Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
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
Mood: bubbly
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
Mood: wistful
Friday, October 27, 2023, slid into Ashlandia on icy paws, clear skies, and sunshine. Was 32 F. Warming now, and people are out walking among the gold, rose, and brown fallen leaves. None of the walkers kick them up, as I like to do as I march thlrough drifts on the paths.
Ashlandia, where the trees were imported and the people revere them, will reach the mid fifties by late afternoon. Now is the time to prepare for freezing weather, if you’ve not done that already. Disconnect the hoses and bring them in. Cover the outdoor faucets to protect them from freezing.
I’ve done those things. Now I need to deal with the furnace which just doesn’t seem to be warming us as we expect. Don’t suggest the thermostat or the filters; both are new and the vents are clean and unobstructed. No, some other technical challenge is behind this matter. I’ll search the net for what to do.
The Neurons hooked me up with Van Morrison in the morning mental music stream (Trademark facetious). Started while I was driving yesterday. A station played Steve Winwood doing “Higher Love”, a song I enjoy, inducing me to increase the volume and sing along. Counting Crows followed up with “A Long December” which forced my finger to find the volume button and add just a little more volume. Lenny Kravitz followed and a little more volume was added.
From that process of events, sounds, and thinking, The Neurons put “Caravan” from 1970 into the stream, where it remained this morning. That’s because of the Van’s repeatitive urging, “Turn it up. Turn it up. On the radio.” I went with the version from The Last Waltz to help release it from the mental music stream, where Van Morrison is backed by The Band. Hope you like it.
Here we go, out to westing with traffic, time, weather, writing, and intentions once again. Stay positive, be strong, and remain steadfast. Coffee is steaming from a mug beside me. Here’s the music. Cheers
It was The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly in our backyard, if that movie was done by cats.
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly is a 1966 spaghetti western film. That name, ‘spaghetti western’ was given to a series of western films based on the US west, but generally written, directed, and produced by Italians and filmed in Europe. Sergio Leone was one the leaders of this movement. With a string of successful films, he became influential in how westerns were made. This film was one of his masterpieces and judged by film critics to be significant.
Clint Eastwood starred in several spaghetti westerns, including this one. The movie’s morally complex story is that three gunfighters are searching for stolen gold during the American Civil War. The gold is supposed to be buried in a cemetery. The three men are searching and fighting for it while coping with the war going on. They eventually find the cemetery. A final showdown is set up.
It’s a climatic scene, delivered with long shots of the three gunfighters interspersed with tight close ups of the squinting and sweating sunburned men as flies pester them. These movies were always gritty and tense, with impressively realistic details. A music box is playing – yes, it’s part of the story – along with the titular theme song. When the music box finishes, the gunfight commences and finishes the tale.
My cats, Papi and Tucker, aided by a stranger, recreated the scene in the backyard. A jay provided the background ‘music’. Standing in an equilateral triangle about eighteen feet apart, Tucker and Papi faced off against a gray and white stranger.
Tucker is a black and white long-haired/short-haired mix with crazy long, white whiskers. There looks like some Maine coon in those whiskers, along with his ears and face shape. He used to be a fierce fighter but has finally chilled as he’s aged. Papi, the ginger blade, is years younger. He’s been in a few fights – he was in one just last night – including at least twice with Tucker, but prefers to not fight if fighting can be avoided.
A strong wind was blowing. Tucker was in sunlight on a small knoll on which three trees are perched. Their branches blew wildly over his head. The stranger was back by the wooden plank fence between two bushes. Papi was in shadowed dark green grass. The only movement I saw on the three floofs were small eye slides and ear shifts.
Though Tucker isn’t the right ‘colors’ to be Eastwood, his expression was worthy of being Clint’s character. I could easily imagine a cigar in Tucker’s mouth as he stared down the other.
A few minutes into it, Papi slowly settled into a more comfortable watching posture. Tucker followed suit a couple minutes later, encouraging the third cat to do the same. They stayed like that for about three minutes. Then, Papi, I guess growing bored, looked around and discreetly walked off. Tucker lowered his head down for a nap. The stranger carefully shifted, and then went up the fence and away from the scene.
All very anticlimactic. While it reminded me of the famous movie scene, none of these three participants were ugly. I can’t speak for the stranger, but my two can sometimes be good, or bad. Come to think of it, they’re as morally complex as the gunfighters, and just as entertaining.
Mood: hopeful
Welcome again to Octmonedai in Ashland, where the bears are large and the pets are wary.
Octmondai comes four to five times each year. These are the Mondays (Monedais, or Moon Days) in October. We’ll have five this year. Many people observe these days by getting out of bed, dressing, and rushing off to work, meetings, or schools. I celebate by drinking black coffee. Salute.
It’s October 2, 2023. Over 75% of the year is done. Ninety days remain. The clock’s digital numbers are running on anything you want done in 2023.
It’s fifty degrees now, that’s Fahrenheit, under a spotted white and blue sky. Sunshine has arrived but doesn’t seem too interested in getting warm. Today’s high will be 64 F, and rain will come this evening. I still keep my fingers crossed that a pleasant Indian summer will be enjoyed this month.
I’m in a hopeful mood today. That’s brought on by some news last week. Judge Engoron’s ruling regarding Donald J. Trump’s real estate valuations said — paraphrasing a little — they would be more at home in Dungeons & Dragons and other fantasy existences rather than the real world. Score one for justice. Trump’s civilian fraud trial begins in New York this week — today! — and is expected to go on to December. Knock wood and fingers crossed, justice will prevail.
In other news regarding Donald Trump’s indictments, one of his co-defendants, Scott Hall, plead guilty and has been sentenced in the Georgia election racketeering case. One down, eighteen to go.
A temporary funding extension was achieved for the US government. The process behind it demonstrated the lack of a Republican will other than to generally support Trump (and ignore anything bad said about him), a great deal of party infighting, and their inability to govern. That, combined with the poor showing that was the GOP debate to find their presidential nominee, reveals a narcissistic and confused political organization.
We went to the AIFF outdoor showing of E.T. the Extraterrestrial last night. The event’s organization was a bit sloppy. Starts at 6, they said. Well, no, playing the movie didn’t start until 7. Multiple food trucks were due to be there but only one was now available. They offered Carribbean food, and weren’t ready to serve food until almost 6:30. There was beer, wind, and popcorn for a small donation, but they seemed sadly unprepared for children. Only popcorn for them and water for them.
E.T. was as I remembered it, solid pacing, with an interesting basic story and plot. The dialogue in the movie’s first quarter seemed lamer than what I remember; my wife reminded me that it was a different time back in 1982, and that might account for that dialogue. Drew Barrymore was definitely the best actor on screen. The temperature grew colder as the film rolled on, with a sharp northern wind visiting us as we sat chairs, but we were zipped up and under blankets, with gloves on, and endured.
I have “Walk On” by U2 ringing out in the morning mental music stream (Trademark reckoning). I don’t know what prompted The Neurons to call it up and put it on repeat today. Although the song has noble intentions (Aung San Suu Kyi’s fight for democracy and her house arrest for her activities), the 2001 song left little mark on me. I prefer the live version much more than the studio rendition. Live version is more energized and uplifting.
Stay pos and strong. Chase the day and lock it away. Coffee drinking is finished until the next roun in about an hour. Here’s the music. Cheers
Mood: mellow
Greetings to the first day of October. Sunday finds us awash in blue sky in Ashlandia, where the apples are plentiful and the deer are eating well. We saw twenty-three of them around town yesterday while running errands, usually in small herds of four to six.
It’s a chilly day despite sunshine that stings the eyes with its brilliance. 48 F now, we’re doing 66 F today.
October has special meaning for me. I joined the military in October, 1974. Twenty-one years later, I retired in October. And my wife and I bought this house in October of 2006.
Meanwhile, yesterday’s rain postponed our E.T. showing to this evening. This is the second rescheduling; two weeks ago, the outdoor movie screening was postponed to yesterday because of hazardous air quality due to wildfire smoke.
Keeping this short today, so I’ll just go with the music. The Neurons have sowed the seeds of “Wheel in the Sky”, a 1977 song by Journey. I’ve romantically identified with the song’s idea that everything changes quickly and in surprising ways. As Journey portrays in the song, most of us can be anywhere tomorrow. I was in the military in ’77 and wholly agreed with the idea that I could be anywhere the next day. My Air Force units were usually tagged for mobility. That meant that we could be deployed to elsewhere as needed. Although stability has become my norm in this stage of my civilian life, weather disasters or personal upheaval such as health issues can force a shift with little warning. I’ve seen it happen with friends and family.
Beyond that, I moved numerous times as a child, because my father was in the military. Much of that was overseas for Dad, but Mom and we kids remained stateside. Dad was enlisted and that pay wasn’t much. So Mom drove us to live with relatives in Chicago, Iowa, and Pennsylvania. Then Dad would return and we’d head to Texas, California, Virginia, Ohio. Then I joined the military. For the next twenty-one years, I was assigned across the US and around the world on temporary, special, and permanent assignments. Eventually, I retired in California and moved to Oregon.
Remain positive, be strong, and keep chill. Let me finish this coffee and then I’ll kick off the day. Have a better one. Here’s the music. Cheers
Mood: positive
Let’s close our eyes and bow our heads; September, 2023, is passing. Today is Saturday, September 30, 2023. A fresh month — October — begins tomorrow.
“Alexa, weather,” I say.
“It’s 49 degrees in Ashland. Today’s high will be 62 degrees. Today’s forecast includes showers.”
I’m boiling her response down. Alexa is one of three sources for my daily weather info. The other two are my home system and wunderground.com online. I also often scan MSN’s weather forecast for us.
I do this because we’re located on the fringe of a small town, about three and a half miles long, with a population of about 20,000. I live on the southern end. The town is in a valley alongside Interstate 5. The southern end is where the valley pinches together and becomes a pass. For all these reasons, getting precise weather forecasts is troublesome. We’re usually a few degrees warmer than the forecast in the summer and a few degrees colder in fall and winter.
I don’t doubt Alexa’s forecast for today. It rained off and on through the night. Rainclouds are as thick as a Black Friday shopping crowd. Those clouds don’t look like they’re going to wander off without dropping more rain on us.
The cats are happier and more mellow with this weather. Both come in for shelter, washing before napping. Papi’s preference is the master bed where I keep a folded blanket at the foot for the cats. Tucker will used that at night, but it’s Papi’s during the daytime. Tucker prefers being with us in the daytime. He’ll haunt the desk in the snug, sleeping to the right of me, shoving around papers and rearranging equipment. I enjoy having him there, with his cute little black and white face and long, whirly whiskers at repose as he sleeps.
My wife and I have plans for the evening. Scienceworks is doing an outdoor showing of the movie E.T. Show starts at 6:30 PM. There will be food and beverage trucks, along with an ice cream truck.
Forecasts for that period tell us it’ll be colder by then, and it’ll be raining. Should be fun.
My wife particularly wants to go because she only saw E.T. once. This was when we were stationed on Okinawa, Japan. We saw a VHS bootleg copy of the movie, and the production values were terrible. Bootleg copies of films and TV shows was how we saw a lot of things in those pre-net, pre satellite TV days. Phoning home was still a major production that required us to go to the USO and use one of their expensive long-distance lines.
Well, with talk of “phone home” and memories of the way it was in 1982, Les Neurons have cranked up ELO’s 1977 song, “Telephone Line” for the morning mental music stream (Trademark fantasy). Makes sense, and I will allow it.
Stay pos and be cool, and strong. I’m refreshing my coffee — do you want a topoff? Here’s the music. Let the real day commence. Cheers
The net can be a dizzying roller coaster. Bad news headlines, followed by humor on a friend’s blog, then disastrous breaking news, chased by sweet floof photos, which give way to dire predictions, trailed by fascinating new scientific or historic findings, war and political updates, and book reviews.
I ride throughout the day, breaking off to soothe myself with my personal writing, and then releasing all the pent tension with a relaxing game or two (or four). You know, Wordle. Spelling Bee. Sudoku.
How different from my youth. We watched television together in the family room — ‘in color’ — so it was a consensus choice. Five channels were available: PBS, the big three, and one UHF channel that washed in and out on a sea of static. Sitcoms (“Green Acres”), dramas (“Gunsmoke) and thrillers (“The Man From U.N.C.L.E.”) entertained us, or the Movie of the Week, delivering Psycho, Seven Days in May, and The Sound of Music, among a plethora of others.
Then I consider how different my mother’s childhood was. She was a little girl in Turin, Iowa, during the Depression and World War II, eating popcorn and listening to a radio with her family, or going to the hardware store to watch “I Love Lucy” on the only television in their small town.
Reaching further back, I struggle with visualizing how it was in my grandfather’s youth. He helped establish Turin a few decades before Mom was born. Guess I’ll surf the net about it and see what I find.
Once on the roller coaster, getting off it isn’t easy.
Michael Seidel, writer 