Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: darkcoffeefresh

I was hoping for a sunny day outside my window. But it’s raining again. And there ain’t no sunshine.

It’s October’s final Monday. The month’s 28th day. Still 2024 for just over two more months.

Rain keeps a light, steady background staccato to the morning rituals. Clouds from mountain to mountain rule outside my window. Mountain tops wear gothic lighting as they fade behind sullen gray moisture-bearing behemoths. While it’s 42 F now, it feels like 48 F, which is the day’s hopeful high. This is this week’s weather prototype.

The cats send mixed signals about the season’s new weather setup. Papi the ginger blade goes out and endures on the covered patio in his carpeted condo. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) goes out for a test and nixes an extended stay, arthritically humping back into house’s warm offerings. Eventually Papi will beat on the door and return inside and then head to a sleeping position to pass the day. That’s become his new pattern.

Fun fact: on this day in 1886, the Statue of Liberty was unveiled. Yeah, I didn’t know; just saw it in my feed.

Another fun fact to offer: crowds didn’t stay for Trump’s speech last week in PA. The article also states, “He bizarrely walked out on stage to the Undertaker’s WWE funeral theme music, while wearing a black hat and coat.”

Yep, just the weird guy to be the POTUS.

He also lamented poor Abe Lincoln’s loss of Ted during Lincoln’s presidency. Ted: the forgotten Lincoln boy. His supporters of course, insisted that we give him a break, because he was close enough to knowing that it was Willie who died while Lincoln was in the White House.

That’s his supporters’ style: give him a break for being ‘close enough’ to things. Meanwhile, they demand perfection of Kamala Harris. Hypocrisy’s stench covers the GOP.

The Neurons are feeding me Pink Floyd as the gray light floods and stills over the day. They have “Brain Damage/Eclipse” looping the morning mental music stream (Trademark cut). I’ve always had a fondness for these songs, the first about the lunatic, the second about everything under the sun.

[Verse: Roger Waters]
All that you touch
And all that you see

All that you taste
All you feel

And all that you loved
And all that you hate
All you distrust
All you save

And all that you give (All you give)
And all that you deal (Woah)

And all that you buy
Beg, borrow, or steal (Hey-hey)

And all you create
And all you destroy (Woah)

And all that you do
And all that you say (Hey, yeah)

And all that you eat
And everyone you meet (Everyone you meet)
And all that you slight
And everyone you fight (Ho-ho-ho)

And all that is now
And all that is gone
And all that’s to come
And everything under the sun is in tune (Everything)
But the sun is eclipsed by the moon

h/t to Genius.com

They do go hand in hand with thoughts of Trump these days. He’s always talking up hating, enemies, and destroying, along with everyone he meets, while we speak of all that he begs, borrows, and steals. He’s the con of the deal, the madman on the stage, offering trinkets to support him, riffing on fake history, making vainglorious claims. Really, though, the enemy within is the enemy in his head.

The cats are in and my coffee is snuggling into my body’s systems. Be strong, remain positive, and vote blue. My wife dropped off our votes at the ballot box this morning. Here’s the music.

Cheers

Nosunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Chillsunsational

It was a morning of listening: that sounds like rain. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) at hand we burrowed deeper between warm covers. Another noise struck my attention: ah, the heat was on. Sleep was waving me in for another go-around when a more familiar sound rolled over my eardrums.

Papi wanted in.

Activity associated with letting Papi in served to trigger Tucker’s appetite. Jumping down, he barked in a loud scratchy meow, “Breakfast.” Catching on and always the opportunist, Papi yelled, “Me, too.” So that was it. Time to rise and face Sunday, October 27, 2024.

Reminder for most ‘Mericans: we do as Cher urges, more or less, and turn back the hour next Sunday.

It’s a bleak Nosunday outside the windows. One fat lazy cloud has claimed the sky with a gray cloak. Rain has lessened its profusive flow and now spits at us with a little contemptuous attitude. The temperature hunkers at 51 F. Never fear, as it’s destined to climb to 52 F. They tell us that it feels like 56 F. That’s a tiny comfort.

Need I mention that the cats went out and returned quick as a cat. Papi did it three times, per the Interflooftional Standards for In & Out. The standards state that once is a floofcident, twice is a cofloofcident, but three times is a trend.

With the rain chilling our vibes, I kicked on the gas fireplace. A survey followed to check how the rain fell. It was my contention that no rain hit any window. A thanks is owed to our wide eaves and covered porches for that. But back in the living room with my observation confirmed, coffee joined me, and I watched the fireplace.

“Fire & Rain.” The Neurons began it forthwith in my morning mental music stream (Trademark damp). I’d featured the James Taylor song back in 2017. In that post, I mentioned how I associated it with a young crush on a girl named Susie. Wonder what she’s up to these years? Will she vote for Harris or Trump? She was intelligent and intent on a college path. Her mother, who I met briefly twice, came across as an energetic progressive, but you know. People’s opinions and voting preferences change. Sometimes they skew with unexpected directions and impulses.

Be strong, remain pos, and vote blue in 2024. Coffee is doing its utmost to keep me warm and energized. Here is the music. Cheers

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: Saturnacious

It’s Saturday morning. October 26, 2024. 51 F, 73 F on the horizon. Yesterday’s clouds slipped away to do other things, depositing a clear sky afterwards. We still have that blue sky, and the sun has come up to light everything up and warm us a bit.

While I was out yesterday, I heard someone through the coffee house glass calling another. “Hey. Hey.” My mind began buzzing with a little of Pink Floyd’s “Hey You” after that incident. If you remember, that song came out on their album, “The Wall” in 1979.

Then we headed to Empty Bowls. Arriving fifteen minutes after doors opened, we discovered a packed place. Almost every seat was taken, and the food line circled around three sides of the place. I was told that they’d originally reduced the tables from 12 to 9 but then put the last three back in at the last minute. Good thing. Not only were they needed, but additional tables were put on the stage. In my years of attending this thing, that’s the first time that happened.

I sample two soups and enjoyed both. A pianist played in the corner, offering slow piano versions of rock songs like “Free Bird” and “Running On Empty”. BTW, myMy wife and a friend created the centerpieces, with gorgeous results.

By luck, we ended up sitting with the same guy from last year, Benjy, a data analyst for Harry & David who lives in Talent. We were at the same table, too. Such a coincidence.

As we talked, he mentioned how we — liberals, progressives, Democrats — needed to fight for the Constitution with this election. That comment cemented “Hey You” in my mind, and now it’s playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark not free). That comes around from the combo of ‘hey you’ and the other line, ‘don’t give in without a fight’.

Coffee and I have reach an agreement whereby I’ll allow some to stream down my throat and it will give me energy. Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue. Here’s the music. Cheers

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Freshcoffeesion

Oh, it’s Friday. October 25, 2024.

Fall is bracketing our valley. Clouds sprawl across the sky at different altitudes. Several cloud styles are in evidence, and they wear fifty shades of gray and blue. Sunlight finds cracks and rushes down in bold pools of bright light but the air is chilly. 62 with a sullen wind, we expect 72 to define today’s high temperature.

Empty Bowls to raise money for our local food banks is tonight. My wife is busy setting creating the centerpieces for the tables. I used to be involved with it, but she gently moved me aside and replaced me with Barb. Barb just celebrated her 96 birthday, but she loves making centerpieces. It all works out.

I have daughters in my mind today. First my current novel in progress deals with mothers and daughters. And sisters. Those are important and complex aspects of the story told. Second, I have four sisters, and several of them deal with Mom as my proxy. Mom can be challenging and often frustrates my sisters. Frustrates me, too, but my sisters reach out to me to vent.

Third, I have another friend who was talking about her daughter. Her daughter irritates and annoys her; they clash in multiple arenas of thoughts. It surprises me. I know both women. They’re intelligent and good-humored individuals. Yet, they exasperate each other. I struggle to understand how and why that happens. But I’ve witnessed their interactions. Just an oil and water thing.

Thinking of daughters prompted Der Neurons to fire up Pearl Jam’s 1993 song, “Daughter”, in the morning mental music stream (Trademark streaming). It’s a song about a misunderstood child. It’s ending refrain is “The shades go down”, which reinforces the idea that something is going on that is hidden from the rest of us. The song always hooks my thoughts about the things which happen to children.

On that cheery high, I’ll press on to find my way through another day. Coffee has come onboard my effort and will help guide my energies. Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue. Here’s the music video.

Cheers

Friday’s Political Thoughts

A friend sent me this via Messenger.

“I were just talking to another girl at the Y who also supports Kamala and was saying that her brother who lives in Florida is a Republican and got hit by the hurricane and seemed like he was very stressed out so she sent him a couple of linksfor help I guess and he told her to take her crap and burn in hell.”

Reviewing Trump’s long yet growing destructive path, he’s inflicted several deep gashes. With his lies and seeds of hate, he’s made it okay to be hateful, racist, and sexist. Anyone outside of the MAGA circles of delusion are aware of this.

But he turned Americans sharply against one another. Republicans and Democrats could and can always be distrustful and suspicious of one another. But we were usually able to work together. Certainly we came together in times of disasater and need.

Trump has maligned that ability away. He’s introduced an element of deep distrust and outright hostility. He’s made it okay to not only distrust and even hate our Federal government, but to actively attack it as if it was the enemy.

Trump has turned Democrats and Liberals into ‘an enemy’. He frequently employs belllicose tones and theater to declare how Democrats and Liberals ‘hate our country’. Evidence is not offered but the relentless repetition has taken hold.

He declares, if people are not for him, they are the enemy and must be fought. Embedded in his targets of hate are anyone who doesn’t think, act, and look like him. Anyon who doesn’t kowtow to him and worship him as wonderful and great. He picked up that many people struggle to understand transsexuals, pansexuals, and gender and sex issues, and used that as an attack wedge to unite his base in hate.

Beyond what he’s done to women’s rights as a champion of anti-abortion, beyond what he’s done with making lying acceptable, beyond what he’s done to treat others as enemies, he has amplified our differences and declared that these people who are different are dangerous.

This is what makes him most dangerous. His lasting impact on our nation, regardless of the 2024 election results, is the great divide he has created in America in service of his greed and ego. That will take generations to mend. It can only be mended with education, exposure to one another, and trust.

The actions that he’s pledged to understake make it clear that he doesn’t want that divide mended. And the GOP that serves him agree.

This is why he — why they — must be stopped.

Vote blue.

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: Weathwonderizing

Today is Thursday, October 24, 2024. This kicks off October’s final week. Just seven days remain until November is asserted. Once November kicks on, it’ll be a ride. Time change in America, election in America, Thanksgiving in America…then the December holidays in America. Sorry to give the rest of the world short attention. That’s not my intention. It’s only that I expect November to be intense in the U.S. for multiple reasons.

Peering out the window, fog twirled and swirled, stealing in and out of the scene. But brave sunshine soon burst onto the scene.

With the fog, we were creeping through the low thirties. Sunshine kicked in and managed to kick the fog out and prop up a vividly blue sky. Now we’re romping through the forties, racing toward a high in the low 60s. This is autumn for sure but winter is slanting in.

Eyeing the fog’s weave around the trees, houses, and accoutrements of modern urban life brought up Foghat. Just apparently how my brain works. Soon “Fool for the City” rose in the morning mental music stream.

But as I watched, I rejected the song. Just didn’t feel right for the moment. The fog keep shifting, slinking in and sneaking out, coiling around trees and releasing. I kept judging the visibility. Now I could see further away…ah, but it’s back in and I can only see the houses and trees directly across the street.

From that litany of thought arose “What A Wonderful World.” The 1967 recording released by Louis Armstrong was the first, and it’s hard to top. But a while back, I heard a version by Chris Botti with Mark Knopfler. It was used at the end of an episode of the television series, “Bosch.” It struck me and I went off to hear it again on the net.

Besides Armstrong and Botti’s version, Willy Nelson’s soulful rendition and Joey’s Ramone heartfelt fast paced rock version captivated me. It’s hard to go wrong with the song’s words and the sentiments, if you like that sort of thing.

It is a wonderful world. I worry about humans screwing it up. We adjust it to our needs. Sometimes we’re pretty damn cruel and arrogant. I always have mixed conclusions about us exploring other worlds for that reason. I want the technological achievement, and I want to satisfy the intellectual curiosity of what else exists beyond this planet. But I don’t want us to ruin the other places. It remains a conundrum.

Coffee has invaded my body in a benign takeover. Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue. Here’s the music, friends and neighbors. Cheers

Wednesday’s Political Thoughts

If I were religious or ascribed to a diety, I’d say that they might be pissed after Trump’s Micky D Sunday stunt. First there was an E. Coli Outbreak, forcing them to pull quarter pounders. Next came some crashing stock.

All started with Trump’s appearance there. Just sayin’. Also, as others noted, while Trump wore an apron, he didn’t have the rest of the required gear, like hairnets. Just sayin’.

Of course, under the Trump administration and Project 2025’s goal to reduce regulations, this sort of things might happen more often. Just sayin’.

Vote blue.

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Funkawetday

It’s Wed-nesday, which originally meant wedding day. People of another age and era ‘wedded’ when the signs were most auspicious for success. That included planting crops, starting a new endeavor or business, starting a new journey, etc. But so many people waited for this day to be declared so they could wed that it became known as Wed-day. The ‘nes’ aspect was added in as adjustments between different dialects, cultures, and eras. True story which I just made up.

It’s October 23, 2024. You know what that means. That’s right, it’s almost time to set our clocks back in ‘Merica. No, I’m not making a clever reference about the election; we are not going back.

It’s cloudy, rainy, chilly. Autumn has thrown its full effects at us. Some of the foliage is wonderfully bright with sizzling scarlets and other red shades to brilliant lime greens and golds. Also spotted pumpkin-hued leaves on a tree. That tree was thinking outside of the bark. But alas, some trees have already dropped their splendor. Brown, curling leaves hang limply, drifting off when the right wing pulls them with a whisper.

45 F right now, we’re almost at our high of 49 F.

I’ll take that rain, though. Fill the reservoirs and cisterns. Replenish water tables. Ease us out of the drought. It’s needed.

Busy day. The centerpiece is a pre-op appointment for my foot issue. The office didn’t co-ordinate with me, which irritates me, but that’s more first world blues, innit? So I’m to be there at 12:25 for a 12:40. Right in the middle of my writing schedule. Add in the commute, etc, and the timing screws up the day.

But it had me propositioning myself about what to wear on a chilly day when I’ll be outside often but also inside, meeting with med staff, blah, blah, blah. The Neurons responded by firing up “Outside” by the Foo Fighters in my morning mental music stream (Trademark wet).

The song came out in 2014. Ima Joe Walsh and Foo Fighters fan. Been a Walsh fan since he and the James gang were rocking. This Foo song had a Joe Walsh guitar solo in it when it was released. Thrilled me to hear ol’ Joe rocking. Couldn’t find a copy of it online so I’m forcing this recording of a live version on you.

Be strong, stay positive, vote blue. Coffee and I have begun our latest collaboration. Here’s the music. Cheers

The Trump Dream

It was a wild night of dreams. The final remembered one was one of those types of dreams where it was like a movie. I was watching and removed, but also knew myself as a character.

In this case, I as Donald J. Trump. Yes, that guy.

Except, I was a little person.

I was Donald J. Trump as a little person, mango hue and all, wearing a poorly fitting blue suit with a long red tie.

To open, there had been murders. The police were questioning me (Donald Trump) and others about the murder. I was the murderer, but I was fooling the detectives. I thought I was getting away with it. So, I turned my back to the investigative scene and smirked with pleasure because I was going free. But I still eavesdropped on what was being said behind me about possible new evidence.

I, Donald J. Trump, murderer, had overlooked some potentially incriminating evidence. But knowing where it was I quickly stole away.

Moving casually but fast, I hustled along the small town’s winding roads until I reached a broad pond with a rocky shore. Three elderly men were in a small rowboat just off shore. They were drinking whiskey from bottles. Further out on an outcrop of rocks was a clear plastic toilet bag. Inside it were some small plastic bottles. I knew my DNA was on that bag. It would link me to one of the murders.

Noises were coming up from behind. A black female detective was striding forward. I called out to the three men in the boat in my Trump voice, “Excuse me, fellows, can you do me a favor? Can you reach over to that rock, get that bag, and toss it back to me?”

Number one, I was wearing white gloves, and pointed at the bag as I spoke. Two, the men were a little inebriated. My request needed to be repeated clarified. Understanding and agreement came. They rowed over and got the toilet bag.

But the detective had come up by now. A look of pure evil overtaking my expression, I called to the men, “Just drop that in the water, okay?”

The detective called out, “That’s evidence in a murder case. Please be careful and bring it to me.”

One of the men was holding the bag aloft. He looked from me (Trump) to the detective and back to me. Then he let go of the bag.

Plop it went into the water. The men chuckled.

Smirking, I said, “Thank you, fellows,” and walked away on my short legs.

I’d gotten away with it.

Dream end.

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