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.”
I’ve learned to accept my older self. I’m no longer slender or muscular with thick, shiny hair, striding through places like I might be someone famous. Now I’m graying, thinning, bloated. Sagging and wrinkling skin mark the progress of decades of being.
But I’ve learned that if I don’t look in a mirror, I’ll be alright. Makes shaving my face a serious challenge, though.
The way that Thanksgiving and Christmas seem to be getting blended together, may as well just call it Thanksmas and get it over with, unfortunately for the other holidays being celebrated during this this period. Egged on by Black Friday deals that start any day of the week and a month before ‘Black Friday’, people and businesses are putting up their X-mas stuff before Thanksgiving (even Halloween, in some cases).
I guess I’m just not in the spirit of these things.
Jill made a great list of things which she is thankful for. I didn’t change it, but I’d add some personal names under the letters: Keri, Dee, Frank, Lisa, Gina, Pat, Amy, Sharon, Debby, Jonathan, Jessica, Cynthia, David, Andrea, Michael, Barb, Jon, Becky, Brenden, Landon, Colten, Lauren, Audrey, Rhea, Matt, Vince, and many other nieces and nephews. Beer was added under B, and wine is found under W. Knowledge is added to k, and L is amended with learning.
Oh, yeah, you’ll find pizza and pie under P. Can’t forget them, along with writing. You know where it goes.
Well, I have a corollary to Moore’s Law, called Michael’s Law. It goes, “The more in a hurry you are, the slower your computer and the Internet will be.”
Maybe my law only applies to me. Perhaps there’s some computer god assistants somewhere watching me. Seeing me hastily scramble to the computer to search for information and then flee because I’m running late, the assistants notify the God in charge. “Michael is in a hurry. He should have left three minutes ago but he needs to look up the address on his computer.”
“You know what to do.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Just like that, my computer is bogged down, no reason given, leading me to curse the machine and the internet and my service provider, and the app being used or the website I’m trying to reach. It isn’t their fault, of course.
I’ve had about twenty-four pages left to edit and revise in the novel in progress for about a month. Reason exists for that number: I keep re-writing and revising the first ten pages of one chapter. I’ve done so six times. After the sixth time — I’m a slow thinker — I realized that I didn’t know enough about the two characters and their relationship.
He was the main character and I’d been writing about him for months. His actions, thinking, and talking filled most of the 420 pages already revised. The other character had never shown up but was obliquely referenced. He was her son, but she wasn’t really his mother. He didn’t know that when he was young, only learning much later in life. He knew she resented him but didn’t know why. He thought he’d murdered her, but it turned out that she hadn’t been killed. Yes, it’s complicated.
After fleshing these things out more, I suddenly realized, oh, they hate each other.
It surprised me. I thought they were hostile and contemptuous toward one another but hadn’t respected the true depths of despise between them. She was secretive and using him, and he didn’t know why, but he didn’t like her and didn’t trust her. After leaving home, he’d researched his ‘mother’ and discovered little of the truth about her, except he hadn’t murdered her, that she’d framed him and she wasn’t dead at all, but had abandoned him and his sister, hiding her existence from them. All this traumatized his sister when she was a child, who responded by ostracizing her brother and becoming a cat. (I told you, it’s complicated.)
Now that I feel better about my understanding of the two, I tore out the chapter to rewrite it again. Then I’ll revise, and when I feel like I can go on, I will. Then I’ll read the novel again for more revision and see how the newest effort holds up.
Although it’s Thursday, November 11, 2023, and fall’s colors claim the land, spring ambiance has won the day. It’s remarkable how much it seems like spring out there. That feeling just boosts my spirits and energy. Gotta love it.
Early afternoon, it’s 60 F outside and the temperature will claw up to 65 F in Ashlandia, where traffic is busy and road construction continues. This weather pleases my cats. Tucker has gone out back into a sunny spot of grass, groomed himself and settled for a nap. Papi wandered in and out a few times, which is his custom regardless of weather, but settled down on a chair cushion in the sun out back and is curled into sleep. Pleasant, even satisfying, to see the two boys out there napping.
Getting a late start. My wife had a problem with one a device this morning. It failed to work for her, so I took it apart and got it going again but killed an hour from the morning. Then she and I discussed genealogy for a while after she accidently discovered a photo and details about her great-great-great grandfather on the net. That stirred my interest again in having my DNA analyzed. I usually avoid it because I know from others how learning about DNA and genealogy becomes a time suck as people learn and pursue info about themselves and their ancestors. I don’t want to invite another time suck into my life, but I also feel like the time has come.
Other than that, and meeting with friends for drinks, reading books, trying to keep up with the news, planning holiday activities, chores, writing, and taking the cars in for maintenance, not much is going on. With so much discouraging news sweeping the world, The Neurons turned on Train with “Calling All Angels” in my morning mental music stream (Trademark blinking). The 2003 song reflects a hopeful vibe for someone who feels like everything is falling apart and came out of the songwriter’s therapy session.
I need a sign to let me know you’re here All of these lines are being crossed over the atmosphere I need to know that things are gonna look up ‘Cause I feel us drowning in a sea spilled from a cup When there is no place safe And no safe place to put my head When you can feel the world shake From the words that are said
And I’m calling all angels And I’m calling all you angels
I won’t give up if you don’t give up I won’t give up if you don’t give up I won’t give up if you don’t give up I won’t give up if you don’t give up
I need a sign to let me know you’re here ‘Cause my TV set just keeps it all from being clear I want a reason for the way things have to be I need a hand to help build up Some kind of hope inside of me
And I’m calling all angels And I’m calling all you angels
Stay pos and hydrated, sleep well and be strong, and lean forward into a better future. Coffee has been deposited in my gullet and delivered the desired effect. Here’s the music. Cheers
Yes, it’s Tuesday, November 14, 2023. We’re approacing November’s midpoint. I have predictions: here in Ashlandia, where the seasons come and go and come and go, will get colder, and the snow line will descend closer to the valley floor, and the sun will be up there but cold fronts will mock its heat.
Inspired by clutching chilly fog and bored, drizzling rain, the temperature is 51 F and might squeak up to 57 F today. Sunrise was at 6:58 AM and darkness will return to the stage at 4:51 PM. Yep, becoming dark earlier as the days chase down the year’s end.
Ah, in news, I see that Truth Social has lost almost 75 million in two years. Clap your hands if you’re surprised that a Trump endeavor lost money.
Had a good laugh over the Supreme Court’s toothless Ethics Code. They use word salad like, “A Justice should avoid impropriety and the appearance of impropriety in all activities,” and “A Justice may engage in extrajudicial activities that are consistent with the obligations of the Judicial Office.” Such nebulous terminology tries to pretend that they’re taking this seriously — look at those serious words! — but they leave them right where they are. What is ‘impropriety’? We each have a definition for it; the way many Democrats and liberals view Justice Thomas’s activites were outside of the ethics expected of a U.S. Supreme Court Justice. He and convervatives didn’t see it like that. So, nothing resolved.
I know, I know, I should be an optimist and say, baby steps, or anything is better than nothing. But I’ve seen this series before and believe I know how it’ll end.
The writing part of me feels pressed for time and energy; the writer doesn’t want much to do with the world outside my wife and cats at the moment. Maybe that’s why The Neurons plugged Linda Ronstadt’s terrific cover of the Rolling Stones’s song, “Tumbling Dice” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark sinking). While aware and considerate of my writing aspirations and the schedule and efforts it generates, they still come to me with offers and requests. And me, being a middle child who wants to help everyone, feels guilty when I can’t accomodate them all. Plus I’m flattered that people trust me for help or advice, or requests my company.
Yeah, if that’s all I have to worry about, I’m doing good, right? And should be happy that others care for me or want my company. Well, that’d be logical, and the passion of writing spits on logic.
Carry on, positive and strong, and lean forward for one another. We can’t make it alone. (Yeah, funny that I say that after complaining that I can’t be left alone to write. SMH. It is a complex existence.) Coffee has jumped into the morning melee and I’m ready to partake. Here’s the music.
Good afternoon. Getting around a little late to this posting today. I dibble and dabbled the morning away, dashing up and down the Interstate and around town during late morning and early afternoon before returning home for naps and reading for a few hours.
It’s November 11, 2023, Saturday and Veteran’s Day. Awoke to a new battle between a feeble sun trying to crawl through chilly gray fog to reach us. Finally worked after a few hours, lifting us from about forty up to a skin scorching 55 F. Bazinga.
As we went zipped about town today, we had lunch and then began joking about our energy levels. “We used to be younger,” my wife and I teased one another. Yes, we used to be crazy, and we used to be fun. Now we’re prudent from mistakes made and lessons learned. Well, with happenstance, we turned off NPR games to pop on the car’s FM radio, and there was Miley Cyrus, repeating our words back at us.
We laughed and my spouse mentioned how much she enjoys the Miley Cyrus song, “Used To Be Crazy”, which came out earlier in 2023. And then I started wondering, when exactly did we start talking about when we were young? I think it was when I was in my forties, which is now about twenty years ago, depending on where the marker in my forties is thrown down, but I can’t verify it without a time machine. But how often do we mourn the passage of our youth and the new people which we end up being? We reflect on how our metabolism drops lower and lower, and with it often goes our energy levels, and maybe our attention levels. I also mourn hair loss and how many body shape has change, and oh, yeah, that hair has grayed and thinned. Were wrinkles mentioned? I forget.
I won’t say that I’ll never be the person I used to be. Techology may surprise us in new ways, like cloning a new version of Michael that I can inhabit with life memories and acquired knowledge intact, which could be pretty cool. Or perhaps an invention that comes along which washes out old cells and blows us out clean and fresh once again, even tailoring the result into which age we’ll like to be. I think I’d like to be 32 again.
Oh, well. This is the shit that is us, and such is life.
Stay positive, be strong and brave, and keep leaning forward. This concludes this portion of my posting day. Here’s the video. Cheers
Thursday, November 9, 2023, has come to have its say in what happens and how it happens with little clear explanation about why it happens. Many people like muddying the clarifications about why things happen because they dislike those explanations. Angers them because they can’t grasp the explanation, so if they can’t understand, why should anyone else? Shut it down; hide it; don’t teach it. Make it a mystery, so they can smugly say, “Nobody knows.”
Down to 34 last night in Ashlandia, where the schools are first rate and the arts and athletics are above average, it’s forty and foggy now as frost covers the bare ground and glazes some grasses. Don’t you worry, though; partly sunny skies will see us through to 57 F by daylights end. The remains of the day will deliver us back into darkness and 37 F.
When I awoke this morning, I opened a window blind. Soft dawn was crawling white through the trees and across the yard. Among the denuded poplar branches, a hummingbird hovered for a few seconds and then zinged away.
The hummingbird’s appearance surprised me. Cold, mid-autumn, winter hustling toward us, I figured hummingbirds would have better places to be.
Meanwhile, Tucker the magnificent (which is the mixed long-haired/short-haired cat’s official title) rose, ate, used the litter box, and went back to bed. Papi, the ginger blade feline floof, went out, declared it too cold, came in, declared himself bored, went back out, declared it too cold, came in, declared himself bored, went out, declared it too cold…get it?
I was outside at midnight last night. Clouds and moon were absent, letting the stars and other celestial bodies take a turn at shiny. Beautiful and serene with clear fresh air, but the black night was hugely cold to my body, driving me into my shelter after just five minutes of standing outside and thinking.
Somewhere in the night, I thought about the GOP – Right Wing – MAGA approach to governing and education. Limitations are the key the their approach. They will not accept anything being taught except what they like and understand as history, which is very, very narrowly defined. Their version of history must not show our nation or white people in a dark light. Our nation is good, because, come on, it’s christian, you know, one god, and all that, as the Founding Fathers so ordered, amIright? In their view, slavery was a good thing: sure people were locked up, traded, and beaten, but they were taught trades and given food and shelter. Surely that’s enough, so don’t dare teach that slaveowners were cruel bastards who often raped slave women and treated slaves worse than animals, unworthy of human rights.
It seems like they take the same approach to anything other than two sexes, male and female, whether it’s in gender or sexual preference. That’s what the bible says, they say, so they must be right.
They only want – no, they only accept – one religion, their version of christianity, and their god, a white, benevolent man who knows everything and is the only deliverer of knowledge, justice, and love. Such a god can’t have ideas about other religions and philosophies, so they can’t be taught because they’re not in their religious book, and their tiny minds can’t brook anything other than what their little black book says, even if they only follow the parts of the little black book that THEY like. Screw the rest of that silly, ancient black book, they decide by action, even if they won’t say it. Like, what’s that whole thing about loving thy brother, turning the other cheek, and that whole thing about bankers and rich men being in the temples and entering ‘the kingdom of heaven?’
“No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.” But, but, capitalism! We are a christian nation, and can’t have rules and regulations which limit our abilities to exploit others and grow wealthier. We’re Capitalists!
“Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment.”
I’m sure wealthy Americans plan to do that after they die, right? Until then, they will donate to charities which support their principles to grow wealthier, as long as it’s tax deductible.
Meanwhile, it’s not the government’s job to take care of anyone else, not in our christian nation. No! That encourages laziness. If they’re lazy, they won’t work for others for low pay so companies and the wealthy can make more money. No, no, no. And if companies pay them too much, then the companies will make less profit, and the shareholders will make less money, and the rich executives won’t be able to collect larger bonuses and buy more beautiful, pretty things for themselves, like mansions, vacation homes, jets, cars, and yachts. So pay for the lower classes must be kept low, for so it’s written in the bible…innit?
It all falls back on education then. Limit what is taught or don’t teach them at all beyond the basics of following instructions. That’s all that’s needed.
All that has me and The Neurons singing Pink Floyd’s mashup from The Wall in the morning mental music stream (Trademark unavoidable). See, the way it goes in The Neurons’ view, the Right Wing dictates and limits what will be taught in school, threatening the school systems and teachers with punishment if they don’t adhere and obey (exhibit A: Florida; B: Texas; C: Wisconsin. Etc.). They want perfect little white children (some blacks might be acceptable, as long as they adhere to the doctrine), all male or female – and nothing else because the bible! (And then they descend into lies about what those ‘other’ so-called sexes do, and how evil they are.) Because, see, they don’t understand. And if they don’t understand, they can’t accept. And if they can’t understand and accept, why should anyone else?
Under the GOP plan, aided by the misnamed “Moms for Liberty” who are all about censorship, which as Matthew Perry imight have said as Chandler Bing on Friends, “Can anything be more anti-liberty than stopping what other people read?”, schools become mills to turn out perfectly ignorant, intolerant, non-thinking little images of their white, bible-thumping masters. And the teachers will be the ones molding these little monsters of tomorrow, so long as the teachers adhere to the doctrine, don’t think, and obey the rules, which they will, or the GOP will beat, intimidate, and incriminate the teachers.
Because anything other than the GOP curriculum is ‘woke’, and that’s communist, socialist, thought control.
See how they turn it on its head? It’s no wonder that the GOP and its christians put its greatest faith in trying to build walls.
Stay positive and woke, be strong, and lean forward for others’ rights and freedoms as well as your own. Coffee is now at hand and warming my innards. Here’s the video.
Michael Seidel, writer 