Category: memories

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: sunsizzle

Our intrepid band of three hundred million plus call Earthlings or Terrans come at last to the day noted as Tuesday, April 9, 2024. Once a date studied by prophets and feared by rulers, the reasons for that have been lost. Only one man knows the truth, but he’s been frozen and forgotten. And so we, the survivors, skip through this day not knowing its significance.

It’s sunny in Ashlandia. The sky’s blueness is marred by some lazy stray clouds hanging above the valley’s high edges, as though spying for an enemy ruler. Current temperature is in the upper 50s F. We’re shimmying toward the upper 60s. This is a fine example of how spring should appear in the middle of the season in Aslandia.

My wife and I have been involved in a jigsaw puzzle. She picked it up at the library of things last Friday. We began working on it that day.

It’s a Ravensburger, which is my favorite. Ravensburger puzzles have solid pieces which fit together well, and vibrant colors. This one is a tableau of a beach house living room looking out over the sea. A small dog rests on his bed in the foreground, looking back at you. His orange toy is on the bed beside him.

A coffee table dominates the center. It sits on a striped rug on a hardwood floor. Sharing its surface top is a tray of food and wine, a long scarf colorful with sea creatures and flowing aquas, purples, oranges, and blues, a gold-rimmed bowl of shells and starfish, and a plate of food. Sea foam green easy chairs and sofa are arranged on either side of the table. Past the table are open sliding doors leading to a deck.

Beyond the deck is the sand and churning waves. Further out are sailing vessels and a coastguard ship. Osprey and gulls wheel through light clouds and blue skies.

I’d love to live in that place. Wish I was there now, listening to the ocean and reading a book. Small stacks of books are on the sofa and the coffee table’s lower shelf.

The puzzle is coming together fast. We are now about 85% finished. Sky and sea remain, along with the birds.

It wasn’t that way yesterday morning. Back then, we had one edge piece missing. The coffee table was almost complete, and the dog and several other areas were completed. I’d say it was thirty percent done.

I was focused on that missing edge piece. My obsessiveness had kicked in. I hadn’t plan to work on that puzzle at the point in the day. It was mid-morning and I had things to do. But I sure wanted to find that missing piece.

Going through the pieces, I began asking deities and fates for help. None came but The Neurons, taking up my issue, began an ABBA song: SOS from 1975 began playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark sinking).

I found an American Bandstand episode with Dick Clark and ABBA on the net. Seeing Bandstand shook up memories like they were in a snow globe. Many teenagers and pre-teens hustled into a television’s presence to see the show in the 1960s. I never became deeply into it, but my older sister surely was. ABBA wasn’t a group I followed. I didn’t aspire to their style. But I respected their talents and their drive to succeed. There they were, doing what they’d set out to do. Congrats to them. I knew about them because AM radio broadcast their music. Then there were the friends who were so into them, too…

By the way, I didn’t find the missing piece and left for the coffee shop. My wife returned from her exercise class and answered the call, finding the missing piece. She’s my hero.

Stay positive, persevere, and Vote Blue this November. Coffee is being actively consumed in parallel to my typing. Hope you have the kind of day you wanted when you awoke this morning. Here’s the music.

Cheers

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Eclipse Day Theme Music

Mood: moonsible

A hearty welcome to all the moonies joining us today. Welcome, welcome, to April 8, 2024, also known a Eclipse Day 2024 in the U.S. Here in Oregonia, this is currently projected as the last eclipse we’ll glimpse until 2044, so you know, we’ve dug out our eclipse glasses and gaze up at the sun as the moon made its way.

Weather wise, we have a decently clear sky, sunshine, and wind. Presently 58, it feels like 63 F and the high will be 68 in Ashlandia, where I reside alongside the deer, breweries, wineries, and bookstores. Lovely out there, really.

Just a sidenote, but our bookstore numbers have declined since I’ve moved here. Hey, but not my fault, so don’t read that into my statement. Outside the college’s bookstore, we’re down to *sigh* three.

Also declining is the school district’s enrollment. Enrollment has dropped by 300 students since 2017. A cutback of 23 staff and teachers is in place for the next school year. Reasons cited for the decline include the COVID-19 pandemic, and fewer families moving here because of the high cost of housing. Fewer students means the state is reducing the funds allotted the Ashland School District by over three million dollars next school year.

As you can imagine, today’s eclipse has me hearing music about the eclipse. The Neurons figured out something else. Viewing videos of people staring at the sun, The Neurons initiated “Planet Claire” by the B52’s in the morning mental music stream. The 1979 song has an out-of-this-world bongo-infused sound overlayed onto the “Peter Gunn” theme music. To me, it fully encapsulates the fascination people are expressing with this eclipse.

Whatever else is happening, the house floofs weren’t interested in the eclipses. They found good cozy spots and napped through it.

Stay positive, remain strong, continue leaning forward, and Vote Blue this November. Coffee has been enjoyed; more is on the way.

Here’s the sky-staring music. It’s a fun song. I know, it’s too late for the eclypso, but we were out on a Food and Friends run. Cheers

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Two Dreams

My dreams of late have been numerous but mostly adventure stories which don’t seem to include me, with a few exceptions. Last night’s dreams were all about me. Two struck me as more interesting than the rest.

This one really intrigued me. A younger version of me was strolling through a hall. Passing brick walls, I could have been in a school, college, university, or museum. I was alone, though.

Mounted on the walls were hundreds of boxes. All were the same size, about eight by ten inches, two inches tall, with printing and a scene on the front. Wondering what they were, I slowed to examine them.

“Oh,” I said, speaking aloud as realizations came. “I see. Those are dreams I can chose. Very cool.”

Smiling, putting my hands in my pockets, I resumed strolling, looking at the boxes as I went by.

While the first dream featured only me, the second was busy with people. Most were strangers, even though several were purported to be co-workers.

Background: A former boss, Walter, was featured in the dream. I’d worked for him at my first startup after retiring. Walter was a nurse who’d become involved in starting medical device companies. He’d made a fortune with a device called the Rotablator last century. The startup where I worked for him in the 1990s was a medical device company manufacturing stents mounted on balloons for use in coronary angioplasty. We made our own balloons and stents and were searching for ways to used stents and/or balloons for treating some stenting side-effects with radiation. Fun time.

In last night’s dream, I again worked for Walter. He was trying to start another new business. The last one hadn’t worked. I went to him and asked, “Walter, what are we going to do?”

He replied, “Don’t worry, I have some things coming up.” (Typical Walter).

My desk was located outside, as was everyone else’s desk. We sat on black mental folding chairs. As I had no work, I just goofed around, playing little games.

Other people came to see me, along with a middle-aged woman with a sunny smile and a blonde beehive hair style. She told me she was either a regulator or inspector and was just coming to check on me to see if I was okay.

Walter then came around and told me to be on the watch for Jason. Jason was supposed to be arriving. I responding, “Who’s Jason? What’s he look like?”

“Jason is a friend,” Walter called back over a shoulder, going away again.

Looking for Jason, I went around the corner of a large cinder block and metal building. About a dozen people were there, milling about, busy with different activities and conversations. One came around the corner on the building’s other end.

Making my way to him, I introduced myself, and added, “You’re Jason, aren’t you?” As he replied yes, I finished, “Walter is waiting for you. Follow me.”

Dream end.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sunnybration

We’re getting started on another Saturday here in Ashlandia on the third rock from the sun.

It’s April 6, 2024. The weather isn’t anything to write about, but I will note it’s rainy and cloudy and sunny again today. Present temp is 46 F. Add six degrees to it, and you have the day’s expected high. There is enough sunshine to energize me and filet depression, anxiety, and frustration off my mood.

In personal news, Mom headed to the hospital for stomach pain yesterday afternoon. Appendicitis was the diagnosis. I called a sis for details. She was accompanying Mom and I was able to briefly speak with her. Sis and Mom were both in good spirits at the hospital. Even though, at that point, Mom was in the hall, cold, awaiting a room, awaiting surgery, over twenty hours removed from eating anything, at almost eight PM.

They operated on her that night. The 88-year-old woman survived without issue. It was related back to me that the medical staff claimed it was “the worse looking appendix they’d ever removed.” Mom seemed proud about that.

Today finds The Neurons plugging “Goodbye to You” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark eclipsed). This song by Scandal and Patty Smyth was released in 1982. It’s a fun, driving rocker. Dance floors filled up when it came on in clubs.

I know exactly why The Neurons summoned it today. My wife was reading the news and addressing her frustration with certain politicians. During her brief diatribe, she mentioned she’d be very happy to see several Republicans gone. She said, she would love to be able to say, “Goodbye and good riddance.”

Click. “Hit it,” The Neurons commanded, and the song began. I think it’s a good song for the day and purpose.

Stay positive, and be romantic, and — whoa, don’t know where that one came from. A slip of the head, I supposed. Be pos and strong, I meant to write, lean forward, and Vote Blue. Got any extra coffee on you? I think I need some.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Fridayitis

All things must pass, and so Thursday has passed into Friday, April 5, 2024.

It’s a rainy day. Was a rainy night. Clouds are blockading the sun. That’s April weather in the US, isn’t it? “April showers bring May flowers,” and all that.

Not an American idiom, though, but a British one. I looked it up on the net, so it must be true.

April showers bring May flowers

Adversity is followed by good fortune. An old proverb, it was taken more literally in days gone by, and in fact it appeared in a British book of Weather Lore published in 1893.

h/t thefreedictionary.com

So, be optimistic, I tell myself. I hold to hope even though sometimes adversity follows adversity until it’s an absolute train wreck.

It’s 38 F in my slice of Ashlandia. Expected to reach 52 F. Showers are also expected. But sunshine soaks the back yard and soars in through the southern windows. Papi, my ginger house floof, is engaging the sun in the yard. Tucker, the black and white house floof. is luxuriously grooming in sunshine through the eastern living room windows.

After feeding the two floofs earlier, Papi hunted me down in the kitchen. I was preparing my meal. (Floofs eat first. House rule. Not sure who decided…) Papi sat beside me and planted a level gaze on me. “What is it?” I asked. “Are you hungry? Need more to eat?”

Papi responded, “Meow.” I recognized that as, yes. Well, probably yes. It could also mean, no. Or, what? Or, maybe.

Taking it as one of those, I fed him again, since morning pate remained. He ate a thumble’s worth and headed for the back door. I believe I misinterpreted his meow.

We spent last night out with friends. First, food at a Medford restaurant, Tap & Vine. Then we headed to the Craterian Theater to catch a show, “The Simon & Garfunkel Story”. It’s a little story about the American folk rock duo, Art Garfunkel and Paul Simon. The story was interspersed with a cavalcade of their songs over the years.

What a cavalcade. “Bridge Over Troubled Water”, “The Sound of Silence”, “The Boxer”, “Homeward Bound”, “I Am A Rock”, “Cecilia”, “The Big Bright Green Pleasure Machine”, “Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme”, “A Hazy Shade of Winter”, “Bookends”, “Mrs Robinson”, “Feeling Groovey”. I’m certainly overlooking a few.

Probably not a surprise, but the crowd was a mostly over sixty collection. One companion joked, “Gray hair is required to attend.” There was a significant quantity of gray in the hair among attendees. But Simon & Garfunkel songs peppered our youth. Yet, Mom knew them, too. I remembered her singing “Mrs Robinson” to me when I was trying to ask her some question.

The song that often stays with me is “Richard Cory”. Why not? A 1966 song based on the Edwin Arlington Robinson poem, “Richard Cory”, it’s a tale of envy and jealousy. A man works in a Richard Cory-owned factory. Cory is rich, a man about town, attending the theater, driving fancy cars, having big parties, etc. The worker singing in the song works in the factory, hates his job and despises his poverty. But it’s Richard Cory who ends up killing himself.

Ironic, isn’t it, we mock. The man with everything is the one who takes his life.

Anyway, this is the song which The Neurons planted in the morning mental music stream (Trademark illusive) on this April Friday morning. Hope it brightens your day.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue. I’m into my coffee already, thanks. Used it to wash down a buttered bagel. First course was canteloupe chunks. Fine way to start a Friday. Here’s the music.

Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sunzestic

Hello my fellow beings. Following the general trends of reality of which we are aware, we’ve shifted to the next elements in the sequence we’ve been following for centuries. If you’re using a solar calendar, of course. And Gregorian. If so, today is Tuesday, April 2, 2024.

Each morning when I rise, I put it out to the universe, can you slow down time for me? I’m not asking for much, just enough to finish some things on my lists while still being able to chill a little. Instead, I’m often looking at the time and wonder if someone’s pranking me by messing with the clocks and calendars. Maybe I’m being hypnotized for an hour and then awakened and forced to rush. I suspect the cats. They always appear to be sharing a secret that amuses them.

It’s warming up here today. Already at 60 F, we’re expecting the sun and air to take us to 78 F before the day is shuttered. Don’t get overly excited. As we’ve learned, it’s gonna change again. Tomorrow — Wednesday — is promising to be rainy, with a high of 55 F.

These sort of weather patterns always present me with a conundrum. The rain is good for us but I like the sunshine. I suppose, if I’m not going to be selfish, I should cheer the rain and accept it.

My floof boys are appreciating the sunshine, though. They’re airing their fur and soaking up rays, and looking sweet and charming, out there in the green grass and sun.

With Easter, I was thinking about family. Back when I was growing up (I’m now growing down, I think, becoming a little shorter each year), Mom made Easter a big deal. We dyed eggs. They were hidden. We hunted them. She presented us with elaborate baskets. Managing to prepare them in secret, they arrived on Easter morning like magic.

Those baskets were loaded. Sugar and chocolate dominated. She always ensured we each had a huge solid milk chocolate rabbit. We also had a large, lavishly decorated coconut eggs. Marshmallow rabbits and chicks, chocolates shaped like bunnies or eggs wrapped in colorful foil, and jellybeans and colorful marshmallow eggs set in plastic green grass lining the basket’s bottom finished the scene.

Then there were our clothes. My sisters bought new pastel dresses. I was presented with a new little three-piece suit and shoes, and taken for a haircut, so I was freshly groomed. I wore a crew cut then, held in place with Brylcreem. Didn’t need to shave in those days, so that saved time and effort. Dressed like that, we crowded into the packed local Protestant church to hear about Jesus and the Resurrection and sing hymns that I didn’t know.

Next, off to the Grands for a big family Easter dinner. Grandpa was in charge of making a huge Easter ham. That sucker tasted awesome.

Quite a turnout, it was. Dad wasn’t usually there. He and Mom were divorced and he was serving overseas in the military. But his family took Mom and her brood in. Beside us four and the two grandparents were four siblings and their significant others and children, anyway from twenty to twenty-five people.

Later that night, as children gradually retired on our overdoses of food, sugar, and socializing, the adults gathered to drink, smoke, and gamble with cards. Ah, Easter!

I don’t think it was the religion that made it such an awesome day. It was Mom and family, and the effort they put into it. Also, I was a child and had no responsibilities.

My sisters and Mom informed me of their Easter events via social media this year. It’s the new norm. It’s a smaller gathering. One little sister, Grandma Gina, hosted. Her daughters and her grandchildren and their spouses came over, along with another sister and her sons, and Mom and her beau. Not quite the extravaganza it used to be. I don’t think they even bought new clothes. They had plenty of food, though, especially desserts.

With these thoughts of family in my head, The Neurons delivered “Fly, Robin, Fly” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark imploding). Back when I was visiting for Easter one year, that song played on the car radio as I drove her somewhere in my Camaro. I was nineteen and in the military. She was nine, and so cute, with her straight bangs and shoulder-length shiny brown hair. As the song played, she turned to me and said, “This is my favorite song.”

Surprised me. The 1975 Silver Convention song was a disco classic, all about rhythm and dancing. Three words are repeated a few times during the song, and then there’s, “Up up to the sky.” I wasn’t into disco so much. But with my sister’s proclamation about the song, I heard it in a different way.

Stay positive and remain strong. Election day is growing closer. Lean forward and Vote Blue. I’m on my second cup of coffee now, so the day is going well for me. After writing, there’s shopping, and yardwork. Hope your day goes well. Here’s the music. It’s a fun video and will stir disco memories, if you were there. If you weren’t there, you can watch and learn.

Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: Spectralable.

Hi there. Today is Monday, April 1, 2024. Watch out for those tricks.

The sun isn’t doing any tricks. Sipping coffee in the living room, I watched through the Eastern windows as the sun rose and shifted. A hearty light bloomed, taking the 38 degree F’s cold off a little. By degrees, the sun pulled our temperatures higher. We’re up to 47 F now. Nothing but blue from horizon to horizon. 69 F is possible, they say.

Guess who is happy that the sun is full and strong today? If you said me, you’re right. But if you said that the sun’s appearance gladden the floofs, you’re also right. Tucker and Papi are on the back patio appreciating the sun, washing on the cement, prancing through the grass, or sitting, gazing, listening, sniffing the air.

Back in 1970, Led Zeppelin released the song playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark floundering). The Neurons ordered up “Celebration Day” today. This song seems to me like the vocalist as a narrator is happy about the day while he also spills a tale about a woman is becoming lost and confused about what’s going on.

Fer instance, the song begins, “Her face is cracked from smiling, all the fears that she’s been hiding, and it seems that pretty soon, everybody’s gonna know.” Pretty damn bleak, isn’t it?

But the chorus is, “My, my, my, I’m so happy, I’m gonna join the band. We gonna dance and sing in celebration. We are in the promised land.”

So my interpretation is that something happens, happened, or is happening which brings despair to some as others celebrate. It’s true in life and really visible in sports, awards, and politics.

Hope you can keep positive and strong, lean forward against the winds of resistance, and Vote Blue. I’m trying to do the same. Here’s the throwback music. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sunsational

It’s the next to last day of March. Day before Easter. Saturday, March 30, 2024.

We’ve got sunshine snaking around gray masses of condensed water vapor drifting across the blue-wave sky. Temperature is 50 F and some rain is anticipated, with a high of 56 F in the forecast. March winds are blowing.

There is so much news to digest and think about. Writing about multiple events is possible but I won’t, today, sparing you all. As writer Amanda Marcotte wrote in a Salon article, many ideas and stories surrounding Trump and the MAGA GOP can be labeled, “Shocking, not surprising.”

I’d rather stay away from that and focus on my fiction writing. Part of that is because I’m in an enjoyable phase, rev 6 of one of the works in progress. A second part is that I’m weary of the often-exasperating news, like the MAGA GOP kneejerk response to the demolished Maryland bridge. Then there’s a third factor, that due to Sunday brunch with friends tomorrow, I’ll probably not be writing tomorrow. So I’m trying to get ahead.

I will say — because I have little impulse control, I suppose — that the video of the Dari cargo ship striking the Francis Scott Key bridge and the bridge’s collapse is stunning.

Music for today comes from 1975. I can’t parse why The Neurons plugged it into the morning mental music stream (Trademark sinking). That’s the way of The Neurons. (Is that a novel title? The Way of the Neurons.)

My Neurons like hijacking my brain (which might be called brainjacking, I guess), and the body follows. Like, I’ll go into the kitchen to get a glass of water and suddenly I’m eating cookies, no explanations given. It’s like my Neurons have me hypnotized.

Anyway, today’s theme music is brought to us by the Ozark Mountain Daredevils. “Jackie Blue” was soft country rock song released in 1975, a year after I graduated high school. I was in the U.S. Air Force then and heard it regularly on my car’s AM radio. 1975 was the year of my first duty assignment, Wright-Patterson Air Force Base in Ohio, and the year I was married. That was my first wedding, and remains my only wedding, and the marriage still endures. “Jackie Blue” and being at WPAFB and getting married seems fused in my head. So when I heard the song today in the MMMS, I remembered young me as I took on adulting.

Stay positive, be stalwart, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has already been swallowed in significant quantities, so let’s listen to the music. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: flooful

Round and round, here we go, another March in another year (yeah, still 2024), another Thursday in another week. It’s the 28th. This month of this year is almost done, and with its passing, one fourth of 2024 is history.

Chilly, cloudy, rainy. That’s my adjectives for today. Snow capped the highest peaks around the valley to the north yesterday. The rain just fell and fell.

Rain has stopped today. After dropping to the upper thirties last night, we’ve crept up to 51 F degrees. That’s close to the day’s upper limit.

The big news from my perspective is that Tucker survived his surgery. Back home, he’s recovering, mostly hanging out in the office where we hang out, by the space heater where my wife hangs out. Slept with me last night, purring away. He’s doing well after having all teeth removed due to refractory stomatitis gingivitis. The RSG often led to inflamed, bleeding gums for my boy, and just became progressively worse.

Recovery involves a great deal of painkillers. Painkillers mean sleep. Buprenorphine two to three times a day. A mild opioid, this makes Tucker glassy eyed. It’s on top of his other painkiller twice a day.

He’s also on a soft food diet for the next two weeks. That’ll be a challenge for the kibble chief. The black and white fur fellow loves his kibble.

Today’s song is by Ratt. “Round and Round” was released in 1984. It’s Ratt’s highest charting song, and it’s probably the best known number for the group.

It began going around and around my morning mental music stream (Trademark in the mail) after reading news. First, again. These days just go round and round. I cycle through the news cycles. Other than war, murder, and disasters, the rest of the news seems to be on permanent spin. Trials. Elections. Misinformation. “Biden is too old! Biden is too old!” Give me a break.

Round and round, Marjorie Taylor Green is threatening to unseat a GOP House Speaker again. Same ol’ antics that she did before. Hey, dear, what goes around comes around, you know? Just ask Ronna McDaniel, previously of the RNC, more recently of NBC News. The stuff she spread during her RNC days — just doing her job, officer — has come back to haunt her.

Or ask President Biden’s predecessor. Now facing prosecution for the things he did and said. Round and round, what goes around — you get it, right?

BTW, for those unfamiliar with Ratt, they were glam rockers, part of the big hair movement of the 1980s. The big hair glam rockers had lots of hair. We could often barely see their faces because of their long, frequently curly, wavy, fluffy, and well, BIG, hair. One of our past rock movements. What goes around is supposed to come around again, right? It is happening among the TikTok Alphas. They like fat leg pants, which is what I wore in the early 1970s. And I hear many embrace the old-style phones.

Well, we’ll see if big hair glam rock returns from the grave.

Stay positive, hang on, lean forward, and Vote Blue. Please. Coffee has cometh and is being consumedeth. Here’s the nostalgic video. Hope your day is a powerful one for you.

Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: coffeetized

March 26, 2024 is a Tuesday. I mention it because it is upon us. Winter and spring heroics are vivdly displayed in a skybleau vivant of blue, gray, and white pieces. Rain was here yesterday and last night. Might it come again today? All signs point to ask again later. It’s 42 F. Sunshine is shimmering in around the clouds, alleviating the chill. 58. That’s what they say our high will be.

When I looked out at the mixed composition of clouds, The Neurons began “Cloud Nine” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark cloudy). I enjoy the 1968 song by The Temptations. It sets up a tempting tableau.

(Cloud 9) [Paul:] You can be what you wanna be.
(Cloud 9) [Dennis:] You ain’t got no responsibility.
(Cloud 9) [Eddie:] Every man, every man is free.
(Cloud 9) [Dennis:] You’re a million miles from reality

h/t to AZLyrics.com

The interplay by the singers and the upbeat tempo and optimistic lyrics made it a childhood favorite. Don’t mind it in the morning mental music stream at all.

When I was young, I wondered, “Why cloud nine?” What’s going on with clouds one through eight? Are there higher clouds? Like, number ten?

The first question was answered by a teacher. Sort of. He suggested that “Cloud Nine” was from Dante’s Paradiso. As a twelve-year-old, I’d never heard of it. An elderly neighbor later said it was about angels. In a meteorology class in the Air Force, a sergeant talked about the classifications of clouds, telling us that nine is the highest level of clouds.

While musing about it today, I found a neat little article on udiscovermusic.com covering these things. They also noted that it used to be cloud seven used as a euphoric state.

‘Indeed, improbable as it sounds, as far back as 1896, the first edition of the International Cloud Atlas defined ten types of cloud, of which the cumulonimbus, rising to 6.2 miles, was declared the highest that a cloud could be. In 1960, the Dictionary Of American Slang defined “cloud seven” – not nine – as meaning “in a euphoric state.”’

Despite all this, today’s edition of “Cloud Nine” is by Beach Bunny. It’s a 2020 TikTok hit and no at all like he 1968 beats. I like checking out TikTok to see what our young are tuning into and heard the song on there. I don’t recall when. But dialing up the song today on YouTube reminded me of it existence. So I’m playing it just to spite The Neurons. Yes, it’s petty.

I’ve read Beach Bunny’s song described as a ‘giddy love song’. With a quick beat and a breathless, sometimes abrupt delivery, that seems like an apt description for the quick little number.

Stay strong, be positive, lean forward, and vote blue if you’re’n the U.S. and a citizen, etc. Coffee has been served. French roast. Here’s Beach Bunny. Cheers

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