What A Dream

To begin, I’ve parked my car on a road by a small, rocky but sandy beach. Others are there. Someone says, “Look.” They’re pointing.

I turn and look. A large whale is being washed up onto the shore. A man is down there trying to wrestle it into place, an impossible idea. But past that, huge waves are rising and rushing toward us.

I say, “Oh my god, look at those waves.”

The first guy says, “That’s what I was talking about.”

I reply, “Run,” and start running along the beach.

Enormous waves crash behind us. Water is swirling back there. We’ve escaped. We’re on the move and still in danger. I’m with two others, males. They’re friends and younger. “We gotta go,” I say. “We need to get away from here.”

We find a rusted and repainted (gray and white) panel van. I start it and drive away. We drive and drive through the night. The van has a bench seat and no rear seats. It’s empty. The gas gauge is broken. We’re driving parallel to the ocean. Huge waves are crashing. The sea is rising. We need to go until we can turn inland.

I feel like we need gas. Finding a station open, we stop. I have forty dollars. That’s all the money between us. We’re hungry. But — I have a credit card. I talk to the attendant. I’m surprised but relieved he was open. Yes, but not for much longer, he tells me. We’re probably his last customers. I ask if I can pay with a credit card. Yes, he replies, leading me to another man. He’ll take care of us.

We eat and buy supplies, paying with gas. We’re exhausted. We talk about sleeping in the back of the van. Then, I have an idea: let’s go back in time so we can warn people. My friends like that, so that’s what we do.

We arrive at an air force base. I’m in uniform. One of the guys wants to attend a service. He’d died before; this service was for him. He wanted a chance to say good-bye to himself.

So we agree to wait for him while this happens. As I’m standing there, a U.S. flag is ceremoniously folded and handed it to me. I accept it with proper protocol and then give it to another. That was my part.

We go into a briefing room. It’s more like a theater. An officer friend is briefing about a weapon failure. I know what happened because it’d already happened. I push to the front and tell them what happened and convince them that I know the future because I came back from them. I warn them about the growing storm and the need to take action.

The dream ends.

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Out yard working yesterday, tidying, clipping, trimming (killing time). I kept thinking, it feels like rain. More than that, it looked like rain might be on the way, and it smelled like rain was out there. It was out there somewhere, but not in my area. The rain never came but a Buddy Guy song (written by John Hiatt), “Feels Like Rain” (with Bonnie Raitt) 1993, slipped into the music stream like morning fog coming into the valley.

A simple, mellow song for this laid-back Tuesday morning. Good tempo for sipping coffee while gazing out the window and drifting the net.

The Edge

Smiling as he raised the blinds, he gazed up at the sunshine. “Alexa, what’s today’s weather?”

“Right now in Eugene, it’s fifty-eight degrees with mostly sunny skies. Expect more of the same throughout the day, with a high of sixty-eight, and a low of thirty-seven. Enjoy your day.”

A heartbeat of sadness passed. He’d been hoping that she would say his name, as she’d been doing once in a while the last few days. Like yesterday, she said, “Have a great Sunday, Richard.”

That little bit had meant so much, more than it probably should, but it was the little things that kept him back from the edge during these days of isolation, and the edge seemed just a little too close today.

“Alexa,” he said in a softer voice, “how’s our weather today?”

He waited, hopeful for the answer.

Sunday’s Theme Music

After watching people walking up the street this morning (teens, no social distancing or masks, quite oblivious to what’s happening in the world it seems) from the shelter of my home office, I streamed “Gimme Shelter” by the Stones in my head. Next, “Shelter Me” by Joe Cocker bubbled through the stream.

But then then young ones drifted away like dandelion seeds in the wind. Absence their chattering, I instead took in blue skies and sunshine, the ever-greening world, and the promise of another day.  With that, “Everyday Sunshine” by Fishbone jumped into my head. I seems like I haven’t heard that song for years, maybe since it came out in 1991. As it’s considered alt-rock, I don’t think it ever got the play time that it deserved, but it’s a lively, upbeat melody.

With a h/t to Metrolyrics.com, here are some of the lyrics.

I wish everyday the sun would shine
Take me to another place in my mind
Where everything is beautiful
And no wants or needs
Nor sign of greed
Could rule our soul

How I wish everyday sunshine
How I wish everyday sunshine

If we could fly away on wings
To a place where all could be true
And the skies were blue
And love was true
And me and you

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Writing and the coronavirus mated, spurting today’s song into the stream.

I was writing about a queen. On break, I slipped into the backyard. Standing on the covered back patio, ginger cat wrapping around my calf like furry python, I listened to soft rain and admired pink and white blossoms on trees.

Lyrics arrive.

And I said mama, mama, mama, why am I so alone
I can’t go outside
I’m scared I might not make it home
I’m alive, I’m alive
But I’m sinking in
If there’s anyone at home at your place, darling
Why don’t you invite me in?
Don’t try to bleed me
I’ve been there before
And I deserve a little more

h/t to AZLyrics.com

The lyrics continued on autopilot while part of me sorted memory, coming up with Counting Crows, and then “Rain King” (1994).

Saturday’s Theme Music

It was three in the morning, and it was raining, and I was addressing something to do with cats. In that situation, everyone will naturally recall the words to “3AM” by Matchbox Twenty (1997).

I was telling the cat (being an irritant by blocking the pet door) (and looking smug about it) that he was a major irritation, and then told another cat, “It’s three AM and it’s raining, and it’s cold. Are you sure that you want to go out there?” Yes, yes, he had an urgent matter. I let him out, went to bed, tried to recover my dreams, but instead looped “3AM” in my head.

She said, “It’s cold outside” and she hands me a raincoat
She’s always worried about things like that
She said, “It’s all gonna end and it might as well be my fault”

[Refrain]
And she only sleeps when it`s raining
And she screams, and her voice is straining

[Chorus]
And she says, “Baby, it’s three AM, I must be lonely”
And she says, “Baby, well, I can’t help
But be scared of it all sometimes
And the rain’s gonna wash away, I believe this”

[Verse 2]
She’s got a little bit of something, God, it’s better than nothing
And in her color portrait world she believes that she’s got it all
She swears that the moon don’t hang quite as high as it used to

[Refrain]
And she only sleeps when it’s raining
And she screams and her voice is straining

[Chorus]
And she says, “Baby, when it’s three AM I must be lonely”
Well, heaven she says, “Baby, well, I can’t help
But be scared of it all sometimes
And the rain’s gonna wash away, I believe this”

h/t to Genius.com

P.S. The cat was back in a few minutes, trying to get in, but some smug boogerfloof was blocking the door.

Wednesday’s Theme Music

I was ’bout to go outside (and let a cat out) (it’s Boo’s morning habit to go out, do his business in a corner of the yard (the far left side behind the bushes, thank you), and then groom in sunshine) (unless it’s raining or snowing, of course) to gauge the weather (it looks pleasant and warm) when I stopped. Hand on door handle, I watched through the glass at a profusion of birds. The many birds me from opening the door and disrupting the little sparrows’ and jays entertainment.

Boo really wanted out, chittering and chattering at the birds (they were a joyfully noisy congregation). I wondered what’d brought them here.

The juxtaposition of birds and weather reminded me of an instrumental song, “Birdland” by Weather Underground (1977). I used to listen to this in the Philippines while burning candles, reading books, and sipping wine, a pleasure combo.

After the birds abruptly departed, I let the house panther (and jigsaw puzzle expert) out to do his thang, and then came in and re-acquainted myself with “Birdland”. That song always prompts a grin. Hope you hear it and grin, too.

Or at least, smile.

Tuesday’s Theme Music

My mental iPod shuffle (completely wireless) played many songs today, starting with some Pink Floyd and Boston. Much of this was provoked by reading others’ posts, including one about the song, “King of the Run” by Roger Miller. I once dressed up as a hobo (I don’t think it was for Halloween), and using a candy cigarette, imitated Roger Miller doing his song (yeah, I’d seen it on television). After some Carly Simon and Jewel, I stepped outside and began walking.

That changed the stream. As I breathed the air, more Pink Floyd popped in, but the stream finally settled on U2, “Beautiful Day” (2000). So here we are.

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