Category: Information

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: sunny, with a chance of irritation

Hello, Friday, my old friend. We’ve come to visit you again.

Friday. August 11, 2023. Ashlandia, where the airport is small and the bus costs a dollar.

68 F out now but they are warning us of a triple digit weekend. Actually, triple digits might not hit until Sunday. I’m hoping we’ll avoid them completed. Today, we’ll be visited by low nineties.

Had a smoke scare last night. We’d gone done to the music in the park. City band’s last performance in the park for the year. It was parked. We enjoyed the music and a longish walk in the cooling evening air through the park by the creek and then headed home. Windows and doors were opened. The evening cooling process commenced.

Then, tennish, the smell of wood smoke snuck in through the windows. Strong smell in less than a minute, coming from all directions. This is unusual; usually the smell strikes from one to two directions, letting us close those windows will leaving a few others in the opposite direction open. And the smoke’s smell was very fresh. Yeah, you get to know these things when you worry about wildfires.

After closing the windows, I went out to test how strong the smell was, get the cats in, and see if I saw any threats or heard any sirens. Nope. Back inside I headed to neighborhood, city, and fire websites for warnings of a fire and checked the police and fire department communications. Nope.

Hour later, I checked, and the smokiness was faded. Two windows were cautiously opened and I answered sleep’s summons. Sky today is clear and blue. Fingers crossed, it’ll stay like this. Sinuses and throat disliked that smoke dose, so there was some saline clearing, coughing, and blowing done today.

The Neurons have drawn up Paul Simon’s song, “One Trick Pony”, from over fifty years ago, for the morning mental music stream (Trademark fragmented). Frankly, this isn’t a stretch and is strictly politically driven. Reading about the latest GOP efforts to undermine democracy in Florida (notes from parents needed for nicknames to be used at school — but tell me again how they’re all about freedom and small government, please) and Texas (where a Trump-appointed judge directed lawyers to attend eight hours of training by a right-wing group, the Alliance Defending Liberty) led to a rant with my wife. We were both ranting. Missouri got thrown into the rant after we discussed Ohio and the voters decisive returns on the GOP’s efforts to criminalize and block abortion. There was a humorous moment to it when a right wing radio host complained about Joe Biden’s father’s behavior in WW II. Remember WW II? Prominently features NAZIs and White Supremacy, you know, the sort of people we see now at GOP rallies. They have chutzpah, if nothing else, but then again, they’re singing to a cult. Anyway, “One Trick Pony” is today’s theme music.

Coffee is available in the break room. Be strong, and stay pos. If that doesn’t work, try the coffee. It’s pretty good. Here’s the music, and away we go.

Cheers

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The Writing Moment

I feel liberated. Released. Like I’ve been locked up in a building and now the doors have been opened and I can go anywhere.

Yeah. Finished the first draft of another novel.

I also feel humbled and happy. Satisfied.

I struggled with finishing. Kept running into a wall with where those final chapters would go. I had to reach the odd realization and understanding that the character is not me. The character had much more to give, more to use. They understood things that I did not. I just had to let go and accept that. Once that finally took place, the ending fell into place, and here we are.

Now it must be edited, revised, etc. But the storyteller is free to start another tale. Almost as if signaled, I saw something and a new adventure began taking shape.

As it’s always been.

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Alternate Realities

This is not a review but a brief commentary about Barbie.

I did an informal poll last night when sitting with my beer gang. These are generally enlightened and educated, elderly men and women — our youngest is 61, and I’m in the middle at 67 — who retired from professions as university professors, botanists, biologists, medical doctors, NASA scientists, aerospace engineers, high school teachers, database administrators, software engineers, and forensics scientists. Yes, we have at least two of each in our group. They’re all ‘woke’ to various degrees. None of the women were there last night, just the men.

So I did a survey. I was surprised that none had seen the Barbie movie, and only one wanted to see it. All of them enthused about Oppenheimer, though.

I’d seen Barbie and enjoyed it. I had moderate interest in the doll’s story and the battles against the patriarchy — though very real — and matriarchy, toxic masculinity, and false choices dumped on people because of gender. No, my thing was the alternate realities aspects, the other existence where Barbie and Ken and their brethren resided, versus our reality.

I’ve always been a sucker for these. Loved Pleasantville for that reason, along with Men In Black, the original Matrix, Flash Gordon, 12 Monkeys, Ground Hog Day, Inception, and the whole Doctor Who series. Add Stranger Things, The Umbrella Academy, Good Omens, and Papergirls to the list of worthy TV series about other dimensions. I’ve probably forgotten same, but want to stress, these are not about alternate history or future science fiction. The core of these offerings to me must be that these movies and television shows actively involve other dimensions. Things are happening there. Those involved in our reality don’t know it, but are solidly face-planted into the other reality and must cope with the new reality that there are other realities. I love the genre because it challenges our certitude about reality, which I find rude, arrogant, and short-sighted. Of course, that approach works for most, so, shrug.

Barbie worked for me for that reason. Besides solid acting and production values, the expected jokes and observations about genitals and identity, the paradigm shifts faced were clearly exposed. There was a too neat, too clean resolution to that — but, hey, it’s a comedy — and a I-can-skip-the-lecture at the end delivered by Rhea Perlman as Barbie’s inventor, but it was solid fun about realities colliding.

I recommend the movie and pity those who won’t see it for whatever premature reason they’ve devised. Cheers

2

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: reflective

We’re about to rock Thursday, August 10, 2023 — or is it about to rock us?

It’s a comfortable morning in Ashlandia, where the children are young and the parents are hopeful. 70 F and sunny now, 91 is on the books as the expected high. Relative humidity is hovering around 41%. Mild breezes carry mountain chills into the valley as the sun’s heat starts taking over.

My thoughts are with Hawaii today. The photos, videos, and tales emerging from the islands are saddening, soul-killing. Hawaii for me was a beautiful exotic place to visit, almost like paradise. It’s painful to think of those wonderful people and lands burning. Not too much different from what it was like to see Italy burning, Spain, California, Australia, and other places around the world in the last few years. Whether Hawaii’s disaster is linked to climate change, I don’t know. Fires do happen but so many devastating fires and disasters have been witnessed in the last ten years, the tension of impending collapse feels like it’s increasing. There is evidence that climate change is happening, and accelerating. For us not to try to mitigate what we can is such a depressing, defeatist, and selfish attitude that my dismay rises to disbelief. That so often the excuse for not doing something is that it will be bad for business is appalling.

I paused for a bit to remember the many places I visited and how fortunate I was to have visited them. Too often I forget how privileged I’ve been and am. It’s a side effect of privilege, one of several, that you ended up taking these things for granted.

The Neurons plucked “The Best of Times” by Styx out of the mental repository. It’s playing full tilt in the morning mental music stream (Trademark uncertain), brought on by the lyrics, “Rumor has it, it’s the end of paradise.” So often when we look back, we have a moment that we think of as the best of times. Those are generated by relativities of who you are, where you were, your expectations and disappointments, really, your reality. I think about future generations and what they’ll look back upon, and wonder. Fortunately, beyond the broader landscape of existence, people have their own bubbles of being. It’s in there where we take comfort as we can, and stock hope for something better.

Time for coffee, or as I dub it, ‘coffee time’ (trademark rejected). Say positive and hopeful, even optimistic, and let’s keep moving forward. Peace out, as they used to say.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

Monday found me helping my wife deliver food to elderly, incapacitated, and disabled people, part of a community effort. Someone does it everyday Monday through Friday. Meals are provided for weekends and holidays on request as part of the system.

We were delivering six frozen meals to a new person on the route. We were instructed to call him first, to let him know we were on the way. He came out of his house as we pulled into his driveway. Obese, on oxygen, in a wheelchair, he looked about fifty years old, at least ten years younger than me.

Sad and shocked, I wondered about the circumstances of luck, genetics, work, and habits that brought the guy to that point. Most of life seems like a lottery, and the health lottery seems like the cruelest and most random of all.

8

Panfloofual

Panfloofual (floofinition) – Not limited in choice or preference to one species or breed of animal.

In use: “Although people are professed cat or dog lovers, abundant households have people, especially children, who are panfloofual, playing with and loving birds, fish, lizards and reptiles, and guinea pigs and hamsters, among many, many other species.”

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

Sometimes, there’s just a vibe.

A woman walked toward him. Something about her brought up a smile. “Good afternoon,” he said. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing great. How are you?”

“I’m also doing great, thank you.”

“Good,” she answered.

They passed, going in opposite directions. Both looked back over their shoulder at the other, and smiled.

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Floof Appeal

Floof Appeal (floofinition) 1. A indefinable essence emitted by some individuals which draws animals to them.

In use: “With Debra’s floof appeal, whenever she visited someone with pets, they inevitably gravitated to her, prompting jealousy in some because cats would stay in her lap and dogs would lick her hands and sit beside her, tail wagging like they were getting ready to fly away.”

2. Personality or looks which animals emanate or display which attracts humans or other animals.

In use: “Though glowing with floof appeal, Corky was a little standoffish and shy, but her looks made everyone want to befriend her.”

3. Urgent communication regarding the state or condition of an animal, or an appeal for help with an animal.

In use: “When Dot’s young rescue Huskies escaped her yard, she put out a floof appeal with photos and descriptions to multiple social media sites, and was soon rewarded with the dogs’ return.”

2

Tiw’s Day’s Theme Music

Tiw’s Day is here at last, and the God couldn’t be happier about it. Breaking out in tears, the one-handed God thanked everyone with deep sincerity, not leaving anyone unmentioned, and then resumed his duties.

For those keeping score at home, this is August 8, 2023 in Ashlandia, where the train’s horn is loud and persistent against the quiet day. The sun’s influence and fronts have combined to breach 73 F right now, and they vow to keep going into the low nineties. Good to have goals, even for the sun and weather system.

(Meanwhile, the sun, upon reading this, asked himself in a bewildered murmur, “What’s he talking about? I don’t have goals. Do I have goals?” It gave him something to ponder while sipping his coffee.)

I have Van Halen performing “Best of Both Worlds” in the morning mental music stream (trademark TBD). Came upon that song as I noodled through my clothing needs for the day. Be walking in the morning, when it’s cooler. Than I’ll be in the coffee shop, where they like to pump up the A/C because it’s hot behind the counter, then walking again, and it’ll be in the eighties by then, before going to the movie theater, where it’s icy cold as deep space. We’re seeing Barbie today. I’m looking forward to watching Kate McKinnon as Weird Barbie. Always enjoyed her on “SNL”, especially when she was talking about her alien abduction experiences.

Anyway, I was thinking that I’d be wearing shorts, of course. It’s summer in Ashlandia. I wear shorts everywhere, unless it’s declared to be something semi-formal or above or the wife says something like, “You’re not wearing shorts.” “Of course I am,” I always reply before getting up to change. The shirt was the issue here. How heavy should the shirt be to meet my various needs? I’d be inside and out, and would thus need something to — ready? — cope with the best of both worlds. Yeah. That’s how The Neurons do it.

Be calm, stay positive, keep that strength up, and keep moving forward. It’s getting to be a long list, yeah, the things you must do to remain sane and healthy, hopeful, and optimistic, the things you must do to put in the work. I’ve have coffee but I’m having more, okay? Here’s the tune. Let’s go with it. Cheers

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