On a whim, I looked up an old film, Kelly’s Heroes. A tale of American soldiers in WWII and their efforts to steal NAZI gold from a French bank behind German lines, it starred Clint Eastwood, Telly Savalas, Carroll O’Connor, and Donald Sutherland, with several other names in supporting roles. While it was released in 1970, it was based on a Guiness Book of World Records entry on ‘the greatest train robbery’ in history. The 1984 book, Nazi Gold — The Sensational Story of the World’s Greatest Robbery — and the Greatest Criminal Cover-Up by Ian Sayer and Douglas Botting, tells the whole story.
A light rain falls in some Ashlandia neighborhoods, where the traffic is light and the pace is slow. Petrichor’s smells ease into my nose and raise my spirits. Love that smell. Reminds of everything and everywhere and nothing and nowhere. Goes well with my black coffee’s bright, sharp scent.
Glad to report that Tucker continues his comeback. He’s gained weight and energy, and has become more talkative.
That all took Papi by surprise. Unaware of Tucker’s improving health and increasing energy, Papi pranced up to Tucker and indulged in a sniff.
Whipping around like a startled cougar, Tucker snapped out a left paw, just missing Papi as the latter jumped back, snapping, “Meowww!” I think “Meowww” meant, “Whoa, dude, chill, I was just smelling you. Didn’t mean to offend you. My bad.”
Floofish is an economical language.
Today’s music comes by way of a song. Sounds silly but listen up. As I went about my morning, I was suddenly hearing “There Is Nothin’ Like A Dame” from the musical, South Pacific, in my morning mental music stream (Trademark staged).
Hearing it, I queried of The Neurons why that song was playing. Those cheeky monkeys responded with The Eagles singing, “I Can’t Tell You Why” from 1979.
So that’s where I’m at. Stay pos, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Cheers
Rolling Stone rolled out a story about a new film that features Donald Trump. The article begins,
After the film The Apprentice debuted at the Cannes Film Festival on Monday, the Trump Campaign threatened to sue over the controversial depiction of the ex-president during his early days in real estate and his marriage to his first wife, Ivana.
Among scenes of Trump taking amphetamine pills and getting liposuction, Variety reported that the movie included a disturbing scene of the former president throwing Ivana to the floor and having nonconsensual sex with her. The outlet said a female attendee at the premiere referred to it as “rape,” while another agreed and said it was a disturbing sexual assault.
That beginning seized my attention. Reading on is where it became so Alanis Morrisette ironic:
“We will be filing a lawsuit to address the blatantly false assertions from these pretend filmmakers. This garbage is pure fiction which sensationalizes lies that have been long debunked. As with the illegal Biden Trials, this is election interference by Hollywood elites, who know that President Trump will retake the White House and beat their candidate of choice because nothing they have done has worked,” Trump campaign’s communications director Steven Cheung said in a statement to Rolling Stone.
Whoa, whoa, whoa – the Trump campaign is upset about blatantly false assertions?Garbage that’s been thoroughly debunked?
Gosh, we’re with you on that! Would that include assertions which have been thoroughly debunked like that the 2024 election was stolen, an assertion without any facts supporting it whatsoever? That the kind of assertions which have you upset, Mr Trump Campaign?
What about blatantly false assertions that have been thoroughly debunked like the US economy did so much better under DJ Trump?
Are you saying, Mr Trump’s Campaign, that you don’t like it when thoroughly debunked bullshit is substituted for truth?
Then you know how the rest of us feel about you and your campaign at this point. You must surely know how sick and tired we are of hearing about these debunked lies that you keep spouting as truths.
And just as you want these ‘thoroughly debunked assertions’ stopped, so…do…we.
Floofcast(floofinition) – 1. A production about an animal available to the public for entertainment or informational purposes. The production may be posted to the net on social media or presented via cable or satellite communications.
In Use: “Many social media users end up creating and sharing interesting or amusing floofcasts about their pets or rescues and share them on the net, such as Owl Kitty.”
2. An advisory from an animal that something is on the verge of happening.
In Use: “At 9:03 AM one Sunday morning, Sandi’s dog leaped up and urgently barked. Then he grabbed Sandi’s hand and lead her to another room. An instant later, a large tree crashed into the room where Sandi had been sitting. If not for Barkley’s floofcast, Sandi may have been injured or killed.”
I’m ensconced in Penn Hills, PA, an eastern suburb of Pittsburgh, visiting family. A light rain is scenting the 64 F air with petrichor. Temp should peak at 67 F.
Weirdly, the weather seems ‘right’ to me. I emerged from my cocoon in this area and first spread my wings. Lived with Mom and grandparents when I was a child not going to school, moved away in conjunction with Dad’s military service, then returned here. Attended school in several small burghs for second grade through my high school sophomore year. Since Mom and a buncha extended family live here, I’ve been returning again and again on my own cycadean rhythm.
Tragically, Mom only serves decaf. She and her man only drink decaf. So, they make a big pot of coffee. Once it’s done brewing, they draw from it for days and doctor it with cream and nuke it in the microwave. Gag gag gag.
So I slipped away for coffee and writing, heading for a Starbucks. That works for Mother and I and the general household, since Mom and her BF sleep in late these days. She said she doesn’t emerge from her nocturnal seclusion until almost noon. Then her BF, already dressed, ensures she’s set up for the afternoon, and goes out on his errands. His first stop is the gym, where this former boxer, now in his early nineties, works out.
The Starbucks was chosen because it’s where my niece and her boyfriend work. Both are college grads with bachelor’s degrees. Her’s is in business administration. She speaks several languages and plays the violin and is still attending college, going into software and database administration.
So guess who served me? Yes, she looked up with widening eyes when I said, “Morning, Amy.” I hope to have more of a visit with her than that, of course.
Amy and I have a running joke from when she was a child. There’s a movie called The Mothman Prophecies which came out in 2002. It’s about a bridge collapse in Weirton, WV, and a mothman warning it was gonna happy. A brother-in-law (not Amy’s father) saw the movie while traveling in West Virginia. It freaked him out because after watching the movie, his hotel room phone began ringing, just like in the movie. He and I and Amy talked about it in subsequent years. I began calling her Mothgirl. She dubbed me Mothman.
Today’s music arrives via a conversation about me living on the west coast. Everyone hearing hat immediately asks, “California?” No, I’m from the Pacific Northwest, Oregon, to add more precision, Ashlandia, to get granular. But the California suggestions kicked The Neurons into filling the morning mental music stream (Trademark with “Californication”. The Red Hot Chili Peppers released the song in 1999. I immediately took to it. It’s a drool commentary about how Hollywood sells California as the place to be. Several little plays on pop culture are woven into the song.
On to the day. Stay strong, be positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music video. Cheers from Pennsylvania.
Winter’s turn continues to erode our confidence that spring has actually arrived. Rain. Heavy clouds signaling more rain may be falling. 51 F with milky, intermittent sunshine. Could be bleaker but something about this pulls me down.
I’m not alone in feeling a downward tug. Before I mentioned it, another friend announced that he felt blah and blamed it on the weather change from sunshine and warm air to cold rain. Others quickly agreed with him. Several wondered if we’d get snow. Then came memories of March and April snowstorms fro previous years. I volunteered the time I remembered walking down the street in early July and looked across the valley at the snow on Grizzly. Wow, the others exclaimed.
The cats are back in the house. Papi tried the front door, side door, and back door, in and out times three, before acknowledging with plaintive meows, there’s no sunshine. The sunshine is gone! Where is the sunshine? Stop the rain. Make it stop.
“Can’t, little buddy,” I answered the ginger blade. “You’ll need to endure, just like us.”
Tail up but a sulky look over his shoulder to me, he headed for the bed.
The Neurons loaded the Clash into the morning mental music stream (Trademark floundering). The song is “The Magnificent Seven”. Now, the original 1960 movie which went by that name was a favorite of mine but was a remake of a 1954 Japanese movie Seven Samari, released in the US as a film called, The Magnificent Seven. The 2016 remake was called The Magnificent Seven. It wasn’t bad. I suspect the next edition of The Magnificent Seven movie will be set in space, or maybe another planet.
Anyway, the Clash’s song, “The Magnificent Seven”, is a punk statement on society’s states, especially as people’s buttons are pushed to conform, go to work, and enjoy the entertainment provided. Keep up with what’s going on by buying the latest consumer goods and you’ll be happy, because you’ve been told, that’s how it is. Seems fit to me as we plug in, turn on, and tune out, feasting on whatever powers our pleasure centers: shopping, cooking, games, sports, hunting, television, movies, books, fashion, TikTok, the net.
Well, now I’m depressed. Thanks, neurons. Think I’ll go escape into a novel. Shut up, neurons. They’re so eager to laugh and mock me when I act hypocritically by conforming to the mores and norms. Bloody hell.
Stay positive (ahem), lean forward, be strong, and vote. Think I’ll nurse more coffee and escape into my writing. It’s a safe place. Here’s the video. Cheers
I have a second theme song for today, Monday, March 11, 2024.
Here’s Ryan Gosling and friends with, “I’m Just Ken”, which he performed during the 96th Academy Awards Show yesterday. I found it smashing and laughed quite a bit. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Yes, Greta Gerwig should have been nominated for best director. Cheers
Hello, friends. It’s Friday, January 19, 2024, which means we have eleven months left in this year to get things done. 52 F here right now, we’re again trapped in a spring-like day in Ashlandia, where the valley is narrow and the days are pleasant. Striated clouds in shades of blues and grays are offering a promise of more rain and a high two degrees further up the thermometer.
Read news about a killing done with a hammer, new titanium dentures for a celebrity (just 850K if you want to get some), a messed up speech by Trump where he displayed confusion and forgetfulness, and an Oregon teen who witnessed a winter accident and saved a child. In the last, the individual said she saw a car slide on ice into a power pole. It killed three of the people in the car but she saved the fourth, a nine-month-old. Meanwhile, the US is in conflict with Houthi rebels in Yemen. The Houthi have been launching missiles at ships in international waters, and the US has begun conducting air strikes against these missile strikes. Will it escalate? Escalation seems to be the pattern in vogue when it comes to violence in this century but I hope not.
Out of nowhere this morning, The Neurons have offered “I Am A Man of Constant Sorrow” by the Soggy Bottom Boys to the morning mental music stream (Trademark all wet). The song has been around over one hundred years. I’d known it by others like Bob Dylan, Judy Collins, and Ginger Baker before this fictional singing group was featured in the movie, O Brother Where Art Thou? in 2000, but truly enjoyed the fake performance of a delightful song. Anyway, it came up today so it’s my theme music. These at the musicians and singers who put it together for the movie, although there are some substitutions here.
Of course, I sang a modified version to my cats, which could be called, “I Am A Floof of Constant Hunger”. As usual, they were not impressed. They seemed quizzical about why I was singing to them when they really wanted me to feed them.
Be strong, stay positive, and lean forward. Here’s the music. I got coffee and a cat sleeping by the ‘puter, but I need to put some pants on. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 