Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: springy

Season’s greetings, everyone, no matter what season envelopes your existence this date. This day and date are Monday, Feb. 12, 2024. Spring has reasserted its stance here in Ashlandia, where the theater is above average. 51 F under a cloudy sky where the sun keeps breaking through, our high is supposed to be just one more degree over the current temp.

It’s another late start for posting for me. I assisted my wife’s Food & Friends deliveries. I’m her driver. That started at 10 AM. We were finished circulating around Ashlandia’s southern streets and home by II:30, having taken a hot meal to fourteen homes, part of a small army out there doing this almost every day.

In good news — for us in Ashlandia — our snowpack significantly scored with the last storms. It now stands at over 70% of normal, thanks to the atmospheric rivers that dumped on California and much of the PNW. Sad for CA and their losses. Brutal to read of the flooding, mudslides, destruction, and death, or see videos of it. Meanwhile, the northeastern US has another snowstorm descending on them. Fingers crossed that it doesn’t do too much to the area and that no one dies.

In stories about other worries and losses, did you see Donald Trump Jr’s post? I had to remind myself that this came from a supposedly educated and intelligent adult human. The crass humor demonstrates an adolescent’s maturity and a first-grader’s intelligence. That this comes from the son of the mighty GOP’s leader, that it involves a family member and not a candidate, that it involves a former first lady, that it’s racist and misogynistic, and that GOP leadership said nothing about it, speaks volumes about that side of the political spectrum. The Principles of the GOP: RIP.

By the way, the KC Chiefs beat the SF 49ers in the Super Bowl yesterday. Kelce Travis and Taylor Swift said nothing about voting for President Joe Biden, despite right wing predictions of that happening. Surprise.

Maybe I’ve mentioned this before, and maybe not, but my spouse enjoys reading Reddit threads about the modern dating scene in America. She enjoys, too, reading the stories tell while asking for advice about what to do in their marriages or relationships. In a recent one, a 27-year-old man was pursuing his dream of becoming a professional video game player. I knew such a position exists, but I didn’t know the rest, like they have teams, and coaches. It’s evolved much more since I’ve last paid attention to it. The girlfriend writing in was talking about how he was not supporting them while he accused her of the same.

She doesn’t believe he’s good enough to be a pro, and the evidence does stand against him. People commented, pointing out that he is too old at this point because the oldest pro gamer now is 25. However, I dislike telling people to give up their dreams. Hell, I’m pursuing my own of becoming a novelist, despite my age (I’m almost 28). Trying to look at it from both sides, I feel for him and his partner. Showing signs of my own fiction writing addiction, I immediately saw how it could be part of a novel.

I don’t know why, but today had The Neurons post “Missing You” by John Waite into the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). I enjoy the 1984 soft rock tune, having frequently heard it on the radio while buzzing around Okinawa during my final year of living there. Why that song today? Don’t know. I’d been doing cleaning after feeding cats previous to showering and dressing when I realized it had taken over the MMMS. No clues were found for why. Anyway, that’s today’s theme music.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote when you can. Now fortified with coffee, I’ll do the same. Here’s the music. Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: super

Ahoy everyone, it’s Sunday, February 11, 2024. Here are today’s top headlines.

Ah, never mind that for now. We’ll do that later. In weather, sprinter had dashed back into the Ashlandia, with strong spring highlights overtaken weak winter elements. 52 F, with classic strong sunshine lording over bright blue, it’s a good day to do many things. Today’s high will be 58 F.

House painting continues with no issues at all. My wife and I did a walk around to see the progress yesterday, and we’re pleased. The housefloofs have adjusted the situation. Tucker went for an outside visit this morning, conducting a recce of the painters’ supplies. Not at all concerned by appearances, he then returned to the door and was granted re-entry. Papi, having seen it all now, is little bothered, dashing in and out several times with barely more than a head bob toward the painting gear, confirming, yes, that stuff is all still there. Hustling in before they returned, both cats are now retired in the house in sunny places filtered by the flimsy plastic over the windows.

As it’s super Sunday in the U.S., the day when the two NFL conference champions play a final game to decide who is number 1 and end the season, I thought I’d blink back at 1993. T’was the year the marching bands and drill teams were gently shuffled aside, and the Super Bowl pop era. Game number XXVII was being held at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, California. The Buffalo Bills, representing the AFC, faced the NFC Champions Dallas Cowboys. The Bills were there for the third straight year. They came again the next year to make it four in a row, setting a record as the first time to appear in four straight Super Bowls. Sadly, they remain winless in that realm.

For that first pop Super Bowl, they hired a pop icon, Michael Jackson. One of his songs performed that day was “Billie Jean”. Released ten years before, featuring a deep bass line and telling a story, it was and is a song the people enjoy dancing to. It’s not ranked the best Super Bowl halftime show, but it’s the first commercialized pop version. The league and network had never done anything like that. They’ve since learned from mistakes and improved the show until we’re at this point. Frankly, the shows have become fat to me and can use some simplification, but that’s me.

If you’re watching the game — or the commercials, or halftime show, as so many people do, I hope you’re entertained. I’ll watch the game and cheer the KC Chiefs in honor of my neighbor, Walt. After being a lifelong KC fan, waiting for another SB victory, he died the year before Andy Reid and Patrick Mahommes delivered the first SB win since Hank Stram and Len Dawson took them to the big show in 1969 and defeated the Minnesota Vikings and Al Kapp.

Stay strong, remain positive, lean forward, and register and vote, if you’re in a democracy and afforded the opportunity. Here’s the music; coffee has been guzzled. But first, a 1993 SB commercial break from Lee Jeans, featuring a young Alan Cumming.

Cheers

Lights Out

Light bulbs are so like cereal, ice cream, and bread. The range of choices sprawl along store aisles like invading armies staging to attack.

It’s been a period of lights out in our house. Light bulbs retired in the last several weeks all over our house. Kitchen, stove top, office, bedroom, garage, living room accent light have all been afflicted. As each burned out, I checked pulled it and checked it out for the replacement. Several of them hadn’t been replaced since being installed in 2006, when we moved in, so we got our mileage out of them. Easiest, in theory, was the office light, which had been first to go dark.

There are actually three bulbs up there. I pulled off the shade to take a look. One was burned out; one socket was empty. The third was almost an antique: 60 watts, GE, filament, frosted white. Poor thing.

“Can we get something brighter?” my wife asked. She’s had a lifetime of vision issues and compensates by turning on every light possible. When she uses the kitchen, she generally turns on four sets of lights. Yes, four. There are ceiling spotlights, under-cabinet work lights, and breakfast bar lights. The dining room is adjacent, just on the other side of the breakfast counter, so she always turns on it on to, adding the lumens from its five bulbs. There are basically 23 bulbs of different wattage going on when she’s in the kitchen.

The only one no in use alone is the sink task light. The others’ switches are clustered together, four switches under one faceplate by the kitchen’s entrance. She just spreads her fingers, flattens her palm, and hits them all, usually simultaneously click. But the sink task light is by the sink, and she forgets it. Funny, because it’s my favorite, and the one I mostly use, usually the only one I use. Just for the record, there’s also the range top lights, which are part of the hood/fan assembly attached to the microwave’s underside. She doesn’t use them. I use them when I’m cooking or to leave a light on when we’re out of the house and returning after dark.

The office required a sixty-watt bulb. Easy peasy, right? But how many Ks should it have, and lumens? I want an energy saver but of what nature? These were things that I didn’t know that I needed to know. I ended up with 60-watt comparable LED daylight white 5000K bulbs boasting of 750 lumens. Three were installed and the shade installed. Then, click.

OMG. “Wow.” My wife sounded giddy. “I can see.”

I was overwhelmed. She often accuses me of being in the dark, scolding, “How can you see in here?” Under the force of these three bulbs, I felt that sunglasses would be suitable. And they only use eight watts of power, don’t emit much heat, and should last over ten years.

“So you like them?” I facetiously asked. “Do you want them in the bedroom?”

“Yes!”

With that done to her satisfaction, I turned to the kitchen. The ceiling spotlights, all old energy-savers, issued a duller light. “Want me to install daylight bulbs in here?”

She hesitated. “They’re awfully bright.”

Screw it; I did it. Well, there are four of them. I replaced three.

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed. “I can see. Wow. This place is really dirty.”

No, it wasn’t, but she’s fond of using hyperbole like that.

“Too bright?” I asked. They were 75-watt comparable LED spotlights rated at 650 lumens and 4800K clear daylight. Yes, indeed, they were bright. They also cost about eight dollars each but would endure for almost twelve years. Their specs also claimed their use would only cost about $.016 per year. The last coaxed doubt out of me. Surely that couldn’t be right.

After those bulbs, the rest were anticlimactic. 40 watts for the range. 35-watts LED with a G8 pin base for the under-cabinet work lights. A 50-watts soft white pin mini spotlight (L9) for the living room accent installation over the fireplace, and one of the 60-watt LED bulbs (I’d purchased a ten-pack of the FEIT offering) in the garage. In all, I installed fifteen bulbs, learned a smattering more about the world of lighting, and spent about $57 in light bulbs. But I should spend less on replacements and use less energy.

We’ll see. It was so, so different from the old days of finding a small hardware section and buying almost exclusively on their wattage. Like cereal, which now has what seems like a million choices. Or bread and all of its options over wheat, grain, multi-grain, gluten-free — well, you probably know the dealio. We’ve come a long way from sliced white bread.

Or ice cream. You better know what you want when you decide to buy ice cream in a grocery store. Low fat, dairy free, gluten free, etc. That’s just a start. Then there are sizes and flavors. Prices. Or are you going to go with other options, like frozen yogurt? Options and choices can be overwhelming.

Just like when you buy light bulbs.

The Writing Moment

Starting the daily revision work with page 425, I did the math. Just 101 pages remained. Easily done. Can be completed by week’s end.

Then reality spit in my face. Stepping into page 425, I choked on misery. Such clumsiness in the prose. And chaos. Continuity had broken like a quake shook it apart.

Going retrograde, I slipped back two chapters, to where this scene left off. Might be a setback to hopes for a finish this week, but time isn’t nearly as important to me as getting it right.

Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: flexible

Good day, humans. Rise and shine. Time to try again.

Monday has opened its eyes. Today is Feb. 5, 2024. Cloudy is today’s sky description. Wind has calmed; rain is on a break. 47 F now, 51is the suspected high, after an overnight low of 38 F.

Haven’t read much news this morning, as I’m into a book by Colson Whithead, Crook Manifesto. I admire his language use, the phrases he turns, the characters he projects. Suberb pacing and plotting as well. He’s won a few Pulitzers for a reason.

When I did turn to the net for news, I sighed and thought, more coffee needs swallowed before I can take on those headlines and their stories. I wondered, when will we land on the Star Trek track where we make greater and more impressive changes? Will we ever reach that point, or will we forever fight the same wars again and again? At the rate we’re going, we’re going to ruin civilization, take down humanity and much of the planet in the same blink.

Yeah, I’m a bit pessimistic and cynical on this chilly AM.

Out of this, I remembered a song line, “I hope we see the light before it’s ruined.” Took me a few to recall it’s from “Ghetto Gospel” by 2Pac, and then the 2005 song began running the course in my morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). Released in the year that I moved to southern Oregon, I caught the song on as I traveled back and forth to meet with my team in San Mateo, California, every month. I find the song has a lovely and intriguing melody and a powerful but hopeful message. I’ll take some hope with my coffee today.

Stay strong, be positive, lean forward, and vote. Back to the coffee cup for me. Enjoy the video and music. Cheers

Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

Do you know that they still sell packages of cookies that don’t reseal? I’m not talkin’ of one or two cookies; these are packages of twenty-four cookies. It’s like they expect us to eat all the cookies at once so they’d don’t bother with a resealable package. It’d be uncivilized for us to eat a few and then set aside an open package of cookies. The cookies’ freshness must be preserved.

Those manufacturers not providing resealable packages are really cruel. Mean. Barbaric. I’m looking at you, Trader Joe’s.

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: Winbivalent (not sure if it’s winter)

My fellow Terra-zens. Today is February’s 1 in the common era of 2024. It’s a Thursday and local Ashlandia weather is trying to decide if it’s sprinter, spring, or winter. Things are blooming and growing like spring has taken over but the air has a wintry bite and colder temperatures are destined to arrive in the week’s tale end. Temperature is now 54 F after an overnight low of 46 F, on our way to a 56 F high. Rain is also expected but the wind has desisted from its menacing ways. It’s calm, with sunshine highlighting high, darkening clouds against azure sky.

So many ways of looking at the end of January, beginning of February. Like, OMG, 2024 is already a month gone. Or, less than two week until Valentine’s Day, and Christmas is less than eleven months away. If you’re going to school, you might be counting the months until you’re freed from the classroom, whether it’s remote, virtual, or physical. If you’re into the summer, you’re marking your calendar and grinning; just a few more months until summer.

This morning’s morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) is “Only You Know and I Know”. Dave Mason wrote the performed the song in 1970. Delaney and Bonnie and Friends released a cover in 1970. I was a kid then, 13-14 years old. When I heard the D&B’s version, I was taken back. First, I recognized the backbone of the melody, began realizing the song, and then realized, “This isn’t Dave Mason. It’s someone else.” I don’t know why that jarred me so much then, hearing it on my clock radio in my basement bedroom that I remember it so vividly today. Not like I’d not heard covers by different people before. One of those baffling aspects of meself. Fascinating how memory seems to work. From what I read, I might think I remember this but am actually customizing memories to fit my need.

I’m offering Dave Mason’s version first just cuz I enjoy it, and then included a D&B w/ Friends version, one of the friends being Duane Allman in this instance. Hope you like the song and enjoy both versions. Let me know how it goes.

BTW, reason The Neurons plugged this song into my MMMS is a line which goes, “You know you can’t go on getting your way, ’cause if you do, it’s going to get you someday.” And yes, I was thinking of Mr. DJ Trump on the heels of the case of Carroll v. Trump, and the finding that he now must pay 83 million dollars. I am hopeful other things will catchup with him and get him before November of 2024.

They’re starting our house-painting tomorrow by powerwashing it. I wanted to do it myself but my better half wisely talked me out of it, pointing out that it would cut into my writing efforts. That awoke the musi, who shouted, “Yikes! We can’t have that!” Having the house painted is the first step in selling it so we can move away. We’re still searching for where we’ll go. We know we’re heading to the northeastern region of the US but haven’t pinpointed it more. We figure, we’ll pack up, go back to the greater Pittsburgh, PA, area, rent a place, and then begin a serious search. That’s the plan but you know and I know that plans change.

Stay strong, be positive, and keep leaning forward. Coffee has been brewed and sipped, and caffeine is slinking its way among The Neurons. Hey, ho, here we go. Cheers


			

Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

A friend sent me an email which included a recent Charles Pierce column in Esquire.

https://www.esquire.com/news-politics/politics/a46506384/trump-rally-new-hampshire-qanon-hecklers/

My buddy closed his email, “I especially liked the phrase, ‘he will wrestle unsuccessfully with the spark gaps widening in his brain’. Although it occurs to me that few under 60 will know what ‘spark gap means.”

Spark gap might be one term falling out of use. Another is DMZ, as in De-Militarized Zone. A friend teaching network security began talking about a DMZ with servers as part of network security and had to stop and first explain ‘DMZ’.

No surprise for me, but a little sip of delight. The world is always changing; word use is just more piece of evidence.

Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

Just learned today that a good friend, a few years older than me, is suffering dementia. I’ve been through this with other friends in the last twenty years, so I’m loaded with expectations. Most of them aren’t good. But medical technology keeps advancing and I hope that my buddy and his family don’t endure what many others have gone through.

Fingers crossed, you know?

Monday’s Wandering Thought

I watched a young woman walking past the coffee shop. Wearing light-toned blue jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt, a dark blue ball cap let dark hair escape but was pulled low, like she was some manner of gunslinger from wild west days. It was her walk which struck me; her white shoes seemed to slap the concrete and she kept her head down, as though she had to concentrate like the Newman song, left foot, right foot, left foot, and so on.

That walk and style reminded me of someone I knew but no names came to mind. I’ve always been bad with names and faces.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑