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”
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.
Floofclone
Floofclone (floofinition) – 1. Micro-weather event of great wind and noise caused by an animal, often a dog or cat tearing around a house.
In use: “Whatever the trigger, once a day, Rebel (who was otherwise a sweet and goofy (but very smart) German Shepherd) leaped up and caused a floofclone, expending energy until fur was flying everywhere, and then collapsing with a grin.”
2. Animals who resemble one another.
In use: “The gray cat had but two white pieces, which made a white handlebar mustache on her sweet face. Everyone thought Pearl was unique until her floofclone, Spike (a street rescue), showed up.”
3. A person who resembles an animal.
In use: “He was a quiet and reserved man, long-limbed, a floofclone with feline cheeks and eyes. It made her wonder if he had a tail.”
Friday’s Theme Song
Walking in the cold, cloudy day yesterday, I thought of sunshine. I believed that I’d been promised some sunshine. Had I missed it?
The drizzle had stepped and the fog slipped off its coat, but low clouds still obscured our landscape. It offered its own beauty but it fell short when you’ve been promised sunshine. Tomorrow, I thought.
Meanwhile, my mind walked through sunshine songs. Katrinn and the Waves, Bill Withers, Cream, the Beatles, the Doors, Weezer, Soundgarden, and the Kinks all offered something, along with the Violent Femmes, Fifth Dimension, and Lovin’ Spoonful. Nothing caught the day’s mood.
Today, I came out and opened the blinds to sunshine. Yes, my heart sang. Before the first chorus ended, a mean, snickering cloud slipped over the sun and blotted out its efforts. No fair, my heart cried.
Songs about heart (and by Heart) poured into the stream, but Pat Benatar ruled with “Heartbreaker” (1979) took over.
Two sets of lines dominated from “Heartbreaker”. The first is that angry and defiant, “No, no, no!” Yes, there was today, no accepting. Second is the classic set, “You’re a heartbreaker, dream maker, love taker, don’t you mess around with me.” Plus, there’s all that thundering, driving guitar, crisp drums, and Benatar’s voice.
Yes, it’s the theme for today. As a bonus, Pat and her band have some nascent 1980s big hair on display. Gotta love it.
Thursday’s Theme Music
Today’s is an odd song choice, driven by weather and reverie.
Opening the blinds this morning revealed a pearl gray cold world, fog and drizzle that hid the streets and played peek-a-boo with the mountains and forests.
Although dismaying, the weather captured my inner weariness. Not much to do in our little town, and gets boring. Although I then thought of “Ramble On” by Zeppelin, “Life In A Northern Town” by the Dream Adademy (1985) soon asserted its presence in my stream.
It’s an odd song to me, not my preferred listening genre, a song I know mostly from being in a car or store and hearing it. After seeing their video and its cold fog, I thought it was right for the day.
Sunday’s Theme Music
“Sunday morning, rain is falling.”
Well, it had been falling. It’s stopped but clouds shroud the mountains and teases the sun with promises of more light rain.
That’s part of what brought Maroon 5’s song, “Sunday Morning”, to me. I never think of this as a Maroon 5 song. The mellow, mildly jazz tune reminds me not of all of them, but more like something out of Stevie Wonder’s catalog. But, here we are.
Saturday’s Theme Music
Thinking about disasters as I was walking yesterday. Australia is struggling to catch a break this year, going from bushfires to rain to flooding. Indonesia continues having a tough time, quakes in Puerto Rico, and flooding in Chicago.
Then there’s the snow. A winter storm passed through here, giving us a couple inches. Trudging through the aftermath, we’re grateful because it helps the snowbanks, an important source of summer water, even while many mildly rue and curse the snow. Come on, it’s snow, and disrupts our easy ways and pleasantries with its cold intrusion.
It’s impressive how tiny flakes can add up. Our flakes went from normal or average sized to supersized flakes, back to normal before dropping into tiny. All still added up.
These thoughts took me to a Kate Bush 2011 song, “50 Words for Snow”. I enjoy her but I’m mostly aware of this song because Stephen Fry is the one giving the words. Fry delivers them like he’s tasting the expressions. Then Kate goes on with a chorus, “Come on, man,” telling him how many more words he has to go. I don’t hear this song often, originally hearing it by chance on NPR (“Is that Stephen Fry?”) but have since listened to it on the ‘puter, trying to understand all the words for snow. I find it satisfying and contemplative.
Like snow.
Michael Seidel, writer 