Today is Thursday, December 14, 2023, but when I walked outside with the cats this morning, it felt like we’d leaped forward into spring outside. Nothing was in bloom but the air carried spring’s sass with sunshine, a blue-ish sky featuring a bevy of small white and gray clouds that looked like turtles reflecting dawn’s light, and 46 F. Then I sneezed several times like allergies had kicked in.
Celebrated a friend’s seventieth last night with her and other friends. Now retired, she’s a world-renown forensics expert in hair and fur. Egged on by two former work colleagues present, themselves forensics experts, she shared interesting tales with us. Entertaining time was had by all.
I have an unusual song circulating the morning mental music stream (Trademark buried). For reasons which they won’t reveal, “Walk Right In” is playing in my head. This is the 1963 cover by The Rooftop Singers. I had to wiki that. The song was written by Gus Cannon in and recorded by Gus Cannon’s Jug Stompers, a man and group I didn’t know of until I read it today. Mom used to play the song on her record player and sing along. The words are simple:
Walk right in, sit right down Daddy, let your mind roll on Walk right in, sit right down Daddy, let your mind roll on Everybody’s talkin’ ’bout a new way of walkin’ Do you want to lose your mind? Walk right in, sit right down Daddy, let your mind roll on
Walk right in, sit right down Baby, let your hair hang down Walk right in, sit right down Baby, let your hair hang down Everybody’s talkin’ ’bout a new way of walkin’ Do you want to lose your mind? Walk right in, sit right down Baby, let your hair hang down
All my life, though, I wondered, what is the new way of walkin’? I remembered asking Mom and hearing laughter in response, which just vexed the hell out of me. I guess some things will always be a mystery.
I know that Dr Hook covered it later but it’s The Rooftop Singers delivering to the mmms, so I stayed with them.
Stay strong, be positive, lean forward, and enjoy the video. Coffee is in me and driving me to get up and go. Once I’m done in the bathroom, I’m out the door to the writing day. Here’s the music. You have a good one. Cheers
The mid-week has crashed in once again. It’s like it’s on a schedule.
Yeah, Wednesday, December 13, 2023, is here in Ashlandia, where the gravity is average. Blustery winds dominate, sending my floofs back into the house complaining about it. They are not fans of wind. It’s 50 F now but we have the potential to achieve a high of 53 F before the weary sun sends us over to the night.
After reading some news, The Neurons are treating me to “Cry Me A River” as covered by Joe Cocker. He turned the soft song into a blues tinged hard rocker. This video showed a classic savagely energetic Cocker performance.
One of the things which pushed Cocker & “Cry Me A River” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark dumped) was Donald Trump’s text screaming about one of the cases against him (there are four). Which one? Um, let’s see: yes, charges over whether former President Donald Trump can be prosecuted on charges he plotted to overturn the 2020 election results. Trump claimed he has immunity because he was POTUS. A federal judge ruled the case could go forward. Trump said he would ask the federal appeals court in Washington to reverse that outcome.
What special prosecutor Jack Smith decided is to bypass the appeals court, the usual next step in the process, and have the Supreme Court take it up. From Newsweek: ‘Smith asked if “a former President is absolutely immune from federal prosecution for crimes committed while in office or is constitutionally protected from federal prosecution when he has been impeached but not convicted before the criminal proceedings begin.”‘ Sure, get it done, stop wasting time and money, and answer the question about Trump’s immunity claim in the federal election interference case.
But if you know Trump (and how can you not by now?), his number three favorite tactic in court is delaying. (Numbers one and two is lying and verbally attacking and insulting people.)
From Newsweek:
“Crooked Joe Biden’s henchman, Deranged Jack Smith is so obsessed with interfering in the 2024 Presidential Election with the goal of preventing President Trump from retaking the Oval Office, as the President is poised to do, that Smith is willing to try for a Hail Mary by racing to the Supreme Court and attempting to bypass the appellate process,” a spokesperson for Trump’s campaign said in a statement Monday afternoon.
“There is absolutely no reason to rush this Witch Hunt to trial, except to injure President Trump and his 150 million, at least, supporters.”
Trump doesn’t have 150 million supporters. By his actions, he’s come to be at this point. So, yeah, so cry me a river.
Stay positive, be stable and strong, and lean forward toward a better world. I’ve had coffee and am trying to do all these things as well. Here’s some music to take your mind off things. Hope you enjoy it. Cheer
First, it’s a longer post than usual for me. Politics drive it. Let’s get into it.
34 F greeted me in Ashlandia, where the sunshine is bright, and winters are above average. Blue skies, wind, and sunshine followed us into this Tuesday, December 12, 2023. Already 53 F, a high of 55 F is being suggested.
I’m disgusted, again, with political news. My focus now is on Texas. My major concern focuses on the anti-abortion farce in red states, and the bullshit about the issue which they spread. Texas under the GOP often competes with Florida is spreading the most disgusting bullshit. They succeeded this time with the case of Kate Cox. Pregnant, a mother of two and resident of Texas, her physician informed her that her fetus had trisomy 18. She was told her fetus had malformations of the spine, heart, brain and limbs.
What mother wants to hear that? A devastating diagnosis, most trisomy 18 pregnancies end in stillbirths. Infants born alive with this diagnosis endure anguished lives, which are often short and painful.
But those paragons of virtue we know as the Texas GOP knows better than doctors, unintentionally ironic. Remember how Republicans always insisted that ACA, or Obamacare, would have death panels if it was instituted. Yeah, look who insists on death panels now. That’d be you, Republicans. This is their interpretation of ‘right to life’; so long as your right belongs to them, they’ll decide who lives and dies.
Observers outside of the magic conspiracy cone where Republicans often now live expected this. We all know from experience that the right wing loves to project what it does on others. Just read almost anything that Donald Trump, a documented liar now in court for fraud and other crimes, says about lying and fraud. Remember when he said anyone being investigated by the FBI is unworthy of being POTUS. *chuckle*. Now that it’s him, it’s a witch-hunt being conducted by the deep state. The deep state is the GOP’s favorite boogeyman, their reason for anything happening against them.
Kate Cox was also told that if she continued her pregnancy, it posed threats to her health and was at risk of losing her future fertility.
Nonsense, those learned doctors on the Texas Supreme Court said, denying Kate Cox an abortion. She’d, fortunately, felt how the wind was blowing and vacated Texas to get the modern health care needed in a more advanced state than Texas, which would be every blue state.
What pisses me off as much as the stance taken by these cruel Texan frauds is that back when all these harsh anti-abortion bills were passed, those outside of the GOP conspiracy bubble had foreseen the shit that went down in Texas. We were revolted when Texas pretended to care about the mother’s health and exigent circumstances because we knew Texas Republicans were not the flexible, thoughtful, compassionate, and intelligent people their exemption bill needed them to be. And they proved so at the first opportunity.
Soon after the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade last year, horror stories started emerging of women denied medically urgent abortions for pregnancies gone dangerously awry. In response, the anti-abortion movement developed a sort of conspiracy theory to rationalize away the results of their policies.
Abortion rights activists, they argued, were deliberately misconstruing abortion laws, leading doctors to refuse to treat women who obviously qualified for exceptions. “Abortion advocates are spreading the dangerous lie that lifesaving care is not or may not be permitted in these states, leading to provider confusion and poor outcomes for women,” said a report by the anti-abortion Charlotte Lozier Institute. The Catholic conservative Richard Doerflinger accused “pro-abortion groups” of spreading “false and exaggerated claims in order to ‘paralyze’ physicians and discredit the laws.”
Whether this argument stemmed from genuine denial or a cynical desire to mislead the public, a shattering case in Texas shows how absurd it is. Late last month, Kate Cox, a 31-year-old mother of two, learned that her latest, much-wanted pregnancy was doomed because of a severe genetic disorder. If the pregnancy continued, she was likely to have a stillbirth, and if she didn’t, the baby had virtually no chance of surviving long outside the womb.
She’d made several trips to the emergency room for severe cramping and what seemed to be leaking amniotic fluid. Her doctor told her that carrying the pregnancy to term could jeopardize her future fertility, and Cox very much wants more children. So she, her husband and her doctor sued the state, seeking a court order to allow her to terminate her pregnancy in Texas. If the Texas abortion ban had workable medical exceptions, it’s hard to see how they wouldn’t apply to Cox. But it doesn’t, and the state attorney general, Ken Paxton, fought the Cox family and their doctor every step of the way.
Goldberg elaborates on what Kate Cox did chasing the exemption and pursuing the best outcome for her and her fetus, and concludes —
An irony here is that if the State Supreme Court had allowed Cox to end her pregnancy in Texas, it might have benefited hard-line abortion opponents. Were the state to codify clear exemptions for people in extreme medical distress, offering a sliver of mercy to women like Zurawski and Cox, its callous abortion ban might seem slightly more politically palatable. That, after all, is why abortion opponents falsely insist that such clarity already exists.
But right-wing politicians and those who support them would rather inflict unimaginable suffering on women than relax the tiniest bit of control over their medical decisions. I asked Duane if any anti-abortion groups had filed amicus briefs on Cox’s behalf. I wasn’t surprised that the answer was no.
Exactly.
In a tangent, I remember being horrified by what Donald J Trump declared when running for POTUS in 2016. There were some who suggested that he’d be different if he won because the office changed the person in it.
They were fucking wrong. All of us with eyes could clearly see what he would be. We were right, and we’re right now: his chuckling, aw-shucks comments about only be a dictator on the first day in office is total bullshit. That’s exactly what he wants.
By the way, in other Texas political news, Republicans have been battling to limit what moderators can do on Reddit. They passed HB20 in 2022. From CNN/Business:
Texas officials passed HB 20 last year amid allegations that tech platforms unfairly censor conservative speech. Social media companies have widely denied the claims, but the Texas law imposes sweeping obligations on platforms, prohibiting them from moving to “block, ban, remove, deplatform, demonetize, de-boost, restrict, deny equal access or visibility to, or otherwise discriminate against expression.”
Mainstream legal experts have said if HB 20 survives legal challenge, tech companies would be forced to host spam, hate speech, pornography and other legal-but-problematic material on their platforms in order to comply with the text of the law. It could also serve as a blueprint for other states. More broadly, they have said, letting the government force private parties to host speech would reverse decades of First Amendment precedent, which has held that the government may not compel private speech.
Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton celebrated the court ruling in a tweet, saying: “I just secured a MASSIVE VICTORY for the Constitution & Free Speech in fed court: #BigTech CANNOT censor the political voices of ANY Texan!”
Let’s pause to savor Paxton’s celebration for the Constitution and Free Speech for a few moments.
More evident of GOP hypocrisy and double standards, to me.
I’ve had three songs taking turns in the morning mental music stream (Trademark stolen by the deep state). First up was, “I’ll Do Anything” from the musical Oliver! No audit trail showed up to inform me why that song was in the stream.
The next came up in parallel to feeding the cats and was less of a surprise, as it was “My Floof” based on the song, “My Girl”, written by Smoky Robinson and Ronald White, and originally performed by The Temptations back in 1965. “My Floof” was performed by me and the Flooftations in my sunlit kitchen. Sorry, no videos exist.
Finally, though, Jackson Browne was singing “Doctor, My Eyes” from 1972, when I was in high school. The Neurons explained, the reason for this song’s presence in the morning mental music stream is simple and drawn right from the lyrics:
Doctor, my eyes have seen the years And the slow parade of fears without crying Now I want to understand I have done all that I could To see the evil and the good without hiding You must help me if you can
Alright, I’ve vented enough. Stay positive, be strong, and lean forward. Coffee is being served, and I shall partake. Have the best day you can muster. Here’s the music. Cheers
After a nocturnal thimble of rain, waking up to 41 F was a welcome change from the cold-morning streak that’s been going on in Ashlandia, where the restaurants are mostly above average.
Today it’s Monday — again — December 11, 2023, for the first time. 48 F now, we’re gonna clock 53 F, the weather prophets reassure us. Sunshine flutters between weak wings and strong glows, pushing efforts out around a flotilla of mixed media clouds and shadowed blue skies.
My theme song is “I Am, I Said”, by Neil Diamond. To be fair, I always thought the song was honest but a little over-the-top. As soon as I heard it, waaayyy back when I was a young adult, I understand what he was singing about. But, yes, some of the lines made me wince. It was one of those which invited The Neurons to plug it into the morning mental music stream (Trademark constrained).
My fault, though. I was walking around the house, looking for my phone, exasperated with myself for misplacing it. As I stopped and forced myself to recall the sequence of last using my phone — checking for a text from Mom and my sisters this morning — I remembered, ah, office, ah, black recliner. And, lo, there the black phone was in the black chair, left there when I jumped up to see what the floof monkeys were screeching at each other about in the other room.
“Of course, in the chair,” I mumbled to myself as I picked it up, checked the charge and confirmed, no texts. Just like that, The Neurons had Neil singing, “I am, I said, to no one there, and no one heard at all, not even the chair.” As the song kept going with only a brief respite filled by “Fifty Ways to Feed Your Floofy” (based on Paul Simon’s song), I felt a need to share Neil’s musical reflections with everyone else and power it out of my head. You’re welcome.
Stay positive, be strong, and lean forward. I’m working on doing the same and may well succeed if I have enough coffee in me. I have begun. Here’s Neil. Cheers
I was in my primary coffee shop yesterday, writing away in a corner and deeply involved with what I was doing. Even with that true, I’d followed who arrived and left, where they were and what they were doing. It was a habit or talent I’d developed while young. It’d become bolstered first by military counter-terrorist training and situational awareness, and then fostered more as I leaned in to writing fiction and honed my observational skills.
Left was a man who seemed about five years older than me, putting him in his early seventies. He was a regular at both of my coffee haunts. Striking me as a lonely person, I’d witnessed him start conversations with others. When I overheard them, the topic was usually novels he’d read or novels the other was reading.
Rising from the chair he’d settled into, he approached the early twentyish woman on my right. Another regular but not as frequent as me, she was familiar to me. I’d seen the other man talk to her a few times. He greeted her as a friend and she reacted in kind. They began talking about books and his recent visit to a bookstore.
The coffee house manager went to them. I didn’t hear what was being said, but it ended with her escorting him out. After he was gone, I saw the shift lead go talk to the manager. Again, nothing was heard. The shift lead returned to her spot behind the counter, and then the manager approached the young woman the man had been talking with.
After giving her name and explaining her position, the manager asked, “Do you know that man?”
“No, not really. He’s spoken to me before.”
“Well, I came over because we’ve had complaints about men approaching young women such as yourself without being invited. Some feel threatened and believe that the man was trying to groom them or other young women, so we felt we needed to act.”
The woman thanked her and the manager went away.
I sat, reflecting on all sides of this, wondering exactly what was true and real, respecting the coffee shop’s position but understanding the man’s loneliness. Yet, I didn’t know if he was grooming. I don’t know his intentions. And then, there are other men who may have approached young females to groom them. It can be an insidious world.
I mentioned it all to my wife, who reminded me, “Woman are often socialized to be friendly when a man approaches. It’s hard for them to say no to them or rebuff them. That’s just how we’re still taught through movies and television shows, and the things we see. Men are in power and are to be respected is what we’re taught, and it’s hard to break the habits that come from that training.
I understand that, too, and thought of my own position when I go into the coffee shop to write. I’m friendly with staff but not other customers. While I want to be friendly with others, my natural inclination, I decided that I need to not be friendly with other regulars; I’m there to write, and the time that I’ve carved out for that is precious. Despite observing so many who seem desperate or hungry for social interations, I do so with regret but remain firm about it.
We’ve followed long and tortured paths to come to these moments of who we are.
Another foggy and sunny Oregon aunter day in Ashlandia, where the people are liberal. Well, mostly. It’s complicated. Of course. Everything is complicated in the information age in the modern United States.
It’s Saturday, December 9, 2023. We’re rolling through the upper thirties to low forties, depending upon which part of town you’re in, and whether it’s sunny there. My home’s overnight low was 28 F. The cats stayed in. Didn’t even complain about it. Just got themselves cosy and slept the night away, except for litter box breaks and kibble bowl visits. Reminds me, I need to clean the litter box and refill the kibble bowls.
Our high today will crest the mid 50s F.
Can’t stomach the news today. I start reading about Ken Paxton, AG of Texas and his efforts to stop a woman’s abortion and just want to puke. So much is wrapped up and on full display about Republican ‘values’. Doctors are behind the medically recommended abortion; Republicans are pushing their ‘religious beliefs’ to stop it, this in a country which is purported to advance freedom from religion. This s the death panel that they used to threaten would happen under ACA, the ones which never did happen. It’s typical of Republicans to project this way.
Remember, please, this is the party of small government. Limited government. Government that shouldn’t be in people’s bedroom. Right. Sure. That’s all more GOP smoke. Nothing they do is really about small government; it’s about control and power.
Like the Zieglers of Florida. They project in the same way. She, Bridget, is busy with Moms for Liberty, banning books, worrying about what these books she wants banned will do to children’s morality. In parallel to this bullshit, this morally upright Republican christian was having an affair with a woman. Actually part of a three-way with the woman and her husband. Her business, yes, except her business is directly contradictory to her political stands, causes, and ‘principles’. By the way, show me where in the bible they extol it says threeways are okay. Christ on a penny, this is who christians look up to for leadership?
All this exploded onto news pages because her husband, Christian Ziegler, is accused of raping the woman in the three-way. He is of course, the GOP party leader. Makes perfect sense. While innocent until proven guilty of the rape, this paragon of Republican virtue does admit to the threesome. There is video but that means little to the GOP; all that video of Jan 6, and Republicans claim those folks threatening their elected officials, breaking into our capitol building, smearing feces on the walls, threatening the police, and stealing things are just tourists. Or they’re really antifa or BLM. Anyone except Republicans.
See why I want to puke after perusing the news?
For the theme music, The Neurons have launched “War” with “Low Rider” from 1975 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark torpedoed). I honestly searched for why they plugged in this funk tune. I enjoy the song and haven’t heard it in a while. But why, after eating oatmeal with nuts and cranberries, drinking some coffee, feeding the cats, and reading the news, is that song going on? I can’t see a direct correlation.
Could have something to do with a general mood of mine, an overstretching sense of optimism that runs contrary to so much evidence. The mood, when I pause to feel through it, takes me back to when I was young and just starting out, and that is where this song was released. Maybe my mind is tuning into the radio of my youth. I can see myself in my old little ’68 Camaro, driving home from work in the Command Post in Fairborn, Ohio, back home to my girlfriend, who become my wife later that year. Nice scene to remember.
Be strong and positive, and lean waaayyy forward, right? I’ve had some coffee and I’m eager to tackle some matters that need tackling. Here’s the video. Cheers
It’s December 8, 2023, Friday. 37 F outside in Ashlandia, where the women are lovely and the men don’t brood, up from 29 F. We were encased in a gothic novel cover a few hours ago; fog, mist, and diminished gray light set a brooding stage of mysterious shadows and stifled sounds. We brought on the fireplace to help the furnace with the day’s early cold moisture, and it was cozyrama.
Our valley’s high will be 46 F. Snow flurries are in today’s weather blend.
Sis is going home from her operation and all was a success. That encouraged The Neurons to light up the morning mental music stream (Trademark bamboozled) with Ten Years After at Woodstock with “Going Home”. It’s a powerful old-time rocker for an early Friday morning before I’d had coffee and my mind segued to their song, “I’d Love to Change the World”. When I used it back in 2019, I wrote,
Ten Years After released “I’d Love to Change the World” in 1971 as a response to the violence, protests, emerging counter-culture, resistant establishment, and war. Gosh, does any of that have any echos in today’s world? Naw, probably just me.
Like most of TYA’s offerings, the song features some powerful Alvin Lee guitar work, which is always good to hear. Beyond the rock essence of guitar and dream, these lyrics, and how they’re presented in the song, plaintive, accepting, and reflective, spoke to me as a fifteen-year-old when the song came out, but still talks to me as a sixty-three-year-old.
I’d love to change the world
But I don’t know what to do.
So I’ll leave it up to you.
I’ll leave that up there, adding that the other line resonating with me is, “Tax the rich, feed the poor, till there are no rich no more.” Guess I’m getting more revolutionary as I age.
Stay positive, fight injustice, remain strong, help others, and lean forward. Give me more coffee and then I’ll do the same. Here’s the video. Gotta go; cat wants in. Rock on.
It’s Thursday, Dec 7, 2023. I looked out. Rain clouds parted. My eyes drank in sunshine. Alexa said it was 37 F out but would reach 44 F. My weather system already said it was 43 F.
The clouds close. Rain falls. It’s aunter (a variation of autumn and winter) in Ashlandia, where the weather can be vexing, just as it happens in many world regions.
December 7. No need to think much about that date. Can’t say that all in the US remember December 7 and the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor and the Pacific Fleet, a step which pulled the US formally into WW II. Oh, people will pretend to remember, doing little ceremonies to solemnly recall history and what happened. I can’t guess what people remember of WW II in the US, not when they throw words around like fascism and socialism with little understanding of what they mean and what they are, not when NAZIs and white supremacy is openly embraced with greater frequency by one of our political parties and its leader, not when that leader openly talks about being a dictator. How can his supporters remember their history lessons when he calls for exterminating his political opponents and applauds dictators as smart, good people?
After all, these are the ones who declare us a Christian nation and fight against the separation of church and state. This was supposed to be a nation of freedom and equality. No, it was not born that way; women had few rights and were generally second-class citizens. For blacks, it was worse, as they lived as slaves and were horribly mistreated. Indians received even nastier treatment as their people were killed and their land was stolen, and immigrants from multiple places were pilloried, stripped of rights, and treated as if they were not human. No, it was not a pretty beginning, and there’s still a lot of shit going on. Witness how often police kill with impunity, and worse, how often those killed are Blacks. Witness how people trying to escape persecution in other countries are treated. Witness how many right-wingers treat LGBTQ+ citizens as undeserving of rights and security as fellow citizens, and how eagerly they throw people in prison.
But we were trying as a nation, making some progress, sometimes sliding backwards, but mostly managing to claw forward. Now the GOP and its wannabe dictator, Donald Trump, are striving to drag the country backward, away from freedom and equality no matter religion, sex, or the color of your skin, to a land of warped christianity, twisted history, and perverse values. Trump supporters — the MAGA — hungrily embrace his efforts, gleefully spreading lies and denying history, showing aggressive willingness to undermine and dismantle democracy regardless of the means, regardless of what the US Constitution and Bill of Rights might say, or the rule of law. “There’s no one like you,” I think of them, but I know there are millions like them, and millions more around the world.
No wonder The Neurons dragged “No One Like You” by the Scorpions into the morning mental music stream (Trademark imperiled). “There’s no one like you,” they sing in the song. I could hear them singing that about Trump in a disparaging way. No one like you, lying and cheating, misleading and whining, squealing with hate against justice, opponents, and anyone who is different than him, claiming everyone is being mean to him. No one like you, MAGA supporters, bleating about how great Trump is, ignoring all the disasters and failures which pepper his existence, the rapes he’s been accused of, his affairs, or his constant lying. Except there are others emulating Trump in DeSantis, Abbott, the ‘Moms for Liberty’. There are GOP legislators around the nation eagerly banning books, dismantling the education system, disenfranchising voters. There are too many like those close minded, repressive individuals.
Sunshine breaks out but rain is falling. Traffic streams by, throwing up small wakes. A long, thick, wide black cloud is coming over the northern mountains, darkening the land below it.
I didn’t mean to get on to this bandwagon today, but after the GOP ‘debates’ last night, my irritation was renewed.
Be strong, stay positive, and lean forward. The coffee is going down nicely. Think I’ll have more. Here’s the music. Cheers
It was a grim task set before me. I, not a fan of tasks and less enamored of those tasks of the grim variety, didn’t relish taking it up. But duty, right.
All were assembled around the table. Leaning forward so they could see me, looking around, I loudly said, “I have a question for you.” I waited for silence, which came fast and cast another check on their attention; all were regarding me. “Do you wear socks in the shower?” I asked.
Staring followed, then questions. What, what are you talking about, and say that again was heard among the ten facing me, along with some sputtering, uncertain laughing.
“Do you wear socks in the shower?” I repeated.
“No,” several responded, and then a few inquired, “Why are you asking that?”
“Well, my wife read an article about bizarre things people from different states do, and she read that people in Oregon like to shower with their socks on. Then she asked me, ‘Have you ever heard of this?’ No, I told her. She said, ‘I’ve never showered with my socks on, but I don’t shower.’ I told her, ‘I shower, but I don’t wear my socks.'” Then we talked more and realized, maybe people do this but don’t talk about it because it’s a normal routine for them, so they see no need to speak about it. So, I said that I’d ask you guys, my beer group.”
“No,” all chorused, fully laughing now. “None of us wear our socks in the shower.”
Satisfied that the grim task was done, I sat back and sampled my ale. It was very good.
It’s foggy in Ashlandia again. Fog closed in on our fair town, where the mountains are low and the valley is narrow, yesterday afternoon. The for went away for the night and returned this morning, along with a doughnut sprinkle of rain that’s expected to keep up intermittently for the day. It’s all part of the season called aunter, which falls in the last third of fall, bringing dampness, dark days, and cold air, and winter, when the snow is summoned.
But look out. It’s 45 F now but we’re gonna get warmer, even broaching the sixties, maybe, they say, maybe getting as warm as 66F. Not bad for a aunter day.
This is Wednesday, December 26, 2023.
I was in a Dollar Store with my wife yesterday. She’s planning a holiday gift for her exercise class instructor. My spouse has been going to this class since 2005. The instructor is 78 and has been telling people what to do to music since the early 1980s. She’s quite popular. My wife became friends with her over exercising and books. My wife and two others, who were then known as the Woo-Woo girls, started talking about books they were reading as they warmed up before class. Soon the instructor joined, and then a few others, giving rise to the Ladies’ Most Excellent Book Club, which became the book club. They limit it by vote to ten people, and they’re serious readers. We’ll be going to the instructors’ house for a traditional Swedish smorgasborg later this month.
Anyway, as part of the holidays, my wife has started a new tradition of collecting money and signing a card for the instructor. The instructor rarely keeps the money, either donating it to families who need it, or to local causes with the food bank. My wife likes going to the Dollar Store for supplies. It might be a Dollar Tree store; I don’t pay attention. I know they’re no longer a store where things are a dollar or less. But yesterday surprised me.
The dollar store has restaurant and big box store gift cards, along with iTunes gift cards. Many were for $25 or $50. I didn’t bother asking the busy staff it the cards sold for a dollar. They’ve probably heard that joke, and nothing on that end cap display said, “Olive Garden $50 Gift Card: One Dollar”.
It’s just more evolution for the dollar store trio who combined into one business entity a few years ago. I remember first going to one of them thirty years ago after moving back to the United States. I was like, everything in the store is for sale for a dollar? Why, yes, that was exactly the premise: a dollar or less. Being in the military, not getting paid much, and liking a bargain, we went frequently to the Dollar Tree or Dollar Store to get household cleaning supplies, notebooks and paper supplies — including greeting cards — and whatever little bargains we found.
Sad that the stores have changed their philosophy, but that’s how progress works. I guess. At least we’ll someday be able to tell future generations that there used to businesses which sold things for a dollar. They’ll probably ask us, “What’s a dollar?”
An apartment building neighbors us not too far away. With the leaves out of the trees, I can see some of their upper windows from my backyard. Yesterday, I saw a cat in one of the windows. It’s not the first cat I’ve seen in the building, so it’s not that remarkable. This was a fine looking cat, young and slender-appearing, sitting erect as a statue in that graceful cat manner we so often see. White with calico spots, it was intently watching me. I wondered if the cat was lonely and I hoped that it was’t.
That tiny reflection invited The Neurons to offer a song to the mental music stream, where it continues in the morning mental music stream (Trademark nutty). “Only the Lonely” by The Motels, not to be confused with “Only the Lonely” by Roy Orbison, came out in 1982. So it’s for that cat and the other floofs alone and watching that this song is offered as Wednesday’s theme music.
Stay pos and strong, and lean in. Coffee has arrived at the brain center, exciting The Neurons. Here we go, off to start the day. And here’s the music. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 