Category: Travels

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: reflective

We’re about to rock Thursday, August 10, 2023 — or is it about to rock us?

It’s a comfortable morning in Ashlandia, where the children are young and the parents are hopeful. 70 F and sunny now, 91 is on the books as the expected high. Relative humidity is hovering around 41%. Mild breezes carry mountain chills into the valley as the sun’s heat starts taking over.

My thoughts are with Hawaii today. The photos, videos, and tales emerging from the islands are saddening, soul-killing. Hawaii for me was a beautiful exotic place to visit, almost like paradise. It’s painful to think of those wonderful people and lands burning. Not too much different from what it was like to see Italy burning, Spain, California, Australia, and other places around the world in the last few years. Whether Hawaii’s disaster is linked to climate change, I don’t know. Fires do happen but so many devastating fires and disasters have been witnessed in the last ten years, the tension of impending collapse feels like it’s increasing. There is evidence that climate change is happening, and accelerating. For us not to try to mitigate what we can is such a depressing, defeatist, and selfish attitude that my dismay rises to disbelief. That so often the excuse for not doing something is that it will be bad for business is appalling.

I paused for a bit to remember the many places I visited and how fortunate I was to have visited them. Too often I forget how privileged I’ve been and am. It’s a side effect of privilege, one of several, that you ended up taking these things for granted.

The Neurons plucked “The Best of Times” by Styx out of the mental repository. It’s playing full tilt in the morning mental music stream (Trademark uncertain), brought on by the lyrics, “Rumor has it, it’s the end of paradise.” So often when we look back, we have a moment that we think of as the best of times. Those are generated by relativities of who you are, where you were, your expectations and disappointments, really, your reality. I think about future generations and what they’ll look back upon, and wonder. Fortunately, beyond the broader landscape of existence, people have their own bubbles of being. It’s in there where we take comfort as we can, and stock hope for something better.

Time for coffee, or as I dub it, ‘coffee time’ (trademark rejected). Say positive and hopeful, even optimistic, and let’s keep moving forward. Peace out, as they used to say.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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The Best 3 Things of the Gold Beach Vacay

We went west to the Pacific Ocean, enjoying its presence from the shores of a little town called Gold Beach in southern Oregon (population: 2241). Highway 101 runs through it from California, serving as the main way in and out. We stayed there three nights and four days, making and taking terrific memories. Here are my top three worthies from bottom to top.

3. Jet Mail Boat to Agness. First, the boat doesn’t have propellers, which allows it to travel in water as shallow as twelve inches. Using three 6.2 liter Chevy marine engines to steer and propel it along, the boat delivers the mail to Agness six days a week during the summer. Besides the boat ride and the history of the USPS run from Gold Beach to Agness up the Lower Rogue River, we saw a bear eating blackberries, a few river otters swimming around, deer, Roosevelt elk, beavers, osprey and their nests and young, and a couple bald eagle nests. We were also told about the stunning 1964 flood. We were about fifty feet below a bridge. That flood crested three feet above that bridge deck. Like, mind blowing. Besides it, we learned about the now departed Lowry fishing camp. Clark Gable used to fish there, among many celebrities and politicians, but Cable always asked for our boat pilot’s grandfather as his fishing guide. So we had water, boating, nature, and history, along with a dinner at a lodge.

2. Chapter One – yes, it’s a coffee shop. I enjoy coffee shops, even have a passion for them. First, I like a good brew. Second, I look for the ambiance. Third, I consider the food offerings. Like my other favorites — the lamented Li Di Da in Half Moon Bay and the long departed original Beanery of Ashland — Chapter One offers these things. They almost displaced The Green Salmon as the best coffee house. The Green Salmon’s fabulous gluten free baked goods keeps the competition level, but Chapter One’s maple scone was OMG excellent. What keeps the Green Salmon (Yachats, OR) at number one is their gluten free vegan breakfast sandwiches. Oh, yeah.

  1. The Pacific Ocean. We had a beautiful stretch of little used public which was a few miles long. It was so little used, it felt private. Wonderful to breathe fresh ocean air, gaze out over the sun splashed waves, and hear the crash and roar. Walking the beach was done several times a day. Great place for contemplating existence and discarding worries. I left a lot there in the beach’s sand.

Just want to note that the numbering is another WP thing. It insisted on indenting #1, at the bottom of the list, identifying it as ‘list’ and indenting it. Why? Only WordPress knows for sure.

Naturally, to make this a complete WP experience, it dropped again while I wrote this. Couldn’t save the draft, couldn’t publish. Had to work around by copying it and pasting it to a doc and then creating a new post.

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: upbeat

We’re leaving the coast today and the coast weather has turned gray in sadness. Yes, that’s really what I tell myself.

It’s Wednesday (right? Is that right?), August 2, 2023. Beautiful weather until this morning. This still isn’t bad, just cool at 56 F, and a marine layer clouds. We still have that awesome ocean sight, smell, and sound. It’ll still be in the mid sixties here. Meanwhile, we’ll arrive home at 91 F. Gotta say, I’m looking forward to seeing my floof boys. I miss the goof balls when I don’t have regular access to them.

We’ll head north to see more of the coast. When we drove here, we dropped down into northern California, passing through a redwood forest, which is a wonder of its own. Now we’ll just zip north on 101 to Bandon and cut across the coastal mountains via Winston and pick up I5 south for our final leg.

The Neurons are driving “Route 66” through the morning mental music stream (trademark lost). Came about from conversations about what route to take home, natch. A terrific song, there are multiple grand covers of this song about. I ended up channeling John Mayer’s version from a Pixar movie.

Alright, fire up the coffee machine and let’s get on with the show. Be safe, be safe, be pos. It’s an exciting life. Can be depressing, can be uplifting. What what you can with the moods.

Here’s the tune. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

I’m away from home, so I worry about my floofies. Per the instructions I left with the cats, I logged onto Zoom today at the appointed time. They immediately joined to purr and complain to me. A little of both. They said the weather isn’t bad the human caretaker I hire was doing ‘okay’.

Yeah, that’s fantasy. There wasn’t a Zoom con with the cats. I did call the caretaker and she said they’re doing great. Next best thing to being there with them.

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: mixed

It’s Monday, July 31, 2023. Yes, this time it really is Monday. Yesterday had me thinking Sunday was Monday. I have it screwed on right.

So, it’s a mixed mood. We’re on the beach, renting a house in Gold Beach with friends. That’s our back porch view from 8 AM. Not bad. Clear weather, about 60 degrees F, full sunshine, the whole shebang.

Here to relax with others. But I miss my writing and routines. I’m required to socialize, and I’m awkward at doing so. Especially when solitude and silence are scarce. My wife is sympathetic — she does know me after over years of being together from middle teens to now — but t’ain’t anything to be done about it. Things collide.

Interesting tense moment during the drive yesterday. Was on a two-lane highway, third car in line, carving up the mountains between southern Oregon and Nor Cal at a speed varying from 55 to 65 MPH. heading for the coast. Rounding a corner, I saw a woman starting to cross the road. I then saw her stepping back. A truck in the other lane was stopped to turn. I looked back up in time to see the two cars ahead of me slam on their brakes. Shouting, “Jesus Christ,” because I knew I couldn’t stop in time, I veered into the other lane and flattened the brake pedal against the floor. As I wrestled with the steering to keep the car straight, the car slewed about, tires chirping, chassis shuddering, traction control and antilock kicking in. We stopped and no one was hit. While I appreciated that the first car’s driver was being polite, stopping on a highway around a blind corner where the speed limit is 65 might not be sensible. Afterward, my wife and I agreed, we didn’t need any coffee for the day.

Der Neurons chose today’s music based on another moment from yesterday. Last night, I went upstairs to bed. I was last and it was late. I didn’t want to turn on lights and disturb anyone, so I went up in the complete darkness. Man, was it black and lightless. Going slowly, feeling with my feet as I climbed, I experienced a weird sensation that the black ahead of me was solid. What a trip.

Anyway, thinking about it, Les Neurons punched up “On the Dark Side” by Eddie and the Cruisers, aka, John Cafferty and the Beaver Brown Band for the morning mental music stream (trademark explored).

Now I’m off to trek the beach for a while before the sea breeze cranks up too high. Stay pos, be strong, and live the day. No coffee for me, thanks; already had two cups.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

A beautiful day has been born in Ashlandia, where the produce is local, except for the imports. We’ll call this Sunday, July 30, 2023. Skies of blue promise don’t know anything about smoke, and sunshine is spilling down. 56 F now, 89 F is the projected high, quite doable numbers.

A short post. I’m getting on the road to another city here shortly. So I’m eating coffee and drinking breakfast — oh, wait, other way — and then I’ll be in the bath for the standard three morning maneuvers which start with S. Then I’ll dress. That’s right, I’m naked and posting. No, not really. I’m in my night shorts. They were originally sold to me as jogging shorts but they work so well with a tee shirt, that it’s my chosen sleep gear. Today’s tee shirt features the Blues Brothers and was picked up in Chicago at Buddy Guy’s bar.

Since I’m going on the road again, my oh so imaginative Neurons have packed the morning mental music stream (trademark visualized) with Willy Nelson singing “On the Road Again”. You know that’s gotta be my theme music on this day.

All you on the road have safe travels. Whether on the road or not stay positive and be strong. Keep your eyes on the road and your hands upon the wheel. Here’s the music. More coffee, anyone?

Cheers

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A Space Dream Again

I dreamed again that I was in my home office but my home and yard had been lifted intact to travel through space. I dreamed that, as I had done in real life, I awoke and looked at my open windows. For a moment, in the dream, I worried that my windows were open to the vacuum of space and that all would be sucked out and destroyed. Then I knew, no, a bubble around the house enclosed and protected me. It provided me air and kept me and my household and its members safe even as we flew through space. Stepping to the window, I raised lowered my blinds and gazed out as the house rushed through black space, destination unknown.

I woke up happy.

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The Space Dream

I dreamed I was traveling through space. My house and its lot had been lifted away from the Earth, and there we went, soundlessly zooming through space. After thinking in the dream, is that what’s happening, I was given a distant perspective that confirmed, yep, there I go, with the house, wife, cats, and yard.

I pointed it all to my wife, calling to her as she did something in another room. All I had no idea what our destination was and had questions — was I onboard a larger ship, and who launched us like this — I enjoyed being out there. I was exactly as I now am, as was my house and yard. I saw this from a temporary external position, as though I needed to see it, before returning into my body. Settling behind my desk in my home office, I resumed my typing.

I awoke abruptly. In panic, I thought, where are the cats? Where are Tucker and Papi? Did I put them out? OMG, did I put them out in space? But if I put them out into the yard, wouldn’t they be safe, because it’s — it’s — wait.

Confusion mounting and taking over, I stumbled away from bed, thinking, where am I now? What should I do? If I open the door, would it — what would happen? But —

I’d been in space. But wasn’t that a dream? Or was I now dreaming? Neurons regrouping, we agreed with a laugh, being in space was the dream. Reality was that I was home, securely part of the Earth. But I went out and found the cats, ensuring they were really okay, just in case, you know, and then gazed up at the stars and moon for a few seconds with recollection of the dream.

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

TL/DR – went up north to get my REAL ID. An overnight trip. The cats are happy we’re home. Gonna get hot here in the next few days.

A late post to the day. We’ve returned to Ashlandia, where the temperature is 85 F, the time is 7:07 PM, and the people are sweaty. Been away today, heading north on the great driver license quest yesterday. See, I turn 67 next week and license expires. Being over 65 means renewing must be done in person so they can check my eyes, a fifteen second step in the entire process. But let’s go back to the start.

Got the notice a few months ago and began to plan. First thing I learned is that Ashlandia’s DMV office is open three days a week, seven hours on Tuesday and Thursday, and six hours on Wednesday. Second, the line gets long very quickly. People are outside an hour before, waiting for the office to open. Third, there are no appointments available. I tried making one for weeks, again, again, again, again, again.

I checked the Medford DMV, twenty-five miles up the road. No appointments to be found — again, again, again, again, again. Next was Grants Pass, fifty miles away. No appointments. But Canyonville, up Interstate 5, 85 miles away, had appointments. So I will go, I decided. My wife said she would accompany so we decided that we’d go on to Eugene to shop for books, shoes, clothes, and stay overnight. See, a wedding is coming up in a few months. Quite formal, one of my nephews, and we’re gonna be there.

After making the appointment, I told several friends about my efforts. One related that his son just renewed his license. I don’t know why he didn’t do it online, but he went down to the DMV office in Medford, where he resided, four times. Finally arrived one morning half an hour before the office opened. Got in line. Finished four hours later.

I could have done that, I suppose, just keep going to the DMV and getting in line and waiting, rather than racing up the highway. But a road trip is more fun than sitting around for me.

Anyway, one of the other friends mentioned that he’d tried renewing in Ashlandia, and then in Medford, and found the waits exasperating. As he and his wife had to go to Portland, they stopped in Canyonville. He walked into the DMV and had it all done in minutes.

Well, I arrived yesterday at the Canyonville DMV fifteen minutes before my appointment. Walked in. One person working in there. Fifteen people waiting. Everyone had a number. But I had an appointment. Where do you go if you have an appointment? There was no guidance.

The person being served finished. The sole agent called for the next number. I headed toward the counter. A woman leaped up and said, “I have a ten fifty appointment.” Her name was checked, appointment verified. I said, “I have an eleven o’clock appointment.”

The agent said, “Wait on the red carpet. That way, we’ll know you have an appointment.”

Ah, the red carpet, of course! The three by three foot red carpet. How could I have not known that? That’s how her friendly but snarky tone sounded.

A little after eleven, a second agent snuck into the work area and called the next number. I said, “Excuse me, but I’m standing on the red carpet!”

Quickly the agent bowed. “Please forgive me and come forward.”

No, just in my imagination. Actually, I just told the new agent what I had an eleven o’clock appointment. She asked me my name and we began. It was a quick ordeal, barely long enough to call it an ordeal. Funniest part was that I wear glasses to drive but forgot to put them on when I did the eye exam. “Perfect,” the agent said. “Do you wear contacts?”

“No, I just forgot to wear my glasses.”

Supposed to get hot tomorrow, with sunshine exploding with heat and dry, calm air moving it, the low nineties are anticipated. Gonna be that way, getting warmer, for a few weeks, not just in Ashlandia, but in southwestern Oregon.

Returning today, the cats were happy to see us. Papi was relieved to be allowed back outside. Although we have a pet door installed, Tucker likes sleeping in front of it, blocking Papi’s progress and giving him stress and anxiety. So, pet door were closed, and the cats were locked in the house together with food and water for about thirty hours. Blocked windows provided them with fresh air and kept the place cool.

Today’s music came about after we watched Taylor Mac’s 24-Decade History of Music last night. It’s amazing, incredibly creative, fascinating in so many ways, and a showcase of impressive talents by multiple individuals. I surfed the net for more info about it this morning. I ended up coming a “Better Together” with Jack Johnson being done as part of Song Around the World/Playing for Change. I offer it up to you.

Stay strong, be cool, and continued to have brightly positive, as you can, when you can. Here’s the music.

Cheers

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A Driving Dream

My wife, SIL, and I needed to take a trip. I procured a car for us, paying cash for it. It just happens that it looked just like the 1968 Camaro RS I owned in RL in 1975, complete with stripes and black vinyl top, a fun, reliable, and sporty car. In the dream, I didn’t know that it was like my Camaro of my youth because we were youths.

I don’t know why we were traveling by car, other than going from point A to B. Tucker, a current RL cat, was traveling with us. My SIL and I took turns driving, although I did most of it. At one point while I was driving, I suddenly couldn’t control the speed. I was telling them that in the car as I tried braking, kicking the accelerator, and then trying to take the car, an automatic, out of gear, attempting to put it into neutral. When I couldn’t move the center console shifter, I concluded, “I think we’ve lost the transmission.”

I managed to get the car stopped. We got out to talk and stretch our legs. My wife was inattentive and left the car door open. Tucker immediately leaped out. I caught him and then scolded her for leaving the door open and letting Tucker out. She dismissed me and what had happened, which irked me. We decided to go on. I thought for a moment that she was going to drive, which I didn’t want for some reason. I then drove again.

We arrived at a hotel and in a dream blink, we were checked in and up in our room. I think it was in Chicago. It was a large, lavish suite, which included a butler of sorts who was also pressing us to eat or drink, telling us each time, “It’s free.” I didn’t think it was free, but included in the room. At one point, we discussed going out to dinner. The butler started making suggestions about where to go. My SIL was reading about our room during the conversation and asked, “Do you know what floor we’re on?” As my wife replied, “No,” SIL said, “We’re on the 668th floor.”

I went over to the huge windows and looked out. Seeing how high we were, I gasped. “Wow. Why are we so high?”

Dream end.

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