Boys and girls in clean baseball uniforms come into the coffee shop and wait for drinks. Last names and numbers adorn the jerseys. The young players all wear their caps with its team insignia. Crocs, or Croc wannabes adorn their feet so they’re not wearing their cleats into the shop.
The parent situation varies. Sometimes a solitary adult accompanies the young athletes; less frequently, it’s a couple. I wonder about the family situation and whether about the significance of the adult situation.
None seem particularly happy. Phones are often studied, arms crossed, as they wait. But one father and the children talk, joke, and laugh.
All so different from my years of young ball playing. This is part of the new Americana, Starbucks, phones, and Crocs. I wonder how many times these scenes play out across the land on this Monday American holiday.
Note: Returned home to discover a technical glitch in The Neurons resulted in a failure to launch.
Mood: understated
Good day. Please come in, come in. Welcome to May 26, 2024. It’s 65 F now, sunny with blue sky outlining a fleet of sulking white clouds. Thunderstorms are possible.
Thunderstorms struck yesterday
Today is part of the middle of the Memorial Day weekend. Take a mo’ to recall all those who lost their lives trying to support the United States’ ideals of freedom, equality, justice, and independence. I know those ideals have always taken some shots. Written by white men, it was mostly written to white men’s benefit. Females and other races were eventually ‘given’ the same rights and benefits as white men.
Well, that’s what it said in the words and documents. They’re based on ideals and logic. Emotions are harder to wrestle. People who don’t like those changes are hostile members of our nation and are regularly rolling over our ideals while bizarrely claiming to be promoting our ideals through their abhorrent behavior. It’s a headscratcher.
My sisters and BIL and I went to the Pitt Floyd show in Oakmont last night. It’s a beautiful old theater, and we had a good time. Most of my good time was because I was with family. The sisters and I laughed and acted silly, and BIL gave perfect support.
The music was okay, as were the accoustics. The show could have used a good sound engineer to balance the notes and volumes, but we can’t have everything. Hearing the collection of PF songs fired a spectrum of emotions. Their early music came out while I was a teenager. Their music was part of my life as albums came out and I went to their shows and cheered the new stuff. They aged, of course. Several members died. This is life. I thank them all for their talents, and thank last night’s musicians for their talents, too.
I had a bizarre incident after I left the show. I’ve been having an issue with my right foot. A matter of pain, motion, and support. Those facets all wax and wane, sometimes limiting my effort to properly walk but generally ceasing after a few minutes.
Well, last night, we left the show. Encountering the band’s female vocalist, we complimented her for the show and her talents. Then, walking across the street, I made a step and turn.
Snap, went my right foot. Crack followed. My foot released its support. My right leg felt like it was kicked out from under me.
I caught myself before I went over. Pain burned through my right foot. Righting myself, I hobbled to the car. By the time I was home, agony has established a home in that foot. Diclofenac Sodium Topical Gel was liberally applied. I slept with my foot on a pile of pillows. It was an uncomfortable night. As a 68 year old man who drank two beers earlier, I had to pee twice. Fortunately, I found an unused cane.
I stayed home this morning, eschewing writing, instead icing, exercising, and massaging my foot. I can’t see any swelling or discoloration. It’s not working right, especially when standing on it alone as I put on my underwear, and going down the steps. Especially the down part. I will live, however.
With Pink Floyd’s songs ringing in my brain and thoughts of the nation’s founders mixing in my head, The Neurons dropped a Pink Floyd tune into the morning mental music stream (Trademark censored). Mom and I had been talking about political news and she commented, “I wonder what the men who wrote the Constitution would say about what’s going on.”
Boom! The Neurons plugged “Wish You Were Here” in. What would John Adams et al say about our current situation? I think they would need to be updated about history, like the American Civil War, the Civil Rights Movement, the ERA, Roe v. Wade and Dobbs decisions, and the other wars which shaped our nation and world.
I don’t know what those guys would say. I’d hope that they’d condemn Trump’s lies and hateful propaganda. I hope they would chastise Trump’s supporters for their appalling ignorance and hypocrisy. I hope they would lecture the corporations for their greed, newspapers for doing a poor job of informing the citizenry, and come down on we citizens for not being being more involved in our nations affairs and our poor voting records.
Enjoy your day. Be strong. Vote Blue in 2024. Gotta go. A cookout calls.
Pervasive bright sunshine announced another day was starting in the Churchill Valley.
It’s Saturday, May 25, 2024. A brand-new Saturday, its warranty covers everyhing that might happen, except climate change, politics, war, protests, and natural disasters.* Besides the forementioned sunshine, it was 68 F outside. Clouds were forming for a parade but not stopping the heat from coming on. We expect a high of 83 F but we’re also expecting thunderstorms.
Reading the news today, The Neurons ended up putting “The Pretender” by the Foo Fighters (2007) into the morning mental music stream (Trademark indicted). With all the ‘pretender possibilities out there in rock music land, I had to pause to hunt down, why is this rocker stomper prevailing in the MMMS?
Coffee-fueled noodling about the song, and I concluded, it’s about the song’s chaos, tension, and its threats of violence, and what might happen. Reminds me of the here and now in he U.S.
Fresh coffee has been poured and consumed. I’m ready to keep on keeping on. Be strong, remain positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here is the music. Hang on. Cheers
*Other restrictions may apply. Warranty voided at midnight. Non-transferrable.
I saw a segment on television about the Arlington National Cemetery and Memorial Day activies. Following a whim, I looked up my little brother’s marker and location. Four years younger than me, he lived for just over a few weeks. I remember the night Mom received the notification that he’d passed. Washing the dishes at the time, she stood there at the sink, a dish cloth in her hand, and cried and sobbed as I watched, asking her, “What’s wrong?”
The weather has dialed it back a scooch. Only 65 F now, we’ll peak at only 80 F today in the Churchill Valley. Thunderstorms are suggested for later today but we didn’t get within sniffy distance of them yesterday. Was supposed to rain, too. Around 4 PM, I asked Alexa when it would rain. Alexa replied, “The rain will stop in a few minutes.”
That flabbergasted me. There was naught but sunshine and some towering cumulonimbus beast. We did eventually catch rain but that was after the sun’s show had gone over the horizon.
In personal news, Mom’s first cleaning service went well. Mom and the cleaner have known one another for over 20 years, and like each other. Kathy did an impressive job. I was pleased all around.
I’ve bought my tickets to return to Ashlandia at the end of next week.
One of last night’s dream featured my wife. We were both young and healthy, as it once was. The dream triggered The Neurons’ memories. They ended up inserting “I’ll Tumble 4 Ya” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark dreamy). This was a Culture Club song. My wife likes it because it’s one of her exercise tunes, and the base of several jokes with her exercise instructor and fellow exercise mates.
Stay positive, remain strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. I have coffee spilling into the body. Here’s the video. Cheers
It’s 65 F. That’s the low for Penn Hills in the Churchill Valley today. The house’s east side is being sunblasted. Clouds? Yes, some particles are stringing together thin white cloud structures. The thermometer is supposed to stop up by 90 F today. It’s Tuesday, May 21, 2024.
Mom’s energy was strong yesterday, a change from the usual. See, there was a birthday celebration on Sunday. Mom was there for about five hours. Normally, such outings deplete her energy stores, so the day after leaves her listless.
But not yesterday. She was spirited and energetic, good to witness. Did her exercises and was quite engaged. Holding my breath on today, but I hope we’re seeing a new trend’s beginning.
I was thinking about my brother-in-law. Married to my oldest younger sisters, he and I have known one another for fifty years, since we were seventeen. Long time to know another who isn’t related or married to you. Sad for me, he swung toward the right wing over thirty years ago and is now a full-blown MAGAr. That limits our conversation and introduces some awkwardness. We’ve tried talking around it, but he often introduces racist or sexist comments, and has that MAGA habit of ignoring one set of facts while adhering to another. Yet, I’m looking forward to being a guest at his house his weekend for a Memorial Day cook-out.
My family is big into gathering for holidays and eating food. Memorial Day cookouts are the standard, even though the starting lineup has changed, and new players have been added through marriages, divorces, deaths, and births.
The Neurons have introduced “Tin Man” to the morning mental music stream (Trademark well-done). I don’t know why. The 1974 song by America has no discernible links to my dreams IMO. Nor are there conversation or activity links. For that matter, the mellow, comfortable song has silly lyrics. Lots of hooks and easy to sing with, but little deep to it.
That’s okay. Maybe The Neurons are ordering me to chill.
BTW, today is birthday boy’s actual birthday. So happy sixteenth, Michael. May your days be as complete and fulfilling as you dream them.
May continues is march. Today is the month’s 17th day.
It’s Friday. Clouds have won the morning, but they’re a modest whipped cream overlay. 63 F out there, 70 F is today’s top. 70 F isn’t bad for me, although it always comes to me as ‘not quite hot, and not quite cold’. I feel like Goldilocks writing that.
I miss my cats, Tucker and Papi. Note: I also miss my wife but I get to chat on the phone with her every day. She presents updates: “It’s nice outside, so they’re out there sleeping somewhere.” Not much color there, but then, but they’re low-key floofies. My wife does tell me that Tucker sleeps with her every night. Papi, of course, wants out. I’ll be happy to be back with them.
The Neurons have plugged a Sly Fox song into the morning mental music stream (Trademark reflected). The group came out with “Let’s Go All the Way” in 1985. As an 1980s product, it offers an eclectic and intriguing mix of techno sounds with mellow, laid-back vocals.
What’s interesting about this song is that many perceived it as a tune about sex. The truth is, it’s about politics. Here’s the initial verse:
Sitting with the thinker Trying to work it out It’s a traffic jam of the brain Makes you wanna scream and shout Presidential party No one wants to dance Looking for a new star To put you in a trance
And the chorus is about a better way:
Let’s go all the way We need heaven on Earth today Aah-aah-aah We can make a better way Let’s go all the way Go all the way Let’s go all the way Yeah
I think The Neurons’ choice is pitch-perfect. We have that guy, Trump, a Bible Belt darling with some. He practices as they preach: hate and name-calling is his daily delivery, for, as the Bible orders, “Hate thy political opponent with all the anger on Earth.” Their Bible seems to also state, “Treat women like they have no rights. Grab by the pussy and move like a bitch. Cheat on thy wives and lust after thy daughter.”
Also in their Bible is the guidance about morals and ethics: “Lie and cheat to get ahead, for more money is key to your place in Heaven.”
So, my fellow Democrats, let’s go all the way. Vote out those MAGA Republicans and make it a better day.
Coffee has made its way to me. Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Then let’s work on restoring voting rights and women’s rights, and rights for everyone everywhere, and act like a compassionate nation that immigrants helped build, instead of treating them like garbage, as the MAGA Bible apparently directs.
I dislike it when I encounter someone who raves about what a great memory I have, and how smart I am, and then denies what I heard them say just the day before.
I read a NYTimes article about Dr. Richard Restak’s new book on aging. His new book is “The Complete Guide to Memory: The Science of Strengthening Your Mind.” The Times’ article’s title is “How to Prevent Memory Loss”, and that sums it up.
As I reach toward the end of my sixties, I think about memory loss, especially forgetfulness. Whenever a moment of forgetfulness strikes my wife or I, she tends to say, “We’re getting old.”
I dispute the idea that my forgetfulness is automatically a product of aging. I didn’t at first but then I began thinking back to previous episodes of forgetfulness in my life. I’ve had brain farts at one time or another, so I don’t think we should assign much importance to them now. Further, I think blaming it on aging is a sort of surrender that will propagate the myth and acceptance that my memory burps are all about aging.
For instance, if you will.
We’ve gone shopping without a list prepared and forgot to buy something. My partner’s almost kneejerk reaction is, “We’re getting old. We need to remember to make and take lists.”
Well, yes, dear, lists are useful. We learned that lesson forty years ago. That’s why we began using lists in the first place. So, it ain’t necessarily because we’re getting old now. It’s because, like those times in our youth when we forgot something, we were busy. We didn’t slow down to think. We let our mind wander from the task.
That’s almost exactly what Dr. Restak notes in his paragraph, “Some memory lapses are actually attention problems, not memory problems.”
That’s why I liked this article. Many of the suggestions and ideas Dr. Restak presents to help prevent memory loss were ideas I’d discovered for myself. So I find it validating. I think practicing self-awareness about how I approach it whenever I forget something is key. Think about the circumstances around why something was forgotten. Reflect on it: was it an isolated moment or part of a larger trend?
A larger trend is more problematic but dig for the roots of it. Don’t automatically react, well, I’m getting old, so I’m getting forgetful. No, be mindful about remembering.
Finally, what really triggered me to think about this as a post subject was his point about reading novels.
Read more novels.
One early indicator of memory issues, according to Dr. Restak, is giving up on fiction. “People, when they begin to have memory difficulties, tend to switch to reading nonfiction,” he said.
Yes, indeed, I thought. Remembering characters and plot events and details is challenging when reading a novel and thoroughly exercises our memory muscles.
But if you think reading a novel is a memory challenge, try writing one. Keeping details in mind of a complex character and involved plot will definitely help exercise your memory.
Now let me get back to editing and revising before I forget what I was doing.
I’m back in spaceship Coffee Shop, beginning to fill with propulsion. We’re heading for another world here.
It’s Wednesday, May 15, 2024, back on Earth. When I first woke, sunshine poured through the eastern windows, bringing serious heat to us. But clouds swarmed in and censored the light, dropping us to lower levels. Presently 63 F, 74 F with rain and thunderstorms are in today’s forecast. Not bad for a sprimmer day.
The quest for home care help for Mom continues. We’re channeling energy and are no longer flailing. Serious steps forward are being made. Fingers are crossed that this will happen.
Not as positive on the hospital bed for Mom. That’s stuck in the doctor’s office limbo. Calling again today to prod their asses.
Flying dreams dominated my sleep worlds. Awakening, I felt vigorous, optimistic, and powerful. Also felt odd that I couldn’t fly. As has happened on other times, I wondered if this was the dream world and the dream was reality. That’s how it felt, like it was so real, and yet, here I am, in another sphere of reality.
“Sailing” by Christopher Cross occupies the morning mental music stream (Trademark sinking). The Neurons’ choice of the 1980 song works well. The song is about getting away to an imaginary or special place. And that’s how it worked in my flying dreams. I would decide where I wanted to go, like, “Look, is that a lake over there?” A turn of my head, a little thought, and I flew over there faster than any falcon. Gives me some dreamstalgia, remembering it. If only life can be so for us, simple, easy, relaxed.
Time to return to manuscript in progress. Be strong, remain positive, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has been ingested and I have liftoff.
Michael Seidel, writer 