Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Infloofable (floofinition) – a relationship between animals, or between humans and animals, that’s indescribable.
In Use: “The infloofable complexity of how her cat calmed and grounded her, allowing her to be more comfortably in the world, exceeded humanity’s ability to understand.”
Seen on a truck on Facebook.
Today’s song, “It’s Only Rock n’ Roll (But I Like It)” came out in 1974. I consider this song part of the theme music for my eighteenth year of life. I graduated high school, turned eighteen years old, and joined the U.S. Air Force in 1974. I think the song celebrates my attitude toward rock and roll; it’s just music, but —
I use the song for references, to celebrate, and to time-travel through memories as surely as Marcel Proust’s madeleines. I know it’s only rock and roll, and not significant in many universal schemes (although there’s a potential story, there, isn’t there, about how rock and roll changes things?), but I like it.
The song’s opening, too, offers exasperated questioning about the past and new expectations.
If I could stick my pen in my heart
And spill it all over the stage
Would it satisfy ya, would it slide on by ya
Would you think the boy is strange? Ain’t he strange?
I’ve found that opening question appropriate for my life. What will it take to satisfy the bosses, lovers, friends, family, and gods? Each employs a different measuring system. The tricks are to find what works, what annoys them and causes me enough pain to avoid doing it again, and then monitor it all for changes – ’cause change is, like, you know, probable. Beyond all that shit, it’s a great song to sing to my stream as I walk or drive on my lonesome.
Today is all ’bout looking ahead. We were discussing different things while drinking beers the other night. The conversations invited nostalgia into my streams. I’d been in the military for twenty years. Being in the military with a mission and purpose was much different than this semi-kind of life of writing. After that came some startups and then more than a decade at IBM.
There was a gap in mil service though. I got out after four years, bought a restaurant, was running it while going to college, and then got mighty sick. Broke and weary, I went back into the military. My break in service was almost one year. It was a tumultuous twelve months.
1979 was when I went back in. This song, “Don’t Look Back” by Boston, was out. Back in a barracks at Brooks AFB in Texas, waiting for my wife to join me, this song struck me hard. Don’t look back.
I look back often. It’s mostly in context to remember where I’ve been and helped me adjust my course and remind myself where I’m going. It’s uncharted lands. Walking the next day after I had my conversations and bursts of nostalgia, I reckoned there are different ways of looking back. Looking back is fine as long as you don’t shove yourself into reverse and try to get back there by driving via your mirrors. The mirrors of nostalgia only show a few items.
Of course, the filters of the futures let’s us see even less. That’s why the future is more fun; there’s far less known and much greater potential to be shaped.
curled and tucked, they lie
paws to hands and fur to skin
slumbering in bliss
we cry until dawn
when the sunshine brings relief
from losses and grief
Two women walked by me in the other direction. As I passed them, they slowed, and one said, “Sometimes, you need to be cruel to be kind.”
No! As soon as I heard it, I tried blocking my musical stream. But the buttons had been pushed, and the Nick Lowe song, “Cruel to be Kind” (1979) popped into my head.
I knew exactly who sang this song. When the catchy tune first came out, I had no idea who sang it. As it continually got stuck in my head, I looked the artist up. It’s not a bad song or anything, not bad for streaming in my head as I walk. I don’t know why my stream has such an affinity for it. The song seems to have that word rhythm that sucks me in.
Hope it’ll suck you in, too. Bwahahahaha.
Floofstacle Course (floofinition) – a path over which people negotiate going around and over their housepets to progress from one place to another.
In use: “Loaded with a large tray of fruits, cheeses, crackers, and breads, he had to get through the floofstacle course, edging around Daisy, his elderly retriever, stretching his legs over the big black and white Maine Coon, Panda, and then tip toeing past the sprawling but petite Lady.”
I’m finding my way
through a meandering day
without much to say
Michael Seidel, writer 