Category: miscellaneous

Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: chill

Good morning, fellow travelers. It’s Sunday, October 8, 2023.

Indian summer continues in Ashlandia, where the people are mostly progressive, and concern about climate change continues to rise. Today’s weather looks just like yesterday’s with sunshine and blue sky continuing its autumn takeover. Temperatures range from 56 F in the morning to 87 F in the afternoon’s final hours. I am very happy about it and hope it doesn’t end soon.

A friend’s seventieth birthday was celebrated at her house yesterday. She has two sons. It was her sons and her son’s husband, along with her other son’s boyfriend, who planned and hosted the bash.

She’s a retired botanish. As such, the taught botany at California and Oregon colleges and universities. She also worked with the forest service extensively. Naturally, that life work and its locations were dominated the guest list. Many Phds attended. Professors, BLM and forest service people were plentiful. Botanists dominated.

Let me tell you, these botanist are engaging, charming people. They love to have a good life. So we all had a good time.

The party defined The Neurons’ music selection today. I have “Get A Haircut” by George Thorogood and the Destroyers circulating in the morning mental music stream. Released in 1992, the song tells the story of a long-haired fellow who keeps receiving the advice to cut his hair and find real employment working nine to five. Thorogood didn’t write the song; that was done by Bill Birch and David Avery. Thorogood heard it while in Australia and liked it because it pretty well defined exactly what he was hearing.

The Neurons began playing it because I asked many people last night about their jobs. I enjoy drawing people on these things. For example, one woman had retired after thirty years as a librarian, even though she’d been educated to be an urban planning. After receiving her degrees, she decided that she didn’t want to be involved with urban planning. But a job was needed to pay bills, so she applied for a job as a part-time librarian. Its order and structure appealed to her. This was back in the days when people, organizations, and businesses would call the library for help on research. She especially enjoyed that. That job is rarely needed these days because corporations bought or developed their own databases, and the Internet emerged. Just fascinating to hear her recount as the slow change in her job took place over the final twenty years.

Stay pos, be strong, and keep reaching for the stars. Here’s the music. Let me go find coffee. Cheers

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The Organic Machine Dream

I had a plethora of dreams last night. This was one of the more interesting to me.

I was a younger man. I looked and acted like I was in my thirties, thirty years plus younger than my real life age. But I looked like myself from that time, tanned, thick brown hair, fit and sender.

Life was keeping me busy and active, reading, writing, playing softball and racquetball, hurrying around, doing errands and talking to people.

During all of that, I came to meet someone. I can’t describe them because I never saw them. Nor can I tell you how they sounded because I heard them, but they were speaking and not speaking.

They had interrupted what I was doing to tell me that I was part of a machine. Confusion was my reaction. Further explanations followed that they had created a machine which was wholly organic. I asked them if the were aliens but I don’t recall an answer to that question.

At that point, though, I was busy and just wanted to get on with everything and hustled off. Later, I stopped to get coffee. They accosted me to say again that I was part of the machine. I didn’t understand what they’d said, and asked for clarification. They launched a long and detailed explanation that they were using humans for many features in an organic machine which they’d created, and that I was one of two individuals who’d been selected as the brains.

While flattered, I thought they could have made a better choice for their brain than me, and told them so.

They countered that the functioning they needed from me was far above my conscious thinking level, or the subconscious. I first asked if drinking coffee with caffeine would affect the brain and the machine, and joked about their machine getting hyper from too much caffeine.

They answered that none of that affected it because the brain function they were employing was beyond an organic level.

That prompted me to retort, “Your organic machine is using parts of humans which aren’t organic?” I laughed at that.

They seriously responded, “Yes.”

I asked them if they were talking about the Id, ego, and super-ego, trying to comprehend it. They replied that it was beyond those levels as well, pushing me to ask what was beyond that level?

They asked me if I wanted to see the machine. Enthusiastially, I replied, “Sure.”

“You’re standing in it,” they replied.

Confusion and suspicions squirted up in me. I’d been outside, among trees and buildings, cars, utility wires, streets, and businesses. Now I was in a glistening pink edifice with tall, vaulted areas, reminding me of the inside of a pink church.

“How did I get here?” I asked.

“You were always here.”

That made me think of the movie, The Matrix. Before I could speak, they asked if I wanted to see my part.

“Yes.”

They told me to go further in. Not feeling anything but curiosity, I did, walking until I reached an intersection. Ahead were two pink tubes, which reminded me of short smokestacks. Five feet tall, they were about two feet in diameter.

“Where do I go now?” I asked.

“That’s it, you’re here. You’re the brain on the left.”

I looked at tubes. “Those are brains?”

“Yes, they just need the energy. We wanted to tell you and show you because as your brain changes, our brain will grow more powerful. As it grows more powerful, you will become more intelligent and powerful, and then, so will it. As each of you change and grow, you’ll feed the other. We thought you should be aware of that”

Dream end.

I have no idea what this dream was about. I woke up feeling surprised. Thinking about the dream, I concluded, “That was different.” I wanted to just dismiss it but instead felt compelled to keep thinking about it, as though I was preparing for more to come. Intrigued, part of me thinks, wow, some power is informing me that I’m going to go through great changes. A more cynical aspect thinks that’s highly dubious; it’s just random neurons firing parts of my brain as I sleep.

I’ll let you know if more of the dream ever does come.

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Sunday’s Wandering Thoughts

A woman in the coffee shop accosted me today. We’re both regulars. We see each other there, sometimes nodding. I’m always at a table, using a table to write. She’s a few years older than me and typically buys something to eat, checks her phone, and reads a book.

Today, we said hello. I was in the midst of revising a page. She asked, “I notice you always a wear a green hat.”

I do; it’s a Tilly. I nodded.

“Is there a reason for why you wear it?”

Deeply seriously, I replied, “Yes. It has a foil lining built into it.”

Puzzlement folded into her expression. “A foil lining?”

“Yes, you know, to protect me.”

She studied me. I think she was trying to decide if I was joking. Smiling and nodding, I returned to my writing.

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The Dream of Getting Lost

This dream began with my wife naked in front of me. She was on her knees in a room when I walked in. We flirted and I began kissing her and nibbling her ear lobes. She said, “Let’s move this into the other room.” Aroused and ready, I agreed.

We went into the other room, which was the living room. She said, “I’ll be right back.”

While she was gone, I stripped off my clothes. When she returned, she was fully dressed and had two other women with her. I knew both of them.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

My wife replied, “My book club is arriving.”

Well, that took me aback but I didn’t feel like now was the time to discuss it. Discreetly, I made my way out.

Dressing in the other room, I took off through the local area. It turned out to be a village built on several hills thick with pine and oak trees. The roads were narrow and winding, but I was enjoying my walk.

Going up a steep hill, I found a huge border of tall, trimmed bushes. Slipping through them, I discovered myself at a palatial estate.

A young boy approached. He seemed like he was ten years old. We briefly tossed a baseball back and forth. He told me that this was his house and invited me in to see it. “It’s like a museum,” he finished.

My curiousity had grown. The house presented a huge, jumbled, modern appearance of arches and glass, with multiple types of materials finishing the facade, complementing the many large, dark windows.

I entered the house with him. The boy was right; the first room we entered was tall and broad. Art and aniquities filled the space. Walking around, I gawked at art pieces. Several were Picasso pieces, from the cubist and blue periods. I was astounded to find them in a house in a small village and thought the people who owned the property must be very wealthy.

The boy who was my host had left. Nervous about being alone there, I was accosted by a woman coming down a large spiral staircase. Brunette, slender, not tall, and very attractive, she wore blue jeans and a red top. She seemed to be about the same age as me.

“Who are you?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”

I explained why I was there. Her son came down and verified my story. Nervous, I decided to leave. She protested that I didn’t need to leave. We began walking around, looking at art and antiques. Standing very close to me, she told about how they came to own the pieces. Acting on impulse, I kissed her.

I prepared to be slapped or rush out, and apologize. In response, she took my hand behind a screen and kissed me. I was both excited and worried. She kept leading me into nooks and niches, kissing me and encouraging my advances.

Then her son said, “Hi, Dad.”

I was horrified that the woman’s husband was with us. Dressed in black slacks and a white shirt, he was silver haired with black streaks, slightly taller than myself, and a few years older.

The woman introduced me to him. I thought any dalliance with the woman was over, but she continued leading me to secluded places, where we made out with teenagers. I saw the husban suspiciously eyeing me. Not wanting a confrontation, I left.

The wife caught up with me outside and gave me her number, asking me to call her so we can meet and finish what we started. I was dubious. The whole thing was crazy. I left her without promising anything but kept the number, sticking it into a pocket.

Darkened skies had taken over while I inside. Now going up another hill past throngs of people shopping in many small shops and boutiques, I remembered that a book store was up the hill and headed there to buy a book for my wife. After chatting with the owner, I purchased the book and headed down another stretch of hill. It was later and darker, and I wasn’t sure where I was. Thinking I knew a shortcut, I took a few turns.

I ended up completely lost in a maze of small white shops along an alley. Big raindrops began striking me and splattering along the ground. Stopping at a bakery, I bought pastries for me and my wife. The rain intensified while I was in the bakery. As I opened the door to leave, the shopkeeper urged me to stay inside until the rain stopped.

I declined. Going out, I was quickly drenched. I still didn’t know where I was and kicked myself for not asking for directions at the bakery. I kept going, though, believing that I would find my way. It didn’t help that the sun was behind clouds, and the rain was so thick that I couldn’t see far.

Then, unexpectedly, I saw two trees and knew where I was. Seeing my house, I hurried to the covered front porch. Sopping wet, I stood on the porch, ate a pastry, and watched the rain as dusk heralded night’s entrance.

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: introspective

Sunshine glistens off a wet, clean sheen, complementing the air’s fresh smell with sigh-inducing vigor. Fall has been good to Ashlandia, so far. That could present further clues about why I like it. Summer in our zone becomes damaging. Blazing sun takes over, cooking the plants. Temperatures lunge into the nineties toward triple digits. Sweat pours off us as the heat broils us. Wildfires light up as summer lightning strikes parched vegetation. Smoke spreads, clotting our lungs and stinging our eyes.

Come fall, with soothing, “there, there” damp temperatures, the world relaxes; we the people relax with it. In my perfect world, I’d have fall weather but with the long stretch of daylight seen in the summer. That’s where fall fails me, as orbits and planes shift, moving the sun away from us, shortening the daylight.

Temperatures today will operate in a narrow zone. 56 F now, cloudy, 66 F later, with rains coming and going throughout the day.

A bevy of tunes fell into the morning mental music stream (Tradement teasing). Dreams sparked these. Such a myriad of wild, long dreams were experienced. The Neurons just rode the current. The song which ended up on top was “Who Can It Be Now?” by Men At Work from the 1980s.

It’s a true Aussie new wave sound. The part which The Neurons linked to a dream is a line, “It’s not the future that I can see, it’s just my fantasy.” That’s a true beat to my waking mind dealing with the dream mind.

Stay pos and hydrated, be strong and push forward. I can and will with help from my little dark friend steaming in a large mug. Here’s the music. Let’s enjoy some life. Cheers

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On Becoming A Geezer

For a friend…

Becoming a geezer, if I may be so bold,

is more about a state of mind than growing old.

Geezers look back on time with misty eyes,

lamenting the lack of truth and the growth of lies.

They’ll disparage the young — “This generation” —

they say with a grunt and a sniff,

“Does so little no wonder the country’s adrift.

“The way it used to be is so much better,

“Like communicating with loved ones with a postage letter.

“And the things which they watch,

“The things which they say,

“The way that they dress —

“That’s not my way.”

Then they break off with a mumble and words which aren’t clear,

And say to the server, “Please bring me another beer.”

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Another Space Traveling Dream

I again went through the space traveling dream.

This is a continuing dream series. I’ve blogged about it before three times, but I didn’t mention several other episodes, and the series fell out of fashion. Like a new TV show season, the series returned last night.

In the space traveling dream series, I’m in my house, but it’s traveling in space on an alien spaceship. I’ve never seen or heard the aliens behind this, as far as I know.

When I awaken from these, I’m often confused about where I’m at and what’s going on. Although in the very first dream space traveling dream, I thought it was cool to be in my house being transported by aliens through space. I never thought I’d make it to space, yet here I was.

Last night’s dream event was recalled when I awoke in my home office. I’d fallen asleep in a recliner while streaming the first season of Justified. Awakening, the streaming service had stopped streaming, a feature set when it’s been going awhile, so the television was silent. I was alone; Tucker had been asleep on my lap, but he’d left.

Bewilderment washed over me. I was confused about where I was. Some anxiety splashed up about forgetting to do things. I scrambled to think what I thought I should have done that I neglected. Was it about charging devices? Going somewhere? Feeding the cats?

No; it was about kitty litter. What was it about kitty litter? Oh, it was missing.

But wait; aren’t I on the alien ship? Does the alien ship have kitty litter? Do we need kitty litter in space, or is something else out there? I didn’t understand what I was thinking there, but then began worrying about kitty litter being in space’s weak gravity. I imagined it floating around, polluting the air, maybe damaging systems. Except, I was in my house, and there was gravity, so there shouldn’t be a problem, right?

Except, was the whole house there? I panicked, thinking the aliens had carried my office away from the rest of the house. Scrambling out of the office, I found the house intact beyond the door.

I wanted to look out a window for the alien spaceship. I never have seen it; I always imagine the house resting on the outside hull, which is dark as a lightless night. I have no evidence for believing that, and don’t know how it’s connected to the alien ship. Yet, I also think that if I want to, I could go into the alien ship.

Coming up on two AM, I felt it was time to hit the bed.

The thing about this, it took a lot longer to write what transpired than it took to think, panic, and scramble. It was like, from the dream, I was thinking that I was somewhere that I didn’t expect to be and then had to solve the mystery of where I was and what I was meant to do.

Hitting the bed, Tucker joined me after a few minutes. Comforting sleep was rediscovered once again.

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Two Dream Moments

I had two dreams last night which are remembered. Both were extremely brief.

In the first, I saw a large headline blaring on a screen, “FORMER PRESIDENT TRUMP IS DEAD!” Don’t know what media source it was supposed to be, but utter shock went through me when I saw it. Below the headline was a black and white photograph of DJT. Then I recognized that the screen was angled in green grass like a tilted tombstone. That was all.

Awakening, I thought about it for some time. When I mentioned it to a friend later, he said that someone had hacked Trump’s son’s X account and posted something about Trump being dead. I wondered if I’d heard or seen the story in passing without realizing, and it manifested as part of the dream. Of course, Trump being dead would launch conspiracy ideas and rip through the GOP’s structure like a Force 5 tornado. Guesses about the end results went all over the place when I spoke about it with friends, including prophecies of violence, and the impact on financial markets; would the US be viewed as safer and more stable with him deceased? It’s easy to speculate that it could go either way.

Of course, as it’s a dream, it could also just be wishful thinking in my head about how much the man bothers me with what he says. For example, I rose this morning and read the news that he’s urging his party to defund the parts of the legal systems which are taking him to trial, claiming that these are political persecutions. As others pointed out, such a spending proposal by the House would might difficulties finding their way into law past the Senate where Dems rule, or past President Biden’s desk. So his proposal is pretty empty but it stirs up the fires of his base, doesn’t it?

Second dream, similarly brief, had me walking outside through short, dark green grass. Shiny things in the grass hooked my attention. Drifting toward the first, I found a half buried silver dollar. I easily pulled it free from the earth. As I reckoned what it was, I saw several more. Collecting them, I realized it was hill full of half-buried silver dollars. As I collected them in delight, I wondered what I should do with them — keep them or turn them in somewhere — and how they got there. No one else was in sight, nor were buildings, cars, or paths. I concluded, they must have somehow fallen from the sky.

I was really excited, though, taking them for signs of impending good fortune. That lifted my energy and reinvigorated determination to do things. I guess I need to make it so, number one.

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A Lion Dream

A lion dream that left me breathless was experienced last night. I was in a village which seemed to be on an island. Small cottages and huts were built in the jungle around a small stream that fed into the ocean. Going left, I’d come out on the beach, and then, there was the ocean.

Well, on this day, I walked around a hut alongside the stream, when I stopped in shock; on the other side of the stream, where the jungled abutted the beach, was a sleeping male lion. He was huge.

Terror and worry struck me like a lightning bolt. Backing up in a frenzy, I tried warning others about the lion, fearing it would awaken and attack us. Then children saw the lion and screamed. Awakened, the lion crossed the stream and headed for me. I at once wanted it to come after me so it wouldn’t get others but also didn’t want to be gotten. Trying to get away, I couldn’t get any traction in the sound. The huge lion came right up on me.

It began pawing my leg, but in a friendly manner. Then it sniffed and licked me. I calmed down but remained doubtful that this lion just wanted to be my friend, but that’s exactly what it seemed to be. Relaxing, I let the lion come up beside me, standing still as it rubbed its head and face on my hip.

Awakening reflections, I thought, I must be needlessly fearful and worried about something. Later, I sorted through what the could be, but it’s a long and complicated list, one I don’t want to share with the world.

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Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

Meeting my sisters again, I reflected on happiness and success. Each sister has demonstrated at one time or another that they seemed supremely happy and successful only to have disaster, devastation, upheaval, foisted on them, forcing them to begin again. It’s always a journey. You can find and lose it all repeatedly. Learning to keep your balance as it swirls around you remains key to me.

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