Sunday’s Theme Music

Today’s theme music entered my stream due to some nocturnal emissions.

Nocturnal emissions, if you don’t know, is also known as phantom writing. It’s the practice of writing in your bed when you’re supposed to be sleeping.

I’d been sleeping when both calf muscles seized, throwing me awake. After my wife and I rubbed the spasm with some toe-flexing help, I went through the dream I’d been in and then my thoughts drifted into the novel in progress. Turning to what’s happening in the novel, I thought, “What are these deeds? Who is doing them?”

That created an easy transition to “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” by AC/DC (1976). With that rocking my head, sleep easily pulled me in.

Sing along if it moves you. The words are easy to learn.

 

Saturday’s Theme Music

The season change has prompted thoughts of dancing, you know, dancing to change, dancing to the joy of warming weather, rising greenery, leaves on trees, and blooming flowers and buds. A lot of good dance songs exist but I turned to “Dance, Dance” by Fall Out Boy. It came out in 2005, fourteen years ago, so does that make it an oldie? How long must a song be out before it’s an oldie, a golden oldie, and a classic? Any thoughts?

Friday’s Theme Music

This one popped into my stream and then I sang it to one of my cats. The song, “Cool Jerk” by The Capitols, came out in 1966. I was ten and I thought this was a cool song. I still enjoy its beats, that bass, that piano, those lyrics and deliveries. I’ve never heard one of the cover songs (and there are many out there) that rose up to this version.

The cat’s version, of course, subs cat for jerk in the song. “Cool cat,” bum bum bum ba bum bum bum, “cool cat.” It was Papi on the receiving end and came about as the big dark ones, Boo and Tucker, were in one of their stand-offs. Papi, the svelte, young ginger, gave each a glance and sauntered between them.

Definitely a cool cat.

A Modified Process

I live now with a catheter in my bladder, draining my urine into a bag that I drain several times a day. I have a night bag and a leg bag. The holding bags and their tubes offer their own challenges about swapping and draining them. Given the catheter’s retention location on my upper thigh, it also makes bowel movements an interesting exercise. Bending and walking are also problematic.

Getting the catheter in was an experience. Living with it is another. Having it helps me respect the medical events and treatments that people endure. I’ve had it good as such things go. Although they sound like they’re something — broken and displaced wrist, broken neck, stitches in my skull, ear lobe stitched back on, hernia, toe-tip cut off by a lawnmower, bronchitis, mono, broken ankles, broken teeth, etc. — they’re small things in the greater order of existence and endurance. Better, they’re temporary, with end dates.

Our warfare kills on large, constant scales, and the warfare results in people without limbs, scarred by burns, and shattered by trauma. Many people endure chronic or terminal diseases, relentless illnesses that erode their strength and energy, chipping away from who they were and what they could do, haunting them until they’re dead. Others are abused and betrayed, resulting in destroyed mental and emotional faculties. Others are born with handicaps and genetic deficiencies. I’m fortunate. My afflictions are short-lived and allow me to observe and learn from them.

This catheter is expected to be in me seven to ten days. It impacts my writing process because I can’t walk as I’ve done for lo these several years. Yet, I have to write. I must find a way to sit down and put words into the computer. I’ve not written in four days. The need doesn’t go away. It builds as the muses feed ideas that I explore. Scenes explode into my mindscape. Dialogue is heard.

I originally developed the write and walk process to enable my writing efforts in my military career’s final year. I expanded on it when I was working for startups, and then for Tyco and IBM, the companies that swallowed the startups, carving out time for myself and putting writing as a higher priority in my daily to-do list. I needed a process to remove me from sales, marketing, and product development, and put me in a frame of thinking to create fiction.

A new process is needed because the dream and desire to write remains. Got my hot tea. I’m in my home office. A cat is snoring nearby. Another is asleep on my feet. Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Today’s song, “Happy” by Pharrell Williams, is a repeat. “Happy” was a theme song back in 2016 on the final Friday before our national elections. D.J.T.’s bizarre campaign was about to end, alleviating us of the lies and B.S. he constantly spouted.

Oh, if we only knew.

I don’t know why I’m streaming it today. It’s just in my head. I was surprised when it didn’t win an Academy Award. I shouldn’t have been surprised, as I’m not good at such predictions.

Anyway, once again, a song must be shared to purge it from my stream. As songs go, a worst one could be found.

Monday’s Theme Music

My stream hauled this one out of 1973’s memory bins.

My friends weren’t familiar with Montrose’s work. Their music struck me as raw and elemental. I often sang them aloud to entertain myself as I went about being a student. Most people reacted, “What are you singing?” This was the question no matter what Montrose song was being sung. Could be that it was my singing.

One day, while singing “Rock Candy”, a grinning Scott said, “Is that Montrose?”

“Yes, it is Montrose, “Rock Candy”,” I confirmed.

“You like Montrose?” he asked.

“No, I’m singing it to be perverse,” I said, adding, “stupid fucking question.”

Scott was a new student. Part of a wealthy family, he’d been kicked out of several private schools and had convinced his parents to let him go to a public high school. We shared several AP classes and were on the sports teams together. He was friendly but a little distant, with an interesting sense of humor. He and I were suddenly great friends because of Montrose. Scott sought me out about other groups, and then expanded our relationships to books we were reading.

His big ambition was to crew a ship and see the world. I joined the military and did the same. I haven’t seen him since we graduated in 1974.

I still sing “Rock Candy” when I’m out walking. I mean, come on:

But you’re rock candy, baby
You’re hard, sweet, and sticky, yes
You’re rock candy, baby
Hard, sweet, and sticky, oh, yes

h/t to Songlyrics.com

Oh, yes.

Sunday’s Theme Music

I was streaming several songs this morning, including “Timothy Leary” by the Moody Blues, but looking out the window at the emerging spring day and the hopes for more pleasant weather, I selected another oldie for today’s theme.

Here’s Friends of Distinction with “Grazing In The Grass” (1969). As Harry Elston sings, “What a trip just watching as the world goes past.” Perfect for a mellow-ish Sunday.

Thursday’s Theme Music

Found myself singing The Cult, “She Sells Sanctuary” (1985). Sanctuary was on my mind, partly through writing and reading influence but also due to various news articles and local events. Locally, forty-eight hundred customers, including my house, have been without natural gas since Monday. It’s expected to be restored by Friday afternoon at my house. That diminished my sense of sanctuary but also stirred reflections on how much is accepted and taken for granted as a given – gas and electricity to heat and cook water to bath, drink, and cook; and protection from the elements. I see homeless people everyday that don’t have these things. I recognize they don’t have them and feel for them, but with my temporary losses magnified my empathy for people going without. As too many times with privileged folks like me, it takes an inconvenience to look harder and think deeper.

 

Wednesday’s Theme Music

I thought my cats were singing today’s theme music. As I did the morning rituals of feeding cats, dressing, and foraging for coffee, they took turns stalking me, rubbing against my legs, sitting on my feet, giving me adoring gazes, and purring like mad. They wouldn’t relent, and I picked up that they were singing, “I got my mind set on you.”

You might recall the 1987 George Harrison cover of the 1962 song, “I’ve Got My Mind Set on You,” released by Harrison as “Got My Mind Set on You”, or the Weird Al parody, “(This Song’s Just) Six Words Long”. According to the feline streams hitting my music stream (a wholly telepathic thing), the cats were singing the Harrison cover.

I’ll go with it, just to purge it from my stream.

 

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