Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
“This Is Spinal Floof” (floofinition) – Floofumentary about an English floof band and their misadventures during their latest U.S. tour.
In use: “Led by David St. Bernard and Nigel Floofnel, Spinal Floof was a flooftitious band whose minor 1960s pop hit, “Listen to What the Floof People Say” was part of the floof power movement.”
Tell me, again, how does this mind thing work? How do memories, dreams, events, and thinking interplay to bring other things up? I don’t have a grasp. I know I’m young, just in my sixties, but I do want to know.
Take this morning. Up and busy with cat attentions (this is where the cats gather to ensure that I’m going to feed them, and the head floofherder guides me to the write location by tapping my legs with a helpful paw, or darting across my path when I turn the wrong way). Not thinking of much, to be honest. Hadn’t had coffee, was drinking hot water.
I guess, if anything, I was thinking, “Oh, sunlight! And it’s not even eight! Yea!” And I was thinking, “Spring ahead with the clock soon, yea.” (And then doing the comparisons; so if it’s seven now, this will be what it’s like at eight, right?”
Into all of this came a song. As the sound entered my stream, I thought, hey, I know that song. That’s “Tubular Bells”. Theme music for the The Exorcist.
Song and movie came out in 1973. The movie was Oscar nominated and much talked about. It terrified people, and they wanted to talk about it. They were talking about it in restaurants and parties, cars and houses, on the radio and television. It was non-stop Exorcist.
“Tubular Bells”, by Mike Oldfield, was everywhere, too. The real question is, why did it make the jump from early 1970s memories to active placement in the stream today.
Guess it’s a haunting melody (heh, heh).
Any of you out there in netland familiar with this movie and song?
Cheers
I watched Once Upon A Time in Hollywood. Tarentino always makes it interesting and watching it for memories of that era was a delight for us Boomers.
Circling around an actor and his stunt double and friend (Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt) and Charlie Manson’s family, the movie offered some fond side trips down pop culture lane. Our American television diet was prominent, because this film’s story was about TV and movie stars.
But pop music was in there, too. And in the background of one scene was an old Vanilla Fudge favorite from 1967, “You Keep Me Hangin’ On”. Loved the song by the Supremes, but the VF’s more psychedelic version spoke to this eleven-year-old lad. My older sister had an older guy interested in her. To win her over, he tried winning me over by loaning me his Vanilla Fudge album, so I played it enough that the notes and I were familiars.
The movie entertained me with its what-if premise. I always enjoy what-if, but the attention to details really impressed. Even period piece can openers were used.
Our favorite character? Brandy.
There’s so little of this dream, but the image weighs on me.
I’m in a dark, small club, dancing in with a group of strangers. Strobe lights and spotlights sometimes illuminate the crowd. Although I’m tired and sweaty, I’m having fun.
Then, I’m surprised to realize that I can’t hear any music. Everyone is still dancing. I’m still dancing. “Does anyone hear any music?” I ask.
No one pays me any attention. I can hear everyone’s feet thumping and shuffling. Nobody is talking or laughing or anything. None make eye contact with me; many have their eyes closed or their heads bowed.
Turning, I look for a band or a DJ. Not seeing either, I hunt for music system speakers. What’s weird is how everyone seems to be moving to the same beat. Most have their arms over their head, giving me an impression that I’m in the middle of a sea of arms. They’re generally younger people, say, their early twenties to early thirties. Multiple races are present, though most are pale skinned in this light. I peer at them, hunting for clues of headphones or a Bluetooth. Seeing neither, I say, “Does anyone hear any music? I don’t hear any music.”
I’m beginning to suspect that it’s just me that doesn’t hear the music. It amuses and frightens me; I can’t hear music, but I’m still dancing.
I stop dancing, because, why should I keep dancing? I remember seeing a movie being filmed that was like this, with people dancing without music, with the music applied later. I wondered if that was what was happening. I looked for cameras or some clue but again, no clues emerged.
I feel the dance floor shaking. Looking down, I’m surprised. It looks like we’re dancing on a wooden deck. I wonder if we’re on a boat or ship.
The dream ends.
Just out of speaking with friends, reading the news, remembering the past, and pondering the future…
Into the stream came a song from The Falcon and the Snowman based on the book with the same title, with more words in it. A friend received it in a slush pile, read it through the evening one Friday, looked up the author and discovered they were in the same area code. The book excited him. A phone call was made against all standard protocols. Arrangements were made to connect the following Monday to talk about going forward.
Alas, by then, the author had contacted an agent, and everything changed. The book went to another publishing house, to my buddy’s dismay.
Meanwhile, the song — also with the same name — by Pat Metheny with David Bowie on vocas, reflects the disbelief and denial that I feel while reading the news. It isn’t particular to this era. I always think we should learn and move forward, but my idea of moving forward doesn’t align with what others think and want. To me, it’s like they’re moving backward and repeating history as they insist that we’re going forward.
Anyone, this 1985 ditty expresses my point of view. Cheers
It seems like my mind is determined to turn back time in my dreams. It’s also making all these song connections. (Like, boom, Cher has begun singing, “If I could turn back time.”)
The dreams were crazy chaos, leaving images like flashes of sunlight off of windshields. The dreams’ theme was ‘anything goes’. That theme conjured up the show tune from the musical with the same name, “Anything Goes”, which, let’s see…came out twenty-two years before my birth, but the movie did come out the year I was born.
Out of this throwback, go-go sense came the song that’s haunting the morning’s stream (now I have this image of a musical urine stream…oh, boy. (“I heard the news today, oh boy.” Yeah, the Beatles.) It’s from a 1964 movie, so I was eight.
The song is “The Monkey’s Uncle”. Although the Beach Boys perform it with Annette Funicello singing it, it’s written by the Sherman Brothers. Yeah, I looked it up. I knew the first two pieces but not the third. The Sherman Brothers were prolific songwriters. You should check out their list. I can tell you that one of their other songs, “It’s A Small World”, has entered my stream.
Meanwhile, the monkey’s uncle idiom amuses me. In one of those flashes in the dream, someone else says it in what feels like a sitcom moment. I’m looking at the guy when he does. Canned laughter kicks in, and then the song begins.
I don’t hear people say, “I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” that often any longer. I think it was dying out as a popular saying even when I was young, sputtering along in movies and television where caricatures of old folks say it.
That frenetic dream activity left me felt energized, like it was a storm blowing out my mind’s systems. Anyway, the long and short of it (had to throw that in, it was in dream), is “The Monkey’s Uncle” is today’s theme music.
Feel free to sing along, or if you’re like me, laugh along, with the video.
Today’s theme music choice emerged reflections on my dream. Written by Paul Simon over fifty years ago, it was used in a movie, The Graduate, as well as standing as a hit on its own. It came about in my stream today because of the reference to a baseball player, Joe DiMaggio.
From 1968, Simon & Garfunkel with “Mrs. Robinson”. Fascinating to listen to the lyrics again.
“We’d like to know a little bit about you for our files.
“We’d like to help you learn to help yourself.
“Look around and all you see are sympathetic eyes.
“Stroll around the grounds until you feel at home.”
Heavy traffic downtown in our town yesterday. Ah, holidays, I figured. School is out. Last minute shopping. Meeting for drinks and meals, doing holiday things under the weak sunshine in the forty-degree air.
Which kicked Lindsey Buckingham singing “Holiday Road” (1983). I know the song from that classic comedy, National Lampoon’s Vacation with Chevy Chase. We were on Okinawa when it came out (military), and saw it on video at home. The movie became a favorite.
“I found out long ago,
“it’s a long way down the Holiday Road.”
“Holiday Road” has a lot of energy but not many words, yet it conveys that whole sense of excitement of jumping into the Family Truckster and braving the Interstates for a family vacation.
I especially like the dog’s barking at the song’s end.
Hope your Holiday Road is a smooth and safe one this year. Let’s be safe out there.
Had to include something of National Lampoon’s Vacation, right?
I don’t know what’s going on with my subconscious these days (it’s like it’s keeping me in the dark) but it pulled out a couple more unusual songs for my streaming enjoyment this morning.
First was an old show staple, “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend”, which I know from the movie, “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” (with Marilyn Monroe, Jane Russell, and a bunch of male actors), which came out three years before I was born (yeah, I know Carol Channing song it before that, and I think Mom might have had it on a record). I know the movie (and song) from the miracle of modern television and shows like “Sunday Afternoon at the Movies”. Madonna’s “Like A Virgin” (1984) then leaped into the stream. As I was processing those songs, the stream switched to Adam Ant’s “Goody Two Shoes” (1982).
That’s where it’s now stopped.
Michael Seidel, writer 