much smoke rolls in. We’re in the yellow zone of the AQI’s spectrum about how healthy the air is. I’m trying to figure out whether this smoke is coming up from California or over from the Flat fire in Agnes, Oregon. Might be both.

Today’s music is “Tomorrow Never Knows” by the Beatles, 1966. When I first heard it as a teenager, I was ‘interested’ in its sounds. It was later, while reading the Tibetan Book of the Dead that the song grew more enticing. That took place during my mysticism exploration era, which roughly began when I was nineteen and stationed with the military in the Philippines, and lasted a few years. Never took LSD, but I was instructed in transcendental meditation and meditated each day for over a decade.

I haven’t heard this song in a long time, at least twenty years, I think. Came about today I think because Les Neurons caught me thinking about the beginning of different things. That brought about that long period of the song when Lennon is singing, “in the beginning, in the beginning.” Next thing I know, it’s playing in the morning mental music stream (trademark pretended).

Stay as positive and strong as you can. I can it can sometimes feel like work. Sometimes, it is work, I think. Hopefully, good will come to you from being positive, strong, and shall we add optimistic? I’ve had some coffee, so, sure, let’s through optimistic in there.

Okay, ready? Three…two…one…let’s begin with your mantra. Ooommm. Here’s the music. Cheers

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