Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I heard this song a few years ago, on its first release. I still hear it once in a while, and sing it to myself as I walk about Ashland in my pre-writing and apres-writing walks. The song’s beat and lyrics are marvelous complements to my natural stride.
Here’s Alice Merton with “No Roots” (2016).
“All you men,” she said,
“All you women,” he said,
“All you Republicans,” she said,
“All you Libertarians,” he said,
“All you Democrats,” she said,
“All you Greens,” he said,
“All you people who don’t vote,” she said,
“All you people voting illegally,” he said,
“All you reactionaries,” she said,
“All you slaves,” he said,
“All you gays,” she said,
“All you lesbians,” he said,
“All you blacks,” she said,
“All you whites,” he said,
“All you elites,” she said,
“All you apathetic people,” he said
“All you cops,” she said,
“All you military,” he said,
“All you illegal aliens,” she said,
“All you people on welfare,” he said,
“All you rich people,” she said,
“All you poor people,” he said,
“All you thieves,” she said,
“All you drug-dealers,” he said,
“All you addicts,” she said,
“All you criminals,” he said,
“All you killers,” she said,
“All you corrupted government workers,” he said,
“All you CEOs,” she said,
“All you teachers,” he said,
“All you parents,” she said,
“All you working women,” he said,
“All you Mexicans,” she said,
“All you communists,” he said,
“All you ignorant, uneducated people,” she said,
“All you snobs,” he said,
“All you people clinging to old ideas,” she said,
“All you fascists,” he said,
“All you NAZIs,” she said,
“All you Japs,” he said,
“All you Southerners,” she said,
“All you Northerners,” he said,
“All you people in rural areas,” she said,
“All you people in the cities,” he said,
“All you idiots,” she said,
“All you foreigners,” he said,
“All you Chinese,” she said,
“All you refugees,” he said,
“All you old people,” she said,
“All you young people,” he said,
“All you conservatives,” she said,
“All you libruls,” he said,
“All you white Supremacists,” she said,
“All you feminazis,” he said,
“All you atheists,” she said,
“All you Evangelicals,” he said,
“All you hateful assholes,” she said,
“All you whiners,” he said,
“You’re the reason we’re in this mess,” they said.
Just yesterday, I was walking along, thinking, here I go again, naturally downloading the White Snake song, “Here I Go Again” (1982).
Although I respected Coverdale’s skills and talents, except for Deep I never became a great fan of him. I tried. I had White Snake albums and Coverdale-Page (where I thought Coverdale often sounded like Plant, with the overall result that C-P sounded like Led Zeppelin), but I thought there was too much glam-rock to Coverdale after DP. I thought the glam-rock sub-genre was often derivative, simplistic, and repetitive.
That doesn’t stop me from thinking of this song when I take a deep breath and tell myself, here I go again.
Today, after awakening, rising, and feeding the cats, I began streaming a Bee Gees song called “Lonely Days” (1970). Don’t know what prompted my neurotransmitters to order this song today. I think it might have to do with rain. It was raining as I awoke, and stayed in bed, listening to it for a short period before thinking, “Must have coffee,” which prompted me to get up.
“Lonely Days” always strikes me as a rainy-day song. Something about its timbre reflects a gray, rain-swept landscape to me, a feeling that intensified as I walked on damp pavement and light drizzle.
Here you go. Have an excellent day.
How ’bout something uplifting on Sunday, like some Kenny Wayne Shepherd Band doing some “Shotgun Blues”?
A friend mentioned to my spouse that he’d just cleaned his dishwasher filter, and it was disgusting. As we’ve had our dishwasher for twelve years and had never cleaned the filter, we decided it might be prudent to do the same. How hard could it be, I thought with my usual cockiness.
I first consulted the dishwasher’s manual.
There was nothing in it about cleaning the filter. There wasn’t any mention of the filter at all.
Mystified, I went to Maytag’s website. The instructions for cleaning the filter didn’t make sense.
Turning to Youtube, I found an excellent instruction video by Tomahawk, and removed and cleaned our filter. It had some grunge but it was nothing like the one in the video. It took some time to remove some things to get to the filter to remove and clean it, which allowed my mind to stream music. One song streamed was “My Sacrifice” by Creed (2001). While laughing at that choice — look at how I’m sacrificing, cleaning the dishwasher filter — I enjoyed my memory of the song, so I present the song to you.
Streaming something outta my yewt, a Canned Heat cover of a gem called “Let’s Work Together”, 1970. Don’t know why that song came to me this morning.
Yep, it’s a mystery.
I dislike it when I awaken and can’t recall my dreams, but glimpse tantalizing pieces scudding through my mind like high clouds on a late afternoon day.
That’s today’s situation. I don’t know if it’s connected, but I then began streaming bits of Jeff Wayne’s musical “War of the Worlds”, 1978. I thought I’d share some of that, with the Black Smoke Band, Richard Burton narrating “The Eve of the War”, and Justin Hayward (Moody Blues) singing.
Today’s theme music, “What I Like About You” by the Romantics, 1980, is a repeat. It was originally the theme music for May 17, 2017, when I wanted to stream something upbeat. This song is upbeat, and strikes me as a throwback type of song.
I chose it for today because of a cat. They often infloofuence my music choices. Quinn, who is ill, came to me for comfort last night. I sang a variation of this song to him, making up lyrics to fit his personality, behavior, and description. He seemed to like it, offering purrs and kneading in response.
A & P was a grocery store chain. My stepfather worked at it, I thought, although he never spoke much about work. It was a well-known chain and abundant around the Pittsburgh suburbs where I lived from four years old until I was fifteen.
When I read John Updike’s short story, “A & P”, in English class in 1972, it struck me how vividly and accurately he’d portrayed the average store and its customers and employees. I had no plans to be a writer then. I just enjoyed reading. I preferred science fiction and adventure until then but then I read Catch 22, Catcher in the Rye, Pornoy’s Complaint, and Herzog, and my interests shifted.
A & P are gone now, only known through literature, entertainment, and memories.
