Hear ye, hear ye, Saturday, October 16, 2021, is underway. Let the games begin.
Sunrise spanked us at 7:25 this morning in the valley. Warmer air dominates today. It’s already 56 and we expect a high of 79 degrees F. Should be a glorious autumn day before sunset takes place at 6:28 PM. Our air quality is stellar at a clear and fresh 10 as rain and cooler air helps us in the fight against wildfires. Containment is increasing. We take a breath of relief that another season has been survived. It has its costs, though, as wildfires destruction in 2021 in the U.S. is expected to cost between 70 and 90 billion dollars, along with lives lost.
I found myself walking around in circles this AM. Catering to cats, you know. Fickle felines. Want in, want out, want that food, this food, no, pet me, pet me, pet me, let’s go play! I did the feeding, a little ear and chin scratching, and then attempted to deal with my essentials — food and coffee. When all settled down I chuckled at hearing a song by Soul Coughing called “Circles” circling the morning mental music stream. The song was released in 1998. I probably wouldn’t be familiar with it but I had a friend and co-worker, Saba, who knew it. She’d already introduced me to the Squirrel Nut Zippers and Violent Femmes. Now, on a lunch run where she was driving, she called up “Circles” and introduced me to Coughing Soul.
So, here’s to Saba and her wonderful influence. Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get a vax if you can. Enjoy the music while I ensure the dark deliciousness served as coffee. Cheers
Good morning, fellow pumpkin spice heads. C’est moi, coming at you undead from Ashland, Oregon, in the Pacific Northwest of the United States. Today is Friday, October 15, 2021. Please set that to memory; you may be called upon to tell another later. Of course, being of retired military mind, the fifteenth was the middle-of-the-month payday during my working military life, when we, the enlisted, could rush out and buy groceries, gas up the car, and pay bills.
Sunrise was another glorious, steady rise of golden light, like a veil being pulled off night, that came at 7:23 AM. Temperature was a fur-chilling 40 F at that point. I know because the ginger boi, aka Meep, aka Papi, came in and told me, “Chilly out. Feel my fur.” Which I did, telling him, “Oh, your fur is cold.” He replied, “Meep, purr.” I assume that meant, I know. Sunset will come at, oh, 6:29 PM, according to the old farmer’s google. Temperatures will rise to the mid-fifties again, before falling into the high thirties after we’ve rotated away from the sun’s assistance. Such small windows of comfort, innit?
Today’s offering in my morning mental music stream comes from the Moody Blues and 1971. Yes, there is a line of lyrics involved. At some point yesterday, while in the snug discussing something, another something — a noise — from where? — who knows? — popped into our awareness. A what’s that, I don’t know, convo followed as we half-heartedly pursued the answer to this sound mystery. I mentioned at one point, “Listen. It sounds like it’s slowly turning.” After I’d walked away from that major, earth-shaking interruption to our routine, when I was in the kitchen, the song’s line, “Listen to the tide slowly turning,” whispered in my ears. The song then came on in full.
Of course, the progressive fusion of classical, folk, and rock that is “The Story in Your Eyes” aligns with my optimism. I often believe the tide is slowly turning. We’re slowly becoming less warlike. We’d probably make better progress in that were it not for the global defense industry and the need to make profits but killing others in the name of peace and security. Likewise, I’m always sure that the tide of justice, freedom, and equality is slowly turning, too. Someday, we’ll also unite to address climate change, right? Probably not until most of the lower ranks of people are standing up to their armpits in water, but I’m hopeful it’ll come before then.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, get the vax, sing a song, dance a little, laugh a lot, and have some fun. Here’s the music. Enjoy the photos of the band in their youth. My hot, black coffee is also here. Must drink it before it grows too cold. Cheers
We were located in an old service station garage. Tall glass garage doors along either side. It’s raining on one side. Just splatter against the window. Through it, I can see another building. I know it’s a coffee house. I can see one person in there, a tall, slender, white, blonde woman with short, curly hair. I want to go over and have coffee. I will when I’m done, I keep telling myself.
I’m conducting two activities in parallel. In one, I’m in charge of a class where people are learning to play music to calm and relax people. Mixed in with the people learning that are people there for advice on retired life. Both are packed classes. One group is filling out paperwork and asking me questions; the other group is selecting music, playing it on radios, and asking me questions. I walk among them, helping, talking, instructing. We’re all tired. We’ve been up a long time. I’d been up over twenty-four hours. I want to go get coffee. Then go to sleep.
We’re done. Classes are finished. The class members all lie down on the floor to rest just for a few minutes. Two ask me questions, one from each class. Settling on the floor with them, I answer, “I didn’t hear your questions. Were they about music or retiring?”
A foggy autumn day. Reds, golds, and greens shimmer faintly in the wet air. Sunshine is diluted and gray as dirty dish water.
This is Sunday, October 10, 2021. Sunrise was at 7:18 AM. Sunset: 6:37 PM. Temperature: 51. Forecast high: 55. The AQI is 13.
Early morning was dependent on minimalism. Basic elements. Breathe. Stand. Walk. Left foot, right foot. (Cue The Simpons.) This way. Feed the cats. They were urging me, faster, faster, me-now. Okay. That got done with little incident (although a lot of feline drama.) Now. Coffee. Nothing else matters. Not yet. Ah, there. A pulse.
But. My mental Alexa (my own private Alexa) had picked up on ‘nothing else matters’. Played the Metallica 1992 tune by that name for me. It’s looping through the morning mental musical stream. My pre-coffee voice sounded like Hetfield’s low, guttural growl employed throughout the song. I pass it on to you.
Stay positive. Test negative. Wear a mask as needed. Get the vax. Here’s the music. Coffee is getting cold. See ya.