Tuesday’s Theme Music

Don’t know why – perhaps because I’ve been battling with a cold and flu the last few days, and have finally seemed to be winning – but an old Stones’ standard has flooded the stream. Maybe a sense derived of snuggling in bed under heavy blankets during the day, when I’m supposed to be out adulting, contributes to a mood of being a little kid again, eating buttered toast and drinking warm fluids to soothe my throat and head.

Here’s “19th Nervous Breakdown” from 1966.

The Food Offer Dream

Dreams last night were like I was watching through a kaleidoscope. Not much stayed with me.

One section I remember was a stylish, older woman asking me if I’d eaten. Post Malone’s song, “Circles”, played in the background. We were in a très modern house. Before I could answer her, she said, “You look as if you’re famished. We have very good food here.”

Before I replied — I was thinking that I’d politely turn her down — a tall white man with gray hair and matching goatee entered from another hall, to my right. She introduced him as my chef and said that he would feed me. The man said, “Yes, I make wonderful food, everyone says so. Tell me, what would you like to eat?” He was not dressed as a chef, but wore a black shirt under a light gray sport coat.

At that point, I said, “I’m not hungry,” but the woman at the same time said, “I’ll leave you two to it.” She left.

The man said, “Here, come this way, my kitchen is just here.”

I said, “I’m not hungry.”

We rounded a corner. A large kitchen was to the left. Dark, glistening counters were filled with plates of food. The man gestured toward them. “What would you like? Just help yourself. If you don’t see anything that you want, I can make it for you.”

I was still taking in the food. Besides the kitchen, a breakfast bar was covered with food. Past that was a well-lit dining room, with a table and buffet heaped with food. I saw roasts, turkeys, grapes, and bowls of fruit.

The man said, “Are you a person who likes to stand up or sit down when you eat?”

The segment ended.

###

Another that I remember was a montage of my late mother-in-law saying, “I suppose.” That was like her catchall phrase. Do you want to eat? Would you like Chinese food? Do you mind if we do x and x? To almost every query, she replied, “I suppose.” That’s all the dream segment was: her saying, in various ways, at different ages and settings, “I suppose.”

Monday’s Theme Music

This was used in a dream’s as background music. These were the specific lyrics that kept looping:

I dare you to do something
I’m  waiting on you again, so I don’t take the blame

Run away, but we’re running in circles
Run away, run away, run away

It’s Post Malone, “Circles” (2019). The song has received a lot of airplay in the car and as music in stores and coffee shops, so I guess it found a niche in my mind and then just fed into the stream.

Quite a different video, and interesting.

 

Sunday’s Theme Music

I encountered a friend on the street. He was coming out of a store and I was walking by. Eighty years old, his wife is two years younger. She’s having medical issues.

Married for fifty years, his only spouse, he seemed like he was going through the process of thinking about life without her. They’ve downsized their home twice in the last eight years, but her mobility is going, as is her vision and her mental acuity. In his words, “It all seems to be falling apart for her.”

Sad, and an often heard story. I commiserated with him, but what struck me was his comments about being nothing without her. He said, in his thinking, everything that he’d done after getting his college degree was about her, and then their family that they created, and their life together. It was his constant motivation.

After we parted and I thought more about what he’d said, “Bring Me to Life” by Evanescence (1995) slipped into the stream, a song about being nothing without another.

 

Saturday’s Theme Music

Thinking about disasters as I was walking yesterday. Australia is struggling to catch a break this year, going from bushfires to rain to flooding. Indonesia continues having a tough time, quakes in Puerto Rico, and flooding in Chicago.

Then there’s the snow. A winter storm passed through here, giving us a couple inches. Trudging through the aftermath, we’re grateful because it helps the snowbanks, an important source of summer water, even while many mildly rue and curse the snow. Come on, it’s snow, and disrupts our easy ways and pleasantries with its cold intrusion.

It’s impressive how tiny flakes can add up. Our flakes went from normal or average sized to supersized flakes, back to normal before dropping into tiny. All still added up.

These thoughts took me to a Kate Bush 2011 song, “50 Words for Snow”. I enjoy her but I’m mostly aware of this song because Stephen Fry is the one giving the words. Fry delivers them like he’s tasting the expressions. Then Kate goes on with a chorus, “Come on, man,” telling him how many more words he has to go. I don’t hear this song often, originally hearing it by chance on NPR (“Is that Stephen Fry?”) but have since listened to it on the ‘puter, trying to understand all the words for snow. I find it satisfying and contemplative.

Like snow.

Friday’s Theme Music

Weep for yourself, my man,
You’ll never be what is in your heart
Weep, little lion man,
You’re not as brave as you were at the start
Rate yourself and rake yourself
Take all the courage you have left
And waste it on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head

But it was not your fault but mine
And it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
Didn’t I, my dear?
Didn’t I, my…

h/t to AZLyrics cuz cut and paste is easier than typing.

So it was that “Little Lion Man” by Mumford & Sons (2009) was going through my head this morning. Writing, a dream, and cats share almost equal weight in bringing the song into my stream.

The dream was about jigsaw puzzles, parties, hockey, and drunk celebrities in a brightly lit and strangely joyful montage that also seemed a bit fucked up, and left me to, well, puzzle it out. The cat was the little ginger lion that I was talking to this morning (you’re not as brave as you were at the start). Writing…well, writing is all about fixing the problems in my head. Not exactly a dark place, but not a clean, well-lighted place for enjoying life, either.

So, now, after singing the song to myself yesterday after writing, it returned to me after thinking about my dreams this morning, and gained strength when I was talking with the cat. Thus, it must be outed from my stream before it gains too much steam and stays too long.

For the record, I enjoy Mumford & Sons’ style, and its infusion of unique sounds in rock music. This video, with its intensity, and the sense of isolation and alienation that I find in it, keeps me watching. It’s like a confession that he’s making to himself but also a dialogue in his head that he imagines having, as the others play and listen. Then, they all join in, as though it was universal to the band members. Through it all flows introspection, a simmering sense of regret, and a realization.

 

Thursday’s Theme Music

Today’s theme music comes via a movie and the cats (but not the movie, Cats). The movie was Fighting With My Family. Featuring a strong cast, I’d wanted to see it when it came out but it went through our town’s theater like a gust of wind. Fortunately, it’s shown up on Epix, so I was able to enjoy it the other night.

Much of the music played during the movie jarred movies out of my brain and into my stream. One particular one was “Born to Raise Hell” by Motörhead (1994). I’m more familiar with the Cheap Trick cover, but the song reminded me of an airman who worked for me on the battle staff at Onizuka.

Such a demure, quiet person, with a southern accent, it was surprising to discover that she was a joyful metalhead. I love those sort of surprises, when preconceptions and stereotypes are overthrown.

The cats came into it as I was talking to my young ginger boy this morning. He’d been getting up in Boo’s face. Boo is a bedroom panther with issues. After speaking the magic words that stopped the conflict (“Stop it now, or you’re going out, Papi,”), I talked to the ginger and told him, “You’re just born to raise hell, aren’t you?”

“Yep,” he mewed back.

So this is for them. Feel free to sing along. Cheers

Wednesday’s Theme Music

The dreams were too cra-cra to even begin to parse more than snippets of scenes. They were all about some kind of business some people where people wanted me involved, and stars. Shooting stars, nebulae, and galaxies seemed like a heavy theme. Sometimes it seemed like I was in a spaceship looking out at stars, galaxies, and nebulae somewhere, except there wasn’t a spaceship. Just me and the stars. Those scenes stayed interspersed with the business scenes and other scenes that are mere flickers — on rocks by water, a flower, the sun.

Okay, from it, memories introduce Deep Purple playing “Highway Star” (1972) from the album Machine Head. It’s a fast-tempo song. It’s Deep Purple, so there is a large infusion of keyboards, but it’s Deep Purple, so it’s hard-rocking with guitars and drums, a perfect song to have cranked up on a cold night when you’re cruising in a car with your friends.

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Today’s song is by a Canadian group, “The Guess Who”.

“Hang On to Your Life” was released in 1971. It came to me today out of one of the lines, natch; it’s a common occurrence when I’m walking around town, speaking to the cats, or visiting with my dreams. This one came out in conjunction with mutterings about writing (wrutterings, I suppose), and the quest for a better novel. I figured, “Maybe I can sell my soul.”

Burton Cummings answered in “Hang On to Your Life”, “but don’t you sell it too cheap.” Then I just meandered down some memory lanes about age, life, and choices. Yes, all while sober and not smoking anything. Listening to it, it seems like a perfect 1970 radio rock song, featuring raging lyrics in a taut voice backed by electric guitars and heavy drumming.

Gotta love it.

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