Category: memories

Sunday’s Theme Music

Hearing the pursuit, we ran hard. “In here,” Pretzel shouted on my left. I twisted, planted my foot and made the cut, following him into a small path.

We crowded in panting like the sprinters we’d been. “What is this?” Maylie asked.

“I think it’s a time machine,” C-Jean said.

Don’t know about the rest but I did a mental, oh shit. “Don’t touch anything. We got to get out of here.”

“Oops,” Pharslei said.

The machine vibrated for two seconds. Ping, it said, like we were a done nuked meal.

“Where are we?” Maylie asked.

“Not where,” Pretzel said. “When. Time machine, itz. When are we?”

Sunday, April 23, 2016, it said. “Shit,” someone said.

The numbers blinked. April 20, 1623. Still Sunday. “I’m going to go see,” Pretzel announced.

“No,” I said, “Hold up.” That was the last I saw of him, though, going out that door.

Last I saw of any of them. Machine now said, April 16, 2023.

I left the booth. It vanished behind me. Tepid sunshine washed my face. Mostly I saw cloud layering like stacked grays. Still seemed like Ashlandia’s green deep valley, at least.

The Neurons have filled the morning mental music stream with “Where Have All the Good Times Gone”. Went with the Kinks’ original song from ’65. Fit with my state of mind. Shopping this morning, it seemed like such a dirge. Everyone shopper I eyed semed to be thinking, “I wish I was anywhere else.” Shopping has never been a leisure pursuit for me but it kicked my thinking down a memory path which lodged up against the question, where have all the good times gone? Follow up was, what constituted a good time?

Stay pos. I know, sometimes it’s touch. Feels like the world is on your shoulders, and it’s putting on more weight every second. Coffee helps me. Coffee; it’s what’s for breakfast.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Satitday’s Theme Music

The pull out of a late winter and snowy sub-seasons of winting and sprinter continues in Ashlandia, where the coffee houses rule. It’s Satitda, a reflection of how I sometimes hear Saturday spoken, April 15, 2023. Would’ve been payday for me in another era, a chance to spend some rubles on a treat, tank up the car, buy grocs, pay more bills. We always paid the bills, watched our expenses, and saved.

Pretty fine day out there, as it was yesterday. Tucker is out nesting in sunshine between bushes, as he did yesterday. Papi selected to come in, deciding grooming on the bed is preferable to the noisy outside where trees are being trimmed or removed at a neighbor’s place. Sunshine has won the morning. It’s a blue-sky 42 F but the weather managers say it’ll be 66 before the daylight segment of our day is drawn down. Sunrise was 6:30 AM and the sun ‘set’ will be at 7:52 PM. No rain for us today. No snow, either.

I have an old blues song circulating my morning mental music stream. It’s all about options and how to get out of a situation. “One Way Out” was recorded by some classic bluesmen but I didn’t hear of their versions until later. Nope, I know the Allman Brothers’ live offering from the early seventies. Part of this way out convo was about talking over some Am I The Asshole entries on Reddit and what people should do. Another take on one way out was while catering to the cats: “This is it. I’m not going to go open another door. There’s one way out right now, and this is it.” The little critters accepted and The Neurons tugged “One Way Out” from memory and here we are.

Stay pos. Enjoy your day as best as you can. I’m going to try to get some things done. More editing, of course, but also some cleaning duties and yard work. I shall begin my list by inhaling a fragrant cuppa coffee. Here’s the tune.

Cheers

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Rideday’s Theme Music

April 14, 2023 emerged, handsome in a classic spring style, blue skies, soft air, an icy flair in his demeanor. “I shall call myself Rideday,” he said. “Cuz I will go on a ride. I will ride until the day’s end. I will let it ride.” So Rideday it is.

The mark was marked 6:29 this morning when the sun bathed Ashlandia with its first rushes. Earth plans to move us from the sun at 7:52 this evening. Though it’s 38 F now, the weather counters say we’ll see 68 F before Earth does its thing. No precipitation is planned although clouds plan a surprise appearance.

The latest intel leak disturbs me. Worked with classified materials in almost of all my twenty-plus year military career. War plans, comm crypto, launch codes, and intel from all manner of source. Never talked to people outside those with a need to know and clearance. Never photographed any or it or took it home. Didn’t even freaking consider it. But some idiot decides I’m going to take some home and photograph it and share it with my online friends. WTF, over?

The thing about our system, while we have checks and balances, it mostly depends on people knowing, understanding, and enforcing the rules. Then it depends upon their integrity and ethics. We’ve seen this approach several times this year. First, by a former POTUS who doesn’t want to give it up, who twists all the guidance to make it seem like he’s done nothing wrong. Then, by a POTUS who, in previous capacities, left the classified elsewhere and forget it. Now we have someone who wanted to impress friends.

I can understand some of the first — it’s his personality — and the second, though both piss me off. But the third? I’ve heard of people leaking classified for ideological and financial reasons but this is new one is an ugly low. Been a bad few years for classified. I will tell you this: much of the classified I saw during my years was overclassified. Much of it was pretty damn boring. Like, what the Apollo astronauts were eating for breakfast, which was almost verbatim given on the news before I saw the docs that day. Don’t worry, it’s been declassified.

The weather view outside the window stirred The Neurons. They said, “I got a song for this.” No shit, I answered. “Surprise me.”

They did.

After rummaging through the brain, they came up with one from 1969. By a group called Vanity Fare, the song is “Early in the Morning”. I laughed when they plugged it into the morning mental music stream. Don’t think I heard it in decades. Not the sort of sound which generally attracted me, it was one of those ubiquitous AM staples back in that era. I think more people are familiar with Vanity Fare’s other song, “Hitchin’ A Ride”.

Well, be a pos peep today and every day. Know it’s tough sometimes. I feel it, too. I don’t just coffee up and power on, but indulge in some self-pity and self-examination, dribble a few sighs, and then coffee up and move on. Or try. Sometimes, moving on is an event.

Here’s the tune. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Tumblings

Tuesday’s Ashlandia by the numbers. 041123, 41/55 F, 6:34/7:48. Rain showers took the night. More rain visitations are anticipated for today.

It’s smelling and feeling like spring outside. Temperatures pushed up to a glorious 74 degrees F. Foamy white clouds ring the blue bowl over Ashlandia. Snow still stands on patches of the surrounding mountains but a green world and blue sky dominate.

I complained to friends about my weather forecast irritation. One responded with a story out of The Atlantic about how/why apps fail to provide satisfying and consistently accurate forecasts. Embedded in the tale was a site called forecastadvisor.com. This site tells what apps and sources are most and least accurate in their forecasts by percentage of days. Good data to gobble.

John Mellencamp was selected by The Neurons for residency in today’s morning mental music stream. Song is “The Real Life”. 1987. Went to a concert for that album, Lonesome Jubilee. Germany. Song came up from the mental vaults due to reflections on what is meant by living a real life? Seems like a definite spectrum to that answer, which changes by age, experiences, and circumstances. I feel like I’ve found my real life spending time in isolation, writing, editing, posting, corresponding. Others would disagree, chiding me for ‘not doing anything, not going anywhere, not being social’. I can debate with them whether that is ‘the real life’. Farmers might tell you the real life is all about growing things. Parents might say it’s about raising children who become adults and raise more children who become adults ad infinitum. I’ve heard others state that living the real life means helping others.

Here’s the song. Stay pos and live the real life, whatever you decide that is for you for now. My real life definitely involves coffee so I’m off to the kitchen. Cheers

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Saturday’s Wandering Thought

He remembered the time someone he loved told him that she hated him.

Burned like a hot knife across his back. Sickened like food poisoning. He thought she loved him.

The hatred on her face.

The way she crushed the words.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

The house floofs are displeased. That makes them a bit aggro. ‘Tis windy out there, they complain to me. Turn the wind off. I would if I could, kitties, although let me note that winds help the ecosystem. “So you’re not stopping the wind,” they confirmed, and stalked off to sing the blues.

It’s Thursday, April 6, 2023, 48 degrees F., dry with rain coming our way, not too long for now, judging from the uniform gray cloud mass blotting out sun and blue sky from horizon to horizon. 56 F will be our high. Sun shuffles out of the Ashlandia neighborhood at 7:42 Ashlandia Evening Time, while it rose at 6:45.

Could all be worse, yep. Caught by a headline, “478 tornado reports across 25 states: How a mild winter led to destruction”, I read about tornadoes and their destruction in several states. It’s interesting in talking with friends and fam in the northeastern USA that they had a mild winter, not much snow except for a few storms. We in the Pacific Northwest were coping with them it seems. Ah, that’s weather.

I was checking news on Yahoo to mix it up. I like picking random news sites to see what’s being reported around the world. I’m not impressed with Yahoo – haven’t been in a long time – which is why they’re not a regular. After reading Yahoo headlines and clicking to some stories, I read a Dallas newspaper (online) before their paywall blocked me, and FOX59 from Indianapolis.

With tornado stories and the wind whistling past the house here, I suppose it’s natural that The Neurons channeled wind-influenced songs to the morning mental music stream. Last up was “You’re Only Human (Second Wind)” by Billy Joel from 1985. It narrowly beat out “Dust in the Wind”, “They Call the Wind Maria”, and “Candle in the Wind”. Have any preferred winds song on your end, other than Spinal Tap’s “Break Like the Wind”?

Stay pos and be cool. Hope Thursday lives up to your hopes and dreams. The cats have settled. Coffee and lemon cake have arrived. Here’s the tune. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

It’s snowing. Snowed last night, too. Snow accumulated, slipshod in the quantity and depths. Two inches on the house’s northern side. Barely there on the south. Nevertheless, snow in an accumulation has the floofstamp of disapproval. Wind has picked up, too, a double bogey for the cats. There is sunshine but feels like an imitation of actual sunshine, not much glow to its shine, and little heat.

I watch the dogwalkers shuffle past, dogs on leashes behind them. The dogs seem to want to continue smelling and investigating but their stony-faced people want none of that, tugging on leashes, urging the pooches, come on. The dogs particularly like my front bushes, where the cats go in and out of the yard. I see dogs draw up and turn back, expression lively as they hustle back, asking themselves, hey, what’s that smell? That smells interesting. But the unsmelling people pull them on before more than a few olfactory cells can be indulged.

It’s April 3, 2023, for the record. Monday. Up to 34 F now. 28 was our low last night, a very un-Ashlandian spring night, what with snow gently covering the plants. Clouds throng like coeds on a spring break beach. Rain is expected, and a high of 42 F before the sun sashays over the horizon at 7:40 this evening.

A song emerged from people watching while shopping yesterday. A young blonde girl in big rubber boots followed Mom as Mom shopped and talked about what she needed. The girl, who seemed about six in this reporter’s guess, had a blank stare and was totally unengaged. This prompted The Neurons to power up Mick and the Stones with a 1978 country-western song they wrote and performed called “Far Away Eyes”. I heard it off the album, Some Girls, when it was released. Over twenty years later, I discovered a video of it and had a good laugh at Mick’s performance. Found it for you this morning.

Stay pos. Hope your day has begun well and just keeps getting better, and that’s not meant in a sarcastic way. I have coffee, so I’m pretty set for the next five minutes. Here are the Stones. Cheers

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Sunday’s Wandering Thought

He was at the coffee shop. Two men of his age were at the next table. They were trying to remember war movies and their stars, and struggling. He passed on telling them who was in The Great Escape, The Longest Day, Where Eagles Dare, and The Bridge at Remagen. Surprising that he could easily remember all that stuff, he remarked to himself, pleased. Just one of those days.

But he had to step up to the other table when they couldn’t recall the name of the movie with Clint Eastwood, Donald Sutherland, Don Rickles, and Telly Selvales. “Kelly’s Heroes,” he finally called out.

“Thank you,” they answered.

He nodded. “Welcome.” Just doing his civic duty.

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Disappointed and relieved. We’ve had days of buildup about this storm on the way. Well, unlike the Feb & March storms, this one didn’t bother us. Not even on the nearby mountains. Still doesn’t feel like spring out there, though.

It’s 43 F today, Sunday, April 2, 2023. Sunlight is being shy but the clouds have gathered like a clowder of kittens hearing the kibble coming out. High will be 48 F, the weather oracles tell us. I think it might get higher, like 50. A few degrees make a difference in Ashlandia.

I dreamed about cats of my past last night. We — my wife and I — were in the white BMW 2002 we drove in Germany. Pulling off the road, we stopped. We were looking for somewhere, so we got out, asking, “Is this it?” It was a little wiggle of an asphalt road, working through ups and downs between older houses. Suddenly, many floof friends who graced us with their presence appeared, meowing greetings our way. Little Quinn, the fluffy furred gray black foot, was directly behind me when cats we didn’t know emerged and raced toward us. One was a diluted tortie, dashing right for us and Quinn. But tail up, they gave my leg a broadside of fur and went on to Quinn. The two greeted each other like familiars, as did all the cats, presently me with happiness. I mentioned it to my wife but she was walking away, my words unnoticed.

Today’s song is from 1971, by a gifted singer and songwriter named John Prine, who passed from COVID back in 2020. “Hello In There” is about aging and life changes. The Neurons brought it back to me as I watched people at the coffee house and on the streets. Some seemed very old. Now I might be considered old by some, like my wife. She is a year younger than me as she doesn’t fail to remind me. I’m 67.75 years old but as my Mom once answered me when I pointed out that she was getting elderly, “I’m talking about really old people, like 90, or 100.” That was a few years ago. Mom is almost to that age now. Like many, I’m a different age inside, 38 for me. But watching the other folks established in years passing by and pursuing activities, the John Prine song heard in my youth surfaced.

Stay pos and make this Sunday what you want. It’s writing, reading, and shopping for moi. I shall begin with coffee. Here’s the music. It’s a Sunday morning piece, a quiet offering for contemplation.

Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Backed by a crackled blue and white sky, a plethora of sunshine baths us in Ashlandia. Temperature is 38 F on this penultimate March day, Thursday the 30th, 2023. Thursday the 30th sounds like some ruler or noble. “She is Thursday the 30th,” they whispered as she went by. “She’s not often seen.”

No rain is expected for today. Nor snow or high winds. Fingers crossed, knocked on wood. A winter warning is out for the second day of April. Lovely stars were out last night, glowing with faraway secrets.

Friends and I met for beers and discussions last night. While most of our discussion focused on newts, we also talked about the area’s weather. All agreed, it’s been pretty freaky in 2023. One noted, it started like 2020, a dry year, and then we had a late/early spring surge of precipitation. Our snowpack stands at 138% of average for this time of year. Reservoirs remain low but they’re normally filled by snow melt and runoff.

Meanwhile, Ashlandia snow is an intriguing phenomenon. I’m on the southern end, about 1800 feet, and we get heavy doses of snow but it usually keeps its visits short. Those on the northern end and lower levels see much less snow. One guy lives on the southern end but up at 2500 feet, and sees much more significant snow levels than the rest of the Ashlandians. Two people live further northwest, on the valley floor, and rarely see snow. We’re not talking about a large area, but it’s a valley surrounded by mountains.

I had a feline visitor in our front yard. Didn’t know the floof but they seemed well-fed and confident and appeared familiar with the neighborhood. They strode up the drive and walk, and then encountered Tucker, whereupon they skulked off, a stalking Tucker six feet behind. Once they left Tucker’s yard, Tucker sat and groomed in the sunshine, pleased with his victory.

Naturally, Les Neurons have flung a Thursday song into the morning mental music stream. This is a David Bowie song called “Thursday’s Child” from 1999. The song begins, “All of my life I’ve tried so hard,” which is something many of can probably relate, so I stayed to listen the first time I heard it. But I think this is one of those songs better served by watching a video. Looking in the mirror, reflecting on who you are now and who you were is something I have definitely done. The video’s end is the sharpest moment for me.

Stay pos. Have a refreshing Thursday. I’m having refreshing coffee, hot and black, unfettered by flavors except coffee. Here’s David with his song. Cheers

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