Category: pop culture

Sunday’s Theme Music

Heavy snow fell this morning for thirty minutes. Thick mythological flakes twirled and spun, building to a fast two inches. But the temperature was 36 and the sun cracked the clouds, and lo’, it melted in minutes. Now it’s wintingery again, dashing dark clouds, determined sunshine, uncertain winds chasing leaves.

It’s Feb 26, 2023, a Sunday. Sun’s warm light surmounted the southeasterly elevations at 6:51 this morning. We’ll stay in its presence until 5:57 PM.

Winter warnings are issued. The weather nerds say snow and rain every other day this week. Highs in the 40s to 50s during the day but pushing the mercury down in the mid-twenties at night. Last night’s low was 28 F. It’s now 42, which is our high.

Interesting news from sis-in-law. One, QVC is talking about a deal with her for her product, the CranioCradle. Two, she was in a car accident and now has a bad hip and can’t walk. They’re telling her she’ll probably need surgery. Her insurance company is taking care of everything, and she has Medicare to cover other costs. Still, it’s a pain.

We were out shopping in the changing conditions. — had to – Book Club in March, you know, K is hosting, you know — apparently the President and significant royalty from around the world is showing up, to judge from the planning and preparation — and I somehow between the axis of K’s zealous planning and the changing wintingery situation ended up with The Neurons plugging “Shelter from the Storm”. Guy named Bob Dylan sung it originally. Came out on one of his albums in the 1970s.

Stay pos. The shopping expedition flushed my energy away. It’s a lot of tedious standing around for me. It was just raining, then sleet, then snow. Now it’s sunny. The wind has gone on up the road. Monday is coming.

Here’s the music. Have a magnifico Sunday. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Saturday in Ashlandia. February 25, 2023. Plenty of sunshine heading our way. People walk dogs by the house. A few tightly encased joggers take the hill. A robin patrols the backyard. Scrub jaws hop the front lawn. Cats lap up sunshine in living room pools.

It’s 37 F now, up from sunrise’s 29 F. The sun’s entrance was 6:53 AM. Exit from Ashlandia is expected at 5:52 this evening, after we’ve gone into the fifties. About 97 percent of our local snow is melted. Icy pockets remain in hollows, dips, and shadowy places where the sun don’t shine.

The Neurons are playing “Bitter Sweet Symphony” by the Verve in the morning mental music stream. My wife and I heard it in the car while running errands yesterday. The song came out in 1997, after I’d been retired from the military for over a year, after I’d bought a new car, and was basically living a new life. The song was right for the time, which found my circumstances improving. When we listened yesterday, K asked about part of the song. “It songs like he’s singing ‘moan’ to me.” No, it’s mold, as in this is how I’m molded.

Papi wants out to scout the terrain and inspect his environment. Stay pos. I’m off for coffee and breakfast. I’m thinking about making savory oatmeal. Here’s the Verve. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

We’ve shifted back into standard Ashlandia winter mode. Dropping into the twenties at night, forties to fifties, all Fahrenheit, during the day.

It’s Friday. It’s Feb. 24, 2023. Sunshine broke in at 6:54 this morning, lighting up two fresh inches of snow. Was 29 F then. Now we’re up to 34 and the snow is melting. I saw the snow falling and accumulating as Papi made his usual declarations about being an outdoor animal and needing to leave the house, then changing his mind and demanding to come back in because he’s domesticated. The weather wizards inform us that we’ll see 46 F before the sun whisks away over the horizon at 5:55 PM.

Up north in Portland, friends share videos of heavier dumps, like ten inches. Meanwhile, a buddy down in Santa Cruz shows photos of several inches in his area. February is made for snow this year.

I had words in the head sometime in the last twenty-four heures that went, “Bring it on, here we are, win or lose.” I was contemplating the snow and drought and snowpack, and the associated variables that accumulate into our annual regional water concerns. Hearing my thoughts, The Neurons said, “Hey, we know that song,” and inundated my morning mental music stream with Float On by Modest Mouse from 2004. Jeremiah Green, the Modest drummer, passed away on the last day of 2022, cancer, 45 years old. I think of him because I enjoyed his drumming in this song. Reminders of our mortality are everywhere.

Stay positive. Carpes Friday. I’ll do the same after chugging some strong black roasted bean water. Here’s the tune. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Sketchy snow paints Ashlandia. Less than an inch in most places. A fine job has been done on the streets, walks, and drives. They are all white perfection, a canvas for car and animal prints.

Enough snow effect has settled that ambient noise is muffled. Footsteps, rolling tires, motor sounds, barks, snap out, intruders on the silence.

Winting in Ashlandia. Familar as summer wine.

Today is Thursday, 022323, the only time it’ll be 022323 for another hundred years. 27 F, a few wavering steps up from the overnight’s 23 F, ten steps away from the suspected high 37 F. The sun’s appearance was at 6:56 AM. Its light dazzles off the whites. Weather gnomes inform us the sun will shine on Ashlandia for forever or until 1753, whichever comes first.

The Neurons have slotted “Hanginaround” by The Counting Crows outof 1999 into the magic morning mental music stream. Came to me as I was in the coffee shop, editing, slashing, and pillaging a manuscript. Pausing to consider other regulars and their energies, I thought, man, this group hangs around here a lot, thirteen strangers united by a place. The Neurons fired the song up in memory within seconds and here we are the next morning.

Ah, it’s 32F now. Almost 10 AM. Sun has melted off the hard surfaces, but man is that reflected light bright from the rest. Stay pos. Pursue your Thursday activities and dreams. A cuppa coffee and I’ll learn to run. Here is the music.

Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

A small patch of blue sky threatens the fifty shades of gray above Ashlandia. Today is Wednesday, Feb 22, 2023. As Bill Withers sang, “Ain’t no sunshine.” There is daylight, coming to us since 6:57 this morning, illuminating the snow frozen across the ground. @ 33 F, the streets and walks are clear. The weather monitors note it feels like 33 F now, but we’ll punch 36 as a high before celestial mechanisms take our sunshine away at 5:52 PM.

For anyone tracking the stats at home, we’re into our final week of Feb, 2023. It’s the first final week of the second month of the year.

It’s warm in the house, thanks to all the connections which evolved through the centuries regarding gas and electricity, heat, walls, foundations, and roofs. Had the fireplace up last night. Thinking about fire prompted The Neurons to slot “Good Times Roll” by Jimmie Allen and Nelly from 2020 into the morning mental music stream. There’s a chorus line from the song about the good fire rolling. The song is an interesting sound, bit of country, bit of rock, a sound like something out of four decades past.

Stay pos. Make your midweek work for you. Give me so joe and I’ll get right on it. Here’s the music for your listening pleasure. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

7 AM. I open the blinds because I know sunrise was at 6:59.

No sun. Droves of fat flakes lash the window and veil the world. It’s 37 degrees F so it’s not sticking.

I meander through the house TCB. An hour later, I’m at the kitchen window. 37 F. Sunny as Florida.

Florida comes to mind because my wife spoke with her sister yesterday. Sis lives in Florida. She was in her pool. 80 F.

Back in Ashlandia, ten minutes later, it’s dark and gloomy. Low clouds hide the mountains.

It’s 37 F.

This is Tuesday, February 21, 2023. Winting rules Ashlandia. Weather sages tell us the high will be 42 degrees F later today, then we’ll drop into the twenties for the night. Snow is expected to fall after sunset at 5:51 PM.

10 AM. It’s a broken blue and white sky. No sunshine.

Papi, the ginger marvel, has been galloping around the house, wailing to be let outside, beating on windows to come back in. He is not a fan of winting weather.

I have “Jumper” (1997), Third Eye Blind, looping through the morning mental music stream. The cause mystifies me. The Neurons must have something in mind but they’re not telling me. Behind the song was a story of a high school committing suicide after being bullied about their sexual identity. The song was played for Republicans in 2015 at the convention to protest the GOP’s anti-LGBT positions.

Stay pos. Enjoy the weather as best as you can. It’s almost sunny here now. No, wait, clouds have skated in. It’s snowing. No, it stopped. Look, it’s sunny.

Here’s the tune. Where is my coffee?

Here comes the snow. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Woo hoo. It’s Monday, February 20, 2023, and we did it. Sunrise is at 7 AM in Ashlandia today. A surfeit of daylight and sun greeting me upon admitting Papi back into his house after his 6:37 excursion.

It’s Presidents’ Day in America. Time to sell some cars, furniture, and appliances at significant savings! Doesn’t change the weather. Winting stands strong, 29 degrees F at dawn, 38 F now, 62 F later. Dusk will resume around sunset, 1750. Winter warnings are out. Apparently, winter is coming back for another engagement.

“Faint” by Linkin Park (2003) plays in the morning mental music stream. There are lines in the song about not being ignored and don’t turn your back on me. I was trying to ignore Papi’s request to exit again (he’d come in fifteen minutes before, and the sun wasn’t yet up). I told him, too, “We’ve had this conversation. You need to stop going in and out. I need sleep, please.” His response was a yowl, which my FVD Mark IV said meant, “I will not be ignored.” Ah, said The Neurons, “here’s ‘Faint’ by Linkin Park.”

Here’s the music for you so you can see how music sounded twenty years ago. Stay pos and take over your Monday like a floof boss. I need coffee. Already ate waffles for breakfast. Maybe I’ll have a brownie with my coffee. For energy.

Here’s the tune. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

We clang into Sunday and draw up with a hiss of brakes. Slow down, you move too fast. It’s Sunday, February 19, 2023.

Many people accelerate activities on Sunday. This is the one day they’re free of other commitments like work and school. They rush around, getting things done, because this is Sunday, and this is the only day they have to get things done. They’re Sunday dynamos. My wife is sometimes like that.

37 F now, the weather cats tell me it’ll be 52 F for the day’s high. Winting still holds in Ashlandia. Sunshine that was turned on about 7:02 this morning illuminates a marbled blue and white bowl overhead. Sun time ends at 5:48 this evening.

Papi is at the office door, giving me the look. He’s talking to me now and again, small, high barks. Yes, he is a cat, but he likes to bark. Maybe he thinks I understand barking better than meowing. He’s wrong. I interpret his sounds by using my FVD – Floof Voice Decoder – Mark IV. The FVD tells me that Papi is either asking to go back outside, wants to play and be petted, or is telling me that people are breaking into the house. I pet him and let him out. I go out with him onto the back patio and enjoy winting, lapping lap up sunshine and cold, fresh air like it’s beer and nuts. Sunshine kisses buds on tree branches. Robins, scrub jays, and others are busy with food gathering and arguing. Papi goes on alert for whatever he can stalk.

Heads up, there’s winter storm advisory for Ashlandia for tomorrow.

Lot of personal stuff going on in my head. Nothing critical, just annoyances. The Neurons end up feeding “Waiting for the World to Change” by John Mayer, 2006. A little too mellow for my buds, it’s a good enough, and sums up my reaction to my frustration in the greater sense, I’m waiting for changes over which I have little control or input. That’s life, it seems.

Stay pos, and enjoy Sunday for what it is to you – a day of rest, worship, errands, or chilling. Some will be working. I’ll do my usual, head to the coffee shop and write, then back to the house for chores. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Happy Friday to the carousel riders. We’ve come around again.

It’s Friday, Feb. 27, 2023. The sun staked its claim at 7:05. Clear skies and sunshine hold court over Ashlandia while swelling clouds jealousy circle the valley and mutter threats about taking over. 34 F now, and the weather gurus say it will climb to 47 F before day’s end. Sunset: 5:46 this evening.

Nursing a sore ankle. Leaped off a wall, landed badly on uneven pavement, had to cruise on back home. No swelling or the like, just parts of it saying, “Hey, ouch, stop that, don’t do that.”

Musically, The Neurons have steered me to “Baby’s on Fire” by Brian Eno. I was late as a fan to him, getting introduced to him via King Crimson. Robert Fripp plays guitar on BoF, and it’s a wild, raw sound. Eno is in mind out of conversation with a percussionist friend. As we traded memories, I asked if he listened to any Brian Eno. His expression and voice blew up with enthusiasm. So, this one is for him.

Stay pos. Treat Friday right, or it won’t come again, right? Sure. Coffee is at hand. Here we go, Friday, here we go.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

The weather witches (it is too a thing) whisper to me that we’ll be functioning between 30 and 38 degrees F outside, as Winting continues holding on to Ashlandia. The sun blended in at 7:06 AM, a little heat, a little light, then suddenly shafts of brilliant bright, gone before you blink. Clouds will be hanging about throughout the day, Thursday, Feb. 18, 2023. Sunset’s moment comes at 5:45 PM.

Had a relaxing meetup with friends for beers last night, just eight of us for about ninety minutes at a local brewery, Caldera. Good to see them and reflect on news, culture, and life. A quick five was spent remembering horses’ names from movies and television shows. Silver, Buttermilk, Scout, Ol’ Blue, Hidalgo, etc. News of Raquel Welch’s passing had made the news just before we met up, so there was extensive conversation about 1,000,000 Years B.C. from 1967, followed up by a Quest for Fire and Caveman.

Despite the cold temperatures, Papi insisted on braving the temps to prove himself. He was out and then back in ten minutes later, as that sunshine just didn’t cut the cold enough. Part of that experience had be telling him, “I’m going to close the door in three, two, one,” before he made the dash. The Neurons pulled out a song called “After Hours” and slotted it into the morning mental music stream. “After Hours” was released in 1969 but I didn’t know it until the mid-seventies. Stationed at Clark Air Base on a unaccompanied tour, I picked up a Velvet Underground tape, and this song was on it. The Neurons keyed on the words, “But if you close the door,” which is repeated often in the school. It’s a sweet, mellow song.

The wife has a Zoom coffee call in the other room. People who used to live in Ashlandia, who were attending the Y exercise class — you know the one, led by Mary for the last thirty-five years, right? — wanted to see their friends and share their news. K has been attending this Mon-Wed-Fri class since we moved here in 2005. It’s been the key to many social connections, including the book club which she started with five other class members. Membership has changed but they continue to meet once a month. K hosts in March, which means we’ll be doing a big clean.

Stay pos, and carpe diem. I’ll carpe some coffee first. Here’s the music. Cheers

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