Category: health

Friday’s Theme Music

Flooding in Europe. Wildfires all over the U.S. west. Record heat waves. Drought. COVID-19 cases spiking. It’s too much for a Friday. I’m going back to bed.

Today is July 16, 2021. Bad news sometimes seems overwhelming. Dark stories past those headline blares paint scenes of death, destruction, and despair. Unless you’re wealthy. Then it’s woo-hoo, life is grand.

Daylight hours seems to be drawing down fast. Maybe it feels like that because of dark news. Sunrise was at 5:49 AM. Less than fifteen hours later will come sunset, 8:45 PM. Temperatures are at least down. Feels chilly with temperatures in the mid sixties this morning. The sky is clear, though, and we’ll probably see 90 F again this afternoon. Although forecast to have a high of 84 yesterday, we saw 93.

I’m always disappointed when Alexa is wrong about the weather. She’s never apologetic about it. Never mentions getting it wrong.

Today’s song is by 311. “Amber” (2001) is about the color of someone’s energy. My energy had been high. Then came irrigation drip problems disrupting my plans, requiring digging to learn what has gone wrong. While doing that, the song came unbidden to mind. So, here we are.

Stay positive — you know, as I do (hah!) — test negative, wear a mask, and get the vax. Here’s the music. I’m going to go get my coffee. It won’t necessarily lift my spirits but will inure me against feeling so damn down. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

“And the beat goes on. Drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain. La di da da dee.”

Welcome to this version of Wednesday. It’s July 14, 2021, the only time it’ll ever be this day and date. The future is now.

Sol’s first rays struck at 5:47 AM. Sunset will be at 8:46 PM. Temperatures are cooler today, 90 degrees. That’s good news for fighting and containing the Bootleg Fire. 100 miles to the east, it has burned through over 212000 acres. Although now eight days old, it’s zero contained and has burned down transmission lines, disrupting power to California while filling the area’s air with smoke.

It’s not the only worrying fire. Just the biggest and most fierce. Meanwhile, COVID-19 case numbers are rising again. Only sporadic evidence but I suspect the ABC gang — anything but COVID believers — happily embraced no masks and no vaccines as variants turn up. Perfect storm of ignorance and mutation, giving new life to COVID-19. The stories keep coming out about those people, like the 23-year-old emergency room news who died of it. A denier to the end, she was never vaccinated. Her parents have tested positive for COVID-19 as well. Sad situation. Worse because it could have been averted.

Well, get the vax, wear a mask as needed, stay positive, and test negative. Here’s some Midnight Oil from 1990 with “Blue Sky Mine”. Cheers

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Under Where?

My Great Underwear change is not progressing with the dreamed-of joy conjured when the great change began.

Setting the scene, I’ve been a boxer wearer for decades, migrating from other styles while I was younger. Recently, while shopping, I spied other underwear on the shelves. Why, the materials were different. And the shapes! Perhaps I will try these newfangled garments.

I bought two styles. One was purchased at Costco. Kirkland. The second, Body Glove, was purchased at Kohl’s. Both are elasticized cotton or something. Boxer shorts. That’s where their overlapping identities end.

The Kirklands went on first. Wow, comfy. Very nice. Useful and expected, it had that vent up front that negates the need to drop trou and sit to pee. I know females are shrugging, “So you have to pull down your underwear, sit and pee instead of standing? Welcome to my world. Is standing to pee really so special? Got any other tricks?”

No, that’s my one trick.

Standing to urinate isn’t the world’s most amazing feat but I’m used to it. I’m in my mid-sixties. Learning new information is challenging. Especially when it comes to the body. The body is already rewriting its rules on its activities, sending out new advisories without warning whenever it feels like it.

“Hey, don’t move like that!”

I was in the process of sitting down. “But I’ve always moved like that.”

“Well, stop it.”

“Why?”

“Don’t question me! I don’t like it. And put that doughnut down. What’s wrong with you? Now go pee.”

“Again? But I just peed two — “

“Don’t talk back! Pee! Now!”

“Okay, okay, okay…” Grumble, grumble, grumble.

That’s why I still stand to pee: because I can. I almost feel young again, you know?

So the Kirkland shorts work. The Body Glove? Umm, no.

They were comfy. At first. But, they didn’t have that useful front vent.

I was surprised. I thought the vent was a requirement. I speculated, maybe men are all starting to sit down to pee, so the vent isn’t required.

It is possible. I’m not always up on the latest happenings. Take, if you will, ball deodorants. I saw a post on Trouserdog while I was flipping through the net: “How to Stop Smelly and Sweaty Balls — Defunk Your Junk”.

Yes, it is an arresting title.

I’ve never considered a need for ball deodorant. Sure, my hairy sack sometimes sweats. Smells can ensue. That’s why I wash. A quick wash and they smell fresh as rain. A sweaty/stinky testicular area didn’t seem to be a problem. Maybe it’s been one and others are too polite to mention it. Perhaps, after walking away, people turn to one another and whisper, “Did you smell him?” My wife has never said anything. Neither have my cats, who are some of the most critical creatures I know.

The second offense against the Body Glove undies is a classic: they shrank. A lot. The comfortable tight fit now felt like a girdle or leather pants encasing my skin like a sausage, i.e., tight as hell. Now, it could be that I’d gained weight. I’ll give you that. But to have gained that weight, my other clothes would also need to no longer fit or fit differently. That wasn’t happening.

I gave the BGs two additional tries after that first washing. You know, more data. They became worse and worse. Waist bands flipped over. Legs rolled up. No, I told myself. I’m too old to endure this crap. Off you go. I banished them to the giveaway pile.

Yet, the experiments have intrigued me. I saw undies that have a cool sack to keep my Johnson more comfy on these hot days. They might even keep my junk from getting sweaty and funky. I’m willing to try them as long as they’re vented and I can stand and deliver.

If my body says it’s okay. It always has the last say.

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Messages On A Mountain: A Dream

This was a wild one. Beginning with me dressed in faded raspberry-colored running shorts and a tee shirt, I ran up and down this mountain, receiving, carrying, and delivering messages. The weather was fine, the mountain, high, rocky, and steep, but dotted with bushes and trees. The more I did it, the more effortless it became. I was having fun and getting in great shape, becoming trimmer and more muscular.

All walks of people from my life lined the mountains as I went about my business, including sisters, wife, and friends from different life eras. I stopped to chat with some on some runs. Many commented on my improved physical form, which, yes, made me happy.

A break was taken for a meal. My mother- and father-in-law, both deceased, were present, along with my wife, cousins, and others. Overall, it was a small gathering. My father-in-law and I were preparing the meal, with him more or less guiding me as I worked out what needed to be done. People were seated, waiting to be served. They were along one wall, backs to it, with a table in front of him. I noted that the table was too high and said so to my father-in-law. A cousin pointed out that folded tables along the wall would probably work. I unfolded one and confirmed its height was the ideal height for an eating surface.

I drifted off to another location. We discovered time was going backward. Was it time going backward or our perception that was askew? Perhaps reality was twisted, or was it just our perception of reality. Or was it just the clocks going backwards? Tests were made and the conclusion was reached, yes, time seemed to be going in reverse. Sunrises became sunsets. People, cars, and animals traveled backward. What was causing this and what did it mean?

I discovered that I could drink water and return the clocks to their normal running. Something would happen to cause the reverse order. We learned what but I can’t recall it now. Whenever that happened, though, I drank water and all returned to normal. After testing this for myself and verifying it, I started showing it to the others and explaining it. I discovered that I lost my running shorts, so I was naked from the waist down. That didn’t bother me, or anyone else. I demonstrated again and again that my drinking water restored proper reality. As I showed it to the collective, each required personal observation that it worked. The question became, would drinking water restore reality for others?

That’s when the dream ended.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Today’s magic numbers in Ashland are… (Drumroll please.) 5:46 AM and 8:43 PM. These are the times when the Earth’s natural movement brings that sun into our area and takes it back away.

Cool air dominates today. We did hit 90 degrees F yesterday. Today it looks like high seventies/low eighties for us today.

The music comes from exchanges on someone else’s blog site. Medication was the topic, and the warning, “Don’t take whatever drug if you’re allergic to it.” Nice disclaimer, trying to shift blame from the medical profession over to the patient. “We told him not to take it if he’s allergic to it.” Meanwhile, most meds come with disclaimers about all the stuff they might do to you while they’re fixing you. You’ve probably heard/seen them, so I won’t repeat them. Naturally, they have drugs to deal with the side effects of your drugs. Then the drugs you take to fix those side effects have their own side effects, for which more drugs are prescribed. Like a pyramid scheme, isn’t it?

That took me to thinking about drug and pills and a song about the same from 2005, “Save Me” by Shinedown.

Someone save me if you will
And take away all these pills
And please just save me if you can
From my blasphemy in my wasteland

How did I get here
And what went wrong
Couldn’t handle forgiveness
Now I’m far beyond gone

h/t AZLyrics.com

We often ask ourselves, “How did I get here? What went wrong?” Sometimes you didn’t do anything wrong. You just lived and shit happened. Genetics asserted themselves. You got trapped in another’s mess. A bullet goes astray, a car misses a turn, a good intention goes awry, a politician lies. Hell, the way messes are built and multiplied, it’s easy enough in this modern existence, innit?

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask when needed, and get the vax. Cheers

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Infloofgestion

Infloofgestion (floofinition) – Inability or unwillingness to eat food due to distractions by an animal, or worries and concerns about animal.

In use: “Once Meg returned home after dropping her Beagle off at the vet for surgery, she turned off everything, and sat and stared through the day, unable to eat because of infloofgestion.”

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Monday’s Theme Music

5:42 AM came, bringing the sun — or did the sun bring the time? These are the things that are pondered when you awaken at an unexpected moment, along with the name of a favorite restaurant that you ate at one time in 1997, and obscure information, such as, what is the capitol of Paraguay, and other lines from Billy Collins’ poem, “Forgetfulness”. Then you find yourself trying to remember “What Dogs Think” and “A Dog on His Master” by Billy Collins, and then wonder, is Billy Collins still alive? Before you know it, it’s already 8:36 PM, and the sun is setting…

Unless you have pets, who remind you of your obligations to feed, love, and honor them, especially that feeding part, forcing you out of bed. My cats didn’t remind me of the day — who cares if it’s Monday, when you’re a cat doing the same thing every day? — and didn’t remind me of the date, May 24, 2021, because animals use a completely different calendar system. My cats assure me that their system is better. Every year is a floof year. They won’t explain what that means.

I was painting inside the house yesterday, attacking this year’s project, the great room. The great room is not great IMO. It’s just okay. It’s the living-dining-kitchen room, no walls between them, just one high ceiling. I painted the kitchen part last year after doing the foyer and front hall. I’d done the bathrooms and guest room the year before. You see the progression. I’d planned more painting last year, but then broke my arm after a poor dismount from the kitchen counter, which I was standing on to reinstall the kitchen blinds. The broken arm — two bones, at the wrist, and a buncha collateral damage — got me out of work, but I don’t recommend it. Just tell them that your cats stole the paint or something, if you don’t want to paint.

Anyway, while painting, I had Rihanna’s song, “Work”, going through my head for a while. You know, “work, work, work, work, work.” But Huey Lewis and the News took over the neurons with their 1982 song, “Workin’ for A Livin'”, and managed to stay there. Now I need to get rid of it, so I’m postin’ it here.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Just another fuzzy Friday. My I-don’t-have-to-work-day. My drink a cup-of-coffee day. Which makes it like every day, except the fuzzy part. It’s fuzzy with clouds and rain out there (yes — we like rain!) although a few degrees warmer (gonna be a struggle to reach sixty F today) would be appreciated.

This is May 21, 2021. May, and 2021, are storming past. The sun put some light in the sky at 5:45 AM and will take its gift of light and heat away at 8:31 PM here in the valley. The cats are quite ambivalent about it all, going out, coming in, searching for sunshine, hurrying from rain, sheltering from the winds that kick up, meowing at me to fix it before finding an inside place to retire for a few hours.

Thinking of what stage we’re at with the coronavirus, and what stage I’m at with different projects, dredged the ZZ Top song, “Stages”, up from 1986 memories into the active memory stream. “Stages keep on changing,” they sing, and they’re right. We’re at a stage with the COVID-19 crises where the mask guidance is changing, a stage where we’re waiting to see what’ll happen with variants and the vaccine, a stage where we wait to see if herd immunity can be achieved, a stage where we wait to see what the new normal will be.

Stay positive, test negative, listen to the music, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

If you heard a sharp screeching sound earlier this week, it may have come from our area. The seasons hit the brakes on the weather. We had been warmly progressing toward summer. Nice weather, if you can get it. But then, some power shouted, “Hit the brakes! Reverse.” Temperatures scaled down the thermometer overnight, taking us into the mid thirties. Rain stormed in. Clouds unfurled, mocking the sun’s 5:45 AM arrival. While the sun is expected to hang until 8:30 PM, the temperatures won’t go much over fifty, they say. Enjoying the rain, though, and the snow in the mountains. We haven’t had enough of either. Give us more, please.

This is Thursday, May 20, 2021, in the valley where Ashland is homed, where I am homed. Our vaccination rate keeps climbing (knock on wood). We’ve climbed over fifty percent of peeps with at least one shot. Our local Family Y has set up a J&J one shot clinic, no appointment needed, all day when they’re open. As with most of these things, it’s not advertised well. All of my local friends and acquaintances are fully vaxxed, but I tell them so they can tell others. Pitter-patter, let’s get ‘er at ‘er, and get this thing done.

Reading about why people aren’t getting vaccinated brought Tracy Chapman’s 1995 song, “Give Me One Reason”, to mind. Vax hesitancy usually falls in four groups. Dominating it are those individuals who don’t believe that COVID-19 exists or have convinced themselves that it’s not that bad. A lot of them defiantly demand, “Give me one reason.” But, what’s the use? You don’t believe the news stories about survivors and deaths. What one reason can I give that’ll change your mind? I fear that if you’re one of those people, your mind won’t be changed until you’ve personally experienced COVID-19 hell.

For the music, I’ve selected a collaboration between Chapman and Eric Clapton recorded in 1999. It’s a different take, a little fatter on Chapman’s gem of a song. Stay positive, test negative, mask as necessary, and get the vax. Please. Here’s the music.

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Monday’s Theme Music

Spring sunshine again bathes the valley this AM, with the sun beaming in at 5:48 AM and expecting to hang around until 8:27 PM. Today is Monday, May 17, 2021. Happy Syttende Mai! We’re helping Norwegians celebrate the 1814 day when Norway’s constitution was signed. Weather for Syttende Mai in Ashland expects to peak at 85 degrees F again today. It cools at night but rain would be nice, you know?

Today’s music is inspired by food. I know it’s not fashionable to complain about having food to eat, but I’m weary of our recurring menu. Yeah, I know it’s first world blues. Though nutritious and I’m grateful to have food, it’s gotten stale. This is amplified by the tedium of routines. I want other food in other places, feel me? Sure, you do. Thinking about this conundrum — I have food but I’m weary of the entrees — I began singing, “Day after day.” That triggered Bad Finger to rise from my mental recesses to sing along to their 1971 hit, “Day After Day”.

Maskwise, I’ve chosen to continue wearing the mask as I’ve been doing. Frankly, there’s a percentage of population who didn’t want to wear a mask, don’t want to be vaccinated, don’t believe that COVID-19 is an issue, and don’t care if others get it or die from it. That’s what I take from their actions and behavior, at least. I have no doubt that these people will lie and say they’ve been vaccinated and not wear a mask, and give more life to the virus. As I’m vaccinated, my primary concerns arise around breakthrough cases or being an unwitting carrier spreading it to others. I’ll give it ten days to see if we have a new spike, and if vaccinations continue at the same pace in the meanwhile.

My resolution about masking for now firmed this morning. The spouse was on her Zoom exercise class. This was prior to the actual class, when people were joining and chatting. One woman admitted to being embarrassed. Her adult son said he’s not getting vaccinated. His reason: he doesn’t like people telling him what to do.

So, stay positive, test negative, figure out what to do about a mask, and get vaccinated, for crying out loud. What an interesting expression that last is, you know?

Here’s the music. Ciao.

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