Category: memories

Old Year’s Day Theme Music

Mood: chillaxing

This is it: Old Year’s Day 2023. 2024 begins tomorrow. Despite that big event, it’s chilly, wet, and foggy this morning in Ashlandia, where coffee feels like a medical necessity to get the day started. Maybe that’s just me. Don’t know. I’m in the house and not going out until I’ve have enough coffee to get un-naked. It’s a public kindness thing.

41 F now around my house while the weather masters say it’s 48 F elsewhere in town with a 53 degree high on the radar. This might have been a record warm winter month for us.

2023 was a solid year personally. I wrote a novel and revised it multiple times, and the process goes on. My family members have endured health issues, and it’s not pleasant to be a spectator to that, but they continue pulling through. My wife continues managing her health matters, and the cats are doing well.

I’m not happy with my country. While the economy is doing well, the political and cultural divide yawns wider. Social progress regarding equality and justice slid backward in many ways. Under the guise of ‘freedom’, our education system stays under attack by conservatives limiting what is taught and what can people can read, which is basically the opposite of freedom. I won’t go into the multilple failures I see in the GOP with their continuing support of Trump no matter what, except to say it’s disappointing and a challenge to all branches of government.

Gun violence remains prevalent and demoralizing in the US as the nation collectively refuses to do anything except T&P, which does nothing to reduce violence, curtail the killing, or help the victims. It’s a pathetic and inept response to hear of a these mass shootings and learn that ‘leaders’ offer their thoughts and prayers. How many years of thoughts and prayers has it been? How many more will come before anything beyond thoughts and prayers are offered? As my friend Jill would eloquently say, GRRRRRR.

As for the rest of the world, I’m disappointed that wars continue and threaten to expand to encompass more of the world, just as we were experiencing a century ago.

The Neurons fed “Time Has Come Today” by the Chamber Brothers out of 1968 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark delayed). Just thinking about time, for some reason (sure, that’s a smidget of snark, which is called smark). I posted it before, back in December, 2017, and that point was much the same: thinking about time (“Time!”) and there it is in my head.

Many people think of these song getting stuck in your head as an earworm. I’ve read that about 96% of people experience an earworm once a month or more. I seem to experience one everyday. Studies say that people who hold music as important to them experience earworms more frequently. I’ve never addressed how important music is to me, but Mom was always playing music, and it became a habit for me. They rarely bother me, these earworms, although every once in a while, a song burrows in and makes itself comfortable that does irritate me. “Yummy, Yummy, Yummy,” is one of those songs which comes to mind.

Stay pos, refresh yourself for the tilt against another year, be strong, and lean forward. Hey, ho, let’s go. Here’s the music. Happy Old Year’s Day. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: blinky

It’s Tuesday, December 26, 2023. 39 F outside, it’s almost Christmas cold. Clouds and sunshine are rotating through influences. One moment, it’s a bright shiny day and you stand at the window and stare out at blue. Not pretty out there, a little sodden, with faded grasses and bare trees except for the conifers. Then clouds swing back in, dulling it all more in its appearance, and quickly dropping a chill on the space. High will be 54 F. Precipitation isn’t predicted.

Most of the holidays are past but now the herd wheels toward the largest, most universally regarded holiday: New Year. People plan a party, a celebration to last throughout the year. Or they seek a humble day of new beginnings. Resolutions are made, dreams and hopes addressed again, and vows are given, sometimes privately, about how the next year will be different. Thoughts turn to everything pending, and the things on the world agenda, and how they might unfold. Sighs are released like the wind whispering with the first notes of an incoming storm.

The cats stayed in and curled up, sweet as cats can be, and less distrustful and threatening to one another.

Our Christmas was low key. Just my wife and I at home. Very relaxing and enjoyable for me. I mostly read and stayed off net most of the day. Did watch parts of two football games. Also watched “Hogfather” because she said she’d never seen it. We had croissants and fruit for breakfast. I made our roasted root veggies soup in the afternoon and we ate about five. I also texted with little sister #2 several times, tracking activities and the state of things.

Heard from sis, though, that another sister and her hubby’s COVID is terrible and that it has been passed on to two other family members.

Musically, I was thinking about change, and The Neurons offered up David Bowie and “Modern Love” from 1983 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark traded). I thought, why that? Tracing back over my thought pattern, I recognized that I’d used but things don’t really change. Bowie incorporates that: “I catch the paper boy but things don’t really change. I’m standing in the wind.” I always thought the last line there was about standing in the winds of change, but that’s just me.

Stay pos, test neg, be strong, and move forward. The coffee fuel is being loaded; countdown has begun. In three…two…

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: spirited

T’was the day before Christmas and all across the land

few people were thinking that everything was grand

those with money to spend had brought presents to no end

while those lacking food and shelter did what they could do

Yes, today is Sunday, December 24, 2023, the day before Christmas in the US. Light rain intermittently douses us in wintery 43 F temps under a dystopian dim sun stuck behind the clouds. It’s today’s high, already achieved, so we have that going for us in Ashlandia, where the Christmas decorations are average and the Kwanza and Hannukah celebrations are muted.

I found myself with the Red Hot Chili Pepper’s 2006 cover of Stevie Wonder’s “Higher Ground” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark gifted). Those first lyrics that include soldiers keep on warrin’ was in my mind during this holiday month, when so many people talk about peace on Earth and goodwill toward man while doing the opposite so often. Few walk the talk. They’re just depressin’ damn people, especially the faux christians who have emerged.

Let’s just call them faustians, which is really similiar to faustian, isn’t it? Interesting; those faustians (faux christians) focus on themselves, complaining about how overlooked and put upon they are, which, in their words, is terrible because they have the best religion and god. Meanwhile, faustian is an adjective to describe things often done for present gain without any thought about the future, which is exactly what the faustians (faux christians) do; they want to go back to some faux good ol’ days when women knew their place and it was in the house, and there were only two genders and one sexual orientation – male on female – and men were in charge, and all bad things like racism, bigotry, and discrimination were all swept into places where it couldn’t be seen. They didn’t want to hear about women being raped (because they probably deserved it anyway, in their minds, because of how they dressed or acted). Nor did they want to know about people born with a mix of gene sets that creates a spectrum of true and viable genders. God only created two genders, darn it, and science is bad because it teaches otherwise, so don’t trust it.

Factories were in America and all things were made in America, because it was and is and always will be the greatest nation in the world (because, god), and the houses were all the same clean cottages behind fine white picket fences, except for the wealthy but noble and pious people who lived in mansions on the hill, away from the riff raff. To achieve their goals, faustians will lie and pretend their leaders are wonderful people, overlooking or even rationalizing their crimes, and go to war to make peace, because they believe in god, and that makes everything that they do okay. Diversity is not good in the faustian world. Nor is critical thinking.

Anyway, that’s why I’m playing “Higher Ground”.

Stay pos, be strong, and keep leaning forward toward a higher ground. Coffee drinking is underway. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: not fragile

Another rotation, and here we sit, on a Saturday, on 12 – 23 – 23.

27 F outside, fog obfuscates the scenes past the windows. White has been sketched over the plants as frost settled in last night and isn’t willing to leave. Sunlight is creeping in, casting a phantom aura acoss the optics. No precipitation is expected today, though clouds will be clearing out as the sun carries us to a high of 49 F.

The floofs have been remaining inside during this cold turn, deciding that maybe they’re not as wild as they’ve been claiming in social media. Both still attempted going out and Papi became insistent as Trump claiming to be the greatest, so out he went. In above seven minutes later (because Papi came to his senses, unlike Trump), he’s The Neurons’ inspiration for today’s music.

When I cracked opened the portal to his freedom, I told Papi, “Okay, now you’re on the loose. Enjoy it, dummy. You’ll be back.”

As noted, he was quickly back. Meanwhile The Neurons ended up posting “On the Loose” in my morning mental music stream (Trademark suspicious). I remembered the song but nada else. Turning to the net, I learned that it was by a Canadian band called Saga. Released in 1981, this was their biggest hit in the US. I admit that I only know “On the Loose” from radio play, and haven’t heard any of the rest of their music, but they keep rocking, having released 20 albums, most recenty in 2021.

Stay positive, test negative, be strong, and lean forward. Time for coffee. Here’s the music. See you in the pixels. Cheers

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Friday’s Wandering Thought

Since retiring from the military in the 1990s, I’ve had health insurance through various Tricare programs, which replaced CHAMPUS. Most recently, my coverage was mandated to be Tricare for Life. It worked well. Of course, to continue using TFL, I was required to sign up for and start paying for Medicare once I became 65 years of age, which happened two years ago. This is a vein of the product called ‘Tricare for Life Medicare’.

I was recently hit with a bill for lab work done earlier this year. The lab bill was $300 and I had to pay $108 of that.

That surprised me. Investigating my benefits, I found that Medicare paid part. I thought TFL would cover the rest, but no; Tricare for Life Medicare doesn’t cover preventative lab work, only such work for life-threatening issues.

After a life of being pushed to be proactive and take preventative measures to find and treat health conditions in early stages, it seems like an odd turn of coverage. Makes me re-think what they were thinking when they called the program ‘Tricare for Life’.

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: weathering

Been under the weather for the last five days but green tea, napping, and patience has it feel like it’s ending. Time, you know, will reveal if that’s true. Wasn’t too much of a sickness, you know, just some energy-depleting, momentum robbing thing lurking in my guts, drumming in my head, and burning out my eyes. Through it all, though, I’ve had positive if frenzied dreams.

Today is 12/22/23. It’s the Friday before Christmas and all through the house, everything’s about as usual. Cats sleeping, Papi on the sofa, Tucker under the dining room table. They look sweet when they sleep like that, and they are sweet boys, although they’re a little emotionally damaged from whatever they endured before arriving at our door.

The heat is on — so is the fireplace — because it’s cold outside, baby. Was 33 F and foggy; now it’s 37, foggy, and rainy. Ain’t no sunshine taking up space in the sky.

My wife has been baking and baking. She admits that she became a little carried away with her intentions but the kitchen is at last still, the baked goods prepared as gifts except for the ones she took with her to exercise class to dole out.

As for the news —

Yeah. We know. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Weird song stuck in the morning mental music stream (Trademark deflated). Song by The Turtles, “She’d Rather Be With Me”, released when I was eleven bloody years old, was thrown into the mmms as I emptied the dishwasher and cleaned the kitchen. The giggling Neurons wouldn’t say why they put that song in, seemingly amused that I even asked. One sputtered, “You should know,” and they all guffawed and covered their mouths like they were all in on a joke that I should know. Damn Neurons.

This was another song learned through the 1960s routine of someone playing it on a record at home (the older sis is the culprit today) and hearing it repeatedly on TV and the radio. The video, in fact, comes to us from The Ed Sullivan Show.

Stay positive, test negative, be strong, and take care of yourself. The holidays are almost over. For some of you, it’s a happy time, for others, we endure. Off to get coffee. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: sleepy

Good afternoon from Ashlandia. Sunny and 56 F, this Thursday afternoon is muy different from our launching point. Starting at 35 F, fog descended on us, doing a suburb turn at shutting down the world to wandering car lights and noises behind a curtain.

So, still no snow. A friend who resides above Mt Ashland, which is our local ski resort, told us yesterday there was little snow and the morning temperature was 40 F. Snow isn’t in the immediate future. Meawhile, water is on our mind. The town is finally getting around to building a new water treatment plant. They’ve been talking about this for years. In the time where they wallied around it, the price has gone up; five years ago, the intended size was cut to reduce costs, and the price has has double, to about 70 mill. To pay for it requires our water prices to increase by 10% each year for the next six years. That’s on top of an average water bill which is the third highest in Oregon at 61.71 a month. Look at it compares to our neighbors, Medford (32.13), Phoenix (45.97) and Talent (47.86).

Happy solstice as well, as this is December 21, 2023. We used to celebrate the winter solstice with company, fires, drink, cake, soups, salads, and bread. Then, come COVID, we shut down and haven’t picked it back up.

Our morning was spent on grocery shopping as we diced with traffic and plied the cement river called I-5 up the highway to Medford. Costco was hellabusy while Trader Joe’s was casual, and Target was busy but tired. After those stops, we paused at a restaurant to scarf down food like we were starving cats and then headed back home, a nap, and more errands. Now we pick up the remains of the day.

Today’s music is Billy Idol’s rockabilly cover of “To Be A Lover” out of 1986. The Neurons stuck it into the morning mental music stream (Trademark rockin’) after my wife’s comment about something elicted “Have mercy,” as my response. Hearing that, The Neurons ran with it and the song was soon busy in my head. I’d never seen any video of it until now, and watching today, I laughed, remembering Idol’s sneering attempts to lather everything with sexual energy. So 1980s.

Stay pos, be strong, and enjoy your solstice whether it’s summer or winter.

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: prissy

December 20, 2023 is a Wednesday and carries the weight of spring. Confused by the signals the weather is giving, some flowers are blooming. We surfed a night of smooth rain, overnight lows in the mid 40s F. Our high today will bubble into the mid 50s. Casual clouds, thin and stretched, barely mask the blue sky. The cats are struggling to adjust, shedding fur after gaining their winter coats and now finding they don’t need them. Great clumps are left wherever they pause to sleep or wash.

Please, though, give us snow on the mountains. Please. It’s needed.

I surfed the news but left it after a short visit. Not depressing so much as it’s meh. We’re in a waiting stage for some many outcomes and perpetually checking and reviewing developments, breaking news, new revelations of old news and prognostications about what will happen has become tedious. I’m ravenous for some sense of an ending.

Musically, first I had “Too Marvelous for Words” whirling around the morning mental music stream (Trademark pummeled). It’s been performed by a long list of crooners but Mom often played Frank Sinatra’s cover while cleaning around the house. Released in 1956, the year of my birth, it’s drummed into my musical psyche. I have no idea why The Neurons voted it into my mind this morning.

But before it became too comfortable, a song inspired by the floofs was brought into the mmms. Released in 1972, “Children of the Revolution” by T. Rex had Elton John and Ringo Starr playing as part of the lineup. Although I enjoyed it, it went out of head until I heard the Violent Femmes version of it. A friend was colossal Femfan, and was playing the song in her car one day when we went to lunch together in Palo Alto. I asked if she knew the song’s origins, and then gleefully told the tale. I’d only heard it after my cousin, just returned from the UK where his father had been stationed with the USAF, played it.

How did the floofs play into this memory? I’d been teasing them, trying to trick them by pretending they weren’t being fed. They weren’t fooled, which triggered me singing, “You won’t fool the kitties of the revolution.”

Stay pos, be cool, remain strong, and leeeaaannn forward. Coffee has already touched my lips. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: smooth

Good foggy morning to you, and a happy Sunday. Today is December 17, 2023. Just two weeks in the year, so if you’re pursuing any resolutions from 2023, time to start wrapping them up. Many stores have the paper for it on sale now.

36 F around my house now, although there are reports it’s 47 F in other realms of Ashland. We’re not seeing much sun and getting less heat with the face full of fog we get when looking up.

The dancing flash mob on the bricks was fun yesterday. First, I need to correct their name; used to be the Broadway Dancers, but when they realized they were all over 60, they changed the troop’s title to the Broadway Boomers. They did two songs for us, “All I Want For Christmas Is You” (featured in Love Actually) and “Razzle Dazzle” from the musical, Chicago. Weather was swell for it, about 55 and brightly sunny.

Then in the evening, it was off to the Swedish Smorgasbord with friends. Excellent food, sensational Swedish gloog, wonderful people and delightful conversations. No politics heard. My friends’ house is so them. I’ve been there several times and it’s always neat and tidy. Family photos abound, which is expected, as family has always been priority one for them. Their lives in photos were on display from when these two started as a couple all the way through to their current status as great grandparents.

Today my wife is off to an early book club holiday party. Then they’re all going to the Camelot Theater to see The Wizard of Oz. I’m meeting here there at 2 PM to attend the play. Then we’ll likely eat out somewhere.

I have “Smokin’ In the Boys Room” by Brownsville Station in the morning mental music stream (Trademark projected). The song got there yesterday and has hung around after I saw a teenage boy walking down the street smoking a cigarette. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone so young smoking a cigarette in over twenty years. Clean cut, blonde, tall, he definitely seemed like a teenager — didn’t even look like he shaved yet — he strode down the sidewalk along Ashland Street, taking drags and letting out streams of smoke like a practiced sailor.

The scene sent my mind down all kinds of avenue of thought. On one of them, The Neurons caught on about memories of guys smoking in the school restrooms, and voila, they cranked up “Smokin’ in the Boys Room”, treating me to the Station’s version, which came out in 1973, when I was in high school, along with the later Mötley Crüe edition. I’ll include both here.

Stay pos, be strong and mellow, and lean forward. Coffee is being consumed on my end, delighting my taste buds with the bitter warmth, ushing life into me brain. Here’s the video. Cheers

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A Dino Ferrari Dream

Young, probably in my twenties in this dream, I was outside with my wife and some friends. Sunshine bathed us in what felt like a warm, beautiful day.

An unknown and unseen man was telling me that he had a car for me. Excitement growing, I laughed and joked about what kind of car this guy was giving me when I looked across the way and saw the front end and passenger compartment of a red Dino Ferrari 246 GTS.

Gasping, I asked, “Is that the car?”

See, the Dino 246 (pictured in photos) was released in 1969. I was thirteen and had discovered sports car and Formula 1 racing. When the car came out, I found it stunning. Even better, a few years later, the 246 GTS was released. This was a targa version of the same car. I’m embarrassed to admit how much I studied and drooled over photos of this car. Eventually, a plastic model was purchased and put together, and the model found space on my bedroom shelves.

But the unseen man said, “No, that’s not it.”

Disappointment staggered me. Then he indicated a black 246 GTS sitting elsewhere. “That’s your car.”

Ecstasy fluttered through me as I goggled at the gleaming black gem of machinery. The man was explaining, “It’s not a 246, but an Evo.” Even as he spoke, I saw the flares that marked the Evo. Evos privately reworked Dinos with upgraded engines and mechanical gear, and not a targa, but a fixed top.

I couldn’t believe that this beautiful car was to be mine. I asked about it a dozen different ways and the man repeatedly assured me, “That’s your car.” Most of the rest of the dream was spent riding around in the car with my wife, showing it off to people and explaining what it was.

But then came a moment when I’d parked the car and found a man with a petrol hose in his hand standing by it. Going to him, I questioned him and discovered that he planned to dose the car with gasoline and set it on fire. I firmly told him, “You are not setting my car on fire.” My voice and words were enough to send him hustling and stumbling away. I then had to explain to others who came up what had transpired as the man with the hose watched from a distance. Seeing him watching, I thought, I’m taking my car and leaving.

Dream end.

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