Sat-ur-day’s Theme Music

Got a cup of joe. Let’s start the day up.

First, the setting. Tepid sunshine behind a peeling gray sky. Autumn colors are flattered by the gray sky but some trees have gone bare, as though they’ve lost the plot. Tree branch tips and bushes feebly wave good morning to me. Dark spots tell on the remaining dampness and that sky isn’t one that invites me into a warm embrace.

I think, it’s Saturday. Or is that, I think it’s Saturday? The Thanksgiving milestone has passed. It’s November 26, right? 2022. December is coming, along with 2023.

It’s 44 F now, chilly not cold, with a high of 55 probable. Sunrise licked us with light at 7:14 this morning. Daylight’s tail end will flick by at 4:42 PM.

My morning mental music stream is enlivened by The Cars with “Moving in Stereo” from 1978. Came upon me during the clothes wearing operation, the part when I thought about what to wear and made choices and decided, that works, except not those shoes. With little pause for contemplation, The Neurons had me humming, “Life’s the same, I’m moving in stereo. Life’s the same except for my shoes.” Then the whole song rolled in. Not a bad way to roll.

Yeah, coffee is almost half gone. Not real happy with the clothes choices because Thanksgiving. Oof. Stay positive, test negative, and enjoy your November Saturday. Here’s the music. Later, Vader.


The Writing Moment

His fingers dance and skate across the keyboard. He talks with the characters, stares at far scenes until focus is found, laughs at a surprising turn. He turns his head, listening for what’s being said, rolling with the tension. Quarreling with the muses, he devotes fierce time trying to tie the story’s ends together and grasp what’s to happen next, hunting for the button that will make it all make sense.

The he stops, stretching his arms, deeply inhaling, blinking his eyes, working out back kinks, shifting so blood can find a way through his ass, and gawks at the coffee shop around him. He swears it was full before.

Now he writes alone.

The Writing Moment

The writing day drains me again. I feel physically like I’ve run a half marathon — and I’ve done that and remember how I felt afterward. I also feel like I finished an important project at work, one that consumed my time and thinking. I feel, too, like I’ve been at a funeral, by a grave in the rain, and now I’m back home, changing clothes, reflecting on life and death, change and emotions, and I feel like I’ve been waiting for someone who never showed.

A good writing day, I judge it, even though so much remains to be written.

Saturday’s Theme Music

Got up early, fed the cats. Went back to bed because, at 7:15 AM, the light cast a feel that it was closer to five AM. Rising an hour later on this Saturday morning, I found the light much improved. Mixed with clouds, sunshine, rains, and mist, the light seemed pretty much perfect.

It couldn’t last. Clouds swarmed the local atmosphere. Rain shadowed in. But I still thought, it might be nice outside, because it was warm and cozy within, right? Papi, my ginger-furred wonder, told me otherwise. He was beating on the front door. I rushed over and opened it. Yelling, “Meow,” as he dashed in, he let me know how incensed he was. It was cold and wet outside and now he was cold and wet, which is not a preferred state. “A little fresh kibble might ameliorate my mood.” I did as I was told. Always do.

It’s 50 degrees F, November 5, 2022, and raining. We turn back the digits and clock hand tonight, if you do that sort of thing. Well, tomorrow morning, actually. as the deed is done in that nether region that’s both late night and early morning, depending on where you stand on the spectrum about when night and morning literally begin. Today’s high will be 51 F. See, that’s the day’s nature, a balance by degrees here.

“Rock Me Baby” is in my morning mental music stream. This song has been around my entire life. B.B. King’s cover was a hit in 1964 and became his signature song. A blues standard, many artists have covered and recorded it. B.B.’ version was inducted into the rock and roll hall of fame. His arrangement is what’s in my head today, but the cover is by Etta James and Stephen Stills, with the Roots. I’m a fan of all three of those entities, so when I found a recording from 1983 of them doing this song, I sat and listened. The Neurons have nothing to do with my theme music choice for a change.

Well, hope you enjoy it. Give everyone my regards. Stay positive and test negative. The coffee man (that’s me) has delivered. Time to imbibe. Cheers

Wednesday’s Wandering Thought

He wondered which of them had fallen out of love first. He believed that he did. He felt like she was always verbally abusing him and emotionally bullying him. He had a list of trespasses against her. She probably had one for him. The best thing to do is not keep a list, but there it was. They were so much alike, and they both always made lists.

The Writing Moment

Two writing moments which he really enjoyed happened today. One was a stimulating story idea. It landed without any warning in his head, blowing his mind in multiple ways. Excited, he wrote it up. Something to do later. Ideas for novels and stories were always landing but this one felt really special. He didn’t want to forget it.

The second moment came as he wrote in the novel in progress. His character’s situation and the character’s thinking resulted in a sentence which made him laugh out loud at the coffee shop table.

Yes, it was a fun writing day. Cold and wet, with rain turning to snow and back again, but terrific fun. Coffee done, it was time to shut down the writing like crazy for the day.

Sunday’s Wandering Thought

He was at a coffee shop yesterday. Three women came in and rearranged a section of furniture. They didn’t put it back when they left. He wondered, though, is it their job to put it back?

Of course not. But it seemed like it’d be courteous to the staff and other patrons. It’s what he would do. But is there a ‘right and wrong’ in this?

Not really. It’s furniture in a coffee shop. It’s there for people’s use and comfort, right? Sure. It just annoys him when people don’t put things back, whether it’s shopping carts or tables and chairs in a coffee shop.

It’s just one of his foibles.


A patch to wake up

A patch to fall sleep

A patch to help you pay attention

A patch to take a drink.

A patch to kill your dreams

A patch to keep you sane

A patch to make you eat

A patch to dull your brain.

A patch to calm your nerves

A patch to stay alive

A patch to keep you breathing

And then a patch to die.

Wednesday’s Wandering Thought

The organized chaos of commercial air travel reminded him of several things. Number one, always read the fine print. When he bought his ticket, he also bought a seat for a few extra dollars, reasoning, he’d never seen anyone standing up for an entire flight. What he didn’t see anywhere in the seat description was that the seat he selected didn’t recline. He found that out the day before, when he reviewed his flight details.

Naturally, he entertained getting a seat for the five plus hour flight. Several were available for an extra $130. Being one that often spites himself to prove a point, he refused to buy one.

He was sure, though, someday the airlines would figure out a way to start charging for air.

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