Category: Information

A Rainy Dream

I was with some others. They remained misty and uncertain, voices on the periphery of my awareness.

We were to drive three identical Cadillac automobiles. Cream and brown two-toned sedans, I knew them as late 1940s cars, a model called ‘Sedan de Ville’. I was to be the driver of one of these three large cars.

Sheets of silvery rain were soaking the world outside the building where we talked, striking down visibility whenever I looked out a window. I knew we were in a city. We were addressing a large, electronic map. It showed the route to follow in thick dark green on a yellow background. Part of the discussion was about what to call our exits. Studying the map, I somehow came up with Jo Three, which struck me as funny. I explained why it should be called that and why it was funny but those details are lost to waking me.

Before leaving, white brunette women dressed in 1950s fashion presented each driver with two loaves of freshly baked warm bread. These loaves were set on the back shelf behind the rear seat, on on each side, in all three cars. I happily went about, checking the loaves, verifying what they were (rye, marble rye, whole wheat, etc.), and that each loaf was unique. Satisfied, I confirmed my loaves were where they should be, climbed behind the car’s massive steering wheel, and set off.

Rain still hammered the streets and sidewalks, denuding color so that everything resembled sepia photographs. With no wind, the rain fell straight down. Although it was day, street lights were on. The straight multi-lane roads were in good condition. Traffic was sparse. The place seemed familiar.

I saw a woman walking along a sidewalk under an umbrella. I knew her. I thought she was upset and decided that I needed to speak with her, and that I would offer her a ride. As I caught up with her, she was under an underpass at an intersection, waiting to cross the street. She crossed; I turned left, pulled alongside her, and wound the passenger window down. As she didn’t stop, the car continued parallel to her, propelled by the idling motor.

Leaning across the street, cold as mist came in the open window, I called, asking her if she wanted a ride, speaking loudly over the rain and the car’s engine. She declined, telling me that she enjoyed walking in the rain. I then apologized to her and told her that I understood why she was upset. She replied that she wasn’t upset, and that’s not why she wasn’t accepting a ride. She had been upset but now she just appreciated being alone, walking in the rain.

I accepted her answer and drove off. As I did, I looked back in the rearview mirror and watched her walking on the sidewalk in the pouring rain, getting smaller as the distance increased.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Greetings from Ashland, ladies and gentlemen, floofs, and the rest. The day is Thursday and the date is April 8, 2021. Our sun broke sky at 6:42 AM. The sun will exit sky west at 7:44 PM. That’ll give us a pretty solid thirteen hours of sunshine, brothers and sisters! Current temp has us at 42. A high in the upper sixties to low seventies is looked for but not counted upon.

I awoke with “I Can Dream, Can’t I?” by the Andrews Sisters (1949) roaming the streets of my mind. Yes, dream magic invoked that song, for sure. Thinking of it (1949, when I was born in 1956?), I wondered how I’d come to know it. I suspect Mom’s influence with her stereo. That’s the easy response but I recall seeing them sing it in black and white, so I pivot to seeing them on a television show or a movie.

Can’t I adore you?
Although we are oceans apart
I can’t make you open your heart
But I can dream, can’t I?

h/t to Metrolyrics.com

It was later covered by others, like The Carpenters, and Annie Lennox, but I enjoy the sisters’ powerful vocals and harmonizing.

Another song, “Hanky Panky” by Tommy James and the Shondells (1966) quickly overtook the Andrew Sisters offering. I can’t trace its lineage in my mind today. As far as learning the song, that would probably be my older sister’s influence. She was one of those forty-fivers, spinning little vinyl discs on her portable record player. Or I learned it via AM radio in the car, or on television from shows like “American Bandstand”. Do not know.

Anyway, that’s today’s music choice. Here’s an interesting video of it. Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get the vax. Time for coffee. Cheers

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Lunafloof

Lunafloof (floofinition) – 1. Animal who acts silly.

In use: “Many puppies and kittens act like lunafloofs when they’re young, but Blur never matured, remaining an entertaining lunafloof racing about the house even at sixteen.”

2. A person who is overly enamored with animals.

In use: “Entering her home, you knew immediately from artwork, statues, photoraphs, you were in a lunafloof’s dwelling.”

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Floofetry

Floofetry (floofinition) – Sonnets, odes, rhymes, and verses about animals.

In use: “One of the more famous examples of floofetry begins, ‘Oh, I wish that I will someday see, a poem as lovely as a floof, although we know most floofs are goofs, and those who live with them have the proof.'”

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A Sharply Focused Dream

Only recall one dream from last night, but it was bold, sharp, and clear. Back in the military (again), I was trying to help a younger person, who was also in the military. This involved helping three young kittens while the airman was simultaneously trying to organize assistance and travel for a group of her peers. Located outside the U.S., she’d come to me for help contacting the powers-that-be back in the U.S. for some authorizations. I was generally/usually the correct contact for these matters in a unit, but this time, I’d not been given that authorization for some reason. I explained that to the airman. She kept pressing. We took it up the chain as I explained to the wing commander and unit commanders that I couldn’t help her because I’d not been given the authority in this instance.

(Meanwhile, the kittens kept disappearing (often in bed clothes and blankets), but I always recovered them, keeping them protected, and feeding them until I handed them off to someone who could foster them full time.)

The commanders all agreed, that was a temporary oversight and didn’t matter, dismissing it, certain that it was going to be rectified right away. While I couldn’t believe that they were so dismissive, the airman exuded a ‘told you’ air.

The dream ended.

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Welcome back to another edition of Tuesday. Today is April 6, 2021. It’s coolish today, 42 degrees F, with mild threats of rain showers. Spring is enveloping our valley with blossoms, buds, and blooms. Tulips, daffodils, and star asters are abundant, setting senses aflame with their sweet fragrance and bold beauty. Ms Sun appeared at 6:45 AM in Ashland. She expects to spend the day with us before jetting out of sight at 7:42 PM. During that period, it’s anticipated that we’ll get warmer.

We’re scheduled for the J&J one-dose COVID-19 vaccination this weekend. Oregon had shifted eligibility. The lowered bar now includes us, folks in our lower sixties without children and minor health issues. Other states are including everyone over eighteen, so PROGRESS!

Dad remains in the hospital, experiencing edema. He and his wife were vaccinated against COVID-19 months ago. They’re not certain what’s causing the edema. He’s now been in there two weeks as they address built up fluid in his legs. Eighty-nine this year, he’s been medicating for COPD for years (after being a Lucky Strikes smoker (LSMFT), pipe smoker, and cigar smoker), along with minor kidney matters. He’s usually a good hospital patient, he tells me (and his wife agrees), but this visit has him on a low sodium diet. The limited food choice is making him cranky.

I woke up singing “In A Big Country” by Big Country this morning. Not infrequently, sunshine and sprawling green vistas summon this 1983 song to emerge from the deep memory well into consciousness.

Been writing like crazy every day. I’m closing on the end of the first draft of the novel-in-progress. I’m one who modifies and edits as I progress, tidying pacing and story, clarifying details, and sharpening focus as I go. I’ve also been reading a great deal, two to three books a week. Last week was Transcriptions (Kate Atkinson), Echo Burning (Lee Child), and Under a Midnight Sun (Keigo Higashino). This week, it’s The Night Watchman (Louise Erdrich), Circe (Madeline Miller), and The Sentinel (Lee Child with Andrew Child).

Still keeping up with my walking, too (knock on wood), achieving at least twelve miles per day, averaging 12.3 miles per day for the last six months. It’s a lot easier with the long days of sunshine and comfortable weather.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get the vax. Got my coffee. Gonna go write like crazy, at least one more time.

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Floofcocious

Floofcocious (floofinition) – 1. An animal who exhibits mature qualities at an unusually early age.

In use: “The floofcocious young puppy approached the elderly dog with surprising reserve and respect, carefully stepping around them, letting them sleep.”

2. A person who understands and empathizes with animals at a very young age.”

In use: “The child was floofcocious, bottle-feeding orphaned kittens and puppies animals by the time she was four years old, sitting and comforting old dogs and cats at animal shelters when she was five, reading them stories every day.”

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Would I Lie?

I enjoy watching “Would I Lie to You?” Hosted by Rob Brydon, Lee Mack and David Mitchell lead two teams. Two guest celebrities appear on each team every show, people like Bob Mortimer (who shares hilarious tales), Jo Brandt, Richard Osmen, and Greg Davis. The team members then tell a story about something that happened to them. The other team then guesses whether it’s a lie or true. Points are awarded. Yes, it’s British. My favorite episode involved Germane Greer and cannibalism. I love how the panels and Rob really get into the premise.

I stream it on Britbox via Amazon. I’ve watched many episodes more than once, tests to see how well my memory works as I try to recall if they’re lying or telling the truth. I’m usually wrong. I don’t think that bodes well for me doing my taxes in the future.

Whenever I watch the show, I think, what tales could I share? I’ve come up with one. First, the opening statement. That’s what’s used to launch the premise and cross-examination.

I once passed out three times trying to give blood just so I could have a doughnut.

They would ask the usual questions. When did this happen? Where? How old were you?

I’d answer, “I was in my early twenties, working at a bank in Pittsburgh, PA. The American Red Cross was having a blood drive in the lobby. If you give blood, you’re given a free doughnut. I really wanted a doughnut, so I took my place in line. Then, well, as I approached, I fainted.”

For some reason, as I write this, I imagine it being spoken in David Mitchell’s voice.

You fainted, will be repeated. I’ll nod, affirming that’s what happened.

Then?

“They put me on one of the little beds they had set up and gave me some orange juice. I returned to my desk, but I really wanted a doughnut. I got back in line and fainted again.”

They would ask me, “Was this your first time giving blood? Have you ever fainted before? Do you have a history of fainting?”

It was my first time giving blood. I’d never fainted before.

The ARC again put me on one of their little beds with orange juice. After I felt better, I returned to my desk. But…

I really wanted a doughnut.

I returned to the line, worked my way forward, and fainted again.

“A third time,” people exclaim. “Boy, you really wanted that doughnut.”

“Well, it was free,” I reply, “and I like doughnuts.”

“What kind of doughnuts were they? Were they special doughnuts?”

“Glazed.”

“Were you hurt whenever you fainted?” They would ask. “When you say, fainted, do you mean that — what do you mean?” (Lee Mack is questioning me; I hear his voice.)

“I swooned,” I answer. “My vision grew dim, my legs grew weak and then buckled, I lost consciousness, and found myself being helped off the floor.”

“How long were you out?” Lee asks.

“Not long, a few seconds, maybe ten seconds, I guess.”

“Did you ever get a doughnut?”

“No.”

Rob asks, “Well, Lee, it’s time to decide if he’s telling a lie or telling the truth.”

He’s lying, they agree. Nobody would get in line three times just for a doughnut. Or the ARC would give him a doughnut after the second time, to reward him for his efforts.

“It is a lie,” I tell them when the time comes. “The truth is, it wasn’t me; it was my sister.”

And that’s the truth.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Hello, world. Saturday, April 3, 2021 is or has arrived, depending on where you are when you read this. It could also already be gone by the time this post crosses your path.

The timestamp shows that Sol showed up in Ashland at 6:50 AM Pacific Time. She’s gonna cut out again at 7:39 PM. Meanwhile, she is warming us a bit, so we’re expecting a high temp in the low seventies F.

Today’s music is “Kodachrome”, brought to you by Paul Simon back in 1973. Over on Facebook, Mom shared a series of photos showing four to six young cousins from, the offspring of three different sisters, cuddling and playing in a chair at her house. These would be grandnieces and grandnephews to me. The oldest was ten and the ages dropped off to two. All are caught smiling and laughing. The photos were taken a few years ago.

It reminded me of going home at times. Home was always where mom or my mother-in-law lived. They always asked, “When are you coming home?” I may have left those homes when I was a teenager, establishing homes for me and my wife around the world, but our mothers always asked, “When are you coming home?”

Part of being back home was discovering the old family photos. As older relatives, boxes and envelopes of old photographs arrived. Time was spent studying these things. Sometime notes, dates, or memories established what we were seeing, but many times, we were left with questions of who, when, where?

Thinking of these digital photographs, caught on phones, transferred to computers, displayed on FB, I wondered what it’ll be like in fifty years for these children. Will FB be there to display the photos and remind them of who put it on the net? Or will they be processing through some machine on some night when their mind is restless, put in the right information and stumble across the photos by themselves? Will they remind that date, that chair, those cousins? Will they all still be tight as friends?

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, get the vax, and build some memories. Here’s the music, released back when I was a kid. Cheers

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