Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: sour apple

We’re under one big cloud shield in Ashlandia, presenting us a gray, dim morning. It’s Thursday, June 20, 2024, and the summer equinox. Doesn’t seem it. Seems like spring rushed in for on more jolly. 58 F, though, we’re expecting the temperature measuring devices to show us temperatures in the high 80s.

For now, I’m hitting myself in the head regarding a series of ‘why didn’t I?’

Background: I have a toilet which won’t stop running. I’ve fixed these before so I wasn’t overly worried. That attitude didn’t help. I didn’t provide it the attention I should have. I fiddled with the flush valve and the water ceased flowing. Hurrah, right?

No, fool. I’m the fool. Not you.

I went out and bought replacement parts and I thought all was going well. So I took my time. Decided to address it late in the afternoon. Then I used the toilet and flushed. It started running; wouldn’t stop. Okay, time to fix it.

First move, turn off the water to the toilet.

It wouldn’t go off. I screwed around with that a bit. Then a bit more. And more. In fact, I wasted almost an hour on that. Okay, turn off the water to the house.

Where the hell is my shut off valve?

I walked around the house and looked for it but I’ve lived here a while and have never seen it. I researched on line for all the possibilities and searched them out. Not there, not there, not there, not there, not there. Finally found it where all said it should be, by the water meter, by the street, but it was buried. By now it’s after 8 PM. I tried turning off the water.

Couldn’t do it with my crescent wrench. Not the space to turn a crescent wrench in there, nor any other wrench. You need a special tool.

Of course! This is the age of special tools. (Cue singing, “This is the dawning of the age of special tools, age of special tools,” sung to the tune of The Fifth Dimension’s song, “Age of Aquarius”. My apologies for that. Also add a little snark about Trump and MAGAs being tools. Yeah, shame on me.)

Now this is where I really screwed up.

First, I didn’t think about rushing out and buying the special tool. My wife talked me into waiting until today to take care of it. But I can hear that water running. It’s not just a trickle, either. I can hear that waste.

Why didn’t I go to Home Depot, just a few miles up the road, and buy the tool? Why didn’t I call the city and say, hey, come turn off my water? I’d trapped myself with tunnel vision.

Obsessed with the running water sound, I woke up early and realized those things. Called the city. Asked them to send out someone to shut off the water. ‘Course, that’s not a real emergency, so it’ll take a while. Then I’ll go buy the tool so I have it on hand. And I’ll fix the shut off valve on the toilet and the stupid toilet. But I’m really disappointed in my poor judgement and weak thinking. Must not have had enough coffee.

Turning to the positive side of that, it distracted me from Mom’s situation, Dad’s hospitalization, my ankle, politics, and troubling news from around the world. Always a silver lining, isn’t there?

Finally, though, I harped on myself for not having the special tool on hand and for not knowing where my valve was. What if there had been a burst pipe in the house? I pride myself on being proactive and I was anything but all the way around with this.

People of course, will ask, why didn’t you just call a plumber? And here again, I’m up against myself: I like being self-sufficient. I like DIY. I dislike being ignorant about things and dependent on others. So, yeah, that’s all on the idiot I call me.

The incident of the toilet that won’t stop running inspired The Neurons, of course. They’ve programmed “Urgent” by Foreigner from 1981 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark: stuck).

Update: As I was typing, a worker arrived and shut off the water. I rushed out and spoke with him and learned about the dangers of turning if off myself — like breaking something, you know? A very nice guy, he’d heard the duty call phone ring while he was in a safety meeting and went out to hear the messages. Hearing mine, he left the meeting and came out and addressed my issue. Telling me to call back whenever I went it turned back on, he rushed back to the meeting. So easy; why didn’t I call them last night?

BTW, we did prepare for not having water by filling a water jug, a bucket, the coffee maker, the tea kettle, and the water pitcher in the frig. I hope that this isn’t shut off for long, but you know me, I’m an optimist.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee is in me. I have a few things I need to go take care of now, so I’m gonna go. Here’s the music.

Happy first day of summer. Cheers

Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

When I returned from the coffee shop writing session yesterday, my wife related a story she’d read.

A man began a new habit of going to the coffee shop every Saturday morning. He enjoyed the atmosphere and would surf the net on his phone and text friends while nursing a coffee drink and nibbling a pastry. After a few weeks of this, he discovered he and the owner had once been friends. Then, life happened. This disconnected but now reconnected in a casual way.

One day the guy received an email from the coffee shop owner. The owner said that the barista complained that the man was ogling her on Saturday mornings and that the owner was going to have to bar him. The man refuted what was happening. Through a back and forth series, he convinced the owner that wasn’t the case.

Meanwhile, the barista was moved off Saturday morning to another schedule. Therefore, the owner said, the man would be welcomed back.

Fuck you, the man wrote back.

I wholly understood and agreed. That place would never be the same for him, and other coffee shops would probably be tainted for him as well.

Sad that it came to that. Made me wonder, as I sit in the coffee shop and people watch, what did that barista think she saw?

Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

My wife is lamenting that Ashlandia has become a dancing desert. There are no venues that we know to go dancing. When we want to dance, we need to head out of town to wineries, breweries, or up into a resort called Lake of the Woods. That last is where we usually wind up.

Which pushed me to think, do young people still dance? I went onto TikTok for the answer. Instead, they have videos the young have made of their parents showing their dance moves — or videos made by boomers showing their moves.

Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: sprummery

Today’s lifestyle is delivered to you by Monday. “Monday: always the best way to start a week.”sp

It’s 68 F and June 10, 2024. Continuing the sprummerish lead up to summer, we expect a high of 87 F. The sky presents no signs that 87 F won’t happen. Clouds are boycotting the area morning. The bluest skies are clear above the southern forested pinnacles.

I was reading the Frank Luntz piece about undecided voters and how Trump’s 34 guilty verdicts affected their voting decision. I was struck by the fact that several blamed it on President Biden. Makes no kind of fucking sense in a sane world. But to further the insanity, they suggested, what if Trump appeals his decision and wins that appeal?

Yes, quite a ‘what if’ idea, isn’t it? But it needled me to think, well, Jesus, if President Biden is so powerful that he can influence a state’s legal system and find twelve citizens that he somehow forces to call a guilty verdict, why in the world would this powerful individual not also have the appeals system sewn up? Because anyone with a tenth of an active working brain knew that Trump would appeal if found guilty. So that avenue would need to be covered, too.

Of course, several of these geniuses also speculated that it’s not much of a crime and that ‘they had been out for Trump’ since 2016.

Idiots.

Glad to get that rant out of my blood.

Also, to those who thought that they were ‘out to get Trump’, have you not followed Trump’s legal issues for the past forty years or more? Really, can you wake up and think a little?

Of course, one individual also kept saying, “It’s about the economy for me,” and was worried about inflation. He should really read some history about how we arrived at our current price levels.

Relating to nothing, BTW, did you see the news that Target, Aldi, Walgreens, and other retaillers were announcing price cuts because heir high prices were driving away customers? Really makes me fucking wonder how and why they’re suddenly able to announce that, hmmm?

Today’s music comes by way of a dream. I was awake at 5:27 this morning. Don’t know what awoke me. After hearing what sounded like four small-caliber gunshots, I checked on my floofs. Tucker was in but Papi was out on the back patio. He seemed to be watching something invisible to me but rushed in as soon as the door was ajar. As far as the shots go, morning silence resumed as if it’d never happened.

So back to bed I went, and to a dream. As I remembered it, I recalled that there was a comment made by my sister-in-law. We were at her wedding. She was marrying a guy I’d never met. Weirdly she was really tall, towering over me by about thirty inches. Anxious to get out of there, she said, “I want this done. I’m worried about the weather. Remind me to tell Becky (her daughter), I need to get through everything before the weekend.”

Okay. I brooded on that a bit, but The Neurons launched 10,000 Maniacs with “Like the Weather” from 1988 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark under the weather). I found this lovely live version. Such a mellow and reflective song.

Got my coffee soothing The Neurons. Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024 for a saner, cleaner world. Here’s the music. Cheers

Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

The thing about growing old is how you accumulate memories of so many of your firsts. I don’t know how much of it is true, but my mind informs me about many remembered firsts. Kisses and sex, purchases and experiences.

A big first for me was watching John F. Kennedy’s funeral on television. Another was watching the first moon landing.

But I remember buying my first car, and my family’s first color television. A big Magnavox console with a 25″ screen, my stepfather procured it after it fell off a truck.

Other big first include my first broken bone, meeting my wife and the first time we told each other, I love you. Another memorable first was the first funeral, for a school mate. Firsts fall in line: aircraft flights, purchasing a microwave, VHS player, CD player, home computer.

Now my latest firsts are witnessing a former POTUS declared guilty by a jury of his peers for crimes he committed, and NAZI flags being flown by his supporters as we commemorate the Normandy Landings done to fight NAZIs eighty years ago.

The Rot

I read a NY Times article about Trump diehards and reality today. The story firmly demonstrates how much Trump has corrupted truth and reality.

Cindy Elgan is an Election Clerk in a sparsely populated Nevada county. Although she is a Trump supporter, other Trump supporters in the county where she works have decided that she may work for the deep state. This is despite her honest and unbending efforts to faithfully uphold Nevada’s laws to ensure fair and accurate elections. She’s been doing this for twenty years.

But because other MAGA supporters keep hearing lies about the ‘stolen 2020 election’ from Trump and other Trumpublicans, they don’t trust Cindy Elgan, even though she is a Trump supporter. So they initiated a petition to recall her.

As the article by Eli Saslow noes, “What in the world happened to these people?” Elgan asked. “What kind of person could actually believe this nonsense?”

Just as so many tens of millions across our nation and around the world are asking.

Yet, Elgan herself supports Trump.

I recommend reading the article to gain insights about what a rot Donald J. Trump is on the United States. Of course, Trump’s supporters won’t read it and will remain in the dark because he declared the NY Times only publishes fake news.

That is the rot that is Trump.

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: sprummery

“You make me feel so young,” I told the day. “You make me feel like summer has come.”

Yes, it’s sprummer in Ashlandia, where the crows’ conversations dominate the morning’s sounds. Today is Jun 6, 2024. School is out. Light clouds sketch patterns over the blue sky but mild haze mars our western view. Dust, pollen, fire somewhere? Don’t know yet.

Our temperature currently resides at 70 F. That’s a temporary stop, up sixteen from when the cats forced me out of bed. 88 F is our forecasted high.

In surprise news, Mom is receiving her hospital bed back in Penn Hills. Last that I knew, back on Monday, more paperwork of an unexplained nature was needed. Now, bang, the bed is being delivered today.

The news set up falling dominos of actions and reactions. Mom immediately called daughters to come over with their hubbies to dissemble and move the old bed. Sisters et al responded, “We can’t now. We’re at work, we’re at appointments, we have commitments,” which dismayed Mom. She needed and expected everyone to immediately come to her aid, and adulting prevented that from happening. Stress, irritation, frustration, anger, and resentment all gyrated upward. Mom felt abandoned, and her daughters felt unreasonably burdened. It’s worse because it’s all part of a recurring cycle of ‘come help me now’ and ‘I can’t, I’m busy’.

Viewed from a distance, out of that, The Neurons initiated “King of Pain” by The Police in my morning mental music stream (Trademark changing). The 1983 song elaborates on the many small, overlooked matters that causes an observer to feel pain for the others and their situation, feeling this in his soul. That pain translates to rain, and then they express hope that another would end the rain, which would end their pain. I’m certain that it’s this circle and unfulfilled hope which attracted Les Neurons to this song today.

Be strong, stay positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Also, enjoy, however you can, and try to make something of it. Coffee is doing its thing; time to go do mine. Here’s the music. Cheers

Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

I am so upset with myself.

Have you seen the latest fashion trend among America’s youth? Knee-high crew socks with sandals.

Just like I used to wear in the 1970s, in my boomer youth. I knew I should’ve kept them. Shouldn’t have taken them to a charity for recycling and repurposing. But no, I went with the low cut ‘no-sock’ look and tossed my geeky crew socks.

I am worried about this new fashion trend. What will be next? Disco, and big shoulder pads on women again? They’re already doing big pants legs like we did. We called them elephant legs.

As my generation would put it, ye gads.

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