Category: Uncategorized

Flooftatership

Flooftatership (floofinition) – Floofocratic rule or control of a household by an animal. Origins: Middle Latin. First known use noted in 1542, in France.

In use: “The novel by George Orwell, 1984, revolves around a rebellion led by two pigs who install a flooftatership.”

In use: “It’s often not an animal’s size that enables it to create a flooftatership that leaves it ruling over other pets, but it’s willful behavior and clear vision that it’s the one who is supposed to be in charge.”

In use: “The little callie came in and started sniffing around. The dogs walked up to investigate her and were rewarded with two explosive swats. Thus began Daisy’s flooftatership in the Dawson household.”

Recent use: “After her old canine, formally known as Dust Bunny but commonly called Queenie or Your Highness, passed on, Willow’s other pets seemed unsure about what to do after living in the late pooch’s flooftatership for more than ten years.”

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Floofzees

Floofzees (floofinition) – A wheezing or blustery snoring sound attributed to animals. Origins: United States, 1837, Henry David Floofreau. Floofreau often described the pleasant torpor induced by the floofzees emanating from the animals surrounding him (1837, Thoughts On A Dozing Life: A Guide to Floofy Companions).

In use: “Even though they were small enough to fit in a hand, the five tabbies were soon issuing whistling floofzees which made Connie listen and smile.”

In use: “As Mickey and his wife watched television, he grew aware of Barker’s growing floofzees. After studying the dog for several seconds, he met his wife’s gaze, and both silently laughed.”

Recent example: “Corwin’s extended floofzees expanded in volume and duraction until the ginger cat startled himself awake, jerking up with a wild, green-eyed gaze.”

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Changing Times

Everything is changing. I’m not stupid. I know that it’s not unusual for things to change. Weather changes, clothes, all that. I’m not stupid.

This is different, you know? This is real change.

I was born in 2032. May, a taurus. I can’t remember much of my early life. I guess it was okay. Then the crumble began. You know, bridges collapsing, blackouts, gas and electricity shortages, water shortages.

I remember that from when I was around ten and our school was shut down. Dad said that taxes had been cut, so you know, the government didn’t have the money for schools, and we couldn’t afford a pay school. Dad was working a full-time job and two part-time jobs. Mom was working three part-time gigs. Working their asses off, both of them. My auntie, who was disabled from diabetes, schooled me and my sisters and cousins in our family room. That’s where she lived.

I did what I could myself. Made some change from helping with cleanups. People would abandon their cars and places, and I’d pirate things and sell them door to door. Tapes and books, old computers, that kind of thing.

We were always hungry, picking berries, apples, plums, whatever we could find. Best time was when I was a teen. Used to be able to pay two dollars to bus tables for fifteen minutes in a restaurant. They let me eat anything that was left. I’d try to stuff things in my pockets for my family, if I could, but I was so damn hungry all the time.

That lasted ‘bout five years. Now I’m 31, and it’s all gone. I’m trying to find a new gig but all I got is my ‘lectric bike and clothes. Most days, it’s too hot to be outside, you know? Gets over 110 by noon, and then climbs twenty degrees more.

Like Mom used to say all the time, the times, they are a-changin’.

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Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

I heard about a wedding — and this wasn’t my nephew’s recent wedding, I hasten to clarify — where the best man didn’t know what he was going to say, so he asked AI for help. AI provided him a speech. The best man then personalized it. After he spoke, no dry eyes were found.

That AI realy knows how to push our buttons.

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Driving With Dad Dream

Another slice of the nocturnal mind’s workings to share.

To begin, I’m with my father. Each of us are similar to our real life appearances but I think we both were a little younger.

I’m getting an award. I don’t know what it’s for. Dad wants to attend. He tells me, “We’ll go together. We’ll drive there.”

He gestures toward a car. A silver behemoth, it may have been manufactured in the 1930s and features a long wheelbase — think of a large SUV here — running boards, an upright radiator, and spindly, narrow wheels and tires. Its condition is show-car perfect.

“What is that?” I ask. I see from looking around that he has other, more modern cars but still several decades old. All are well cared for. A graceful, polished gray model’s dazzling shine catches my eye from one.

In answer, he says, “You drive. We better get going. It doesn’t have a high top speed.”

I am floored. At that moment, two sisters arrive. They want to go with us.

Dad is against that. Telling them so, he finishes, “But I want you there. Take one of my other cars.”

A large steel garage door which was previously unnoticed grinds open. Behind it are modern sports and luxury cars. “Take one of those cars,” Dad says.

My sisters are already clamboring into a new red Mazda Miata. I say, “Why can’t we take one of those?”

Dad responds with non-sequitors. I interrupt him. “If you want to ride with me, why don’t we take one of those cars?” I see a BMW in the garage. “Like that blue BMW. Why don’t we take it?”

Evasive as before, Dad basically declares, “I want to take this car.”

We climb into his old car. I ask, “Is this a Bugatti?”

Dad doesn’t respond. Firing up the old machine, I keep looking for clues about what it is.

That’s where the dream ends.

I tote this dream down as another manifestation of unspoken worries and doubts about my life and where it’s at. Pretty standard stuff. Retired from corporate and military careers, I’ve staked a lot of time and hope on writing fiction. I’m driven to write, but will it go anywhere beyond my computer? Or, as the dream suggests to me, am I interested in trying another vehicle?

As I pass over the post again, though, the driving theme raises new questions. Writing = driving. Whether I want to or not, I need to go on. Some of my choices seem taken away from me by some deeper driving force within me.

Looking at it another way, though, I can point out, it’s a silver car I’m being forced into, a classic which is in good condition, and I’m driving off to collect an award. Looking at it that way, my subconscious is encouraging me to go with what I’m doing.

It’s amusing how these dream elements can be addressed. Even if I find success beyond writing for myself, I think that I’ll always be wrestling with the drive and need to write, and my doubts. Just part of my imposter syndrome surfacing again.

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: jouncy

We’re mid week, but almost the end of the month. Prepare for October; it’s coming.

We’re also entering 2023’s final calendar quarter. 2024 sees us coming and is rushing out to greet us and lick our faces. From what I read on the net, many people are dreading 2024, because of the state of politics in the US and the elections which 2024 brings us. I tend toward the optimistic side of life, so I think the justice system will triumph. I think if I fervently repeat that enough, I’ll believe it can happen. Sorry for the early cynicism.

So many in the US are misinformed as voters and citizens. Slander campaigns are on the rise from the right. They love throwing out fake narratives. They know that people remember the first thing they learn about something, and displacing that information is hard for political campaigns. Increasing the difficulty of correcting false informatin is the right wing destruction machine. It blasts out falsehoods on high volume, looping it day and night, things like the 2020 election was stolen from Trump.

Repeating this information is enough to keep people fooled. For a historic perspective, look how Dubya’s team approached Gulf War II. Their marketing changed the number of people fearing Iraq, and convince many that dire military intervention was the only way to save the world. Twenty years later, we know how that turned out.

But before 2024 arrives, we must endure the 2023 budget show. The GOP reprises this tactic just about every other year. Twenty-eight times, they’ve shut the gov’mint down in protest or to force their way on us. Coercion and fear, hypocrisy and lies, innuendo and smears; that’s our modern GOP. Lincoln weeps for what has become of the party he created.

On to lighter topics, like the weather. It’s a chilly fall AM. Brisk is the mind-friendly term. Rain has been falling intermittently in the last several days. I love the smells and sounds and its positive impact. Like many things, though, too much rain can cause as many problems as too little. Always surfing the balance, aren’t we?

Cloudy skies rule us. We expect high sixties today. It’s currently 53 F in Ashlandia, where the trees are abandoning green in favor of bright reds, yellows, oranges, and so on. Yes, the colors are flaring up all around, a beautiful sight. Wisps of burning odors from wildfires still strike me from time to time, forcing me to the net to prarie dog it and see if another fire started.

Not all is perfect in our realm, though, even with the fires dying under the rain’s. Treatment for algae blooms in our water system has festooned the water with a sharp chlorine smell and an earthy flavoring. Well, it’s drinkable, and it’s running, and it’s not killing us, so it’s a good thing. Such an optimist, I am.

Dreams again inspired The Neurons with the morning mental music stream (Trademark ludicrous). Thanks to a dream involving driving cars, I’m hearing the pop ditty, “Going Mobile” by The Who in my head. It’s off one of my favorite albums, Who’s Next. Although Daltry isn’t on this song at all, it features classic Who touches, Townsend’s guitar work and heavy, busy drumming.

Stay pos, and be strong, and power forward. My coffee fuel has been administered. I’m ready to take on things like shaving. Have a good one. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

The net can be a dizzying roller coaster. Bad news headlines, followed by humor on a friend’s blog, then disastrous breaking news, chased by sweet floof photos, which give way to dire predictions, trailed by fascinating new scientific or historic findings, war and political updates, and book reviews.

I ride throughout the day, breaking off to soothe myself with my personal writing, and then releasing all the pent tension with a relaxing game or two (or four). You know, Wordle. Spelling Bee. Sudoku.

How different from my youth. We watched television together in the family room — ‘in color’ — so it was a consensus choice. Five channels were available: PBS, the big three, and one UHF channel that washed in and out on a sea of static. Sitcoms (“Green Acres”), dramas (“Gunsmoke) and thrillers (“The Man From U.N.C.L.E.”) entertained us, or the Movie of the Week, delivering Psycho, Seven Days in May, and The Sound of Music, among a plethora of others.

Then I consider how different my mother’s childhood was. She was a little girl in Turin, Iowa, during the Depression and World War II, eating popcorn and listening to a radio with her family, or going to the hardware store to watch “I Love Lucy” on the only television in their small town.

Reaching further back, I struggle with visualizing how it was in my grandfather’s youth. He helped establish Turin a few decades before Mom was born. Guess I’ll surf the net about it and see what I find.

Once on the roller coaster, getting off it isn’t easy.

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: introspective

Sunshine glistens off a wet, clean sheen, complementing the air’s fresh smell with sigh-inducing vigor. Fall has been good to Ashlandia, so far. That could present further clues about why I like it. Summer in our zone becomes damaging. Blazing sun takes over, cooking the plants. Temperatures lunge into the nineties toward triple digits. Sweat pours off us as the heat broils us. Wildfires light up as summer lightning strikes parched vegetation. Smoke spreads, clotting our lungs and stinging our eyes.

Come fall, with soothing, “there, there” damp temperatures, the world relaxes; we the people relax with it. In my perfect world, I’d have fall weather but with the long stretch of daylight seen in the summer. That’s where fall fails me, as orbits and planes shift, moving the sun away from us, shortening the daylight.

Temperatures today will operate in a narrow zone. 56 F now, cloudy, 66 F later, with rains coming and going throughout the day.

A bevy of tunes fell into the morning mental music stream (Tradement teasing). Dreams sparked these. Such a myriad of wild, long dreams were experienced. The Neurons just rode the current. The song which ended up on top was “Who Can It Be Now?” by Men At Work from the 1980s.

It’s a true Aussie new wave sound. The part which The Neurons linked to a dream is a line, “It’s not the future that I can see, it’s just my fantasy.” That’s a true beat to my waking mind dealing with the dream mind.

Stay pos and hydrated, be strong and push forward. I can and will with help from my little dark friend steaming in a large mug. Here’s the music. Let’s enjoy some life. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: mixed

It’s a mixed tape day for me and my moods on Sunday, September 24, 2023. Our air has gotten worse in Ashlandia, where the day is somber and the streets are quiet. Awakening heavily congested, with a mild smoky odor in the air, I feel like I’m not far from a roaring fireplace where WH documents are being burned ala Mark Meadows. I crank on the air filter.

Being congested brought the usual interrogation in my head. What is the cause behind the congestion? Potential causes are wildfire smoke, cold, flu, COVID, asthma, other. I washed my nasal passages with a saline solution made for that purpose, blew my nose several times, and endured several sneezing bouts. That’s all ended. None was overly bad; the wonder about the cause is more of a problem.

The smoke is worse today. Although it’s still only ‘unhealthy’ by air quality standards, psychologically, we’ve moved into the deep ‘this sucks’ stage. It does seem to be thinning now; the mountains are looking less opaque and blue. Rain is expected today. It rained last night, though, and didn’t reduce the smoke. Time to mask up again.

Autumn is asserting control of the our regions weather. Smoke and clouds weaken the sun’s glory, rendering the sky a bland white mildewing with gray. Temperature is 63 F under ‘haze’. High temperature of 71 F has been put out there for us. A few trees are beginning to transition. Yellows and reds are streaking along a few branches.

I’m generally in favor of fall, or autumn as most of the world calls it. Lower temperatures and less smoke are associated with Ashlandia’s fall. Fall is also home to Thanksgiving, one of my favorite holidays due to the work Mom put into it when I was young and living with her. She prepared all the dishes, doing so with pride and diligence, delivering wonderful roasted turkey with all the works dinners.

Today’s music selection foisted on my by the neurons came out about thirty years ago. “Acquiesce” by Oasis is rattling around the morning mental music stream (Trademark screwed up). I think a dream inspired Der Neurons to play the song for me. The dream was a long, convoluted piece about being forceful but getting lost. One line of song lyrics is, “I don’t know how to wake the things that sleep inside.” I was instead thinking, what’s going on in me? Something feels like it’s been awakened. I can see how Les Neurons put all that together and came up with “Acquiesce”

Stay pos, be strong, and work it like you own it. I’ve had a few drams of black brew, and now I’m feeling fiesty. Here comes the music. Time to rock on. Cheers

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Saturday’s Wandering Thought

While visiting in Pittsburgh for a wedding, we spoke with some rabid MAGAts. Common ground was found around three things:

  1. We don’t like the country’s current direction (but disagree on why, except inflation)
  2. Term limits are needed for US representatives and senators.
  3. A age limit is also needed for all Federally elected offices.

Unfortunately, we agreed, the ones most responsible for the mess are also the ones who can effect change easiest but passing laws for numbers two and three from our list.

We know that the final problem is, these elected representatives of, by, and for the people, will never pass laws which make them more responsible to the people.

So, really, we had five things we agreed upon in our search for common ground. None of us were real thrilled with most aspects of the media, too.

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