Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Cofoptimism (optimism fed by coffee)

Today is Wednesday, Feb. 14. 2024, my fellow travelers. Which means Valentine’s Day. You probably haven’t heard about this little-known holiday. Invented to sell more jewelry, candy, flowers, and cards while increasing liquor and restaurant business. According to a 2017 ABC News piece, Valentine’s Day spending in that year topped $136 per person on average.

Sadly for my partner, my romantic tendencies withered away long ago. She accepts that with acidic humor, but accepts. Although she doesn’t cop to remembering this, she told me in our first years of marriage not to buy her Valentine’s Day Gifts. I was hurt, and I remember. She bought a bag of Dove dark chocolate hearts and made little gift bags for her friends. They were passed out after exercise class this morning; she said she’s celebrating ‘Galentine’s Day’, because, “We gals don’t need men.” Her gay friends are included. She cracks me up. BTW, I did buy her a gift last year, some lovely little earrings which she likes. Or claims to. She does wear them. We did go out to dinner last night, too.

Rainy, cloudy, and chilly are today’s descriptors. Temperature is 44 F and it’s not going much higher. In the give and take between winter and spring, and their offspring, sprinter, winter has asserted its presence.

The rain is keeping the housepainters away. They are very close to having our house done. It’s a welcome break, because they’ve been by the house almost every day for almost two weeks. The cars also appreciate it, because they can relax and behave ‘normally’. Well, Papi can. Tucker has been reasonably unaffected by the painters. Just his nature. Meanwhile, we’ve been keeping them in at night because, cougar. Papi is generally displeased by this development but I assuage his mood by giving him a treat when he wants out. He eats that and goes off and sleeps. Knock on wood that this strategy continues working without him becoming a chunkofloof.

Lot of interesting and exciting political news today. Maybe it’s just my natural optimism rising or I’m being naive, but my confidence for a Biden re-election victory is rising. Fingers crossed, etc.

The Neurons didn’t have anything loaded into the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). I don’t know what’s wrong with them. On vacation? Sleeping in? Hungove? I don’t know. After some thinking as I fed the cats and myself, I thought I’d share Madonna’s 1990 song (written by Lenny Kravitz), “Justify My Love”. Returning from a four-year tour of Germany with the military, I saw the video for it when I was in a hotel at my new base the following February (1991) and thought, holy cow, or something like that.

But then I came across this thing on Facebook, so I’m instead sharing Taylor Swift and Phoebe Buffay (Lisa Kudrow) performing “Smelly Cat”. This song was featured on a television sitcom called “Friends”. “Smelly Cat” was introduced to the show in 1995, and was regularly performed several years after that. It’s a humours little piece.

Stay positive, remain strong, lean forward, and vote when the opportunity arises. I will do the same. Now, back to drinking coffee for me. Here’s the music. Cheers

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: jubtimism. (Yes, that’s a weird combo of jubilant and optimistic, weird in face of the dark news that keeps spitting in my face.)

Hey to all who are doing time with me on the third rock. Today is Tuesday, Feb. 13, 2024. Completely gray on gray today, again, with sunshine shifting and sliding through cloud breaks when it can. Daffs have broken out to spread their color across the sprinter landscape. 50 F now, no snow on the ground in the valley or nearby peaks. If you need to see some snow, hop onto I5 and drive a few miles south to Mt. Ashland. If you don’t turn off for Mt Ashland but keep going toward California, Mt. Shasta, just fifty miles away, will present a postcard image for you as the Interstate rises and falls.

I watched the Super Bowl last Sunday and saw some NFL commercials about bullying. That woke up some Neurons, who came up with a 1989 Chris Rea song, “The Road to Hell”, and have it playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). See, these big NFL players quoted children and adults who were bullied. The survivors talked about facing daily fear. Terror. Likewise, we have this election campaign where fear and terror are being employed in lieu of policies or intelligent discourse. If Trump wins, he promised to be a dictator. Some of his followers tried overthrowing the election results back on Jan 6, 2021. They now promise greater violence if Trump loses, as do members of Congress who carry his water. Contrary to all presented facts and evidence, they insist that Trump win the 2020 election, but was cheated out of staying in office.

And now, facing all manner of trials and criminal charges, which seem to be stacking up, Trump wants to be declared immune from anything criminal he did while President. As the first judicial panel ruling on his claim noted, that would remove the POTUS from the checks and balances built into the Constitution. If that happened, what, beyond his character, would stop President Biden from saying, “Gosh, if Trump is immune, so am I.”

So there are fears out there for our democracy and republic. Hence, The Neurons pulled up the lines from Chris Rea’s 1989 song, “The perverted fear of violence chokes the smile off every face. Common sense is ringing out bells. This ain’t no technological breakdown. Oh, no. This is the road to hell.”

Sorry if I’m as dark as my coffee this morning. Been reading Rachel Maddow’s book, Prequel: An American Fight Against Fascism, yesterday and today. Illuminating, of course, but sometimes history can be depressing. She traces the efforts of paramilitary groups trying to end democracy in the US back in the 1930s to give fascism a chance. They worked under names like The Christian Front, the Silver Legion, and the American White Guard. These were lunatics with powerful friends, which aptly summarizes much of the MAGA movement and QAnon. In summary, both in the past and now, I didn’t realize that so many Americans harbored an authoritarian mindset. Being a Star Trek fan, I though boldly heading toward a new era of equality, freedom, and justice. I didn’t realize that a block of people exist who abhor those things.

On the flip side of my dark street, Jamie Lee Curtis’s performance as the matriarch in The Bear was powerful stuff. Yes, we’re just catching up with the second season. I’d heard about the hit series, and decided to check it out. Glad on did.

Also on the bright side, the house painting is moving closer to fini. That’s pretty darn exciting. Looking back, the project’s genesis was in the early months of 2020. We were just collecting names for bids when COVID landed and the shutdown commenced. In 2021, we moved toward getting quotes but supplies were limited because of supply chain issues in response to the COVID shutdown. Not much was done in 2022 about the painting because…(cough, cough) COVID. Finally, in 2023, quotes were gathered and agreements made, but the painting backlog pushed us back to this year.

I’ve had coffee, thanks. Be strong, remain positive, lean forward, and voOte. Register first, of course. Pitter patter, get ‘er at her. Here is Chris Rea with his slide guitar. Cheer

The Writing Moment

It’s hard to stop writing when it’s blistering along but the allocated time has skidded to an end. Difficult to push the pause button while editing and revising the other project when the timing bell rings to announce, move on to the next matter.

Doesn’t help that the muses are especially active, like they’ve been gorging on chocolate cake and chugging coffee. They just don’t want to stop and it pains me to tell them that I am.

I need a longer day or the means to carve time out of everything else going on. How much sleep is really needed anyway?

This Is Life

An email was forwarded to us by friends who live about two miles away. We’re toward Ashlandia’s southern perimeter, and they’re above the library downtown. It’s a small town.

Good morning HOA – I wanted to reach out and let you all know that the past 2 nights we have had a cougar in the neighborhood. Last night, it unfortunately killed our older cat. We also found a dead raccoon in our yard so I would urge you all to keep any pets inside at night if possible. The cougar seems to be especially active around dusk – It was hunting earlier in the evening yesterday just after 6pm and we had let our cat out without thinking it would be active so early.

It looks to be injured and we have seen it limping. It did not run away when we tried to shoo it away so be aware that if you are near it, it may not run away and may be more aggressive because it is injured and can’t run away easily.

We’re rural, not deeply populated or industrialized. Cougars and bears live in the area along with foxes and coyotes, raccoons, deer, etc. Of course, the cougars and bears are rarer that most of the others, wilder, and carnivores, so they get a sketch more attention than other critters. That it has killed someone’s pet makes me wince for the animal and its owner. Grudgingly I accept, this is part of life, and then my thoughts churn with worry about my own little housefloofs and how much they enjoy going outside.

We may need to revisit that policy.

Sunday’s Wandering Thoughts

My good ol’ Fitbit, which isn’t that old, actually — I’ll need to look that up — stopped working again.

First sign: at 9:15 this morning, it declared that I’d walked over 18,000 steps.

Had I been sleepwalking, I wondered? Chasing the cats, or saving them from a bear, cougar, or other beasts? Not that I recalled, and I believeI would have remembered that. So, must be something else.

Okay. I added resetting the Fitbit to my list of things to do but it was still nominally functioning, until, ‘lo, in the coffee shop, I tapped it for the time and got nada.

Well, I muttered in my mind. That sucks.

But what was really irritating was that, just a little later, as I wrapped up my reading day, I tapped my Fitbit to check the time.

Idiot! Habits are really difficult to stop.

The Writing Moment

I had a strong and productive writing session yesterday. But being so involved, my sense of time evaporated. I found myself leaving the coffee shop an hour later than usual.

I couldn’t go directly home, but had to go buy light bulbs. Finishing with that errand, I jumped into the car to head home. By now, I was an hour and a half later than usual.

My phone rang. It was my wife. “What’s up?” I asked.

“Where are you?” she answered. “You’re much later than your usual time. I’m calling to see if you’re dead or unconscious in a hospital.”

“You called to see if I was dead or unconscious?” I laughed.

She did not.

The Protection Dreams

My wife and I received another round of COVID=19 vaccinations yesterday. We agreed that one kicked us harder than the others.

We received them at 11 AM. Other than pain and stiffness at the injection site, all was going well. After meeting with friends for beers in the late afternoon, I returned home and exercised. Then, about 10 PM, it seemed like someone encased my body in concrete. My newfound stiffness stunned me. Reaching down, sitting down, standing up, movement of any kind was met with defiant resistance.

Next, cold invaded my body. It reminded me of being in Korea one winter. Heavy shivering gripped me. My hands and feet felt so cold, I stuck my hands down my shorts against my groin to warm them and gasped at the shock of my cold hands. I normally sashay through the house in gym shorts and a tee shirt. Now I applied additional layers, including socks. Socks! The indignation. Then came headaches and a mild fever. I woke up at one point soaked with sweat.

Meanwhile though, I dreamed when I slept. I was heading a horizon. Tall, dark walls were being erected. That’s my protection against COVID-19, I told myself. I had variations of that dream three times during the night. The walls were different each time. In the second dream, I said, “I need bigger, stouter walls, taller walls.” Someone — a male — replied, “They’re coming.”

All three of these dreams were short. They felt like they were less than a minute, and in each, it was only me, darkening skies, and protective walls.

A Dream Shard

Hearing something — can’t even saw what it was — today when I was in the coffee shop writing, I suddenly see a forgotten dream from last night. Really, just a shard. First person personal point of view, I’m driving in a car along a winding country highway. Leafy green trees blur by on either side. It sometimes seems like someone is with me but that’s inconsistent. I mostly seem to be alone.

Everything is going smoothly. I’m on a long road trip. Ahead is where I’m going to leave the country highway and jump onto the Interstate. The first road is climbing and turning. I split off. Cresting a ridge, the on-ramp veers left and goes down a steep hill and into intense banking as the ramp joins the Interstate and the Interstate goes left. Sunshine bathes the cars and roadway.

I won’t be on this road long, just a few miles. As I hit the banked curve and merge with the traffic, I press the brake pedal and recognize, I’m not slowing. Speed picks up despite greater pressure on the pedal. I announce, “I don’t have any brakes.” Someone in the other seat replies, “What?”

I repeat what I said and lean their way. But no one occupies the seat. I mutter, “I’m not on the road long. My exit is just ahead.” I can see it, a long, lean hill that ends at an intersection with a traffic light. “But I’m going to need to stop. I’ll add some brake fluid when I can. I think that’ll fix it. First, though, I need to stop.”

The car hits the exit ramp. It’s flying over bumps. Grinning, beginning to laugh, I kick out the floorboard. “Just do it like Fred Flintstone.” I put my feet down onto the cement road. Pressing the soles down with all my strength, I drag the car to a stop.

Dream end.

The Puzzle Dream

I thought of this as the puzzle dream but it could also be the cookie cutter dream, or the surprise flying dream.

Started, I was younger, in my early twenties, outside, part of a huge crowd of people, all about my age. They were passing out these white pieces that looked like plastic cookie cutters to me. Looking at it, I’m like, “What am I supposed to do with this?” No one close to me had any answers. Like me, they were regarding their piece with confusion.

But playing around with it, because that’s my nature, I discovered that I could make two pieces just by tugging on a side. That caused a new one to slide out while the original’s mass and structure didn’t change. Others were finding this, too. I wanted to know how many one piece could yield and soon found I had ten pieces. What the heck was I to do with them, though?

I thought the pieces were hard but since I could pull one piece out of another, I wondered if they were malleable, so I started twisted them and found, yeah, they were malleable. I could make them bigger or smaller. Someone else suggested, “Try putting them together.” I didn’t see a way at first but kept working it. Suddenly, I found that if I put two pieces edge to edge and then squeezed hard on the joined edge, they’d be one.

I rapidly began making more pieces, putting pieces together, and shaping them into something big. I had no idea what I was making. The shapes just pleased and interested me. What was boring was the color: these were all white, like, bright, refrigerator white. So tedious. I wanted to make them into another color.

A nearby female said something similar and then others spoke up, agreeing. Then a young man kind of gasped and said, “Look!” He’d changed a piece into red. We all asked, “How’d you do that?” He answered, “I don’t know.”

I started looking at mine and thinking as the others still questioned him. Holding a piece, I thought, blue, and it was immediately blue. The female who’d first mentioned the colors did the same, and we started talking about it. Then she and I and two other guys started putting pieces together from different sides, creating a four-sided thing together.

I wanted it bigger. Pulling my pieces back apart and explaining that to the rest, I asked some others to join us. We soon had a group putting pieces together on several sides, creating something big. Someone asked, “What is it?” My first thought was, “It’s a building.” Someone else said that, and another replied, “It’s a building that’s a city.”

Then I said, “No, it’s a spaceship.” I told them, “It’s a multi-generational spaceship so that we can live in space and travel to other parts of the universe.” Questions about it were asked of me and I answered, developing a greater vision of it as I did. People protested that it’s not big enough. I answered, “This is a model so that we can build the real thing after we figure it out.”

Then a man came by and told us, “Stay playing with the blocks.”

First, I didn’t think of them as blocks.

He continued, “Take this. I want you to learn out to use them.”

“Use them for what?” a woman asked.

“To fly,” the man answered.

The things he was passing out while talking were like plastic white shoelaces about ten inches long. Four of them were attached on one flat end so the strings were parallel to one another. I, like others, was skeptical. “We’re going to fly with these?”

“Yes. Twirl them over your head.” The man held up white streamer and twirled it over his head. “Just do it like that.”

I laughed, completely disbelieving of him. While others questioned him, “You twirled it and you’re not flying,” I twirled mine. They were more difficult to twirl than I expected. I kept changing my grip and trying different speeds. Suddenly I took off. As soon as I did, I stopped twirling, surprised by success, and dropped back to the ground. Others had seen and rushed over, demanding, “How did you do that?”

Dream end.

Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: flexible

Good day, humans. Rise and shine. Time to try again.

Monday has opened its eyes. Today is Feb. 5, 2024. Cloudy is today’s sky description. Wind has calmed; rain is on a break. 47 F now, 51is the suspected high, after an overnight low of 38 F.

Haven’t read much news this morning, as I’m into a book by Colson Whithead, Crook Manifesto. I admire his language use, the phrases he turns, the characters he projects. Suberb pacing and plotting as well. He’s won a few Pulitzers for a reason.

When I did turn to the net for news, I sighed and thought, more coffee needs swallowed before I can take on those headlines and their stories. I wondered, when will we land on the Star Trek track where we make greater and more impressive changes? Will we ever reach that point, or will we forever fight the same wars again and again? At the rate we’re going, we’re going to ruin civilization, take down humanity and much of the planet in the same blink.

Yeah, I’m a bit pessimistic and cynical on this chilly AM.

Out of this, I remembered a song line, “I hope we see the light before it’s ruined.” Took me a few to recall it’s from “Ghetto Gospel” by 2Pac, and then the 2005 song began running the course in my morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). Released in the year that I moved to southern Oregon, I caught the song on as I traveled back and forth to meet with my team in San Mateo, California, every month. I find the song has a lovely and intriguing melody and a powerful but hopeful message. I’ll take some hope with my coffee today.

Stay strong, be positive, lean forward, and vote. Back to the coffee cup for me. Enjoy the video and music. Cheers

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