Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I don’t mind sweating, but I’ll tell you, I intensely dislike it when the sweat makes my boxer shorts stick to my butt cheeks. Makes me want to swear off undies, but then I’d just end up with my shorts stuck to my butt. The only option seems to be to avoid sweating, unless someone makes undies that repel sweat…
Woof.
“More Than A Feeling” (Boston, 1976) is a song about memories and regrets. Yeah, mistakes? I’ve made a few.
After a pleasant writing session yesterday, I drifted through plans and my personal history, which took me into this song.
So many people have come and gone
Their faces fade as the years go by
Yet I still recall as I wander on
As clear as the sun in the summer sky
I was twenty years old when this song came out and stationed with the U.S. Air Force in the Philippines. Whenever this song was played at parties, someone inevitably requested, “Turn it up.” Dos, someone usually played the air guitar. Trey, several people would sing along. It’s that kind of song, a poignant rocker.
A beard and mustache like smudges on the face
long and thick brown hair pinned up to play baseball
faded bell-bottom blue jeans with a large hole in the rear
and no undies underneath
white high-top canvas shoes
hand-painted fluorescent orange
a worn white tee-shirt with a green marijuana leaf in the center of the chest
under by a torn military fatigue shirt signed by everyone met
worn open like a jacket
quoting Asimov, Clapton, Kirk, and Clemente
reading Leary, Chekov, Dumas, Tolkien, Heller, and Knowles
listening to the Stones, Humble Pie, Cream, Jimi, Janis, and Bob
dancing to Sly, Chicago, Three Dog Night, and EW&F
runnin’, walkin’ and bikin’ to go anywhere and everywhere
through any weather and across any terrain
That’s the fourteen-year-old that I remember.
Don’t you love it when you’re outside with a hat on, and a large spider starts running around on your hat brim’s underside, and then he drops down on a thread and swings onto your sunglasses like Tarzan, and then races onto your cheek and makes a dash over your mustache for your nostril?
Yes, yes, I really love it.
Really.
Ah, nature.
Okay, I knew this song, but, one, I didn’t know who performed it; two, I didn’t know the song title; and, three, I didn’t know what year it came out. I also only knew a few choruses. None of this stopped it from streaming in my head as I was walking yesterday. Boisterous, with a thumping beat, it’s an excellent freakin’ walking song.
I needed the details. I mentioned the song to the barista yesterday, telling her it was stuck in my head, and sharing some of the song with her.
“That’s familiar. Wait.” She stared into space. “I know it but I don’t know who did it or the name of it.”
“Well, I need to go look it up.”
She nodded. “Please tell me if you find what it is, because now it’s stuck in my head.”
Well, I found it. Took a good five minutes, but the net is an impressive place. Here is Fitz and the Tantrums with their song, “The Walker”, from 2013. Let me know if you recognize it.
He rounded a corner and turned to head up a hill. A woman, perhaps in her early twenties, was also going up the hill.
His energy had been lagging and the hill was steep, so he decided that he would push himself and stride up that hill.
He began the walk. Within seconds, he realized that the young woman was right behind him.
Well, that wouldn’t do. Pressing his lips together, he pressed into a fast stride and higher speed. After a dozen feet, he peeked back out of the corner of his eye.
He almost broke stride. She was still there. Damn it. Sucking energy out of his reserves, he walked as fast as he could up the long, steep hill.
Reaching the top was a crosswalk with traffic light. He stopped to wait for the light to change. She caught up with him. “Wow, that was some pace you had coming up the hill. I thought that I’d use you to pace myself, but I couldn’t keep up.”
He nodded. “I was trying to get away from you. I was pretending that a beautiful young woman was stalking me because she wanted my body, and I had to escape.”
Her eyes widened. Her mouth clamped shut.
He grinned. “Don’t worry, it’s just a silly fantasy to push me to walk faster. Of course it’s not true.” Stepping closer to her, he said, “Right?”
The light changed. He strode away.
Two people were in the cross walk. The red Volkswagen Jetta had plenty of time to stop, but the young woman drove through the crosswalk, missing a pedestrian on either side by two to three feet.
Enraged, they gestured and shouted at her. She had a good excuse for not seeing them and stopping, because she was on her cellphone.
Summertime. Good book, good Gershwin song, interesting cover by Sublime, “Doin’ Time”, a most excellent song to stream while walking around, enjoying summertime.
Know some places are having some summertime heat struggles. Hope y’all survive to have a better day.
“Stay with Me” by the Faces (1971) popped into this morning’s stream. This type of bluesy rock, with so many musical elements heard complementing one another, remains my favorite style. Ronnie Woods plays a wicked guitar. Love that opening. It’s good air-guitar stuff. Ian McLagen is awesome on the piano, and then that singer, with the gravelly voice, what’s-his-name? Yeah, Rod Stewart, did a damn fine job with the vocals.
Good walking song. Don’t trust me on there. Get out there and walk and do your Rod Stewart imitation. You know you got one.
It was funny, to me.
Dreamed I got ear wax out of my ear (where else, right?), about a quarter-inch diameter ball of it. Said to self, “Self, my, that’s a lot of ear wax.” Then I ran around looking for somewhere to dispose of it. I was in a hurry to catch a train (or a bus – it seemed like a moving target).
The ball of ear wax kept growing. I continued to notice that, show it to others, and say, “That’s a lot of ear wax.” I realized that I was often saying that to myself in the dream, and laughed.
Meanwhile…the dream filled with people, family, friends, previous co-workers, and strangers. Some night of something had just ended. We were looking around and rejoicing that we’d come out well. Everything was in good shape. I finally disposed of the ear wax, which was basketball sized. In a weird epiphany in the dream, I saw that the ear wax was my past.
Someone noticed some vomit on the floor. The scene became a little CSI oriented. Questions were asked about who and when. The consensus was a cat had puked but the identity remained a mystery. The bigger mystery was, who is going to clean it up.
Somehow that was handled. Leaping forward, I was well-dressed and ready to travel. Had shiny black shoes on, and briefcase in my hand. But the area was chaos. No one knew where to go. Separating and isolating myself from others, I scanned the situation and decided on a direction.
I headed that way. Others wanted to know where I was going. “Out of here,” was my reply. “I know the way out. Come with me, if you need to leave.”
Others said, “Can I come with you?”
Amused, I shrugged. “Sure, but I’m moving fast.”
Dressed in a suit and overcoat, suitcase in one hand, briefcase in the other, I took off, walking fast through the crowd. Others, a knot of eight people followed me. As I dodged others, I kept looking ahead and refining where I was going. Fewer people were around. At this point, I was on a train station platform. Others behind me said, “Where are we? Do you know where you’re going?”
I smiled, because I knew where I was, and where I was going. It was all very affirming. My last thought was, I’m leaving the past.
Dream ended.
