Category: walking

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: disconcerted

August 17, in the year of 2023, has graced us with Thursday, the after Lousy Wednesday and the day before Waiting Friday. It’s cooler, cloudier today in Ashlandia, where the workers are busy and the politicians are idle. We expect some storms of thunder, maybe rain, with 91 F as the designated stopping point for the day’s heat. 83 F right now, pretty comfortable, except the humidity is pressing in to make its point that rain could be coming.

Met with the beer gang last night, ten strong. Our first toast, breaking with standards, was to Fani Willis. She’s the Trump breaker indicting the former POTUS with some RICO brew that looks strong on paper and has gained some gushing reviews. First blush, it doesn’t look good for Trump and his gang of eighteen. These were the criminal masterminds trying to work an overthrow of the 2020 election, you know, the one Trump claims to have been stolen after he was soundly beaten. Refusing to bow to reality or lack of evidence, he’s kept on about it. My beer comrades are all looking forward to the moment when Fani Willis brings the wood.

You know Trump is concerned about this turn because he’s come out fast with multiple false claims. He says he has facts that will immediately exonerate him. Then he attacked Willis’ reputation by claiming that she had affairs (pretty laughable, coming from Trump and his shady history), while trying to undermine her role by spewing some lies about Atlanta having a record number of murders, suggesting it would be better use of the DA’s time to pursue murderers. Of course, all these things have been debunked, but since when are facts important in Trump World?

For music, I started singing “This Wheel’s on Fire” to myself yesterday while walking. Written by B. Dylan and Rick Danko, numerous entities have covered the song since its release, but I was singing The Band’s classic rendition, released last century. I think The Neurons’ inspiration was the walk to the brewery where we’d sip our beers. Bit smoky, spattering rain through ninety-nine degree heat, I wondered where the smoke originated, speculating about fires. Then the song started. Still remains in my morning mental music stream (Trademark worthy).

Alright, be strong, be informed, and stay positive. Time to rock Thursday so we can move on to Waiting Friday. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

It’s amazing. When he was a kid, he usually had two pairs of shoes, known as his ‘good’ shoes and his play shoes. Good shoes were also known as ‘dress-up’ shoes and ‘nice’ shoes. Play shoes became gym shoes and good shoes became school shoes. Dress shoes were added into the mix.

This trio — gym, or ‘tennis’ shoes, as they grew to be called — school shoes, dress shoes — were the status quo for years. A second pair of school shoes was added, along with cleated shoes for sports.

During his military years, he stayed with the triumvirate of shoes for his personal life. Gym shoes were still tennis shoes (though he didn’t play tennis), along with dress shoes and ‘jeans’ shoes. He began playing racquetball, so racquetball shoes were added to the mix. So were sandals. Then running shoes joined the shoe group. Military requirements dictated three more pairs of shoes: low-quarters (which were a super-shiny version of dress shoes), chukka boots, and combat (or paratrooper) boots. So it mostly stayed for his military career, except slippers were added through Christmas presents, and jungle boots and desert boots were added to fit his mission needs. The three pairs of military footwear were now five, because they’d done away with the chukkas.

Civilian life post military retirement brought on more shoe requirements. Aging helped. And shoe marketing. Now he added beach shoes, boating shoes, hiking shoes, walking shoes, and several pairs of ‘jeans’ shoes, also now called ‘casual’ shoes. There were work shoes, so he looked the role in the ‘business casual’ environment, but the military shoes were gone.

Going into marketing added more shoes to go with suits. Brown, gray, and black shoes were needed. He still had running and hiking shoes, along with walking shoes, jeans shoes, and casual work shoes. He was wearing cargo shorts frequently, and needed shoes to go with those. Moving from a pleasant year round clime to a snowy and wet environment brought up needs for wet weather and cold weather shoes.

Now he’s come to retirement. The suit shoes sit in boxes on shelves, but the rest have become so complex and numerous. He purged his shoes regularly, giving them away. His feet had widened and his feet’s needs had changed through the years, and that dictated changes as well.

Like so many other things, it’d become so very, very complicated. He wished for the days again when he had just two pairs of shoes. Given how life goes, he figured that circle would complete itself when he grew older.

Next: socks.

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Wednesday’s Wandering Thought

A Tiger Swallowtail butterfly landed on a butterfly bush’s long purplish panicle as he approached the plant on his walk. Such a Zen moment, he felt forced to pause for consideration of the scene. Then the butterfly and he moved on, as though neither were ever there, leaving the bush standing alone and patient once again.

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Winceday’s Wandering Thoughts

Things which are always reassuring to see when you’re walking along Ashlandia’s streets:

A FedEx truck running a stop sign with a blast of noise as you approach the corner. A pick up truck and SUV traveling in opposite directions, each driver with their cell plastered to their skull. Another driver wheeling it with one hand while shoving food into her gob as she comes up, braking hard and late as you stand in the crosswalk, waiting for her to notice. A large Acura MDX running a red light and aggressively coming around the corner, going around you as you walk through a cross walk.

Ah, yes, so very reassuring.

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Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

I took a writing break and went for a walk. Gorgeous out there. Unfettered sunshine. 76 degrees F . Fragrances freed from blossoms and flowers surfed a light breeze. Submerging myself into the moment’s ambiance, I strode along.

A turn took me north, toward the far low mountain ridge. Blue sky rested on the peaks, but I drew up. The sky was hazy with dust or smoke.

Returning to my writing nest, I searched the net for wildfires and checked the air quality, worried that the smoke was sneaking in on us from one of them, worried that some conflagration was already growing and racing toward us.

It’s that time of year, you know.

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

We got rock. And coffee. Day is looking good so far.

Spring is holding onto Ashlandia. Up to 54 F now on this Thursday, May 24, 2023, with the weather dregs insisting that the mid to upper 70s is possible today. Well, a blue sky has shown up. Sunshine is plentiful. Wind has stilled and smells less like winter. Maybe we’ll see those temps. Wonderful walking weather or working outside until it’s dark weather.

Still snow up on the crests around us. That doesn’t mean much. Between altitude, latitude, and longitude, they’re in a different micro-clime. Same if you drive up or down the road more than four miles.

I enjoy the long days of sunlight. Looking forward to and not looking forward to summer solstice. Exciting ’bout it because, hey, summer is here! Carries a load of popular memories and high expectations based on who I was and what used to happen in the summer. But as an established adult, summer arrival ushers in the shrinking of the daylight. The reversal begins. Not right away, but the days will grow shorter. Sunset will arrive a little earlier. Sunrise starts poking in a little later. Ah, c’est le vie.

So I have the patio door-rescreened. Everything is cleaned up, re-installed, looking good. I’m pleased. What mesmerizes me are the floof reactions. They cannot simply walk past the new screen and in through the cleaned frame et al. They must stop and in-teeennntttly sniff it all down. Not just once. Several times. The looks on their faces when they do. They become thoughtful. “What is this? What happened to the smells from the previous residents?”

Part of the reason the screen became so torn up and the area a little dirtier than approved is that I’d installed a cat door there. That’s removed now. But with something like the cat door, I had to pause to remember when it was bought and all the felines that graced it with their feet and fur as they passed through. So many different styles. The criminal type, carefully sneaking in, lifting one corner first, peering in, not making a sound. The blasters, charging through like they’re bursting through a defensive line. Oh, and the undecided, entering half way to stop and look around like they’re realizing, that’s not the door to Narnia. A small subset of the tail-placers existed, too, the cat which would enter or leave, but stop just on the other side, leaving their tail in the other side. Such sweeties and lovelies, all, and so missed with their unique personalities.

The Neurons brought up a 1983 song by Simple Minds, “Waterfront”. This was wholly due to Papi the ginger zing. He tapped on the slider for entrance. When he came in, I discovered him soaked. “Is it raining?” I asked. His reply was to sweep against my legs in a full circle, wetting my calves, and then head for a kibble bowl. So I went out to look. No rain. Must’ve been a sprinkler.

But The Neurons were busy by then, singing “Come in, get out of the rain.” The whole course of the song began seconds later and remain full-throated in the morning mental music stream experience. You know, when I first heard this song back in the day, I thought it was a new song from Tears for Fears. It has that beat. Could be right out of “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” to me.

Stay pos and you do you and I’ll do me. Been drinking the coffee, doing me. Off to do other me things now. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

May 13. Saturday. 2023.

The sun rose before me, a little before six AM. Gonna be hot again. 63 F now. Some say it’ll reach 86 F in Ashlandia. Others pronounce 90 will be the temp top. 97 F is in others’ forecasts. All three may actually be right, depending upon which part of the city you’re in. I believe we’ll see 91 in my locale. Hit 82 F yesterday.

Gorgeous out there right now. All green and blue. Mellow mountain breeze is sloping down into the open back doors. The cats come in, come by me for a welfare check and to see if I’m eating or doing anything of interest, and meowder back out.

Yardwork is in my future after the writing session, as the last rain cycle caused weeds to explode in height and density. I’ll cull the dandies a bit but we let them stay. Bees like ’em.

Terrible dream last night. Vivid and intense. Took me about an hour before slumber crawled back in me.

But the day’s song comes from a walk yesterday. Up from the wells of 1969 came “Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man” by the Bob Seger System. Found an interesting video of it being performed by a young and beardless Bob Seger. Never seen him without a beard. I always believed he was born with a beard. The set is fascinating as well. It’s an energetic rendition.

Stay pos and take Saturday like a happy pill. Coffee is tugging my leash so I’m going on. Here’s the beats as heard over fifty years ago. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

The sun bulled its way over the horizon and into Ashlandia’s sky a few ticks before six AM. It’s Tuesday, May 9, 2023, and 45 degrees F out there. Rain deliveries through the past five days have encouraged the town to show off multiple greens. Jade, emerald, pine, leafy, grassy — the greens flourish under the immaculately blue sky. Not promising anything, the weather criers say, but it’ll be in the upper sixties today. The sun’s end time in Ashlandia’s environs will be after eight this evening.

Went walking yesterday, a favorite pastime. Two miles, one and a half of it in steady rain. Lovely. Got home wet with rain and sweat. Lovely. Felt good to be back in the rain and feel the sweat dripping and rolling, plastering my hair under my hat.

I continue scoring on the dream front. Last night brought visits from Sean Penn and Brad Pitt. Woke up chuckling to myself, mumbling, that was a great dream. Then I went through it, writing it all down after I got up, one of three dreams covered in today’s dream journal entry.

The cats are adjusting to the improved weather. So are other cats. Thus there was floof showdown on the front porch. A young gray cat has been showing up around the neighborhood for the last two months. Seems healthy, but just going around doing feline business. They’ve encountered Papi the ginger wonder before, but apparently last night was a surprise for the two and face to face. It’s post event speculation for us. We only know that the floof warnings went off like air-raid sirens for the Battle of Britain. Dashing to the front door, we saw the two. Of course, Tucker, the black and white lord of thunder heard it all and galloped out, too, shouting, “To battle.” Seeing the situation, gray cat departed. Papi pursued but lost the trail. He and Tucker took up stations to ensure they’d be there, should the interloper return.

Today’s music comes from “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel”. We’ve been watching it recently and have plowed into the third season. The song, by the Poppy Family, is “Where Evil Grows” and was put out over fifty years ago. I heard it on the radio a few times back then before it disappeared. But it shows up on television shows and movies once in a while, never on the radio, that I ever hear. Anyway, hearing it enlivened The Neurons, and they plugged it into the morning mental music stream, advertising it as nostalgia. The song’s writer is Terry Jacks, better known for “Which Way You Going, Billy” and “Seasons in the Sun”.

Ah, the train is rolling through, tooting its own horn, ensuring everyone is aware of its royal self as it rumbles through town. Stay pos, keep living the good life and fighting the good fight, wherever it may take you. My efforts are taking me to the coffee. Here’s the tune. Give it a listen. Cheers

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Thursday’s Wandering Thought

He took an afternoon walk up and down the town’s hills. Many interesting sights were seen but what made him think the most was the signs posted at a house of worship: “No Trespassing”. “Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted”. He saw at least four of those two signs on the two side of the church he passed.

He wondered what they worshipped inside.

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Moonday’s Theme Music

I was out walking yesterday afternoon, slow-baking in the sun. My informants told me that the temperature was 51 F. Telling self, “This is nice,” I thought I’d extend the wall. With a magician’s swiftness, clouds blocked the sun. “Damn, it’s cold,” self said. A icy wind knifed through me. Drizzle followed. Three minutes after enjoying a fine, sunny walk, I was heading home out of the drizzle.

This is Monday, Feb. 6 of 2023. It’s a boom sort of day. Initiated early dark hours after rain began shortly after the witching hour, curtailing an hour later. Then – boom – clouds split, and here comes the moon, reflecting powerful white light from the sun. Sweet. Following up at this AM, 7:19, boom, sun kicked shine over the horizons into Ashlandia. While it’s sunny now, 37 F, weather spies tell me it’ll rain later, with a high of 56 F before the Earth turn takes Ashlandia’s sun away.

Yesterday was a good day for moi on many fronts. Wordle in two. As Wordlebot said, that was really lucky. Excellent writing and editing time, knock on wood, an enjoyable walk, followed by a pleasant dinner of fish with roasted red potatoes and broccoli. Dessert was flax chocolate cookies while we watched episode of The Last of Us.

My wife had none of that dinner or dessert. She continues her anti-chronic pain diet. No sugar, no salt, no processed foods. She’s on the section where in addition to certain raw veggies, quinoa, and sweet potatoes, she’s allowed kale, coconut water, buckwheat, and green smoothies. How much longer she’ll continue this is unknown, but she likes how of her RA pains and flares have gone into remission. I make my own meals while she makes her, and I’m careful not to bring in anything that might tempt her. She has strong willpower and discipline. It’s been over a month and she doesn’t show signs of flagging.

The Neurons are singing a song featured as my theme music before, “Cheap Sunglasses” by ZZ Top from 1979. Not sure what enticed The Neurons to begin playing it, but I always enjoy it. Love how the vocalist, Billy Gibbons, enumerates this woman’s features, concluding, “What really knocked me out were her cheap sunglasses.” Oh, yeah.

Stay pos and enjoy the moonday. I’ve had some coffee but I’m up for more. Here’s the music. ZZ Top was always a fun concert. Cheers

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