Center stage was the sun’s at 7:05 AM in Pittsburgh, and she used it to full, rousing effect.
Today is called September 20, 2022. I awoke thinking about dreams and then shifted to news, feeling concerns about all the storms hitting. Japan. Alaska. Puerto Rico. How are things there? Is help on the way. Politics are a little suspended as I wait for pieces of information to be released, and wait for mid-terms. Wait. Read. Listen. Think. Wait.
I feel like I’m on a low boil here in PA as the stout sunshine finds my skin. 19 C again, high of 77 F expected before the sun’s curtain falls at 7:21 PM. Clouds lurk and plot, meeting and muttering with one another, but the sun owns the stage in my zone.
Since it’s Tuesday, The Neurons have planted “Tuesday’s Gone” by Lynyrd Skynyrd in the morning mental music stream. First heard it when it was released in 1973 and I was a high school junior at Shady Spring High School. The song strikes deep chords in me, sealing another longing fit for what was and what never came to be. ‘Tis always been that way.
So, you know, have some coffee and enjoy Tuesday before it’s gone. Stay pos, test neg. Cheers
Monday’s dawn struggled to win over night. Reinforced by a packed sky of stern clouds, light was minimized. I looked at my watch. What time is it? Where is the sunshine?
It’s September 19, 2022. A downpour soon drowned out the day. Thunder’s drum line punctuated the mood. Traffic snarls complicated by wet roads inundated the radio news.
I went onto a covered porch and consumed several lungfuls of rain-enriched air, savoring scents of wet dirt, leaves, and trees, which sounds a little disgusting as I write it, but if you’ve had it, you know it. Our temperature? 19 C, so t’aint bad. Their suggested high of 78 F raises my eyebrows.
In other news, I hear that Queen Elizabeth II died. Little facetious. It’s a matter of history and it’s being given sprawling coverage. She was Queen my entire life to this point, an American’s anchor in Europe. I enjoyed many of the stories about her. I understand, a little, the pro and con arguments of having royalty in a country. It’s their nation, their decision, although I understand some disagree with that in Australia. As with many matters when you’re outside of a situation and seeking understanding, it’s complicated.
The Neurons have again selected a weird song for the morning mental music stream. Ozzy — need I give a last name — I’ll clarify that Harriet wasn’t present — is singing “Shot in the Dark” from 1986. For a long period, I believed Ozzy wrote it, only to discover as legal issues about the song arose that this was written and performed by others first. “Why this song?” I query The Neurons. “Are you trying to tell me something?” My cats are more forthcoming than The Neurons. I hear only snickers in reply.
Stay positive, and test negative. Having gone through a mild case of COVID, I don’t believe you want to enjoy it for yourself. Just made fresh coffee. Care to partake? Mind if I do?
You ever leaped out of bed and remember that you’re not at home and this isn’t your bed, so there’s a piece of furniture blocking your landing, remembering all of this midway through what was planned to be a burst of energy to start the day?
Yeah, me, neither.
But did you ever get out of bed full of spirit and rushed outside to check the weather and took a deep breath and asked, “Hello, world, what is that smell?”
The smell reminds me of a giant being cremated. To my knowledge of the area, there aren’t any crematoriums around but there could be, because I haven’t been here in a while. Maybe someone saw an available vacant lot and realized their dream of building their own crematorium. I don’t believe there are any giants in the area. Could be that there are and I missed the news. We’re living in strange times, as many people have said before me. I’ll conduct a net search for giants of Pittsburgh later, if I remember.
Birds are lustily giving voice in Mom’s yard on this Sunday morning. One keeps singing, jewka, jewka, jewka, chew. (Kind of reminds me of a Steppenwolf song, “Sookie, Sookie” from 1969.) I don’t know what kind of bird it is. I’ll google it later, if I remember. There are sparrows urgently flying around. All of this could have to do with the giant being cremated, I guess.
It is September 18, 2022, and the sun rose over three hours ago. That means about another nine hours of daylight are available. Leaves are falling like they do in some places that mutter, “Oh, time for autumn. Let the leafing begin.” Then a button is pressed and the trees start with a little surprise at being goosed because they’ve just been sunning themselves and enjoying life. Once they understand the goosing, they get with the situation, drop leaves and start changing their colors.
Mom was in great spirits last night. I visited her telephonically in the evening, because my COVID. (Much better, thanks.) They’re moving her to another place this week so she can rehab for a return to the outside world. She and I talked about her wishes should she go on. You know, pass. Die. She wants cremated. We talked about what music to play at her celebration and she said we should start with “Amazing Grace”, which she believes is a beautiful song. I agree with her. Neither of us think she’s going anywhere soon. We could be wrong. She scared me two weeks ago, and we often don’t have death tell us, “Heads up” before the final breath is taken.
Because it’s September and leaves are falling through the sixtyish weather under a charcoal-sketched sky, The Neurons have brought up, “Wake Me Up When September Ends”. Billy Joe Armstrong of Green Day wrote the song. The band released it in 2005.
Stay posi and test negy. Have coffee or whatever works for you, within reasonable parameters. Don’t want to get into the mess of defining that. What’s reasonable to one —
Well, anyway. I’m pouring coffee now. Enjoy your Sunday. Here’s the video. Go Steelers.
Sunrise in Pittsburgh on Saturday, September 17, 2022, brought diffused yellow light to the steel city. 7:02 AM, it would take time to heat the chilly air. Summer was heading south for the winter. Fall was making its move.
Now at ten AM, heat has stirred the thermometer to 16 C. 81 F is where the air temp is expected to go before the sun’s impact shuts down at 7:28 PM.
Staying in Mom’s home, where she’s resided for over thirty years, I’m struck by both change and stasis, again. Some things about the house are so familiar and have been as they always were. That’s not in the architecture or layout but in the details of décor and organization. Mom’s authority and control is seen in every niche and nook. She decides all. This allows me to visit as if I’ve always been here. Just remember her habits and how she organizes, and everything can be found. Probably true for most people, especially when they’ve inhabited a space for so long, but I feel it more deeply with this place of Mom’s. Of course, it’s absolutely clean – cleaning is her therapy as writing is mine – she has told me that she loves to clean, because I thought it something imposed on her, but no, she says, no – and also inside that organized structure is bizarre chaos. Wild how the two co-exist.
Thought of change prods The Neurons to resurrect a favorite song in the morning mental music stream. “A Change Is Gonna Come” by Sam Cooke came out in 1964, when I was eight. It’s been part of existence’s fabric for almost my entire life, and it has always spoken to me. I’m not alone in this; Sam plugged into something special when he created this song. For today, though, I’m going with a Beth Hart version. She infuses it with that same strength of belief and sincerity that I hear in Sam’s voice. Hope you hear it, too. In some ways, she reminds me of Janis Joplin with this song.
Stay positive and test negative. Here’s the music. I’m off for a second cup of coffee. I’ll go out on the porch into the sunshine-warmed breeze to enjoy it. Enjoy the world in the best way you can. Cheers
I was surprised to discover today is Friday. It’s also September 16, 2022. The month is storming through. It’ll soon be another memory, haphazardly stacked alongside my other memories. “Do you remember…?” The question begins the conversation. I hear it reverberating from the future. “Do you remember?” A little mental scratching follows. Pieces are put together and then answer comes, “Yes, I remember.” Then each contributes details. Whether it’s all accurate or real, well, that’s for another philosopher to address.
Sunrise’s stealthy crawl began at 7:01 AM. Temperatures continue along a short spectrum of low sixties to mid-seventies. Pittsburgh’s sunset will be at 7:31. The daily slice of sunshine gets shaved a little more every day.
I spent thirty minutes outside today, on the porch in sunshine, drinking coffee. Wonderful to have a full and warm sun as a companion. My body drank in that vitamin D. While out there, I reflected that my mental image of myself remains as a man thirty years younger, or more. I wondered, do our self-images get created and captured when we first visit a place? Is that how we’ll always see ourselves in conjunction with a specific place?
I remember once when I was sixteen, with Dad, shoe shopping. Dad was flirting with a young female sales assistant. It seemed clear to me the woman was embarrassed. I found it all cringeworthy. But Dad didn’t see and hear himself as we saw him that day. Reality is such a tasty and beautiful variable, isn’t it?
For music, “A Horse With No Name” by Americ in the morning mental music stream. I started singing it to myself, shifting lyrics to, “It felt good to be out in the sun.” I took it past there but you don’t need those deets. Make up your own.
Stay positive and test negative, and do what you can with the day. As the floofs say, carpe diem. Lunch is calling, I think. Here’s the music. Cheers
Thursday, September 15, 2022, dawned at 7:00 AM with variable results. Chaotic cumulus clouds mixed with sunshine and blue sky to create a sullen envelope for the day. 17.7 C now, 76 F will be today’s peak temperature. 7:31 PM will see sunset take place.
I’m busy with a personal project, building a mountain of used tissues and cough drops. I’m very proud of my accomplishment. It’s not a bad way to deal with COVID compared to others’ suffering.
Haven’t seen Mom due to my sit. Her abscess was drained and she’s being moved from the step down unit to a normal private room. She’ll remain in isolation.
The Neurons plugged “Open Arms” by Journey (1982) into the morning mental music stream. Drifting in and out of sleep in the dark room last night, I’d listen to my heartbeat. The Neurons picked up on that and began playing with songs which had heartbeat or darkness as part of the lyrics. Yeah, The Neurons are a crazy beast. The song was released while I was stationed at Kadena, Okinawa, Japan, so it’s attached to that era in my thinking. This is one of those songs that forces memories of our small off-base apartment to my mind’s forefront. I remember the cats who came to us then and lived with us. We took them back to America with us, and then was forced to leave them there when we went to Japan. My SIL took care of them for us. But once we returned, we took them with us to California. Both passed away there, Crystal, a Bombay black was twelve, while Jade was 21.
Stay positive and test negative. No coffee, thanks, I’ve already had a cup. Mark me down for another cup later. Here’s the song. Cheers
Riding the COVID train. Slept well, fever broke, coughing is mild and infrequent. Day three of symptoms, but just tested yesterday. Other family members have tested pos or are feeling ill. Haven’t done tracing but I suspect a Sunday family gathering.
Meanwhile, though, Mom is getting better. She’d developed an abscess along her lumbar spine. They were draining that today. Holding off on pacemaker work. She had a bowel movement yesterday, first in a week, and she told me she felt so much better after that. Will be in hospital for several more weeks, pending the ebb and flow.
Today is Wednesday, September 14, 2022, a day which will live in infamy, maybe. Depends on what happens on this day in your life, yeah? Sunset is 7:31 PM and sunrise took place twelve hours and thirty-one minutes before that. It’s 73 F out there and the high is supposed to be 76 F. It’s mostly sunny out there.
Okay, so The Neurons have planted “Train Kept A-Rollin'” in my morning mental music stream. The ’74 version by Aerosmith is playing. A heavy blues rock cover, it’s the first version I ever knew. I think The Neurons are making some oblique snarky reference to either being sick, or how COVID keeps striking.
Well, stay positive. Test negative. Haven’t had coffee today. Don’t think I will. Have a good one. Here’s the tune. Hope you enjoy it. Cheers
Riding the COVID train. Slept well, fever broke, coughing is mild and infrequent. Day three of symptoms, but just tested yesterday. Other family members have tested pos or are feeling ill. Haven’t done tracing but I suspect a Sunday family gathering.
Meanwhile, though, Mom is getting better. She’d developed an abscess along her lumbar spine. They were draining that today. Holding off on pacemaker work. She had a bowel movement yesterday, first in a week, and she told me she felt so much better after that. Will be in hospital for several more weeks, pending the ebb and flow.
Today is Wednesday, September 14, 2022, a day which will live in infamy, maybe. Depends on what happens on this day in your life, yeah? Sunset is 7:31 PM and sunrise took place twelve hours and thirty-one minutes before that. It’s 73 F out there and the high is supposed to be 76 F. It’s mostly sunny out there.
Okay, so The Neurons have planted “Train Kept A-Rollin'” in my morning mental music stream. The ’74 version by Aerosmith is playing. A heavy blues rock cover, it’s the first version I ever knew. I think The Neurons are making some oblique snarky reference to either being sick, or how COVID keeps striking.
Well, stay positive. Test negative. Haven’t had coffee today. Don’t think I will. Have a good one. Here’s the tune. Hope you enjoy it. Cheers
Sunshine, glorious sunshine. It’s going in and out. That’s how I define it from my kitchen perch. Can’t see the actual sky but I suspect the sun is constant but the clouds are moving about.
Still in Pittsburgh, PA, due to Mom’s medical emergency. She’s doing better, thanks, but remains hospitalized with multiple issues. At least she’s talking and eating, and showing strong streaks of her usual personality. My sisters and Mom’s partner provide the most guidance and support. I’m just here to do what I can when I can. Oldest sister also came in but leaves tomorrow AM.
This visit refreshes how much I enjoy the PIT area. Trees put off blinding green. No smoke although there is pollution. Humidity feels mad high, toying my hair into lofty frizziness. Makes me laugh. Great fun visiting with sisters and their families yesterday, eating pizza, drinking beer, watching the crazy Steelers-Bengals game and eventual, surprising Steeler victory. You should have heard that house as each major event occurred. Even though traffic is traffic, it has a structure to its chaos that’s familiar.
Back home in southern Oregon, the news tells me more wildfires are burning. The air is bad, but the temperature has dropped. Here, it’s 73 F with a forecast high of 76 and scattered rain showers. The sun brought its show online at 6:58 AM and will go offline at 7:34 PM. The high here is still ten degrees less than what Ashland will see.
For some reason, The Neurons have fixed Joan Jett and the Blackhearts in my morning mental music stream and their cover, “I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll”, circa ’81-82. A covert connection seems to exist with me visiting here before leaving for Okinawa. I’m just guessing. The Neurons will not say.
Still on my first cup of coffee and coming alive again. Stay positive, test negative, etc. Finish this coffee, go see Mom in the hospital. Stay chill, peeps. Here’s the tune. Cheers
Pittsburgh is tucked into a light gray blanket this morning. Sunrise was at 6:57 AM but the sun is taking it easy behind the clouds. Sunset is anticipated at 7:36 this evening.
It’s September 11, 2022, in America.
Muggy 20 degrees C weather lays on me. The air is fine, a green 18 according to Purple Air. No smoke. Deer strolled across the lawn, mama, two yearlings, and a fawn. Mama eyed me like, “Who are you? I don’t know your smell.” The rest nibbled and chewed.
As I left the hospital yesterday, I heard someone tell another in the parking lot, “Don’t let the world bring you down.” The Neurons nibbled on that overnight and then brought Soundgarden and “Blow Up the Outside World” (1996) into the morning mental music stream. It’s a little harsh for a quiet Sunday morning, I told them. They didn’t care. The Neurons follow their own paths.
Stay positive and test negative. Hope you find joy and satisfaction in this day. Yes, I’ve had coffee, thanks. Had to help overcome the three-hour shift from my normal times. Here’s the music. Off to visit Mom in the hospital. She’s doing much better, thanks, but danger remains. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 