Floofbbing (floofinition) – Ignoring someone with you and and giving attention to animals instead. Origins: 2020, United Kingdom.
In Use: “As the pandemic took over 2020, many people forced to stay home became more interested in animals, especially housepets, and floofbbing, which was aready frequently a de facto issue in many homes with pets, began to rise, affecting relationships among people.”
Recent Use: “Reading about floofbbing and its impact on relationships, Michael realized he was also guilty of wriubbing (the i is silent), ignoring someone and giving attention to writing instead. But then, he rationalized, people were also guilty of gaubbing — ignoring others to play games — and reubbing: reading or paying attention to a book instead of another person with them. Hell, there were probably problems with coubbing (computers), chiubbing, too, which would be children, and even trumbbing, ignoring another to focus attention on former POTUS Donald Trump.”
Good morning. Today is Saturday, December 2, 2023.
I am so aggrieved today. Not due to the weather. 41 F with a high of 48 F in our sights, it’s been raining, and snow tops the northern ridge that marks our valley’s boundary. So, the weather is standard late fall trope for our area, cold, misty, dull and wet, something worthy of being the backdrop for a dystopian trudge as the earth’s course leads us around the sun and into winter.
No, the issue is that it is December and the parties and activities commence. We’re due to appear at several already, all due to my enchanting wife, who has a strong friend base who likes her and enjoys her presence. As several are couples things, I’m invited, too. I know most of the people, so they’re not strangers, and I want to be the right person, supportive of her as she is for me, but that means leaning way out of my preferred mode of being alone and writing. It also means I must play reindeer games, the term I coined decades ago for cleaning up and dressing up for December parties and activities. Top of the list is a haircut. After being required to have haircuts all the time for the military and then frequently when I was in marketing, I dislike worrying about my appearance. I tell her that I don’t need a haircut because I’ll be with her, and everyone will be looking at her, but she’s adamant that because I’m beside her, I must look pretty, so I will do so.
Yes, on the one hand, I’m being petty, complaining about being forced out to social engagements, truly a first world whine. On the other hand, going to these things is completely against my nature, and uncomfortable for me because I’m socially awkward. Yeah, that’s my problem.
Today’s music starts with making the cats’ brekkie. I’m cleaning bowls when The Neurons remind me of the movie, Twins, with Arnold Schwartzenegger and Danny DeVito as the starring twins. From there, The Neurons poured the airplane scene where Arnold’s character has left his island home and is off to find his twin. Exposed for the first time to rock and roll, he’s listening on headphones and singing, “Yakey Yak” out loud, disturbing/slash amusing the other passengers. Now that’s song in my morning mental music stream (Trademark cyclical).
The song by the Coasters came out a few years after I was born in the late 1950s. I guess I heard it on the car radio, and the melody, lyrics, and voices appealed to me, because those words are seared in my mind. Some of them were used by Mom, “Don’t you give me a dirty look,” or variations such as, “Don’t give me that look.” She also liked to sing the song to me when I went to her with a request sometimes, depending on her mood.
Lean forward, be positive, and stay strong. Happy holidays. Just had my Saturday morning coffee. Here’s the music. I’m off to get a haircut. Cheers
Today is December 1, 2023. It’s Friday in Ashlandia, where the rain pours down like it’s Okinawa. We used to get some mighty downpours there.
Let me pause here to go turn over the wall calendar’s page. Made by Pete Lyons, it’s devoted to the racing I watched and followed when I was a teenager.
So it’s cold, 38 F, and rain comes down at an unrelenting pace. Wonder comes, will the sky ever run out of rain, which triggers story ideas to muse over as I feed the cats and sip my coffee. Then it’s to the news, where two large stories dominate in the morning cycle
Former Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor died, and Rep. George Santos was expulsed from the US House of Representatives. Both are news of a historic nature. Justice O’Conner was the first woman appointed to the SCOTUS. Took just over two hundred years from the time the court was established in the early days. Progressives like me were pleased because, hey, a woman has finally arrived in a place of power and respect in the US government, but also dismayed because she’s white and conservative. Can’t have everything.
At least O’Connor upheld Affirmative Action, and ended up supporting Roe v. Wade when its foundation was challenged. In the 1992 case, Planned Parenthood v. Casey, Justices O’Connor, Kennedy, and Souter, three conservative, Republican-appointed justices, surprised us with an opinion that reaffirmed the “core” of the 1973 precedent. It was an interesting opinion as they said that overtuning the precedent in the face of 1992’s political pressure would cause “both profound and unnecessary damage to the court’s legitimacy, and to the nation’s commitment to the rule of law.” That seems like what we’ve seen with Roe v. Wade being overturned by the current court, as it’s polarized the nation’s politics in a massive way and has many wondering about the SCOTUS court and its legitimacy, fearing that it’s become thorughly politicized by the right wing.
Much of my memory about O’Connor’s rulings and point of view was aided by the NYTimes’ story about her today. I thought this paragraph gave a good overarching summary of some of Justice O’Connor’s position on the matter of separation of church and state in a 2005 case.
In a 2005 case, McCreary County v. American Civil Liberties Union, she joined a 5-to-4 majority in invalidating the display of framed copies of the Ten Commandments on the walls of courthouses in Kentucky. Respect for religious pluralism had served the country well in contrast to other societies, she wrote in a concurring opinion, adding, “Those who would renegotiate the boundaries between church and state must therefore answer a difficult question: Why would we trade a system that has served us so well for one that has served others so poorly?”
As for George Santos, he’d been found to have told so many outrageous lies while practicing both shady campaign finances and personal finances, a plurality of the House Representativs finally decided it was enough and booted him. Those of us on the left cheer, “About damn time.” We felt he should never have been elected and his expulsion should’ve happened long before this, but at least it has happened.
Today’s theme music is rooted in last night. Looking at the clock as I was reading, I realized it was coming up o midnight. I thought, I’ll wait until midnight, and then get up and yadda, yadda, yadda. When I did get up to get ready for bed a few minutes post midnight, The Neurons began spinning “In the Midnight Hour” by Wilson Pickett, where it remains in the morning mental music stream (Trademark floundering). The song came out in 1965 (I looked it up), when I was nine. I don’t know when I first heard it, but it’s woven into my musical being as part of what shapes me. It comes on, and my head bops and my body sways. I snap my fingers to the beat, and sing the lyrics.
Stay positive, lean forward, and be strong. I’ve been drinking coffee, and I’m verge of finishing my morning cuppa. Here’s the video. Cheers
It’s 39 F outside in Ashlandia, where the skies are cloudy all day. Clouds smudged with dark shadows collide above, smothering sunshine, undermining warm temperatures, and dribbling and spittin’ on us. It’s Thursday, November’s final day of 2023, i.e., the 30th. Tomorrow, we take it to December, and December brings it to us. It’s getting darker and colder as the day slides into afternoon, like fall is ready to surrender to winter.
I’ve been reading many news articles, ranging from straightforward local news to updates on various trials and political issues, elections, war, disasters, science, and technology. Many of these things are wearying as so much of it has been written about with little changing; I await endings just to give me a break. I suppose I could take a break from it all but I appear to edge toward being obsessive compulsive about some of it.
The most exciting news to me was a story in the NYT about six planets orbiting in resonance around a star 100 light years away. Twelve telescopes were used to observe this and put it all together. Scientists say that such orbits in a solar system takes place “1% of 1%” of the time. They believe that when planets form and the solar systems begin, this resonance happens but then events take place to disrupt the orbits. Finding a solar system like this provides them an opportunity to study how the orbits change, a sensational learning opportunity.
For theme music today, The Neurons have installed OneRepublic with “Secrets” (2009) in the morning mental music stream (Trademark treacherous). This all comes down to the manifest insincerity I read about in so many news articles about complex issues. It’s a large catalyst to the weariness coming down on me. I mean, it’s one thing to read about issues but quite enough to gag through loads of insincerity presented in the articles. See, a line in the song goes “I’m sick of all the insincere”. That’s where the connection comes up.
Let’s take Senator Tommy Tuberville of Alabama, ex-college football coach. He seems to live in Florida, according to records.
“As of last month, Tommy Tuberville did not own a single square foot of property in Alabama after selling parcels in Macon and Tallapoosa counties for $1.4 million, according to a Washington Post report published Thursday.
“And while a spokesman for Alabama’s senior senator maintained to the Post that Tuberville’s primary residence is an Auburn house owned by his wife and son, campaign finance documents and property records suggest Tuberville’s main home is in Santa Rosa Beach, Florida, the paper reported.“
“The sale of the Alabama properties were notarized by a Santa Rosa Beach resident, which the Post reported suggested the senator was in Florida when the transaction went through on July 14.
“The report went on to say that Tuberville’s wife, Suzanne Tuberville, is a licensed real estate agent in Florida and has worked for a Santa Rosa Beach real estate firm since the start of the year. She does not have an Alabama real estate license, according to the Post.”
Senator and Mrs. Tuberville sound like fine Alabama citizens, perfect reps of their people, even if they don’t seem to live among their people, don’t they? (Yes, that could have been snark.)
It bothers me even if his constituents aren’t concerned because it strikes me as counter to the ideal of a representative democracy and the founders’ vision about what they were trying to create in their idea of a government by and for the people. It’s another ethics lapse for Tommy T in my mind, but then I’m predisposed against him.
Some of my reasoning against him is that he’s holding up military promotions, basically having a hissy fit and behaving as a terrorist to coerce change on the military while undermining the US military’s strength and stability. That’s particularly galling becaue he claims he’s a great supporter of the military. Of course, he’s never served, because the military isn’t that important to him. (Yes, I definitely detect snark there.)
Tuberville so supports the military that he founded the Tommy Tuberville Foundation “to recognize and support organizations and causes that connect with the beliefs and values of the Tuberville family: assisting our military and veterans; awareness, education and prevention of health issues, particularly among women and children; and, education and community initiatives.”
“Through its first five years, the foundation raised $289,599 but spent just $51,658 on charitable causes, tax records showed.[56]This rate of 18% is less than the 65% that the Better Business Bureau says ethical charities should spend on their causes.[57] In 2020, the Associated Press called the Tuberville Foundation “a questionable charity that raises money but gives very little away”.[58] Foundation officials said the tax filings did not reflect volunteer labor and donated materials used to refurbish veterans’ homes.[59]
“In 2020, The New York Times reported that Tuberville campaign and foundation officials “produced internal records for 2018 that showed nearly $20,000 was raised for a temporary project to provide a retreat for veterans. But the records raised bookkeeping questions, since they showed more than $61,000 of 2018 revenue, roughly twice what the charity reported to the I.R.S. that year”.[60]
In 2021, the Washington Post reported, the foundation “reported it had $74,101 in revenue and spent just 12 percent of that, or $9,000, while $32,000 went to administrative costs (including nearly $12,400 to pay off a truck the charity purchased in 2018 for $27,369)”.[61] By the end of 2021, the foundation’s website had gone defunct.[62]
“In July 2023, a spokesperson for Tuberville said that the foundation had been under audit and had paused its activities, but that Tuberville was reforming it.[61]“
h/t to Wikipedia.org, emphasis mine.
Do you get how I mean that reading about Tuberville reeks with insincerity that fills me with nausea?
Anyway, have a better day, stay positive, be strong, and lean forward. Coffee has been slurped up on my end, and I’m ready to sit inside and take on the cold rain.
It’s Wednesday, November 29, 2023. If you’re counting the days, November has just one more, and then December steps up to assert her presence.
A hazy shade of winter rules out there, even though it’s technically still autum, with gray cotton-candy clouds smothering sunshine and blue sky. Temperature has climbed to 35 F from the overnight low of 28 F at my house. Still dry, we still have a stagnant air warning. The air quality is moderately down because people are using their fireplaces and much of the smoke stays in the area, affecting breathing, eyes, etc.
My wife made me laugh last night. She frequently does, although the way I put, it sounds like a rare thing. Anyway, the cats had me surrounded, one on the floor beside me to my left, one beside the computer on the desk, paw on mouse to my right. I was mildly complaining about them because I was trying to get something done and they were hampering me. “Look how they look at you,” she said. “They’re like, he’s so dreamy.” LOL
Politics influenced The Neurons and their music choice today. Is that a surprise? My wife was The Neurons’ influencer. Trump and his supporters dismay her. She’s a lifelong feminist and social activist, with a long history of standing up for others and fighting for change. So, after reading some Red State news to see what was going on there, she made comments along the lines of wishing Trump was gone. I later discovered I was humming a song to myself. When I stopped to challenge what it was, I couldn’t quit remember it, to The Neurons’ delight. But this morning, I thought about it again, and bang, “I’ll Feel A Whole Lot Better” by The Byrds (1965) cranked up in the morning mental music stream (Trademark ancient).
I initially heard the song from AM radio when it came out when I was nine. Mom usually had music on in the car as we accompanied her when she was shopping and running errands. This being 1965 and later, the cars would’ve been her big white Chevy Impala convertible or her equally huge brown Buick LeSabre. Both had interiors the size of small living rooms, with steering wheels worthy of guiding the Titanic. While I heard it there, though, I learned the song more from my older sister. She had the album, Mr. Tambourine Man. I sharply remember its faded album cover, worn from being slid around. Her little record player was only good for 45s, so she had to ask Mom for permission to playher 33s on the big Magnavox console stereo in the living room, or take her albums to a friend’s house to play them. She played it often enough around me that I later played a bit of it on guitar when I began trying that instrument. Of course, Tom Petty did the song in 1989 on one of his albums, reviving memories of the original.
The song is a quite mellow folk-pop tune. The line in it behind the childhood connection and Trump and his hateful, authoritarian stances is, “And I’ll probably feel a whole lot better when you’re gone.” She and I agree that we will feel better when Trump is gone. Given his diet and overweight appearance, stress from campaigning for POTUS while screaming at people till he turns purple, all while enduring four trials, coupled with his denial about his health, she and I wouldn’t be surprised if a stroke or heart attack felled him within the next few months.
Stay pos, be strong, lean forward. Coffee is delighting my taste buds even as I write. Here’s the music. Cheers
It’s November 28, 2023, a Tuesday. Only seventeen hundred billion shopping days until Black Friday/Cyber Monday/Last Chance Tuesday and Special Deals Wednesdays ads, commercials, mailers, and emails are gone. Then what will we do?
The furnace is busy this morning in Ashlandia, where summers are hot and spring is above average. Faintly gray and softly weak clouds malinger in the blue sky. Awakening temperature was 28 F outside. Inside was a chilly 62 F but at least I was inside and could turn on the fireplace and furnace to warm the house. I count that as a win. We are working our way up through the forties, with expectations that we’ll level off in the mid-fifties.
The floof masters have decided all will be better served by staying in during these cold hours. I appreciate that, as we also have the stagnant air advisory going on, and my nose is feeling it a bit. I worry what it does to the cats. My preference would be that they’re more permanent house cats, going out to nap in the backyard when the air is clear, the sun is bright, and the temperatures are comfortable. But the floofbeasts are obstinate little buggers; it’s one of their main strengths.
Today’s theme music was not a gift from The Neurons. Nor was it dream inspired, or triggered by some conversation. No, I have “Mrs Robinson” by Simon & Garfunkel rounding through the morning mental music stream (Trademark inept). This was inspired by Jill Dennison’s blog about the song. She featured it as her song choice this morning, and tells the story about how the song developed and ended up in the movie, The Graduate. I found an interesting recording of S&G playing it in Central Park, NY, in 1981.
Stay strong, be positive, and keep leaning forward. Hot coffee is being freshly consumed. Here’s the video. Cheers
Lovely fall day is on display today, Monday, November 27, 2023. 45 F under a sunshine drenched blue sky with another stagnant air advisory out for Ashlandia, where the deer are above average and the bears are like Yogi — not. Time is blocked out for activity so I’m spinning this fast.
Gonna be 53 F today. A memory came up of a November snowstorm experienced four years ago. That’s looking out my front window. I did the usual whining about the cold and the inconvenience back then but also was thankful for the snow to help end the drought, which was severe in those days. We’re still working on getting out of it but it’s much better this year, knock on drywall; there were no penalities levied on us for our water use and no cutbacks or limitations announced this year.
Responding to his most royal Floof Papi the First and his 3 AM door service directives, as I walked by a window, I was taken aback, even though the blinds were drawn. Looked like a big ol’ spotlight was trained on my residence. I quickly had ideas that some crime was underway and the police had the place surrounded with a mega spotlight blowing up the scene for all to see. I thought, “There’s something happening here. What it is ain’t exactly clear.” I pulled the blind up to see if there was a man with a gun out there. But it was but a sky cleared away for a Beaver Moon to shine down on us. Let me tell you, without any heavenly obstructions, that moon was a bright puppy. I would have stayed out admiring it but I was half naked and barefoot, and the air temp was settled around 36 F.
The Neurons suggested The Logical Song by Supertramp, 1979, sliding it into the morning mental music stream (Trademark woke) for my AM entertainment. The suggestion was certainly born from my wife and I discussing various things and concluding how much of what we read or saw via videos seemed illogical. More, though, there are frequently questions which run deep in my mind on into the night, not just about politics, news, history, and religion, but more philosophical elements about the state of existence and reality, and then soft mourning about how complicated our world has become in this information age. “The Logical Song” addresses some of these matters.
I went with an interesting version performed by Ringo Starr & His All-Starr Band. That is the songwriter and the original vocalist, Roger Hodgson from Supertramp on keyboard.
Gonna enjoy the day best that I can and make it successful on my level, using my measuring methods. Hope you will, too. Stay positive, keep strong, and lean forward. I’m sure I’ll do the same, once I get some coffee in me, along with the pumpkin muffins with maple topping my wife made me. Goes super with fresh hot coffee. I’d offer you one but by the time it’s delivered to you, I don’t think it’d be nearly as good.
Hello, and welcome to Saturday, November 25, 2023.
The rythm of days and nights, and darkness, sunshine, and weather continues in Ashlandia, where the nights are cold and the furnaces are working hard. Last night saw a delivery of 28 F, not bad if your usual is 0, but not pleasing if your usual lows are around 33, which is our range. It’s 43 F now with the weather wizards telling us that a scorching 53 F is within reach today. It is blue sky, sunny, and dry.
Coming home from Friendsgiving on Thursday night, I called up some of Mom’s old sayings she used as we drove home. Fer instance, the one about the little piggies going to the market, etc, ending with one going wee, wee, wee all the way home. Then Mom always like announcing, “Home, sweet home,” when we turned onto our road and our house came into view.
So I did those things Thursday night, annoying my wife. This sequence invited The Neurons to plug “Last Child” by Aerosmith from 1976 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark off) intermittently since then, because the chorus is “Home, sweet, home.” So that’s today’s theme song, with the video being an accoustic version.
Hope you have a tremendous day. Stay strong, be positive, and lean forward. Coffee drinking has commenced here; let’s hear the music. Cheers
It’s actually Friday, 11/24/23, which I find fun to type. The Frienday thingy was pure accident. My computer, an HP Envy 17, has been in use for about six years, which is downright geriatric for computers. It’s given to being a little wonky at times, leaping up from where I’m typing to another place on the page, as well as skipping letters that I type. I know it’s the machine and not me because I don’t have these problems on other machines, like my wife’s Apple. Anyway, by unblemished serendipity, the wonkiness spelled out Frienday. As I celebrated Friendsgiving yesterday, keeping it as Frienday was a respectably cool coincidence.
Had a little cold weather last night, as 25 F was our overnight low. Took me by surprise because weather info suppliers were telling us, 31 would be the low. Anyway, that cold weather kept Papi in for most of the night. The one outing somewhere around 3:30 lasted less than ten minutes, and then he stayed in until 6 AM, when his soft pleas to be released re-commenced. Now the sunshine has pulled the mercury up to 44 F in Ashlandia, where all the trees are brown (except for the firs and pines) and the sky is blue. 52 F will be today’s high, if the weather whisperers are to be trusted.
As for me, blood pressure is 130 over 73, and my SpO2 is 99. So, things are going pretty well.
Today’s theme music was inspired by The Falcon and the Snowman, itself an adaptation of the book, The Falcon and the Snowman. The song is the 1985 song, “This Is Not America” by Pat Metheny and David Bowie, words which one of the people in the book said. The Neurons planted it in the morning mental music stream (Trademark dropped) this morning after catching up on the news, and the GOP’s shift away from democracy toward a dictatorship where Donald Trump is their dear leader. Such moves, along with the GOP’s gerrymandering and other actions undermining others’ rights, including the right to vote, has me shaking my head and declaring, “This is not America.” But, to judge by polls and GOP behavior, this is their vision of a fascist America, and they’re pretty happy with their cancel culture attacks, book banning, and tearing down the wall between the church and state.
Stay pos, be strong, and lean forward. Oh, and you may not have heard, but from what I’ve seen in my email, today is Black Friday, a good time to stay away from stores and shopping centers, because they’ll be busy, busy places.
Foggy this morning in Ashlandia, where the atmosphere is holiday bright. Was 48 F but that chill fog kept it, well, chilly. Now we’re nearing our day’s high temp, 52 F, but the sun has cleared off the fog and presented us with a clear blue sky, which looks sweet over mid-autumn’s colors.
Yes, it’s Thanksgiving, so my mind is rich with memories of Thanksgivings from childhood at my grandparent’s house to later Thanksgiving with Mom and family, to various military Thanksgiving scenarios. One which stands tall is Thanksgiving in the Philippines. I was married but on an unaccompanied tour, so my wife was back in the US, living with her family. I was part of a three-man command and control team, and my shift lead, Sal, invited me to his home in base housing for the holiday. Good friends, good day.
Since I’ve been out of the military and living with my wife on the west coast, we do Friendsgiving. Herb and Debra hosts a number of people from 12 to 20. Don’t know how many will be attending this year, our tenth year of going to their home in the country outside of Talent, Oregon. It’s always a good time, though, and I’m looking forward to being there.
Of course, no memories supplant the ones with Mom back in her home, with my sisters. Mom would start cooking the night before, worrying about the turkey being big enough, starting to roast it dark o’clock in the morning, basting it and fretting it would turn out dry. Never did. She made everything from scratch herself in those days, and you know we had pie and all the traditional fixin’s.
For music on this holiday, The Neurons inundated the morning mental music stream (Trademark wishful) with Lil Nas X and Jack Harlow with “INDUSTRY BABY” from 2020. It’s mostly the chorus going through the MMMS:
It’s an interesting video for several reasons, and I hope you enjoy it.
Hope your day is excellent, wherever you are, regardless of whether it’s a holiday for you or not. Be strong, stay positive, and lean forward to better times. Coffee is been consumed; other matters await. Here’s the video. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 