Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I’m thinking about becoming a person who goes by one name. Join Madonna, Cher, Sting, Beyonce, Pink. Kick off 2025 in a different way. The Neurons came up with Midel as the name. This is the first two letters of my first name and the last three letters of my last name.
I ran it by my wife. She wasn’t impressed. So I ran it by my sister. She laughed and laughed…
Mood: Coffeemollified
This is it, 2024’s final day. Twosday, December 31. Seems ordinary in every way when I just look out the window.
Winter has descended. Our temperature is muscling to 30 F. The high will be 42 F. Sun shimmers through fog’s pearly teeth. Frost crisps grass blades into white shoestrings. No snow or rain falling. While walking in late afternoon yesterday, though, I looked across the valley. A fog line huddled against the mountains at about three thousand feet. Above the fog, a snowy mountain ridge turned apricot by the setting sun stood sentry. Now that, I thought, looks cold.
My Neurons took to quizzing me as I took care of brekkie duties, asking me who starred in different televsion shows and movies. Yes, I agree, it’s an odd thing to be doing. Then they pivoted, “Okay, who sang the ‘Friends’ theme music?” Easy peasy, the Rembrandts, right? “Now name the Supreme Court Justices, smart guy,” The Neurons returned. Before coffee? I protested. That’s hardly fair.
Today’s music was brought in by The Neurons when my wife and I were driving home from a shopping expedition yesterday. The radio played Luke Combs’s version of Tracy Chapman’s song, “Fast Car”. My wife commented that it revitalized her sales, especially after the Grammies, when Combs and Chapman performed the song together. We then talked about how good her first album was. That resulted in The Neurons installing another song from the album, “For My Lover”, in the morning mental music stream (Trademark tariff protected).
Coffee is now approaching The Neurons with a peace offering. Yes, it’s caffeine. Usually sufficiently mollifies The Neurons into being more companionable. Hope your final day of 2024 is memorable for you in good ways. Here’s the music. Cheers
After knowing one another for 53 years and being married almost 50, my wife still surprises and confuses me with some of her decisions.
I have no doubt that she’d say the same thing about me.
Floofstruse (floofinition) – An animal who is difficult to comprehend, predict, or understand. Origins: December 1, 2024, Ashlandia, Oregon, USA.
In Use: “Even after ten years of living with Corky, he was a floofstruse enigma, alternatively loving, sweet, and friendly, and then sullen, remote, and sad.”
In Use: “Bob always told others that Lucy was floofstruse, usually happy, sweet, and playful, but then another side emerged, and she became Lucifer.”
A common casual question being posed as people meet is, “Are you ready for the new year?”
I watched and listened to folks in the coffee shop. Yes, spying on them, listening to them. Most commonly when they’re asked this question, shrugs are given. Sometimes someone will say, “Not really.” I’ve not any any who say, “Yes.” I don’t answer yes, myself. I’m part of that not really congingent.
We all agree, ready or not, here it comes.
Mood: Grrrrumpy
It’s raining again. Alexa notified me at 8 PM (or 2000 hours if you prefer) that it was going to start raining near me, starting around 12 AM and going intermittently until 8 PM. About 1.3 inches of rain was expected.
I was listening to the rain hitting the roof, pinging off the vents, splattering the windows, and asked, “Is it raining now?”
“Rain is expected to start at 9:30 PM.”
“Alexa, feedback. It’s 8 PM and it’s raining now.”
Rainy, gray, it’s warmish again, 50 F with a high of 52 F suggested and a low of 46 F. The gray light slanting in through the windows does nada to brighten my mood. Fog swirls around mountain pines and peaks. Dark and pretty in a tragic “Wuthering Heights” sort of fashion.
A perusal of news headlines has me opimistic for 2025. (Yes, that was snark.) Things like the costs of owning and driving a car are jumping. This was a California story. The average price paid for a new car was over $47K. Now it’s jumped to over $52K. And insurance is climbing as well. Again, it’s California, but what happens in California usually ripples out. And, this is before any PINO Trump tariffs are issued.
Then a jolly story covered how the Alum Rock school district is closing or consolidating schools. Oh, boy, let me quit reading that.
Another story told me eggs, already pricy, are going up because of the bird flu. And a related news article informed me that animals were dying from being infected with the bird flu from eating tainted meat.
Next came a recounting that those anti-vaxxing efforts in Louisana are having an effect. Louisana is seeing cases of the flu climb. Surprised? No. They’re one of two states in a ‘Very High ILI’ category. The other state is…Oregon.
What? My state. WTF? Chasing that down, I learn, gosh, vaccinations for COVID-19, RSV, and the flu are trailing data from last year, which was already trailing data from the year before. So the flu, etc., are up.
Grrrrrreat. Yes, that is sarcasm.
I got out of the news before I turned to the national and international scenes. Mood was cratered enough, thanks.
The Neurons already had music picked out and going in the morning mental music stream (Trademark sagging). “Forty Days and Forty Nights” is a 1956 blues number by Muddy Waters. The Neurons had it in my head solely on the line, “Sun shinin’ all day long, but the rain keep falling down.” Yes, it hasn’t been forty solid days if I judge on empirical evidence; it just feels like it to the wife, me, and others who engage in conversations about the weather. The ground is saturated. Rivers and creeks are up. Flooding is possible. On the possy side, our drought seems over for our part of Oregon. Other parts of the state remain abnormally dry.
Could be worse, I remind myself. We are not snowbound, etc.
The Forty Days version I selected was a Steppenwolf cover. Mom bought me the album, Steppnwolf 7, for Christmas in 1970, when the song and I were both fourteen. It has sentimenal attachments to me, see.
Okay, coffee and I have worked out an arrangement for this morning whereby I’ll brew it and pour it into my mouth and swallow. Seems like I’m doing all the work here, but I benefit from it. I don’t think coffee gets anything except perhaps some emotional satisfaction from helping me through the day. Here’s the music. Cheers
Vagafloof (floofinition) – An animal who enjoys wandering. Origins: 15th century Middle Floofish.
In Use: “As much as he cringed from what could happen to Turbo, Patrick accepted that his pet was a vagfloof, familiar to all of the neighbors in a radius of several blocks.”
In Use: “Although now a fair-weather floof, Mouse (a misnomer if ever there was one) was a vagafloof in the house, visiting Carol while she worked in the office, and periodically checking on all rooms and activities thoughout the day.”
Strangest thing happened today. My big ol’ black and white cat, Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah), came up to me and said, “Me-ow.”
He surprised me. Tucker normally says, “Mrrew.” Or, “Rrow.” “Mrph.” “Mruph.” Things like that. Meow? Never. It was like hearing a dog say, “Hello.” Or a deer offering, “Good afternoon.”
Me-ow. It was so clear. So distinct. You could have knocked me over with a paw.
Floofdulum (floofinition) – An animal which swings back and forth between two or more activities, locations, or activities. Origins: From Flooftin, circa 1659.
In Use: “Many pet floofs become floofdulums as they age, rotating between eating and sleeping, eating and sleeping.”
In Use: “Crystal was a staunch floofdulum, sleeping in bed with her people at night, moving to the sunny living room in the morning, and then joining her people on the sofa in the evening.”
In Use: “Wanting to eat everything available, Sir Bear became a floofdulum, dashing between food bowls in search of every last bite.”
PINO*-elect Trump is calling for buying Greenland. What a goofball. Certainly fun to read about him for the crazy factor. It’s like, what will that crazy monkey say next?
“For purposes of National Security and Freedom throughout the World, the United States of America feels that the ownership and control of Greenland is an absolute necessity,” Trump wrote in a statement announcing that he chose Ken Howery to serve as ambassador to Denmark.
Sidebar: I think that Buying Greenland and Other Insanity would be an excellent title for Trump’s biography. Feel free to use it.
Back to PINO-elect Trump’s idea. My first question is, has Denmark said that Greenland is for sale? Sure that’s not important to Trump. He likes taking things. Remember, he’s the one who suggest that all he has to do to get a woman is “grab her by the pussy.”
Trump: “Yeah, that’s her, with the gold. I’ve got to use some Tic Tacs, just in case I start kissing her. You know I’m automatically attracted to beautiful — I just start kissing them. It’s like a magnet. I just kiss. I don’t even wait. And when you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything.”
Unidentified man: “Whatever you want.”
Trump: “Grab them by the pussy. You can do anything.”
Next question, of course, if he is going to instead pay for it, what is the price? Third in line to ponder is what is PINO-elect Trump’s plan to pay for it? He’s planning to cut taxes and raise tariffs on imported goods, which are both projected to cut revenue. While he’s doing that, he’s going to reduce the deficit, and mass deport millions of people.
I’m guessing that Trump will have to raise the money for buying Greenland in some extraneous ways. Maybe sell some of his bought billionaires on eBay. Putin would probably buy them. Or Trump will do a car wash or bake sale. Can you see a WH car wash? Ten thousand dollars a car. He’ll have the Secret Service do the washing. A bake sale spun right could bring in some cash. First, Trump buys or steals (or calls for them to be donated!) a bunch of baked goods. Then Trump can take a bite of each baked good and sell it for a grand per. “Real Food Certified to have been bitten by PINO Donald J. Trump.” Film him biting each cookie and signing a certificate of biting it. Post it to X. He could sell them for $299 a bite.
I’m sure that whatever he does to raise money to buy Greenland, it’ll be the “greatest and most beautiful thing ever”. Right?
Oh, wait, I know. He can collect and bottle his piss and sell it to raise the money. That’d probably bring in a lot of money. Supporters are sure to buy his bottled piss. I mean, look at how many keep buying his shit.
*PINO: President in name only.
Michael Seidel, writer 