Category: memories

Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: R&R – relieved and relaxed

Today is Sunday, September 17, 2023. It’s 58 F outside with a high of 68 F on the books as the forecast. Overcast skies command the area, and heavy rain is projected later. We’re looking forward to it.

My nephew’s wedding is over. Wasn’t without a hiccup for my spouse and I. We began by going to the wrong venue. We made it to the right one in time, which was the Phipp’s Conservatory, but not the othe Phipps place, which was the gardens. But once we were in sprawling grounds, we were like, now where do we go? We saw a wedding, went through. Nope; not our wedding. By now, we began finding others like us, wandering around in search of the wedding. Instructions were given. We followed those through the maze, finding more people looking for the wedding until we were a party of twelve. “Don’t follow us,” on said. “We don’t know where we’re going.” “Safety in numbers,” I replied, and several, “Yes, good.” Eventually, the way was found and we arrived. More arrived afterward, so we weren’t the last.

The ceremony was outside, in 70 F degree air under a marbled blue and white sky shortly before sunset. The flower girls were beautiful in green satin gowns, as were the ringbearers. These were young nieces. My sister was gorgeous in a merlot satin floor length gown. None, though, was as resplendent and stunning as the bride in traditional white with a train. Quite lovely. Then there was her hubby to be, nervously chuckling, tears ready to break out, in a black tux. They were a beautiful couple, and I was pleased to be there to witness the continuation of their relationship into the next stage.

Later, there were toasts by the bride’s father and my sister. Misidentified as Susan instead of Sharon, she addressed that gaffe with amusement, rolling it into her commentary about her new daughter-in-law. The couple had met via Bumble during COVID’s early days. They told of long, aimless walks together, the burgeoning realization that they were in love, always looking forward to seeing each other, counting the days and hours when away from the other. I’m so happy for them.

Next was the first dance, Ed Sherran with “Perfect”. We watched and smiled, teary-eye as the two privately danced in public, smiling, hugging, kissing, whispering.

Then was delicious food, and the cookie table. The wedding cookie table tradition in Pittsburgh began around the nation during The Depression of the 1930s. People couldn’t afford to make wedding cakes because of butter shortages and prices, so the cookie table, a community initiative, was taken on to overcome the problem. And so it continues.

Little boxes were provided to us. I’m pleased to say that I led the way, hitting the table to admire the goods and collect my share. The rest began descending like murders of crows. Good times.

Finally the dance floor. We stormed it in waves, getting down to songs from several decades, dancing with strangers, sisters, wife, brother-in-laws, nephews, nieces.

So, for a while, we put everything aside to focus simply on this couple and their joy. We’re fortunate and privileged to be able to do so, I know, and it is flatly at odds with so much happening in the world. Everyone deserves such a day and hour, and it’s a sad testimony to our state of existence that food insecurities, wars, and disasters keep many from even enjoying a happy minute.

Stay pos, be strong, and keep building on positive experiences. Coffee is being consumed; breakfast is on hold. One of the frustrating aspects of my relationship with my wife is that she doesn’t usually want to eat until after 11 AM, and I awake hungry hours before. We compromise by alternating between satisfying our needs.

Although The Neurons kicked “Roots” (Imagine Dragons) and “Whatever Gets You Thruthe Night” (John Lennon) in the morning mental music stream (Trademark traded), I’m overruling them for Ed Sheeran and “Perfect”. Here’s the tune. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Posting note: once again victimized by WordPress; post went into autosaving mode and never left it. Had to start over, once again. And then, one more time. Sigh. Tech can be capricious but conversely, where would we be without the dang stuff?

Mood: variable, sunny to moody to frustrated to pensive

W-1. Wedding is tomorrow night. Tonight is the meet n’ greet cocktail gig. Don’t know who will attend, so anticipation has a ragged edge. Several sisters and their spouses bowed out. Bummer but they have issues they’re dealing with, such as preparing for surgery or dealing with a teenage son dealing with his newfound health issues. The son loved playing basketball; now, due to fits of dizziness caused by medication used to combat seizures, he can’t play b-ball. His weight has ballooned by twenty pounds and he’s of course, depressed. Not a good place for a fourteen year old or his parents and family.

We’ve moved hotels. The first, a Holiday Inn Express, was chosen for easy access to family and familiarity with the area, Monroeville and Penn Hills. Now we’ve shifted to the Hyatt House in Shadyside, where the wedding will be.

Weather here continues to be big sun and cool air, a pleasant, refreshing, relaxing combo. Sounds like a drink advertisement: “Drink weather, a pleasant, refreshing, relaxing flavor that your body and mind will love.”

Still reeling from the Libya flooding disaster. We just seem to pivot from disaster to disaster: within the past few weeks we surfed from Hawaii’s fires to Morocco’s quakes (over twelve thousand dead) to Hurricane Lee to Libya’s flooding (over one thousand dead) to the tropical storm formerly known as Lee, with some domestic and political drama (auto worker strikes, Hunter Biden’s legal issues, China’s missing defense minister) sprinkled over it to add depths.

Los Neurons have activated Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers with “The Waiting” (1981) in the morning mental music stream (Trademark unheard of). It’s fitting. Although well-practiced in waiting (I’m 67, been married over 48 years, and was in the military for over twenty years, things which all reinforced the need to wait for things to happen), I’m not good at it. After months of slow pacing toward the day, acceleration exploded this week. Suddenly days are falling off the cliff and the moment is here. But that sort of time change happens with many things we’re anticipating, doesn’t it.

Stay pos and be strong, and try to stay sober. I’ll do the same. Hand me that coffee, wouldja? Here’s the beats. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: brisk

It’s W-2: two days before the wedding. The women have been comparing dresses and shoes for the event and talking about their hair.

Men have been complaining about how their clothes fit.

Nervous excitement is burgeoning.

It’s September 14, 2023, in the burgh of Pitts, Pennsylvania. Lovely fallish weather with a low 70s F high. Sweeet. Family visits have been fun. Instructional. We catch up on matters of health and recent experiences, with a common refrain about how conversational matter has changed through the years; we used to talk about many other matters. We still do, but the proportions have shifted. Mom looks good, better than expected from the daily text message complaints and updates she provides. My sisters and their hubbies look well, healthy, happy, but that defies some of the topics and details they go into.

My wife and I are enjoying a swell time, although sharing a bathroom demonstrates privilege and how we’ve taken for granted having two bathrooms to spread out and do our morning things. With one BR, regimenting and rationing time and functions is required. We’re used to two places, where it can all be done in parallel, without interference from the other.

For a while, The Neurons entertain me with the song “Sisters” by Irving Berlin from 1954 in the morning mental music stream (Trademark laughable). Both parts were sung by Rosemary Clooney. I know the words well because both Mom and my wife would sing that song, although I’ve never heard the two of them sing it together. It’s a terrific ditty about love and relationships.

But those those Neuron scamps brought up D. Bowie with “Changes” from 1972, because, you know, I’m driving around the old life zones from my youth around Penn Hills and Monroeville, spotting changes and differences, right?

Stay pos, be strong and brave, and keep pressing forward. I’ll try doing the same. Coffee helps me on my journey. Hope you got something that helps you, too. Okay, pressing on. Here’s the beats. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: watchful

Tuesday, September 12, 2023. At the airport. 5:05 AM, bracing myself against the chilly night air. Dawn is haranguing the eastern darkness. We were picked up at 4:20, deposited here at 4:45, waiting for our flight now. Seems to be on time. Travelers trapped in drowsy amber drag bags, watching, listening, killing time, anxiously fidgeting. My wife and I settle and chat. Worries and anxieties are voiced on her end. I do what I can to reassure her. I’ve traveled a lot, usually alone, and just roll as I need to. She tends to work herself up into indignation and irritation.

The Neurons are playing “Leaving on A Jet Plane”. John Denver. Mama Cass. Peter, Paul, and Marry.

Of course The Neurons are playing this. What else would they be playing? Well, they’re The Neurons, so that query is wholly hypothetical. They shift to “Silver Bird”. Mark Lindsay. “Jet Airliner” – Steve Miller – comes up, which is then replaced by Pink Floyd, “Learning to Fly”. “The Letter” by The Four Tops – “Give me a ticket for an aeroplane” – supersedes it, then it’s another “Learning to Fly”, this time by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. “Come Fly with Me”, Frank Sinatra follows.

I’m reminded of how it used to be to fly, when friends, relatives, lovers would escort people down to the gate. Can’t do that these days. That’s all left beyond the security’s other side.

Then a woman tells the child with her, “Come here, stand by me.” And that changes where The Neurons are hanging around. Let that, I hear “Stand By Me”, but it’s the version made by “Playing for Change”. Okay, I’ll take that, Neurons. If I can ever harness their energy, I might be able to get more done.

So here we are, and there we go, today’s theme music. I’m looking forward to getting on the aircraft and going back to sleep as we wing down to SFO from southern Oregon. Then, after I board that next flight, I’ll indulge in a cuppa joe. Just a few more minutes and boarding will begin.

Stay pos, test negative, be strong, and remain on course. Time to board. Here’s the tune. See ya. Cheers

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The Writing Moment

I’m forced to my secondary coffee ship for my writing day because the primary is too busy. It’s a case of ‘good for them’ but also, ‘damn it’, which results in a ‘c’est le vie’ tie.

In the secondary, I’m reduced to my tertiary favorite spot. I call it ‘The Chilly Corner’ because it’s the chilliest space in the coffee shop. Poor planning on my end means I don’t have a piece of fleece to put on, as I often carry, even on the hottest of days. These places love to chill out, ha-ha.

Whenever I come to the chilly corner, though, The Neurons call up Henry James’s short story, “The Jolly Corner”. In a way, it’s apt; I come here to meet and work with my writing alter ego. There hasn’t been any hauntings yet, beyond what the muses come and tell me. I have had altercations with my alter ego, who sometimes complains he’d like to be out doing something else.

Too bad for him. Fortunately for me, he’s not overpowered me. I suppose I should add, not yet.

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood:

Good day to you from Ashlandia, where the road construction continues as we move into autumn’s waters.

It’s 9/11, and you know what that means in 2023. It’s also a Monday. Everyone will be looking back on the 9/11 part. We’ve already had 60Minutes do it. No doubt, that brave journalistic effort will be repeated with solemn broadcasts across the country. Some will probably speculate, could 9/11 happen in America today? Others will remember how the tragedy ‘brought the country together’. More will point out that many of the security measures installed after 9/11 were kneejerk reactions that created the cumbersome Homeland Security. Another faction will discuss the intelligence failures and whether we’ve fixed that while more pundits will write that, noting how Americans reacted to fear, the GOP has seized on fear as their Big Tool for getting voters’ attention and scaring them into supporting the GOP. The GOP will blow things out of proportion and flat lie to that end in these days. We have the videos.

So, first, a correction; I’d seen a weather report that said we were going to be climbing into the upper nineties in our area. I don’t know if I imagined that or if they changed it, but that’s all gone. We’re going to stay mostly in the 80s F. Today we’re at 60 F and we’ll hit 82 F. It’s good tedium to have these manageable, predictable temps.

Sirens are going by down on the main road. I listen and wonder about the story behind them. They stop abruptly; I listen and watch to see if they come up our street. Muses in me automatically created a speculative vignette about what’s going on. My rational mind wonders, what type of vehicle is driving that siren. Worries about fires and friends butterfly around my head.

Flying out tomorrow, so we have prep work underway today. Packing, final cleaning, final coordination with the house/floof sitter. She’s a good friend and good person who enjoys floofs. We’re lucky to have her. It’ll be a day of traveling tomorrow, beginning pre-dawn thirty, flying across the nation from left coast to where the three rivers meet in western Pennsylvania. We’ll be there a while with a wedding in the middle of the visit this weekend.

The Neurons are feeding “A Day in the Life” by les Beatles (1967) into the morning mental music stream (Trademark in jeopardy). The lyrics also hooked my mind and take me into more introspective places. I’ve always thought it was a telling commentary on different points of view with one enjoying drugs, shaking their head at the endless news stream, and the other just dealing with the mechanics of existing and working, doing little thinking about anything outside of that. To those end, I considered it a yin and yang statement on where we are as a modern civilization. But that’s just me. The more existential question is, what are The Neurons up to, feeding this into me? Well, this time my guess is about watching and reading the news and noting others’ reactions to these cycles. They tune in and tune out; and I do the same.

Off to wage peace on the day. Stay pos, be strong, and keep chill. Coffee mug is warming my hand whenever I pause, sipped and gulped to stir the gray beings populating my brain. There must be billions of them. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: spirited

Seems like Indian Summer is on its way here in Ashlandia, where the peaches were sweet and juices this year, and the cherries were no-shows. 64 F now, 82 is today’s high, but get ready; we’re heading into the upper nineties this week.

It’s Sunday, September 10, 2023

Technically, if one can say such a thing for an expression like Indian Summer, it can’t be Indian Summer now, as it’s September, and it’s still summer. According to the sages, Indian Summer happens in October or November, and at least after autumn commences. But they’re not sure about the phrase’s origins, and can only make educated guesses about it. Then, they applied those rules about when it is and isn’t.

Horrific news out of Morocco as the death count after the quake rose and rose. At least 2,000, were killed by the ‘strongest quake in 100 years’, and more were injured and displaced. In other news, someone is killing trees in a wealthy enclave around Sidney, Australia. Locals theorize that someone is doing it to improve their view of the water. Sadly, as one person mentions, property values are all about things like views. It seems totally possibly in this age, doesn’t it? And as another interviewee said, they’ll probably get away with it. Another grrr moment in life.

Playing with Whichbook.net, a tool designed to help you find your next read. I’ve never had a problem finding my next book to read. So many books at there waiting to be read, my problem is that I need to make more time to read them. But that then takes away time from other things. Terrible, ugly circle of time and things to do. But I checked out the tool because I was curious. Twenty-four attributes you can look for in a novel are listed. Things like, “Short, Long”, “Happy, Sad”, “Optimistic, Bleak”. You can select four. A slider feature lets you put greater emphasis on one side of the scale over the other. I suppose it can be useful if you’re really in a muddle about to read or at a lost because you’ve tired of a genre and you’re trying to find something different. It’s interesting that it doesn’t address genre or era.

Once again, The Neurons pried a song out of the vault and tossed it into the morning mental music stream (Trademark fishy) without giving any clues about their logic. In this case, the song began while doing various tasks at home under the general umbrella of housekeeping. Then the song started: “When I think of those East End lights, muggy nights, pink curtains drawn in the room downstairs.” Yes, it’s the 1975 Elton John song, “Someone Saved My Life Tonight”. Although other songs came and went for a while as I cleaned, this song arose in the MMMS this morning. It could just be that The Neurons started roaming through my mind as I worked, bored with what I was doing, and brought up this and those other old songs to alleviate the tedium. But why’d they put it back in the MMMS? Another question which I can’t answer.

Time to commence things, like drinking coffee. Stay pos, be cool, be strong. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: focused

It’s cool and blue in Ashlandia, where the nights are getting longer, and the people are looking inward. 60 F now on this Thursday, the seventh day of September, 2023 in the common era, but we will experience 81 F today. I’ll take that. No wildfire smoke. The fires are slowly being contained. Last week’s rain helped. That pressure — worrying about fires encroaching on your town, your home, and eating it until only blackened messes remained — has eased.

The cats approve of the weather change. Papi remains on his out-at-night schedule, but he’s now more likely to be visible in a resting space just outside one of the doors during the day. Tucker has decided he’s an elder statesfloof, who are beings who don’t worry about details about weather and seasons.

Watching Hurricane Lee’s progress today. Another destructive storm, it is missing Puerto Rico at this point, and looks like it might lick the Bahamas. Early days, yet, but it could avoid the US eastern coast except for some tide and surf impacts. Meanwhile, some of the US in the realms of the east and south continue to endure a record-setting heatwave as they cruise toward autumn. San Antonio has had 70 days over 100 F degrees. I remember when I lived there back in 1980, we were impressed that we had eleven straight days over 100. That’s nothing these days.

Also paying attention to conversations and lawsuits addressing whether Donald Trump can or should be on ballots, discussions about the potential government shutdown, and the continuing war in Ukraine. Also interesting news and data about abortion rates was found in the NYTimes. There was too much other matters — uplifting and depressing — to go on about without caffeine.

From out of the blue — or out of the gray, I guess — The Neurons are treating me to the 1970 song, “Ride Captain Ride” by the Blues Image in my morning mental music stream (Trademark revocable). I can speculate about this song’s place in my day’s thinking. Maybe it’s because I’m thinking of my youth and this 1970 song was part of the scene in my fourteenth year, when many things are happening to a boy’s mind, body, and soul. Or, it could be the sense of focus and promise the song offers to me. Who knows what The Neurons latched onto? I certainly don’t.

Stay pos, be strong, and eat well. Here’s the music — which, um, is an interesting video, a product of the times back then. Hope you enjoy it. Coffee time, one more time. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: sultry

Wednesday in Ashlandia, where the air is clear today, and the people are happy, today. 58 F now, the weather system is expected to deliver a high of 82 this afternoon before the night shift comes on.

Ukraine’s stand against Russia’s land grab continues, which is good for the number of deaths but not anything else. War, what is it good for, you know. This one isn’t good for anything. I’m impressed by Ukraine’s stand and hope that Russia — sorry, Putin — will come to his senses and declare a cease fire. Not holding my breath, though.

I applaud Gov. Kemp’s stand against the false election lie peddlers, aka Trumpists and MAGAts. Nice to hear some principles of law are respected by a few Republicans, at least on this matter. I’m weary of the others and their constant cry about stolen elections. No evidence, turned down in multiple courts, multiple levels, multiple states. Yet their claims keep going. The trail against Trump and gang will be intriguing.

Was some good news when DNA evidence cleared a man of wrongful conviction after five decades. Imagine the weight of being accused and convicted while you know you’re innocence, and all that happens to you in the penal system after such a conviction. Imagine that weight being finally lifted when you’re 72 years old.

Reading about Gary Wright’s death from cancer at a respectable age of 80 — not bad for a rocker — has The Neurons playing “Dream Weaver” (1975) for me in my morning mental music stream (Trademark giftwrapped). It helps that I had several dreams of interest to me. With Buffett Harwell, and Wright’s death, existence lived up to the ‘always in threes’ billing of celebrities dying.

Stay pos and strong, and raise your head and look forward to what you can do. I’ll do the same after I have some strong black coffee. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: bubbly

A chill holiday Monday morning in Ashlandia, where the lawns can be green and lush, or dry and brown, depending on your ability to afford water. Clouds have sway over the scene. No rain is expected but one wonders with fifty shades of gray drifting overhead. Yardwork has commenced out there somewhere — you can hear the power tools cutting, blowing, trimming. It never ends for some, and they don’t take breaks until snow seizes the space. Fall seems truly on the way, with 60 F again our morning temp and an afternoon high of 72 F anticipated. This is September 4, 2023. Happy birthday if it’s your day, likewise happy anniversary, and congratulations.

Slow news day, of course, as is the American holiday tradition. Steve Harwell’s death at 56 from liver issues has us talking. In light of Buffett’s death, we remember the many years when ‘always in threes’ seemed to rule. This was a general observation that celebrities and famous people die in clumps of three at a time. It’s been studied and disproven, but here we are, two gone.

If it’s not on your news feed, Harwell was a Smash Mouth founder and member up until a few years ago. (Smash Mouth is an American rock band.) Naturally Los Neurons have plucked Harwell songs from the gray vault of memory and slide them into the morning mental music stream (Trademark offered). I’m going with “Walking on the Sun” in 1997. When the song was unleashed on the world, it was one that gave pause to listen and think, “Wait, what’s he singing?” Written in the aftermath of the 1992 Rodney King riots, some band members dubbed it a social justice battle cry. I’ve always interpreted it as a song bitter with recognition that we keep doing insipid things while much greater problems taking place are shoved into the background. Big reason for this happening is how often the media treats news like entertainment, advocating for a local escaped convict in one city or town with the same time and passion as hurricanes, earthquakes, and wildfires. Need the white girl syndrome need be mentioned? Anyway, with the world on fire again or still, thought it was proper tribute to Harwell and the Earth’s situation to have this song on Labor Day in America.

Stay pos, be brave, be strong. Time to press on one more time, one more day. Here’s my coffee, and the music. Cheers

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