Summer is rolling into the valley. Today’s high will take us to 86 F, probably more around our house. Sunrise cruised in at 5:34 AM this morning and the valley sun tour will end with sunset at 8:46 PM. It’s presently 62 F on this Thursday, Jun 9, 2022.
I was having beers with friends, a weekly meeting outside. A local brewery, Caldera, was our host and provided us with the various ales and IPAs consumed. Eight of us, all vaccinated and boosted, fingers crossed, gathered. A ninth person joined us to tell us what’s happening with the local high school robotics club. It competes and we sponsor it, providing five hundred dollars each year through donations made when we have beers together. As the group broke up, my neurons started serenading me with the Red Hot Chili Peppers and their song “My Friends”, from 1995. Even a night of dreams didn’t shake it from its lodging in the mental music stream, where it remained this morning. It’s a reflective, introspective song, and I don’t mind it being there. I’m just singing along with the neurons. Maybe you will too.
Stay pos, test neg, and be real. Here’s the music for your morning listening pleasure while I boldly seek out new coffee. Cheers
The end of the world was coming in fourteen minutes, according to the news reports on television.
He checked his phone. Still no bars. The news said that the phone system was overloaded and several satellites had already been lost. Fox, NBC, CBS, ABC, and MSNBC were all saying the same thing. He couldn’t check the net because it was still down, probably so they could control the information. Control information, and you control the mind.
Yeah, it was all fake news and bullshit. Bleating to control the masses. Opening a beer, he turned the channel, searching for a ball game or some kind of sports distraction. Weird, but no baseball or basketball games were in progress anywhere. ESPN was off the air. So were the cable sports networks. He slammed his beer down, spilling some. Such fucking bullshit! This was a bigger hoax than the goddamn moon landing.
He turned on the oven and prepared to bake a frozen pizza. Better than nothing, because going out would require human contact and most humans that he encountered were idiots.
Glancing outside, he realized that he was hearing a growing roar. Well, what the hell is going on out there, he wondered. Picking up his gun, he went to the door and stepped out.
His last words were, “What the – “
Then the fake news slammed into him, disintegrating his body, gun, and home.
This is it, May’s last day. It will not be extended.
Yes, welcome to Tuesday, May 31, 2022. Back to work if you were off for the Memorial Day in the U.S.
We’ve returned to cloudy and warm weather today. Woke up to 59 F after the sun kicked in its light at 5:38 AM. The flip end of the sun’s presence comes at 8:40 PM today. Before then, we expect to see temperatures of 77 F. Yardwork has kept us busy as the rains encouraged everything to “grow, grow, grow”, leaving us with an unkempt landscape. Great seeing the bees abuzzing around the backyard’s weeds. It’s a weed zone, where we let weeds proliferate. The bees love it.
Today’s song emerged from conversations with friends and relatives about the state of the world and the state of the nation, and where we’re going. Thinking about that and change and direction, the neurons pulled up Roxy Music from 1982 and a song called “More Than This”.
I could feel at the time There was no way of knowing Fallen leaves in the night Who can say where they’re blowing As free as the wind And hopefully learning Why the sea on the tide Has no way of turning More than this – there is nothing More than this – tell me one thing More than this – there is nothing It was fun for a while There was no way of knowing Like a dream in the night Who can say where we’re going
Yes, who can say where we’re going? There’s always some indications but then shifts arrive. Something dramatic is pulled off. A galvanizing speech is made. A moderating influence is found, a new hope delivered. Who can say? History is full of downs and ups. Fingers crossed that we find something that pulls us from the brink and takes us into a new direction.
Stay positive, test negative, etc. I know, it’s a difficult challenge in the current news cycle. Still…try. And now, I will drink the magic elixir, coffee, and draw new hope and energy from it. Here’s the music. Cheers
Governor Abbott of Texas said after the Robb Elementary School shooting that guns weren’t the problem, mental health was the problem. But he’d just cut two hundred eleven million dollars to the state’s mental health budget to build a wall to keep them safe.
There was something wrong in the governor’s logic, but he’d not had enough coffee to figure it out. He didn’t know if he’d ever have enough coffee to deal with that logic.
Finally, some sunlight. It’s been a few hours since sunrise at 5:39 AM. It’s faded already, ducking shyly behind clouds, despite my exhortations, come out from behind the curtains and shine. We are expecting rain to continue today. Do admit, it was lovely being outside when the air was awash with petrichor yesterday. Felt relaxing and comforting.
Today is Saturday, May 28, 2022, part of the Memorial Day three-day extravaganza in the U.S. We’re not expecting warm temps here; 48 now, it should rise to 66 before the sun takes it sunshine elsewhere at 8:37 PM.
I have Depeche Mode’s song, “People Are People” from 1984 in the morning mental music stream. This is due to reading of Andy Fletcher’s death the other day after he passed on May 26 of this year. Fletcher was DM’s keyboardist. I saw him in an interview once. He was funny and self-deprecating, but intelligent, and I thought, that’s an interesting person. He was 60 when he died. The mind conducted a little ceremony, trying to remember actors, writers, musicians who were alive and dead, more a reflection of thanks for everything they did that made life more bearable for so many of us.
Anyway, the neurons paraded Depeche Mode songs through my head for the last few days, alternating them with Rolling Stone tunes. “People Are People” struck the neurons as a song that speaks to the political division in the U.S. and the world’s general aggro state, so they went with it. I concurred.
Stay positive, test negative, etc. It’s coffee time, the neurons tell me. Here’s the music. Cheers
Ah, today is Thursday, May 26, 2022. Sunrise came around without much surprise at 5:41 this morning. Clouds have strung out a thin haze on top of the blue sky. Today’s sun is weaker, thinner, milder. It’s 70 F outside. The high will probably find 76 around my house before the sun takes it light and moves on at 8:36 PM.
Today’s song emerges from many different things, partly from interactions with cats, but also from news and politics. The song is “Maybe” by Janis Joplin. Janis didn’t write it but did a great job of delivering it. My mind was full of maybes, you know, maybe this will happen, maybe people will wake up and changes will grow roots and places. Ultimately, I’m an optimist, always looking for the arcs of justice and freedom to bend toward equality, and for humanity to come together and find and develop solutions instead of whining, bickering, and backstabbing. But also, I went outside at 11:30 last night. The cats were out; Papi, aka Meep, the ginger blade, is usually out back. So I popped the door open and waited for him to arrive. Nothing.
The air was cool, the sky was clear, dark, and quiet, and the stars and planets and galaxies were up there, enticing me to step out and take them in. I was out there, breathing in air and admiring heavenly bodies, when I heard Papi’s familiar mewing. I called him; the mewing grew louder but more frantic. Although dark, I can usually discern his pale body. I couldn’t. I called again; louder and more urgent answers were returned.
WTF, over. I turned on the patio light to find him. Walking around, we engaged in call and response. And finally, thinking I was hot on his trail, I speculated, “Maybe he’s up in the tree.” He then looked down at me from the gutter attached to the roof about five feet above my head. Anyway, he got down fine on his own once I walked over to where the height difference between the fence and the roof was lowered to three feet. He jumped down there, no problem. I imagine that’s where he went up but that he became disoriented.
But that maybe, along with the other maybes, had stirred up the neurons. By this morning, “Maybe” was playing in the morning mental music stream. Yes, the song is about personal relationships, but I was hooked on that chorus – “Maybe, maybe, maybe.” Now, of course, I had to find a video or recording of it. Luck was with me as I found her on Ed Sullivan belting out “Maybe” in 1969. Love it when a plan comes together.
Stay positive, test negative, and enjoy this music while I enjoy coffee. Have a better day. Cheers
It’s a friendly sun arriving on this Sunday, May 22, 2022. Opening with bright sunshine at 5:44, a dappled blaze on the backyard, she followed up with warm caresses. The cats approve. Temperatures are up to 60 F, on their way to the mid-seventies. Although clouds sprinkle the blue cup holding us in, we don’t expect precipitation. The sun will pack up its sunshine and exit stage west at 8:32 this evening.
While it’s lovely here, other parts of the country are baking. Wildfires are raging in Texas and New Mexico. Europe is bracing for a heat wave. Haven’t seen what’s going on in Australia recently but I hope they’re enjoying a stretch of comfortable and non-threatening weather.
Reading recap of shootings and deaths in the U.S. brings today’s music to the morning mental music stream. First, I think that we should have a name for shooting deaths. You know, we have ‘hangry’ now and the like. Shouldn’t a shooting death be a sheadth or something? You know, call it out from the many other ways of death? Yes, there is murder, I suppose…
Speaking of murder, haven’t heard much about the murder hornets this year. Killer bees have also been out of the news, although bird flu has jumped back into my feeds. I bring it up after reading about the monkeypox. Children who survive wild weather twists, murder hornets, killer bees, shootings, COVID-19, and monkeypox will certainly have a lot to reminisce about in their middle years. Kind of like boomers reflecting back on telephone landlines, three television channels, and having to ‘manually’ change the channel but getting up and walking over to the device. Yeah, I guess it’s not the same. Oh, we did also have the nuclear threat, though, didn’t we? And other flus, and then, later, AIDs, hijackings and skyjackings, and several more wars. Does that make us even?
How many times, I wondered about several things while perusing news. Naturally, the neurons believed that I was asking them to sing the Bob Dylan classic, “Blowin in the Wind”. Bob asked some questions in the 1962 song.
Yes, 'n' how many years can some people exist
Before they're allowed to be free
Yes, 'n' how many times can a man turn his head
And pretend that he just doesn't see
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind
The answer is blowin' in the wind
Time is suddenly slowed for me. Like I was on Chronos Highway, speeding along, making, um, good time, when suddenly everything slowed down. Wonder how many others are feeling it?
Today is Friday, May 20, 2022. Sunrise spidered in through leafy boughs at 5:45 this morning. Sol will skedaddle from these environs at 8:30 PM.
It’s a clear sky, empty of clouds, but haziness hovers on the western horizon. Reflecting that clear sky, temperatures dropped to 35 F last night and sit at 42 now. We expect a high of 68 F. The cats are out digging the sunshine. I told them, “Don’t you put holes in the sunshine.” They were like WTF you talkin’ ’bout?
The neurons put nothing into the morning mental music stream. First no dreams are remembered, and then the neurons abandon their musical motif. Interesting Friday. Well, I lie a bit. The neurons did have “Time Is On My Side” sliding around the music stream for about seventeen seconds. I sat and wondered, what song should I put out there today? As I did, I came across a video of Tears for Fear playing “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” in 2022. With the primary elections in full swing in the U.S., Ukraine trying to fend off Russia, Putin threatening Finland and Sweden, Turkey saying “Nyet” to NATO, the GOP trying to undo established precedent and foster election corruption, and billionaires attempting to become trillionaires, I thought, “Why that’s a perfect song for this age and time, innit?”
Sure, the neurons said, yawning. Go for it. Which I did.
Regardless of the little neurons’ mood, I’m going for coffee. Care to come? Here’s the music while you decide. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 