Today’s song, “Where Is My Mind?” by the Pixies (1988) is an old favorite.
I didn’t learn about the Pixies until I read comments Kurt Cobain made about them, and how they play soft/loud. After hearing that, I went in search of. Listening to “Heart Shaped Box” reminded me of that.
So they were in my mind’s forefront when my wife wondered last night, “Where is my head?” That was enough for my mental Alexa to play, “Where Is My Mind?”
With your feet on the air and your head on the ground, Try this trick and spin it, yeah
Someone said something about complaining. I thought, oh, boy, a new complaint.
I guess my mind’s Alexa thought that I’d requested a song with those lyrics. Next thing in my mind was Kurt Cobain shouting, “Hey! Wait! I got a new complaint.” Then it was on, and Nirvana’s “Heart-Shaped Box” (1993) was raging.
Such a dark song it is. Despite the morning’s sunshine, these feel like dark times. We were being pretty self-congratulatory about flattening the curve. Rona said, “Hold my beer.”
Out here in our little semi-rural county, we’ve seen a jump. Announcements came today that the jump was traced to a party. The original carrier was found to be from out of state.
Hey! Wait! I gotta new complaint.
I was reading about the chaos in other states yesterday. There’s little consistency between counties and cities. There’s no consistency between states or across the nation. The Golfer-in-Chief is more concerned about his rallies, convention, and poll numbers to bother about doing something decisive about the friggin’ rona.
Hey! Wait! I gotta new complaint.
In an ironic twist, the GOP, at Trump’s urging, dumped Charlotte, NC, for the convention site because, masks! Now Jacksonville, Florida, new site of the convention in eight weeks has ordered, masks!
Hey! Wait! I gotta new complaint.
Give me a little time. I’ll think of it. Here’s the music.
I know this song because Mom liked it, played it, and sang it. A country song, its cover by Jeannie C. Riley became a cross-over hit in 1968. The song later became the basis for a movie and a television show.
Why is it in my head today? My best guess is that my brain is playing head games with me. But the song is about the establishment (you know them), change, hypocrisy, rebellion, and judgement, (along with small town life) so that fits the here and now of our times, no? Sure, we can stretch.
Here’s Jeannie C. Riley with “Harper Valley PTA”.
I want to tell you all the story ‘Bout a Harper Valley widowed wife Who had a teenage daughter Who attended Harper Valley Junior High
Well, her daughter came home one afternoon And didn’t even stop to play And she said, “Mom, I got a note here From the Harper Valley PTA”
Well, the note says, “Mrs. Johnson You’re wearing your dresses way too high It’s reported you’ve been drinkin’ And a runnin’ ’round with men and goin’ wild”
“And we don’t believe you ought to be A bringin’ up your little girl this way” And it was signed by the secretary Harper Valley PTA
The civic powers have decided there’s gonna a be a youth baseball tournament in our area this weekend. Thirty-two teams are coming from all over California and Oregon.
Gosh, I think this is a great idea. Snark, in case it’s not recognized.
Yes, social distancing rules will be in play. Only a hunnert people on a field at a time. But let’s see, thirty-two teams, say fifteen people to a team including coaches, support, and chaperones, and suddenly an four to five hundred people are running around town. Going to social distance? Hmmm…
Then there are fans…
Hmmm…
So, we went shopping today. Had to be done, Costco and Trader Joe’s, our go-tos. TJ was a blessed sanctuary. Everyone masked, not many people, all observing the SD guidelines and playing nice.
We zipped out to Costco. It wasn’t opening for thirty more minutes. “Should we get in line?” the spouse asked.
What line? I saw people milling. Half weren’t masked. Three fourths weren’t distancing.
“No. We’re not getting in that congregation. Let’s go to Target and get the pet supplies instead.”
Off we went.
Target…jebbus. Most weren’t masked. Social distancing? I don’t think they’d heard the term. My mind recoiled with bitterness. We’re probably looking at walking headlines, I thought. Oh, they went to a ballgame. WEnt shopping. One had symptoms but (fill it in yourself). Gosh, thirty people then tested pos. Gosh, they’re all in isolation, and gosh, some of them are really sick and in the hospital.
Yeah, gosh.
Into all of this came the 1985 Hooters song, “All You Zombies”. I don’t know if these people are unthinking, uncaring, ignorant zombies, a piece of all that, or just rebelling cause ‘Merica, Trump. Don’t know. But they strike me as zombies.
That makes “All You Zombies” today’s theme choice. Zombies come in all shapes, ya know?
A favorite song is stuck in today’s stream, but it’s quite apt for the time. Growing up in the 1960s, Shirley Bassey was a recurring fixture in pop culture. She sang several of the Bond movie theme songs, showed up on television shows, had international hits. Her voice and style were well-known.
So it was something of a delight when the Propellerheads combined with Shirley Bassey in a retro sound, “History Repeating”, in 1997.
[Verse 1] The word is about, there’s something evolving Whatever may come, the world keeps revolving They say the next big thing is here That the revolution’s near But to me it seems quite clear That it’s all just a little bit of history repeating
[Verse 2] The newspapers shout – a new style is growing But it don’t know if it’s coming or going There is fashion – there is fad Some is good – some is bad And the joke is rather sad That it’s all just a little bit of history repeating
Here we are in 2020, struggling to advance rights for women, people of color, regardless of sexual gender, identity, or orientation, while a segment of society tries to anchor us to a time that’s gone. Against that, we’re fighting a pandemic, kind of like that 1917-1918 flu pandemic, and there’s talks of voting rights and states’ rights vs. Fed. rights vs. individual rights…like the American Civil War and the ongoing civil rights movement.
Also, I chose this as my theme song back in back in 2017, so, yeah, “History Repeating” works for today. And it’s a swinging tune.
Yet again, my brain selected a song and has put it on a loop for reasons that I can’t pinpoint.
This one may have to do with the neighbor’s cat passing away. Named Pepper — an independent cat of independent means chasing independent ways and independent dreams — I often called her sugar and sweetness. A tortie, she featured a coal black face with big golden eyes that seemed solemn but optimistic, and a clear, strong voice. So maybe her spirit kicked the song into my head.
Anyway, here is Robin Schulz with “Sugar” from 2015. It uses Baby Bash’s song, “Suga Suga” from 2003 to build upon. Just realized, too, according to my neighbor, Pepper was ‘supposedly’ (they weren’t pos) born in 2003. Admittedly, this song goes against my general principle of referring to women as bitches. Just don’t like it as an expression, attitude, or stereotype.
After waking up and getting up, songs filter in and out of my cogent stream. With a little surprise, I put together their identities:
“One” by U2 and “One” by Three Dog Night, “I’m the Only One” by Melissa Ethridge, “One” by Metallica, “Still the One” by Orleans, “I’m One” by the Who. Another one song, “She’s the One” by Bruce Springsteen finishes the list.
WTH?
It becomes a quietly amusing background thinking game as I do other things, wondering why songs focused on one are in my mental stream. Not necessarily new; my mind has done this to me with other topics. But I can usually pinpoint the root. It’s different today, as I don’t know what’s kicking one into the stream.
I also wonder, why those songs, and not other songs with one in them. Or maybe other songs with one played in my head but I forgot.
Oh, well. After all that, I settled on a Wallflowers favorite from 1997, “One Headlight”. That’s today’s theme music.
So long ago I don’t remember when that’s when they said I lost my only friend they said she died easy of a broke heart disease as I listened through the cemetary trees
I seen the sun comin’ up at the funeral at dawn with the long broken arm of human law now it always seemed such a waste she always had a pretty face I wondered why she hung around this place
hey-ey-ey come on try a little nothing is forever there’s got to be something better than in the middle me and cinderella put it all together we could drive it home with one headlight
Yesterday was in the mid-nineties. Today we’re looking at ninety-eight to one hundred degrees. Heat warnings out, etc..
Can’t complain too much. Had a scorcher back in May, and thought, oh, no, here comes the heat. But June turned mild and rainy. Different from what we usually get, and tres acceptable.
I’m not an air conditioning fan. Prefer not to run it in the house. Seems like a sledgehammer approach to things. I don’t usually run it in the house until the temp inside goes to eight-three. To do this, I cool the house at night, right? Sure. Everyone’s with that. But last night didn’t cool too much (seventy at eleven) (that’s degrees at o’clock PM). The house was comfortable through and it’s comfortable now, but, well, we’re looking at eighty by eleven (temp/time, AM).
Speaking of time and clocks (or writing about them), I was thinking about counter-clockwise. I was following some instructions which used that statement. Which cause wonder, what’d they say before clocks about turning things? I suppose, reflecting on technology, not many things were turned before clocks, and they just said, left or right.
Also, though, kids. Their clocks are digital. Aren’t they? Are they? Don’t have children, so I don’t know what’s in school, and whether that’s still taught. Kind of assumed it wasn’t, since they’re dropped the whole cursive writing business.
But if they’re not shown standard round clocks, being told about turning something counter clockwise must cause a minor brain freeze.
Back to the music. For today’s heat, the theme is “Heat Wave” as covered by Linda Rondstadt back in the last century. The original song was excellent, and there are many terrific versions, but Linda’s version popped up in 1975, so I associate it with driving around and partying as a young adult.
Good lord, we’ve been sheltering in place with limited contact with others since the middle of March. I’ve had itchings to leap into the car and race away, to find some sanctuary at a beach. I’ve sighed over ideas of meandering through book stores. Favorite places get longing looks as I drive by. Small heartaches are felt as advertisements to travel slip past. When will we safely do these things again?
Last night, I sniffed the cooling summer breeze. The breeze smelled like that time I was on Sicily, and recalled a moment on Okinawa, and a summer night in the Philippines. The breeze reminded me of being in bed in Virginia, Pennsylvania, Ohio, and West Virginia when I was a child, and being on holiday with my wife in Astoria, Hawaii, and California. Recollections of living in Germany, standing under the Eiffel Tower, and visiting Korea rode that breeze in. A little bit of the Carolinas, Texas, and Florida came in on that breeze. Other times in Oregon and New Mexico rose on that breeze.
So, yeah, I get restless. After she asked, and I was outside later, staring at the night sky (cloudy, so saw nothing but clouds), a line from Weezer’s “Island in the Sun” (2001) streaked through my stream like a summer meteor.
Today’s song comes fresh out of the dream stream. I awoke singing the song Danny Elfman wrote that he can’t stand, “Weird Science” (Oingo Boingo, 1985). I’ve never seen the movie by the same name. Began watching to see if friends who loved it were right, but didn’t find it that weird, that funny, or that interesting, and too predictable.
Michael Seidel, writer 