Category: pop culture

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: Raindamental

A light grey bolt of cloth stretches over our valley. Winds whip trees into wild gesturing. Accumulated moisture glistens on everything. This is Thursday, November 21, 2024.

A bomclone continues its hold on us, closing roads outside of the valley with snow and fallen tres, but we’re okay in our neck. 44 F, light rain, but hey, it feels like 47 F and it’s gonna strike 48 before daylight fades.

Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) is okay staying in with that weather raging outside but Papi the ginger blade is trying to set a new record. He’s been in and out six times today. I think he’s been inspired by Robert Heinlein’s cat and is looking for the door into summer. As my wife lets Papi in, she asks him, “Are you hungry?” Like asking him, “Are you an orange boi?” Hell yeah, he’s hungry, Papi hollers back. He hasn’t eaten in like fourteen minutes, the last time he left the house.

A moment for mock applause. Gotta hand it to Trump, he’s being proactive. No sense waiting for folks to become part of his administration to get corrupt. He’s gonna start with corrupt individuals and see how corrupt he can be. Like he’s angry at the nation and the concept of freedom and democracy and the public welfare and is out to destroy it via a rich man tantrum. I mean, have you seen the names and records he’s trusting to do his bidding? Hope his voters shrivel with shame and sink into the ruin they’re making of this nation. Yeah, I’m not bitter, angry, or disgusted. History will judge them harshly.

Thinking of summer, The Neurons begin working up summer songs. They finally emerge in the morning mental music stream (Trademark watery) with Superchunk and “This Summer” from 2012. It’s a song I rarely hear except when I’m tuned to satellite FM in the car and on an indie-oriented station. And while it’s about summer as we travel a trough of stoutly autumn weather, the lyrics kind of play into it. To get a little political (moi?), one of the lines go, “We can’t forget what we never knew.” Perfect epitaph for Trump voters IMO.

Get positive and remember your values and dreams. Coffee has entered my systems and is doing its thang. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Determoptimistic

November 20, 2024, finds us on a Wednesday. Gray and white clouds plaster the sky. 38 F and rainy out there. High will be four degrees north.

Winds are smacking the trees around. Tall conifers take the worse, swinging back from each punch, drunkenly rebounding. Began yesterday afternoon. By dusk, the wind was crooning around windows and corners. Then came sounds of winds running like tractor-trailers down the Interstate.

8:10 PM, blink, out went the power. People reported a bang. Others saw a large blue flash. Investigating crews found a surrendering tree had taken on a major power line.

My wife and I were in the snug when it happened. We turned off our computers. I moved through the familiar dark house, phone in hand in case I needed a light, to get a flashlight in a cubby by the foyer. Armed with it, I fired up the gas fireplace. We dug out candles and lit them, and several more flashlights, then checked messages and learned the tale of the outage via emergency texts.

Unknowing of how long the outage would be, my wife bathed by candlelit. The bath water was saved in case it got worse and flushing water was needed. Then she dragged out the Trivial Pursuit cards. We spent thirty minutes answering those, then we each armed ourselves with a flashlight and read. Fortunately, the gas fireplace kept us relatively comfy at 68 F.

Texts sent at 8:55 PM informed us the power would be back up within two hours. 10:35 PM, and the house beeped, chirped, and lit up as the power was restored. We learned we were the fortunate; a small section didn’t get their electricity back until this morning. Hope they all endured the night well.

Papi the ginger blade did not like this storm. Comfort couldn’t find him with all the noise. He finally decided outside, in his patio condo, was his safe space, staying there until just after midnight. About that time, the wind reset to a calmer level but rain poured out of the darkness. Papi came in to escape the wet, staying until sixish. Duty as patrol floof called then. Tail up, he bravely marched out.

Locally, I don’t spy damage on my street. Snow resides on pines and firs on the upper ranges. News reports are in that they’d closed the pass for snow on I5 from our southern exit to the California border.

Without revealing their reasoning, The Neurons invested the morning mental music stream (Trademark damp) with “Folsom Prison Blues”. Johnny Cash wrote the song, then recorded and released it n 1955. That was a year before my birth. It’s literally — and I ain’t talkin’ hyperbole here — been around my entire life. And I heard it. Mom had JC albums, so it was on there. Television liked Cash, and he showed up singing the tune on the small screen. Featured in movies, the rockabilly tune was heard on AM radio in cars and houses.

The Neurons may have pulled this up in response to a dream. I had a caper dream. Working with two other guys, we were stealing something but we’d been forced into it. They were setting me up, I found, so worked to subvert their plans. At the end, after all successfully passed and I was leaving, I found that one of the others knew of my plans and used them to save himself, in effect aiding me as he did. Fun dream.

Alright, let’s muster some positive energy. Coffee is in mug, ready to wash down my negativity. Here we go. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Weathicipation (when you’re awaiting a weather event)

Got my “Death Before Decaf” filled with hot black java, ready to fight off the forces of sloth, lethargy, and fascism.

It’s Tuesday, November 19, 2024. Cloudy and 39 F. Light rain and a high of 43 F is expected. Also expected is a bomb cyclone. (I’d just call it a bomclone. But that’s me.) It’s expected to bring high winds and heavy rain to our area. Thing is, our location in the pinched end of a valley sometimes protects us from these things. Fingers crossed.

Have to pause to just say that Rep. Mike Johnson, R-Bullshit, is maintaining the MAGAt tradition of lies and hypocrisy. This devout Christian is earnestly protecting ex-rep Matt Gaetz, R-Gag. MiJo claims that MaGag is a private citizen. Therefore, the ethics report on him should not be released. Apparently, to MiJo, it’s not important what an ethics investigation paid for by WTP discovered about MaGag’s behavior and ethics. No matter your politics, WTP should be outraged. We have a right to know. We paid for it and MaGag was supposed to be working on our behalf, representing our nation and our values. But that’s classic MAGAt BAU. Lie, cheat, obsfucate. Point of order brought out by others, plenty o’precedence exists for releasing the MiGag ethics report. As a final f’instance, Hunter Biden‘s status as a private citizen meant nothing to MiJo. It’s the ol’ GOP double standard, and it’s putting off an unholy reek on Capitol Hill these days.

With thoughts of a bomclone bearing down, The Neurons threw songs with ‘bomb’ in the title into the morning mental music stream (Trademark flooding) mix. While the Gap Band was representing, the Runaways overpowered it with “Cherry Bomb”. The all-female rock group released the song in 1976. It did okay, nothing great, but its driving beat and inherent attitude has gotten it a place in movies and television shows. So you might not have heard it when it was riding the airwaves but you may have caught it in other media.

Get up, let’s go, time for another day. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: coldcoffeecomforted

Monday began with my wife’s comment. “If you think yesterday was crappy, wait until you see today. It’s crappier.”

“Why?”

“Cold fog and rain all around us. There’s no sun at all.”

It’s November 17, 2024. Thanksgiving in the U.S. is just a lick away as fall’s descent toward winter continues. 35 F now, it feels like 42 they tell us, but the day’s high will be 36 F. Hope it can feel like 60.

Voting with their legs, the cats agreed with my wife’s assessment. Papi went on exploratory runs but soon returned, pounding on the front door glass. A trip to the refueling station followed, and then it was off to sleep out the day.

I’m close to doing the same. Foot/ankle much better, just twinges and spikes of pain and discomfort, with brief squalls of swelling.

“Still Alive and Well” had been voted in by The Neurons as today’s theme music. The ’73 Johnny Winters song was on a live album I enjoyed as a budding young adult and has housed itself in my morning mental music stream (Trademark still streaming).

Coffee has been ingested. Be strong, get positive, hold fast. Here we go.

Cheers

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Mistday’s Theme Music

Mood: dhilldown

We bounced into a misty Sunday. It’s 48 F, up from 38 F. Mist dominated the morning. Rain dropped for a while on this November day, then sunshine blasted through. Now it’s like mist from a walk-in freezer is rolling over us. This pattern cycles throughout the day.

It’s the 17th. We’re slinking toward December, the holidays, and the end of 2024.

The shifty weather has the cats floofboozled. Is it warm, is it dry, what’s going on? Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) tested it once. Papi has campaignd for a revolving door. Now both are in, dry, warm, napping.

Foot and ankle recovery was set back. Some bleeding. Lot of swelling. Ice and Salan Pas applied, with lots of rest with an elevated foot. Feeling much better today, but I’ll continue a slow roll of recovery.

With mists swirling through my awareness, The Neurons cranked the mental music box handle. Up popped Led Zeppelin with “Misty Mountain Hop” into the morning mental music stream.

Be positive and hold fast. Coffee was skipped. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: cloudark

Bit of a darkly mood today. Overdid it with my ankle, pressing to get better. It told me in manners aligned with surgery and lack of use over a few weeks that it didn’t appreciate what I was doing. So now, resigned to slowing down, taking my time. This is one of those situations where a strength becomes a weakness. My strength is a high tolerance to pain and discomfort, and an ability to ignore or overcome them without meds. Doing so with this ankle is clearly screwing up my recovery. With my wife’s *ahem* coaxing, I’m cooling it.

It’s a bleak day out there. Leaves have abandoned the trees and are drunkenly sprawled over the land. Dipped to 30 F for an overnight low. Sluggish sunshine is barely overcoming the cloud wall sealing in the valley in gray and black. Showers and a high of 42 F is on the charts. We’ve been having days of rain. Some has been solid and heavy. Okay, cuz we need rain to refill everything and soothe the earth. More important is snow. Necessary to bank on for the dry, hot months, snow is beginning to gather on the higher mountains.

Hmmm: interesting book title: “The Gathering of Snow”. All kinds of inherent possibilities.

The cats are slowly coming to claws with recognition that the season has shifted into a colder and wetter period. Less demands to let ’em out are noted. Both prefer cozying up at a warm indoor spot over darting back outside. That pleases me; rather have them in. Nurse Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) still hovers over me, sleeping alongside me as I nurse myself back to full functioning.

With convalescence going and a lot of time to think, The Neurons took trips into memories of other injuries, illnesses, sicknesses, and being laid up. Has happened a lot. Started as a child and hasn’t let up. That slowly opened the door for “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper to pop into the morning mental music stream (Trademark repeating). Other than my thoughts about being in recovery time after time, nothing in the 1983 song relates to my situation. Doesn’t stop Der Neurons! It’s an enjoyable song in my estimate about romance, missing a loved one, waiting while enduring their absence.

Let’s get positive, and hold fast. Here we go, another day in the life of. Coffee has been procured and is being consumed. I am at the laptop, foot propped up on a chair, black and white cat snoozing on the floor beside me.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Recalibrating

Chilly. Cold. Bleak as the moors below shifting dark clouds and undependable sunshine. Real stay in and have some hot food weather, if you can.

It’s 41 F and won’t get much warmer. The damp hand delivers a new chilly flavor. Fall — autumn, if you prefer — has a two-handed hold on Ashlandia.

Pause. Let me tell you. I was most disturbed to see Trump carried my county by seven points. Like, WTF, over? Distrust of my fellow local citizens is hepped up. I don’t know what you people are thinking goes through my mind as I consider strangers and workers. You might be one of those leaning to an authoritarian state. How can I ever trust you again?

While we were talking about the 2024 election results and its impact on American values, mores, and norms, my wife brought up some history. She reminded me of the fifties and sixties in the U.S., and how many women were self-medicating to cope. Would that be repeated in this new MAGA era?

Part of that conversation impelled me into territory about how it was so widespread, it was recognized as part of popular culture in books, movies, and songs. “The Graduate.” “Mother’s Little Helper.” “Valley of the Dolls.” “Rabbit, Run.”

It’s the latter that flashes through the morning mental music stream (Trademark endangered). The Neurons have always liked the Rolling Stones’ song about pills being abused.

Here we go, another day. One step after another. Regrouping. Moving on, pressing on.

Yes, I have had coffee today. The first in over two weeks. Good to have my old friend back in my system.

Here’s the music.

Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Wetwednestating

October’s penultimate day has arrived. Wednesday, October 30, 2024. Less than a week until the election.

It’s a pretty autumn sunrise, a potpourri offering of soft, long clouds decked in faded blues shading into gray, and puffier masses of white with a brooding gray venture. Blue sky is dabbled in with random ideas. Sunrise flecks through in the east, delivering sunshine, lining some urban pieces of buildings, trees, lines, and poles with decorative golden outlines. They come and go in blinks as clouds restlessly shuffle.

My systems declare that it’s 37 F outside the windows. The high will be 51 F. Maybe 52. Maybe 50.

Papi the ginger blade has gone in and out, his testament to the fact that it’s pleasant but cold. Rain…might be coming but buckets won’t be used for the delivery. Scattered and light, I think it’ll be more like we’re being sprayed with cheap water pistols. The kind we used to buy at GC Murphys. They looked like Lugers. Came in red, yellow, green, and blue. I never saw a purple one.

Happy birthday, Dad! Called him Monday and gave him birthday wishes. Thinking of him with fondness today.

My ankle surgery is scheduled today. I feel good. Slept well. A med team rep called yesterday to update schedules and arrangements. I was informed I could have coffee and water until 8:15 AM. So this morning, I rose, made coffee, and chugged that puppy down. Also drank about sixteen ounces of water. I’m happily wired and hydrated. Getting hungry, though. My stomach is used to being served early. Now it’s raising a grumpy head to mutter about being in need of a little something something. Hush, I tell it. Not today.

I start thinking of Wednesday songs.

“Wednesday I’m in Love”

“Wednesday Afternoon”

“I Don’t Like Wednesdays”

“Wednesday Nights (Alright for Fighting)”

“Wednesday Morning Coming Down”

“Pleasant Valley Wednesday”

Yes, none of those are Wednesday songs. They’re for Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays, Mondays.

Only one Wednesday-themed tune eventually drifts out of memory and breaks through the waves of thinking. Called “Wednesday,” more time is needed to summon bits out of other regions of memory. A melody begins, an instrument is weakly heard, pieces of lyrics pop up. More comes together with a little straining. Suddenly there comes a solid female voice. Identification takes a few more minutes.

Oh. Tori Amos. “Wednesday”. Can’t recall what year. More time passes. I drift into thinking about other matters as the cats ask for treats and my wife and I chat. Then The Neurons begin playing more of the reflective Wednesday ditty in the morning mental music stream (Trademark Wednesday). I finally search online to hunt down the full tune. This vexes Der Neurons. “No, no, give us more time,” they shout. “We’ll get it, we’ll get it.”

I spurn their protests. Sure, they’ll get, but it’ll arrive about two AM. I want it now. Those words briefly trigger Queen singing, “I want it all, and I want it now.”

Stay positive, be fresh, remain calm, and carry on. Coffee has carried me to my happy place. Here’s the music. Remember, vote blue. Have a good Wednesday.

Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Wetuesdation

It’s a sky clash out there. Heavy clouds are taking on the western mountains. Sunshine is bullying the east. It’s a mixed scene of rain and wet fuzz, bright light and cold hopes. Temperatures are revolving around the mid forties, but ‘lo, they’ll heave up to the low fifties later today.

This, friends, is Ashlandia on Tuesday, October 29, 2024.

Happy birthday, Mom!

I’ll call her later to chat. I called Dad for his b-day, which is tomorrow. I told him that I can only endure chatting with one of you a day. He laughed and understood. It was part humor and truth. Humuth.

And then I turn around and see that Teri Garr died. Just 79, she was an actor I enjoyed since I was a young high schooler. (Just for the record, I don’t divide the world in actors and actresses. They’re all actors to me.) I really enjoyed Teri Garr in several roles but Full Moon in Blue Water was a personal favorite.

“I Wanna Be Adored” by The Stone Roses is today’s music. Don’t know why The Neurons have it in the morning mental music stream (Trademark shaky). Song was released in 1989. The lyrics are not much. The song starts with a quiet build. First times hearing it, my reaction was, what happened to the music? But then it unfolds into something else. Always manifests dreamy nuances, like the lyrics are far-away thoughts trying to find focus.

Be strong, stay positive, and vote blue. Coffee and I have again achieved a mutual support agreement. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Flooftet

Flooftet (floofinition) – Small group of animals of different species, sizes, and ages. A flooftet is considered more than two but less than nine. Origins: Internet, circa 2015.

In Use: “When Maria entered the living room, she discovered a flooftet looking at her. The bird and rabbit seemed floofchalant, but the cats and dogs wore guilty expressions, as if she’d caught them plotting.”

In Use: “Movies about flooftets, such as Homeward Bound: the Incredible Journey from 1993, often attract audiences who enjoy warm and humorous adventure romps starring animals.”

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