Category: memories

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: caustic

Today is Friday, August 25, 2023, in Ashlandia, where the smoke is thick and the air is cool.

Had to take my car in and drop it off. 1. Great to have a break in routines and tedium. 2. Hated to have a break in my routines. 3. It felt early out there.

In the car shop were posters showing different aspects of cars and repairs — electrical, starter system, suspension, brakes, etc. I stood in front of them remembering fixing those things are different cars during my life. Not a love of doing it for me; I’m not mechanically minded. Too poor to pay someone to do it. But that honed that whole idea in me, fix me it myself. Modern cars are much different. And I have more money. Plus, the lack of facilities — the military provided us workshops and facilities to fix our cars — means I take my cars and drop them off for others to tend them. There aren’t any points and plugs to changed, no rotor. I only check fluids and air pressures in this generation of my life. It’s one of many things which have changed, and are still changing.

Had some chuckles over Donald Trump’s height and weight claims when he was booked in: 6’3 and 215 pounds. One person noted, that’s almost the same height and weight as Cincinnati Bengals quarterback Joe Burrow, and very close to other quarterbacks, such Tom Brady. Patrick Mahones, KC Chiefs QB, is an inch shorter but ten pounds heavier than DJT. Somehow, the weight looks very different on Trump. Must be the football padding and uniform…right? Right. What a vain, vain man and liar DJT shows himself to be. Make me hurt for his supporters who unflinchingly support and believe him — many claim. I wonder.

From that, it was an easy route for The Neurons to dial up a Three Dog Night song called “Liar” from 1971 and slot it into the morning mental music stream (Trademark surprising). No more to say about it. Most of the chorus is the group loudly singing, “Liar!”

For the record, it’s smoky out there, around here. 70 F now, we’ll clip the hear in the low nineties today. Stay pos and be cool. Hand me my coffee. Here we go. Cheers

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Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

Stopped by Starbucks yesterday to meet a friend. They had a big display up celebrating twenty years of the pumpkin spice flavor. I remembered the first time I ever had one. My wife and I lived in Half Moon Bay, California. Relatives from the eastern US were visiting. An oddly chilly, damp day, we went to the Tech Museum in San Jose. Not far away was a Starbucks. We walked to it to get a hot coffee drink and on a whim, several of us had pumpkin spice lattes. The flavor surprised and impressed me.

But they or I changed in the intervening time. I had a sampler they’d put up; after a sip, the tastebuds said, “Oh, god, no.” I tossed it.

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Flipday’s Theme Music

Mood: streaky

Hey, it’s flip day. Monday, August 27, 2023. Call it flip day. Happens to be a Monday, but it’s a day when you flip your energies from weekend mode – or time-off setting – to business mode or work setting. It’s a state of mind. For me, this day is about businesses being open so I can call and make appointments to get matters attended.

Nature is having its way with us on the west coast. Count among the issues, fires, thunderstorms with lightning strikes, tropical storm with heavy rain, and earthquakes. Asteroid strike and Godzilla are missing but they could show up at any minute.

Ashlandia, where the deer roam everywhere and bears and cougars are frequent visitors, is cool and humid now. After smoke in the morning and in and out of the day, a rainstorm squatted over us and dumped a solid wet load. Struck the temperature down from the eighties into the low seventies like the current GOP taking down the last fifty years of progress.

So, 66 here. Supposed to clip mid-eighties today. Hints of smoke playing with the sky’s color, blending with the clouds, and striking our olfactory nerves. Several hundred lightning strikes recorded in our region this weekend. A few started fires. Those are being attended. Can’t get an update. Net keeps dropping on us. Been out a dozen times in the last twenty-four. Probably the storms, right?

My assumption is that the storms are wonkifying the net connections. Funny how the ancient diagnostics built into this Windows-based system assumes otherwise. They’re about checking your connections. Plugging in an ethernet connection. Checking your adapter. Making sure you’re not in sleep mode or your wireless is turned off. Like, when was the last time that these were problems? In my purview, the problems are generally outside of my walls; it’s the net down, and typically due to weather or power outages somewhere.

To deal with the outages, I’m writing posts in Word with the hope that a connection will come and I can post them. If you’re reading this, that worked. Update to that: went to the coffee shop. They have a connection. So what’s up at my house? Something to pursue once I go home.

Would it surprise anyone to hear that Les Neurons are feeding the morning mental music stream (Trademark stormy) with music about weather? There’s “Stormy” by Classics IV, and that blues staple, “Stormy Monday”, along with songs that feature rain, like “Here Comes the Rain Again” by the Eurythmics, and that one by Guns ‘n Roses, “Sweet Child of Mine”, and its lines about a woman’s hair:

“Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place, where as a child I’d hide. And pray for the thunder and the rain to quietly pass me by.”

Then we had B.J. Thomas (“Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head”). CCR offered a few songs about rain. The Beatles had one. “Fire and Rain”, James Taylor, very appropriate. Elvis. GNR again with “November Rain.” Can we overlook Prince and “Purple Rain” or that ancient classic, “Singing in the Rain”? My Neurons didn’t. How ‘bout “Laughter in the Rain”, “It’s Raining Men”, and “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain”? That’s just a drop in the rain bucket. I’m sure your neurons are peppering your thoughts with more.

But in a quiet moment, as the clouds were contemplated and the humid cool air threw itself against my face, came Gordon Lightfoot with “Rainy Day People” (1975). Cuz there’s a line, there, “Rainy day people all know it hangs on a piece of mind.”

Okay, coffee has landed. Stay pos, be strong, and have a good flipday. Fingers crossed and positive thoughts for all the peoples of the world dealing with weather disasters. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Smokeday’s Theme Music

Mood: weary

Sunday, August 20, 2023. Ashlandia, where the sky tries to stay blue but the smoke rolls in from the south. 74 degrees F, eyeing 88 F as the heat’s top end.

Smoke is back. Air is filthy. Very unhealthy to hazardous. Easterly wind blowing but it’s so light, leaves are barely stirred, and the smoke mocks the effort. Not as bad as the other morning; the sun displays some semblance of its standard morning coloring. Depressing is rolling in. Coughing. Stuffed up noses. Watering, itchy eyes.

The cats aren’t pleased, neither, confined to quarters, their normal routines halted. Forced change is not fun. Well, Tucker is okay with it. He’s older and is, okay, fine, I’ll just nap in here. But Papi sometimes breaks into crys of freedom. Then I tell him no and he walks off.

In another of those WTF America stories, a woman, mother of nine, the story says, was shot and killed by a man angered by the rainbow flag on display at her store. Senseless.

Weather eye on Hurricane Hilary and California. Fire eye on Hawaii and their recovery. Fire eye also on California, Canada, and Oregon. Heat eye on most of the US.

The Neurons loaded the morning mental music stream (Trademark preposterous) with Ricky Martin, “Livin’ La Vida Loca”. Song came out in 1999. I mostly remember it from my Paris business trip a year, maybe two, later, when I went about singing living la vida mocha. Yes, I am a silly person. Figure it’s a good song for this era, when it all seems a bit crazy. I can speculate that most eras had people thinking that it’s a little nuts outside.

Speaking of mocha, I’m havin’ my coffee now. Stay pos, be strong, maybe have a little fun. Pretend it’s life and it’s worth living, even if you live it a little crazy. Here’s the tune. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Might as well call this Smokeday. It’s August 18, 2023. The air in Ashlandia, where the roads are wide and the sidewalks are numerous, has gone into the trashcan. Yesterday, Purple Air showed the air quality jumping into the hazardous range and lurking there for the night’s entirety. Today finds it still mostly in the hazardous or unhealthy zones. We’ve gone all Twilight Zone apocalypse out there, with the mountains hidden behind he dirty air and no view of the valley. We could be the last island of civilization, if this view is the guide.

We’d been hoping we’d miss the smoky air this year. So far, we had done well, but lightning lit up the Klamath complex southwest of us, and its smoke drops a pall over the region. The fire centers on Happy Camp, which was also the source of our 2014 nasty air.

In good news, we’ve dropped out of the high temperatures. 72 F now, today’s high end is believed to be 92 F but I postulate that this thick smoke will keep us from reaching that high. Winds are from the east, clearing the smoke out right now. Sunshine has cleared its way after a long red dawn morning. It’s raining on the coast, which will put some moisture in the air around Happy Camp. That keeps us hope that the fire won’t be around into November.

The cats aren’t pleased with the smoke, as we’re keeping them in. Tucker the elder is fine with it but Papi issued declarations that staying in was not in his bucket list. He mostly makes his home in the master bath, with its cool and quiet, I suppose, and no one can slip up on him without being sighted. I’m thinking of Tucker in that, who gets passive-aggressive at times, and outright aggressive at others. TC is being mellow, though, but already a little under the weather with some respiratory issues brought on by the smoke. I’ll give him some Lysine L, which generally helps him deal.

Songwise, I have Croce in the morning mental music stream (Trademark worthy). Jim Croce arrived there after a convo in which someone said, “You just don’t do that.” My Neurons leaped into action, adding, “You don’t pull on Superman’s cape, you don’t spit into the wind, you don’t pull the mask off the ol’ Lone Ranger, and you don’t mess around with Jim.” So here we are with “You Don’t Mess Around With Jim”, some fun story-telling music from Jim Croce and 1972.

Time to coffee up and face the day. Be strong, stay pos, and don’t get sucked into the vortex of negativity. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: disconcerted

August 17, in the year of 2023, has graced us with Thursday, the after Lousy Wednesday and the day before Waiting Friday. It’s cooler, cloudier today in Ashlandia, where the workers are busy and the politicians are idle. We expect some storms of thunder, maybe rain, with 91 F as the designated stopping point for the day’s heat. 83 F right now, pretty comfortable, except the humidity is pressing in to make its point that rain could be coming.

Met with the beer gang last night, ten strong. Our first toast, breaking with standards, was to Fani Willis. She’s the Trump breaker indicting the former POTUS with some RICO brew that looks strong on paper and has gained some gushing reviews. First blush, it doesn’t look good for Trump and his gang of eighteen. These were the criminal masterminds trying to work an overthrow of the 2020 election, you know, the one Trump claims to have been stolen after he was soundly beaten. Refusing to bow to reality or lack of evidence, he’s kept on about it. My beer comrades are all looking forward to the moment when Fani Willis brings the wood.

You know Trump is concerned about this turn because he’s come out fast with multiple false claims. He says he has facts that will immediately exonerate him. Then he attacked Willis’ reputation by claiming that she had affairs (pretty laughable, coming from Trump and his shady history), while trying to undermine her role by spewing some lies about Atlanta having a record number of murders, suggesting it would be better use of the DA’s time to pursue murderers. Of course, all these things have been debunked, but since when are facts important in Trump World?

For music, I started singing “This Wheel’s on Fire” to myself yesterday while walking. Written by B. Dylan and Rick Danko, numerous entities have covered the song since its release, but I was singing The Band’s classic rendition, released last century. I think The Neurons’ inspiration was the walk to the brewery where we’d sip our beers. Bit smoky, spattering rain through ninety-nine degree heat, I wondered where the smoke originated, speculating about fires. Then the song started. Still remains in my morning mental music stream (Trademark worthy).

Alright, be strong, be informed, and stay positive. Time to rock Thursday so we can move on to Waiting Friday. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: bouncy

Tuesday has been plated and is ready for serving. It’s August 15, 2023, in Ashlandia, where the ground is dry and the rivers are low. It’s currently 79 degrees F, but the thermometer’s final destination is 102 F for today. The indicators on my weather station hit 108 F yesterday afternoon but it looks like the official top was 105 F. The heat stayed until close to midnight, when it finally dropped into the mid 80s. Yes, air conditioning’s influence was sought when the house’s interior popped over 85 F in the evening.

I watched lightening shyly flickering and dancing on our southern border with California. This was just after midnight. Come 6:20, I thought, it feels like it’s going to rain. I imagined that as some slight barometric pressure changes felt, along with a tilt to the smell, coupled with experience of like times from beforedays. Over an hour later, 7:33, the drumroll began. Never got heavy nor fast, and lingered but five minutes, but the petrichor and sound were a welcome morning interlude in wet. Thunder accented a few seconds and brought Papi, the ginger wonder, to my side, as he is a firm disliker of thunder, but that ended before the rain. Now comes fire watch to see if any new fires have been discovered in the dry mountain forests.

Can’t say it’s a blue sky today. Conniving smoke and clouds are keeping that title at bay. But the sun and high pressure system are determined to keep it hot. This will last until Thursday, we’re told.

The Neurons have locked “Wasted” by The Runaways (1977) in the morning mental music stream. I haven’t been able to trace the impetus for this song. Don’t think I have heard it in decades. I remember being with a friend while in the US in the mid 80s. This song came on. A younger guy, he asked, “Who is it?” The Runaways, I answered. “Never heard of them,” he replied. “They kind of sound like Joan Jett.” That’s ’cause Joan Jett was The Runaways’ lead vocalist on that song. He was like, oh.

Time for liftoff. Stay pos, be strong, and look ’em in the eye. Coffee service has commenced. Make it black and pure for me. Here we go. Let’s start with the video. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: bold

The arrival board clicked; yes, Monday had arrived on schedule and was pulling into gate 8/14/2023.

It’s hot in Ashlandia, 84 F at 9:45, heading for 105 today. Cooled down to 70 during the night but it was a late cool down and the sun cracked the whip on the heat as soon as it showed up.

Spend a pleasant day yesterday away from Ashlandia, where the businesses are average and the tourists are good-looking. Went to Jacksonville, a thirty-five minute drive via highway and country roads. Bon voyage party for friends, who are moving to Spain. They’ve been planning it for years, and have lived a few months at a time in the past few years. Now they’re awaiting their visas and putting their stuff in storage, and doing the paperwork through a lawyer to ensure everything is properly accomplished regarding health insurance, etc.

We met them in 2005, just after moving to Ashland. The mechanism was the Y exercise class. My wife, who enjoys exercising, joined the Family Y and began attending that class every M-W-F, and met the woman, Linda. Coffee, lunches, shopping adventures, book clubs, and going out for dancing so followed. Linda and her hubby are terrifically social, friendly, happy people. They always had something going on, and they just started including us.

The Neurons ended up lifting good-bye songs from the grey matter on the drive home. Simple Minds carry the morning mental music stream with “Don’t You Forget About Me” from 1985.

Well, gonna go do yardwork before it gets too hot, than off to write. Shoot down a cuppa coffee first. Stay pos, be strong, remain sane. Here we go. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: moderate

I blinked, and it’s Sunday once again. Seems like it was Sunday just last week. Ever get tired of that routine? Maybe we should expand the names of the days of the week. The government could have a big auction. Proceeds would go to education, homelessness programs, Medicare, and Medicaid. So we could have Appleday, IBMday, Floday (sponsored by Progressive Insurance), Fordday, MCUday, Primeday, etc. It’d be odd at first, sure, but we would adjust. They would earn the rights for a quarter. That way, things could be seasonal, or used for movie promotions. Sunday could be Barbieday.

Today is August 13, 2023. 77 F and climbing. Gonna be a hot one. Like seven inches from the midday sun. 103 is expected.

The Neurons stirred “Head Over Heels” by Tears for Fears (1985) into the morning mental music stream (Trademark hot). The CD that song was on was Songs from the Big Chair and was part of my long-distance rotation while going on temporary duty assignments in ’85, when I was stationed in South Carolina. I’m not surprised Les Neurons plucked this song out of memory, as I was head over heels in dreams last night. Nothing particularly interesting. Mostly anxiety dream varieties. That’s what’s been dominating.

Smoke entered the valley last night so it was shut the windows, keep them closed, and stayed inside. Air Quality Index entered the Moderate zone. I smelled and felt it, though, eyes tearing up and drying up, nose developing a drip, throat growing sore. Amazingly quick period before that all happened. I suspect that it’s a COVID leftover from last year’s bout. Never used to be like this for me. Of course, it might be just aging.

While still mesmerized by Hawaii’s disaster, news in the state today is about the increase of cougar sightings. The article pointed out that the cougar population has grown to 6,000, and that the growth of security cameras in houses and increased trail cams has increased our awareness of them. We have almost daily stories of them here in Ashlandia, where the people are worried, and pets are kept in sight.

Time to kick off this Oppenheimerday. Stay pos and be strong. Remember to love yourself a little. Nothing freaky, okay? Coffee? Mine is black and hot, without sugar, thanks. French roast.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: reflective

We’re about to rock Thursday, August 10, 2023 — or is it about to rock us?

It’s a comfortable morning in Ashlandia, where the children are young and the parents are hopeful. 70 F and sunny now, 91 is on the books as the expected high. Relative humidity is hovering around 41%. Mild breezes carry mountain chills into the valley as the sun’s heat starts taking over.

My thoughts are with Hawaii today. The photos, videos, and tales emerging from the islands are saddening, soul-killing. Hawaii for me was a beautiful exotic place to visit, almost like paradise. It’s painful to think of those wonderful people and lands burning. Not too much different from what it was like to see Italy burning, Spain, California, Australia, and other places around the world in the last few years. Whether Hawaii’s disaster is linked to climate change, I don’t know. Fires do happen but so many devastating fires and disasters have been witnessed in the last ten years, the tension of impending collapse feels like it’s increasing. There is evidence that climate change is happening, and accelerating. For us not to try to mitigate what we can is such a depressing, defeatist, and selfish attitude that my dismay rises to disbelief. That so often the excuse for not doing something is that it will be bad for business is appalling.

I paused for a bit to remember the many places I visited and how fortunate I was to have visited them. Too often I forget how privileged I’ve been and am. It’s a side effect of privilege, one of several, that you ended up taking these things for granted.

The Neurons plucked “The Best of Times” by Styx out of the mental repository. It’s playing full tilt in the morning mental music stream (Trademark uncertain), brought on by the lyrics, “Rumor has it, it’s the end of paradise.” So often when we look back, we have a moment that we think of as the best of times. Those are generated by relativities of who you are, where you were, your expectations and disappointments, really, your reality. I think about future generations and what they’ll look back upon, and wonder. Fortunately, beyond the broader landscape of existence, people have their own bubbles of being. It’s in there where we take comfort as we can, and stock hope for something better.

Time for coffee, or as I dub it, ‘coffee time’ (trademark rejected). Say positive and hopeful, even optimistic, and let’s keep moving forward. Peace out, as they used to say.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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