He read the headline and then the story.
Yes, because things were going so well for the planet’s humanity. A zombie virus is the perfect addition.
Friday’s Theme Music
White billows of clouds push and pull across the blue sky. Sunshine bullies the southern and eastern views. “Gorgeous,” the cats say.
I agree with them. This Friday, March 10, 2023, it’s 39 F outside but sunny, with a high of 50 expected. Showers for the next five days, the weather minions tell me with a wink. Highs about 50 F, low of 36. Ashlandia’s weather is sliding closer to its norm. The winds have settled into an infrequent light breeze, but they gave us a rainy tussle yesterday, shoving people around, fighting against car doors being shut, trying to rip hats and clothes off, and mangling umbrellas.
Today’s sun presence began at dawn, a little before 6:32 AM, and will continue for almost twelve hours. All that changes on Sunday. We’re springing ahead. Sunrise won’t be until 7:30 then, but we’ll have more shine on the day’s tail end. Of course, it means less sleep because if I get up at my usual time, it’ll be an hour later.
I have the song, “Magic”, by Pilot (1973) in my head. Dream stuff. In the dream, I was going through an almost empty city looking for magic. While it was a modern city, I wore dusty old white robes, bit torn, with sandals, and had been walking for a long time. At first, I didn’t know what I was looking for but then, in the dream, it came to me, I’m looking for magic. With that, I started the air for magic, following my nose, letting it lead me, and then looking. I came across others and spoke to them about it, and sometimes cars would drive by, but no one was helping me. I stayed on my own. Then, voila, walked around a corner. There was a aluminum briefcase against the wall. With some surprise, I knew it was mine. I thought I’d lost it years before. Opening it, I found magic.
Thinking about the dream later, I kept wondering what did I see in the briefcase that I knew it was magic? But, like the movie Pulp Fiction, I never saw the briefcase’s contents. Gold didn’t come out of my briefcase, though, and I never thought or said it was beautiful. Then, though, The Neurons came through with Pilo out of my childhood.
Stay pos. This is Friday. Pretty exciting, huh? Well, all kinds of approaches can be employed for Friday. Me, it’s Friday, time to write again, woo-hoo. That just might be my coffee shouting. I’ve had a cup already.
Here’s the song. Cheers
Legerdefloof
Legerdefloof (floofinition) – An adroit display of skill or cleverness by an animal.
In use: “Employing legerdefloof with teeth and paws, the golden retriever unwrapped his leash from where it was tied to keep him wandering, and then went over, did the same with his companion’s leash, freeing the two to take off and explore the park.”
Thursday’s Theme Music
Windy is the weather word for today. Windy, as in lots of wind, and it’s gonna get intense. Not hurricane, cyclone, tornado, or typhoon level, no. But hold onto your hats. Or tie them on tight.
Today is Thursday, 3/9/2023. Temperature is 42. We lack snow, fog, and rain at the moment. We offer blue sky, white clouds, and sunshine on this Ashlandia morning. The sun was coming up at 6:33 AM, when Papi did his seal bark to demand exit number three. The window beating to come back in was at 7:05. Ashlandia’s sunset comes at 6:10. We’ll be up to 42 F by then.
Papi is back out now, sitting on the porch, glaring at the wind, very dismayed with the weather. He’ll be wanting back in soon, and then will rest so that he’s fresh for his nightly needs. He is off, victimized by the book club visitors last night. Papi is not one to socialize with people or animals. He’s a loner. When they arrived, he retreated to the master BR and sulked on the bed, listening for one of them attempting to sneak up on him. He’s knockin’ to get back in now. Excuse me.
Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to be gone so long. Had to pay the floof tax and tell him how smart and handsome he is until he said, “Enough,” and dashed off. Those of you with floofs will understand.
Papi is a neat and clean cat, though. Not a fur out of place. Any out of place furs are immediately shed. It’s quite a system.
I dreamed I was trying to remember who sang “Baby Blue”, a song which came out in 1971. As part of my dream effort, I kept watching a black and white static-filled TV screen while older me shouted at younger me, “Bad Finger. It’s Bad Finger.” Younger me would not listen, but kept muttering, “Bad Company?” Arrgh.
It’s a walking song in the morning mental music stream today. Out yesterday, walking today. Winting is back and the sun and cold wind medley was enhanced by things trying to figure out if they should bloom now. All very pleasant, however. Reminded me of youthful moments. The Neurons tossed a Grand Funk song, “I’m Your Captain (Closer to Home)” from 1970 into the mix. It’s a song I often recalled when walking or driving and getting close to home. I often traveled in my youth, and then again in the military, and then again in marketing.
That’s enough of that, I’m sure. Stay pos. Treat Thursday like a golden opportunity and do your thang. Peace out.
A Pair of Dreams
I begin in off-white thermal underwear. I dance through town, this place in which I RL live. Early spring is in effect. I leap and pirouette, twirl and bow.
An artist brush is in my hand. I flicked colors at things, dipping my brush in the colors already available, making everything bolder, brighter, sharper. Although it goes on for a while, that’s all to the dream.
It’s a younger version of me, a hybrid between my teenage self and my middle-aged individual. I smile thoughout the dream.
I land in another dream. I’m with another man. We’re in blue hospital scrubs. I know, I’m a med tech. We’re in a small city. Situated on several hills, a bay embraces the land. It’s a busy place, full of hurrying traffic, vehicular and on-foot.
A hue rises from a hospital on the hill. One of my peers shouts, “It’s a success.”
I am jealous. I wanted to be part of that. I feel cheated.
But I congratulate him and the rest and spread the news of the success. It was an arduous and dangerous operation but the patient was doing well. We were pleased. We’d helped develop catheters which saved the patient. This was their first use.
A surgeon came, gloved and masked. “They worked well,” he said. “They want some at the other facility.”
“I’ll take them,” I declare, picking up a brown box of them.
The surgeon says, “They need to be cut, shorter, and narrower.”
“I’ll do that,” I reply.
I begin walking. Balancing the box, I employ a scalpel and start precisely cutting the pale white catheters. My peer follows, saying, “Let me do something. You can’t carry the box and cut the catheters.”
But I am, continuing as we weave our way through crowds.
“The catheters are bleeding,” the other tech says.
I nod. “That’s normal. These are partly organic. That’s why they work.”
End dreams.
I Don’t Know
The cat is stalking me through the house
Staring at me and asking for something which
Might be a mouse but
I don’t know
And the wife is yelling loudly at me
For something that I was supposed to do yesterday
And all I reply back to her can be
I don’t know
And they’re showing me on the TV screen
Telling a story, the gist is me, and what it’s about
I’m waiting to see ‘cause
I don’t know
The fish in the aquarium was taken to the sea
And if you ask, I’ll tell you it was me
But if you ask why I did it, you probably know
I don’t know
I write this because it had to be
Muses arose and bushwhacked me
I asked them for explanations, see
and they replied,
I don’t know.
Wednesday’s Theme Music
Overture, hit the lights, this is, the night of nights.
Yes, it’s book club Wednesday. K is hosting. The house is clean as a whistle. I don’t understand that expression but know it from older people using it in my youth. As a developing elder, I feel it incumbent to carry the tradition forward so that future generations can ask, what does that mean? I understand it from context and use, sure, the eighteenth-century expression doesn’t seem straightforward to my mind.
The vegan brownies are done and turned out great. She used the same recipe and materials used for the disastrous test brownies. Shrug. The other little vegan cream cheese with cranberry sauce and orange zest with puff pastry will be baked later today.
We picked up four bottles of wine for the book club but this isn’t a wine drinking book club. One or two will have a glass of wine. This just gives them options. Our wine stand’s stock declined in the last two years. We usually had twenty to thirty bottles on hand. We were down to twelve. The beverage predictions are that one bc member will drink decaf, three will drink water, and the rest will drink hot tea.
White fog envelopes the sky out of the house’s west side today. New snow fell. Just two inches but enough to cocoon our land in white. White pine branches protect scattered patches of green grass. Black asphalt and dark wet cement rivers through. But bold sunshine is skating in from the east from its rising time of 6:35, blasting our eyes off the snow when we look out the windows on the other side. It’s 35 F now but we expect 41 F before the sun puts us in its rearview at 6:09 this evening.
This is Tuesday, March 8, 2023.
The last original member of Lynyrd Skynyrd, Gary Rossington, died a few days ago. Skynyrd was part of my youth’s broad musical tapestry and his passing brings that period and their songs to mind. The Neurons selected a humorous song from 1973 for the morning mental music stream, “Gimme Three Steps”. Song is derived from a true story which happened to a band member.
Okay, coffee is at hand. Stay pos. This is Wednesday. Act like you own it. Like you got dreams and you’re gettin’ after ’em. Time to do it. (A phrase which encouraged The Neurons to kick in a song by the Black Eye Peas, “I Got A Feelin'”.)
Here’s a terrific live version of “Gimme Three Steps” from ’76. Cheers
Tuesday’s Wandering Thought
Search engines had become very annoying. For example, whenever he put in a query like, “new novels 2023”, they returned lists of books.
Books and novels: not the same thing. All books are not fiction. Novels are.
Tuesday’s Theme Music
We’re into the week’s repeat cycle. Sunny. Blue and white sky. 35 F. High, 41. Winter warning out for later today. Snow down to 1500 feet. 1-3 inches. Sunrise a minute earlier than yesterday. Sunset a minute later today.
That’s the summary for March 7, 2023. Tuesday.
Got Foreigner’s “Double Vision” from 1978 in the morning mental music stream. Dream brought it on. Won’t encumber you with details. Actually, still sorting it. I will say that I don’t know how “Double Vision” is related.
1978 found me going from Texas to WV, from the military to a restaurant owner and a college student. Hectic period of searching for myself.
It’s a brief ‘un today. My annoyance meter is rising. Just one of those things. Happens once a month. Usually one to two days. Gets really dark sometimes. Don’t know in advance where it’ll fall.
Stay pos if you can. A sip of coffee awaits my lips. Have a better one. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 