Friday’s Theme Music

A cool mountain wind came by late yesterday, serving to dispatch summer’s edgy warmth.

Such a welcome combo. I was relaxing after another wall-painting session. I wanted to take a walk but was ambivalent, mostly because it was about eight PM.

(‘Take a walk’ is an interesting expression. When I hear/write/read that line, I often imagine people with numbers waiting in line. You know, take a number, take your place, take a seat, take a walk. Just word associations.)

Decided not to go walking, but as I was thinking and enjoying the mild, cool wind and watching the change from day (distant apricot sunset in the west, indigo sky rising at the zenith, the moon, clear and shiny, riding the southern sky), a Scorpions song came to mind.

“Wind of Change” (1991) is such a mellow song, it definitely answered the moment.

The wind of change
Blows straight into the face of time
Like a stormwind that will ring the freedom bell
For peace of mind

h/t to AZLyrics.com

Listen.

 

Call It Saturday

Today feels like Saturday.

So did yesterday, and the day before. I suspect that tomorrow will also feel like Saturday.

Lot of reasons exist for my feelings about the days of the week. One, I’m a writer. I write every day. I retired from outside employment a few years ago. My days of the week stopped being labeled work days and non-work days.

Two, I stream, and watch little broadcast television. I’ve been streaming for ten years, and cut the cable nine years ago. That means that I’m not looking at any guides or schedules to see what’s on television, which was always guided by the day of the week. For example, I don’t think, “If this is Thursday, then a new episode of X will be on.” I wait until all episodes are out and then I start streaming them on my schedule when they’re available. When they’re out depends on a date, not a day of the week.

Three, COVID-19, of course. The pandemic and the actions being taken to flatten the curve has dramatically affected social activities. Hence, we’re no longer going out dancing at the lake on Saturday night or heading for beer on Wednesday night, erasing another reason for tracking what day it is.

Four, it feels like Saturday because of my conditioning. Back when I did work, Saturdays were days for doing errands and chores. It was also a day for sleeping in a bit. No need to leap out of bed, do some quick exercises, eat, shower, dress, jump into the car and hurry to work on Saturday. I could catch another twenty minutes.

Everyday in COVID-19 land is like that now. There are chores and writing, but no errands. I can sleep in, if the cats agree.

The cats have never worried about the day of the week. To them, it’s always Caturday.

I get what they mean, now.

 

Saturday’s Theme Music

The civic powers have decided there’s gonna a be a youth baseball tournament in our area this weekend. Thirty-two teams are coming from all over California and Oregon.

Gosh, I think this is a great idea. Snark, in case it’s not recognized.

Yes, social distancing rules will be in play. Only a hunnert people on a field at a time. But let’s see, thirty-two teams, say fifteen people to a team including coaches, support, and chaperones, and suddenly an four to five hundred people are running around town. Going to social distance? Hmmm…

Then there are fans…

Hmmm…

So, we went shopping today. Had to be done, Costco and Trader Joe’s, our go-tos. TJ was a blessed sanctuary. Everyone masked, not many people, all observing the SD guidelines and playing nice.

We zipped out to Costco. It wasn’t opening for thirty more minutes. “Should we get in line?” the spouse asked.

What line? I saw people milling. Half weren’t masked. Three fourths weren’t distancing.

“No. We’re not getting in that congregation. Let’s go to Target and get the pet supplies instead.”

Off we went.

Target…jebbus. Most weren’t masked. Social distancing? I don’t think they’d heard the term. My mind recoiled with bitterness. We’re probably looking at walking headlines, I thought. Oh, they went to a ballgame. WEnt shopping. One had symptoms but (fill it in yourself). Gosh, thirty people then tested pos. Gosh, they’re all in isolation, and gosh, some of them are really sick and in the hospital.

Yeah, gosh.

Into all of this came the 1985 Hooters song, “All You Zombies”. I don’t know if these people are unthinking, uncaring, ignorant zombies, a piece of all that, or just rebelling cause ‘Merica, Trump. Don’t know. But they strike me as zombies.

That makes “All You Zombies” today’s theme choice. Zombies come in all shapes, ya know?

Wednesday’s Theme Music

After waking up and getting up, songs filter in and out of my cogent stream. With a little surprise, I put together their identities:

“One” by U2 and “One” by Three Dog Night, “I’m the Only One” by Melissa Ethridge, “One” by Metallica, “Still the One” by Orleans, “I’m One” by the Who. Another one song, “She’s the One” by Bruce Springsteen finishes the list.

WTH?

It becomes a quietly amusing background thinking game as I do other things, wondering why songs focused on one are in my mental stream. Not necessarily new; my mind has done this to me with other topics. But I can usually pinpoint the root. It’s different today, as I don’t know what’s kicking one into the stream.

I also wonder, why those songs, and not other songs with one in them. Or maybe other songs with one played in my head but I forgot.

Oh, well. After all that, I settled on a Wallflowers favorite from 1997, “One Headlight”. That’s today’s theme music.

So long ago I don’t remember when
that’s when they said I lost my only friend
they said she died easy of a broke heart disease
as I listened through the cemetary trees

I seen the sun comin’ up at the funeral at dawn
with the long broken arm of human law
now it always seemed such a waste
she always had a pretty face
I wondered why she hung around this place

hey-ey-ey
come on try a little
nothing is forever
there’s got to be something better than in the middle
me and cinderella
put it all together
we could drive it home
with one headlight

h/t to Metrolyrics.com

Sunday’s Theme Music

Today’s stream music arrived in my head because, what if?

The what if game is always a small diversion. The rules are to ask yourself to imagine how your existence would be different if you made a different decision, followed another path, or handled something in some other way than what you did.

What if you had gone to college?

What if you’d taken that job?

What if you’d married that person?

From that, in trickled Rob Thomas singing Matchbox Twenty’s song, “Real World”. It asks those questions about being in charge, or a superhero, among other things.

And it all has a direct link to writing yesterday. A big portion of my writing process is playing what if? It’s intriguing as part of the process because I’ll think that through, applying different ideas, possibilities, and outcomes, but when I sit down and write, it’s something completely different.

And that’s why writing entertains me.

Here’s the music.

Diversity Fail

Saw an article today: “Friends Creator Marta Kauffman Tearfully Says She ‘Didn’t Do Enough’ for Diversity”.

No kidding, right? Black characters were few on that show. Past that, though, I thought, now there’s a timely sitcom: “Diversity Fail”. It would be about all the ways that diversity fails, and would feature a diverse cast, not just of races, but sexual identities and genders, sexual preferences and fluidity, and religion. It’d be a broad, rambling show focused on one person struggling to grasp it all without offending everyone. I’m thinking it’s more like “Fleabag” than “Friends”, though.

Got to stop thinking about it. It’s a distraction to the novel in progress. I’m already distracting myself with side stories trying to understand my characters. Gotta get more coffee. Then it’s back to writing like crazy, at least for a while longer.

Are You Outraged?

Someone else wrote a blog titled, “Are You Outraged?” And I thought, am I outraged?

Let’s see. I was born in 1956, eleven years after WW II, but while the conflict in Korea was happening, and as the U.S. was getting drawn into Vietnam.

The Cold War was going strong. The U.S. and U.S.S.R. were ready to launch nukes and drop nukes at the slightest provocation.

1960 began strong, with John F. Kennedy getting elected. He promised to put a man on the moon. Meanwhile, protests and riots began. The 1960s were full of blood and smoke. Kennedy was assassinated; so was his brother. And Martin Luther King, Jr. Many blacks were lynched and murdered. Battles were fought over segregation, “Separate but equal”, and desegregation.

As races fought for equality, so did women, but the Equal Rights Amendment stalled.

The arms race sucked up resources and attention. Korean and Vietnam were ‘ended’ as conflicts, but more conflicts sprang up. War has not ceased in my lifetime, despite the fall of the U.S.S.R. Instead, it’s intensified.

As has the battle for equal rights and the ideal that skin color, sexual orientation, religious preferences, and genders should not matter, that we, as a nation, are only as strong as the weakest among us, so we must protect them.

The battle for the environment has intensified, too, and with it, the understanding that this is one world, and once again, in order to survive, we must survive together, and protect our planet, or we may all suffer, and many of us will perish, bringing our civilization to our knees.

These seem like self-evident truths, but instead, another war has arisen, this one about what constitutes truths, facts, science, and evidence. The way that numbers and words are spun to create division and distraction spins my head.

Am I outraged? Fucking yes. After a lifetime of this, I thought we’d be further advanced. But as I watch the police brutality and government response to the murders and protests, echoes of history reverberate. I’m reminded of the tanks in Hungary in 1956 as the Soviet Union crushed an uprising.

I’m reminded of the Watts riots.

I’m reminded of Tienanmen Square in 1989.

I’m reminded of the Berlin Wall.

I’m reminded of Selma and Montgomery, Alabama, and Detroit, Michigan.

I’m reminded of the American Civil War.

I’m reminded of the rise of Solidarity in Poland.

I’m reminded of Ferguson.

I’m reminded of the Democratic National Convention in 1968.

I’m reminded of Kent State in 1970.

I’m reminded of countless sit-ins and marches against war and for peace, against injustice and for equality.

I’m reminded of so many events that I’ve seen and read of in the narrow focus of my short life, and I’m reminded of so many who live in fear and suffer at the hands of those who are supposed to serve and protect.

Am I outraged?

I watch the news, play the viral videos, and read the articles this week and wonder why so many fight against others’ equality. I wonder how so many can be so cruel to fellow humans. The outright cruelty and disregard demonstrated as police officers spray, beat, shoot, and mistreat their fellow citizens, their fellow humans, horrifies me.

Am I outraged?

I am sickened. I am saddened. I am furious.

Yes, I am outraged.

Friday’s Theme Music

Yeah, Trump retweeted the sentiment, “The only good Democrat is a dead Democrat.”

No matter what political party you are, learning that the nation’s President promotes such unreasoning violence and ideals contrary to the nation’s principles is, well, sickening. Is this how the country is united? Is that really the best course to promote as riots break out in cities over another black man’s death as he begged the police officer holding him down, as our nation passes one hundred six thousand deaths from the coronavirus, a time when we should be pulling together, where everyone insists, “We’re in this together?”

While I often hear screams from those on the right about how Democrats are not civil and should respect the President and treat him with courtesy, how can I — why would I? — when he’s encouraging murder against the political opposition?

So, the song by Badfinger, “No Matter What” (1970), arrives in my brain. No matter what is fused directly to getting Trump out of office; no matter what Biden does, I will vote for him, a position that I hate to take. Biden isn’t my first, second, or third choice. I grimace thinking about it, having my thought processes and principles reduced to that single point: vote Trump out. Sickening and infuriating. Biden, if elected, will probably do a decent job, but I really want to advance the nation and world past the status quo where we muddle from crises to crises, issue to issue, putting bandages on problems while rot spreads.

No matter what also comes up as I write my way through this pandemic. No matter what, I’ll write. No matter what, I’ll pursue my dreams.

No matter what, I’ll go on.

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: