First came a blind cane tapping, tentative, sporadic, all over. Rain.
Studying the morass of oncoming darkening clouds, I stepped out and waited. Rain drops pecked my cheek, patted my hair, skipped off my arm. I waited.
A wind rushed through the trees like an animal unleashed back to the wilderness and scurried past me. The storm cleared the high distant hills with a ragged announcement of thunder. I waited.
More urgent drops approached They were serious about maintaining a constant dispersal rate and issued warning I was going to get wet. I waited.
The full regiment of rain galloped toward me. Thunder burst loose of its binds. Lightning ripped across the clouds. More thunder chased it with heavy energy. And the rain and wind came with a howling spirit, striking my clothes and skin, posting goosebumps on my flesh.
Now it’s day. May 5, 2024. Rain. 56 F. Sea of clouds. High in the low sixties. A week until Mother’s Day. Jostling about what to do for Mom for Mom’s Day will begin this week.
Mom is doing well. Energy levels seem up. I had to harangue her to do her physical therapy exercises yesterday. Following her obsessive compulsive behavior, she wanted to clean. The day before, it was to clean the kitchen. Yesterday, it was vacuum. I took that over from her after failing to talk her out of it. Wonder what cleaning she’ll insist on today. Bet it’s the laundry. The entire time she’s doing these cleaning tasks, she complains about her back pain and cries out in pain, talks about how hot and tired she feels, and how she needs to sit down. Yet she cleans on. It’s a lifetime of habit and conditioning driving her. Hard to break that.
Little sister L is scheduled to visit. She’s bringing over vegetable soup. It’s good vegetable soup weather. I am looking forward to it.
Meanwhile, I went to little sister G’s house last night, visiting with her gang. Had dinner of turkey meat loaf with mashed potatoes and roasted carrots with onions. All so delicious. Dessert was then bakery three berry pie, also excellent. Her hubby bought some excellent beer and I two of those. We watched the Derby, an exciting race with a surprising outcome.
The Neurons loaded “All I Need Is A Miracle” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark dizzying). The Mike +The Mechanics song was released in 1986 and was from another CD that saw a lot of play as I drove around the southeastern U.S. on military assignments.
I am absolutely certain that a dream inspired The Neurons’ offering to the stream. One of the dream’s acts included meeting a woman who was really attractive to me. But I’m married, as she was, and I didn’t want to indulge in affairs. But noticing my interest in her, she decided to come after me. Flattered, I remained true to my fidelity and rejected her. This went back and forth throughout the dream. She eventually told me that all she needs is a miracle. And there we are.
As for the song, it’s classic 1980s techno-rock, with that beat, bass line, and keyboards. Harbors lots of memories and good times for moi, as we said in those days.
Stay positive and strong, be sharp and ready, and Vote Blue in 2024. I’m at the coffee shop and we’ve had sip off. Here’s the video. Cheers
I’m ensconced in Penn Hills, PA, an eastern suburb of Pittsburgh, visiting family. A light rain is scenting the 64 F air with petrichor. Temp should peak at 67 F.
Weirdly, the weather seems ‘right’ to me. I emerged from my cocoon in this area and first spread my wings. Lived with Mom and grandparents when I was a child not going to school, moved away in conjunction with Dad’s military service, then returned here. Attended school in several small burghs for second grade through my high school sophomore year. Since Mom and a buncha extended family live here, I’ve been returning again and again on my own cycadean rhythm.
Tragically, Mom only serves decaf. She and her man only drink decaf. So, they make a big pot of coffee. Once it’s done brewing, they draw from it for days and doctor it with cream and nuke it in the microwave. Gag gag gag.
So I slipped away for coffee and writing, heading for a Starbucks. That works for Mother and I and the general household, since Mom and her BF sleep in late these days. She said she doesn’t emerge from her nocturnal seclusion until almost noon. Then her BF, already dressed, ensures she’s set up for the afternoon, and goes out on his errands. His first stop is the gym, where this former boxer, now in his early nineties, works out.
The Starbucks was chosen because it’s where my niece and her boyfriend work. Both are college grads with bachelor’s degrees. Her’s is in business administration. She speaks several languages and plays the violin and is still attending college, going into software and database administration.
So guess who served me? Yes, she looked up with widening eyes when I said, “Morning, Amy.” I hope to have more of a visit with her than that, of course.
Amy and I have a running joke from when she was a child. There’s a movie called The Mothman Prophecies which came out in 2002. It’s about a bridge collapse in Weirton, WV, and a mothman warning it was gonna happy. A brother-in-law (not Amy’s father) saw the movie while traveling in West Virginia. It freaked him out because after watching the movie, his hotel room phone began ringing, just like in the movie. He and I and Amy talked about it in subsequent years. I began calling her Mothgirl. She dubbed me Mothman.
Today’s music arrives via a conversation about me living on the west coast. Everyone hearing hat immediately asks, “California?” No, I’m from the Pacific Northwest, Oregon, to add more precision, Ashlandia, to get granular. But the California suggestions kicked The Neurons into filling the morning mental music stream (Trademark with “Californication”. The Red Hot Chili Peppers released the song in 1999. I immediately took to it. It’s a drool commentary about how Hollywood sells California as the place to be. Several little plays on pop culture are woven into the song.
On to the day. Stay strong, be positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music video. Cheers from Pennsylvania.
My computer said, “Looks like you’re in Penn Hills, PA.”
I replied, “What ’bout it? You trying to start something?”
“No,” the machine said, “just asking, you know, you want the local time and weather?”
Yes, I’m at Mom’s house in Penn Hills, back to help out as I can. I went out to get fresh morning air at 9 AM. Humid, warm air slapped my face. I’m dribbling sweat from my pits. I’s 73 F with a high of 84 F coming up. Light rain is expected at 5 PM. The Neurons are like, what is this stuff, humidity?
A stranger in a strange land vibe flucuates. Mom and Frank are the same as ever but gravity is apparently stronger here. They move more slowly, even sluggishly. I’m noticed the same gravity effect on myself; steps I used to quasi-bound up — couldn’t do too much bounding, with their steep rake, narrow confines, and small tread — are carefully navigated. Humidity and gravity. I never expected them to betray me.
My visit is open-ended but I think it’s on a short leash. I want to give my sisters and Mom’s boyfriend a little break from having to do everything for Mom.
Yesterday was a travel day. Left the house at 11 AM and arrived at Mom’s place at midnight. Two flights. Both United. One of the two was on-time for a 50% rate. Not bad? I had to scramble between flights in Denver as the next flight was already boarding. It seemed like over half the people on my United Boeing 737 flight rowed were in the same straits. We rushed out of the jetway like ants scrambling from an anthill under duress.
I’m in the kitchen, sipping coffee, listening to the upstairs sounds drift back down to me as they awake and dress to meet the day. I let them sleep in. I know how good sleep can feel.
With that background, The Neurons fed Dire Straits, “Sultans of Swing”, into the morning mental music stream. Released in the U.S. in 1979, this was the one which first made folks like me ask, “Who are these guys?” Since its release, I’ve grown fond of Mark Knopfler’s many talents. This puts it all on display.
Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. As noted, I went onto the coffee car already and got my caffeinated assist. Here we go.
Rain is falling on Thursday’s windows. It’s May 2, 2024.
You’d think that the falling rain would have The Neurons loading the morning mental music stream (Trademark washed away) with rainy songs. But that’s not the case. Another song dominates the mental music stream.
It wasn’t dreams. Had several which I can recall. They were surprisingly spirited, positive dreams and don’t seem to have anything to do with The Neurons’ song choice.
Nor are the cats inspiring the song, as far as I can discern. They’ren napping, recovering from eating breakfast. Playing twenty questions with The Neurons, I try to unearth their reasoning. They’re as cooperative as a witness pleading the fifth.
Meanwhile, it’s another wet and chilly spring day. 49 F, our high will be 53 F. Zing. Better than tornados.
Okay, here’s today’s music, “All Day and All of the Night” by the Kinks from 1964. I was eight, so I must’ve picked it up later. Probably about the time when “Lola” came out, in 1970.
Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has been done up. Here we go. Cheers
We started this day in Ashlandia, Wednesday, May 1, 2024, at 36 F. Chilly, baby. No clouds besmirched the blue sky. Sunshine stormed in at dawn. Asserting itself like a new young bull, the sunshine and front pushed the temperature up to 53 F. It’s still climbing with an expected final stop at 67 F.
The cats can’t wait until it gets that warm. Both stayed out for a testing period in the early hours but galloped to the house when I opened the door and offered sanctuary. Tucker and Papi are now napping like the house cats they are.
Yeah, my mood is oneofhosekindofdaysic. All first world blues junk. Fitbit crashing itself, losing two days of data. GASP! Stop the presses. Slow-loading pages. Connectivity matters at the coffee shop. OH NO, it’s the end of the world. Little matters like that which chip away at your spirit like water dripping on stone. It’s such a cruel world. How can I possibly enjoy my scone and coffee under these conditions? Yes, that’s 24 karat snark.
Reading news restores some semblance of balance. People killed in tornados and storms. I can’t deter my brain from imagining what their death must have seemed like. The noise and power of the storm followed by some manner of incident which causes their demise. Seems like a lonely and terrifying way to die. Of course, hearing incoming missiles or artillery shells also seems terrifying. Is it worse when a blow just comes with little sound and warning? What about being a child in a school listening to one your classmates picking off your peers as they walk the halls with a semiautomatic weapon? That also seems like it would generate all-consuming terror.
One of my nephews experienced his 18th birthday recently so I was thinking about him. Naturally, The Neurons conjured Alice Cooper to the morning mental music stream (Trademark simmering) with “I’m Eighteen” from 1971. The song came out three years before my eighteenth natal day, so I had a ready-made theme song for the day.
I pondered the differences between what I was like and my life, and my young nephew. A straightforward comparison is hard to generate. Our social mediate in those days was passing notes and writing letters. Information was just beginning to emerge beyond AM/FM radio and the big three national television networks.
But I think both ages embody a sense of chaos and challenges. I think that’s so for every generation, no matter the era. We face the same issues of finding our nature and going forward as adults.
He, from my vantage, is an intelligent, poised, and talented individual. My sis, his Mum, is proud of him, and so am I. I look forward to seeing him soon. I hope he votes this year and casts a blue ballot.
Okay, I’ve boarded the coffee train. Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the rock video. Stay chill. Cheers
I remain on the carousel, counting days up and counting days down. So many days left in the year, so many days left till the election, the trials, the starts and ends.
I’m sitting on Tuesday, April 30, 2024. A mass of clouds, gray and big as an elephant herd, is sitting on our valley. The thermometer is sitting on 46 F. Sunshine comes and goes as clouds coalesce, shrink, and move on. We will reach 57, the weather folks declare.
“Totally unacceptable,” Papi declares, going out, and then returning. How can he do his rounds and ensure the yard is safe under these conditions? Tucker, older and wiser, eats, washes, shrugs off the weather, and joins us in the office. He settles into his bed and is so slumbering.
With Tucker’s health improving, he’s gained weight and energy. He’s also rediscovered his singing voice. He was a mezzafloofprano this morning, belting out arias for food and attention. It’s very endearing to see.
Thinking about the news, chatting with my significant other about it, we get into the ‘yeah-buts’. Yeah-buts dominate life. A situation is summarized. Or a question is asked. Etc. Then the yeah-buts arrive.
Like Hamas, Gaza, and Israel. They did this. Yeah-but the Hamas did that.
The SCOTUS said this. Yeah-but the Constitution says that. Yeah-but Alito.Yeah-but Roberts and his legacy concerns.
The weather is this. Yeah-but.
POTUS polls say this. Yeah-but Allan Lichtman says that. Yeah-but the polls. Yeah-but the trials. Yeah-but the economy. Yeah-but the Supreme Court. Yeah-but Clarence Thomas. Yeah-but Mike Johnson. Yeah-but the GOP resignations and infighting. Yeah-but.
Yeah-but enough for now. The yeah-buts are overflowing in my mind. I’m counting up and counting down.
Back in the kitchen, I went into the coffee-producing segment of my morning. BTW, my mind asks, why is it called a ‘kitchen’? A detour is made to research its roots. The usual suspects are involved: Latin, Old English, Middle English.
Okay, back to making coffee in the kitchen, where my mind sings, “For the love of coffee.” This is sung to the O’Jays’s song, “For the Love of Money”. Gleefully, The Neurons strike up the 1974 song in the morning mental music stream (Trademark brewing). I sing my version, “For the love of coffee,” and dance. Tucker watches with judgmental soicism. Papi heads to the door and yells for his release.
Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue 2024. The coffee is upon me. Here’s the O’Jays. Cheers
Mood: optermined (yes, that’s optimistic and determined: optermined)
Good morning’ sunshine. Good to feel your presence.
And hello, clouds. Not a surprise to see you coming back today. Felt like your visit here wasn’t over.
Hey, winds. You’re here, too? I understand rain is on the way.
That’s the weather set for April’s penultimate day, Monday, April 29, 2024. May is going to kick it on Wednesday.
Well, alright. We’re still experiencing spring. It’s coolish with that wind, and the clouds have more impact than then sun in deciding the temperature. Right now, yeah, 51 F, with a high of 57 F as a maybe top end.
Papi doesn’t approve of this weather. The ginger floof went outside, announced, “This is unacceptable,” stormed back in and headed for bed.
Tucker, my other house floof, just ate, washed, and curled up by my feet, like a worn-out puppy cat.
They were fed and happy. I made coffee and toasted a cinnamon bagel, then added butter, sugar, and cinnamon. I felt like I deserved something extra today. I had things to do and was a little impatient with existence. It was time to get things started.
Triggered by that phrase, The Neurons selected the Lenny Kravitz tune from 2001, “Dig In”, and commenced playing it in the morning mental music stream (Trademark in purgatory). Good theme song. Like the solidly energetic pop rock vibe it carries.
That’s it for this post. Stay fresh, be strong, remain strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. I’m gonna seize the coffee now. Here’s the music. Have a better one, friends. Cheers
Sun and clouds compete today. Their efforts culminate in a pleasant spring day, almost perfect for Sunday, April 28, 2024.
It’s 55 F at this point, just two degrees below our expected high. No rain or other precipitation is expected, despite the clouds. And guess what? No thwumper today. Don’t know if the job is done or they’ve taken the day off.
Three conversations dominate the household today. Nothing about Trump or his trials, the SCOTUS, or the election is being discussed.
No, today’s main topic began yesterday on Reddit. It was asked of women, “Which you rather meet a bear or a man in the woods?” It generates first, what kind of bear? Men are generally preferred over polar bears. People are ambivalent about the grizzly, but most said they’ll take a brown or black bear over meeting a man in the woods any day.
Salient points made were like, if a bear attacks you, people believe you, whereas, if it’s a man, it’s iffy. As one commenter summed it up for us, ‘”Har har, this woman would rather run into a bear than a man,” isn’t the comedic piece you may think it is. Instead, it’s a sad testament to the lives of many women and girls.’
One woman said in a tangent, “If I see a bear in my backyard, I’m not worried. But a man in my backyard is trouble.” She then explained her reasoning.
It’s a sad situation. So many women have been abused or killed by men that distrust among women has surged. And men are frequently responding with anger, resentment, and diatribes against women. That doesn’t move the needle in a positive way for men.
Next up in topics is whether I’ll go visit my aging mother. My wife is very supportive of me going to visit. (I actually think she’d experience it as a mini-vacation from the being who is me.) My goals would be to give Mom an emotional lift and help her with her daily needs, providing a break for the rest. They rightfully sound emotionally exhausted. I think I’ve decided that I will go. I just need to make the plans.
Finally, in what is seen as good news, our third subject is how great Tucker is doing. Energy levels and interaction are up, he’s gained more weight, and he’s eating with enthusiasm. I was telling him every day that he needs to eat and gain weight and strength, and he’s earnestly doing so.
Today’s song comes from looking for the thwumper yesterday. My wife was trying to see it but the sun was in her eyes. Hearing this, The Neurons responded with “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds”.
The 1967 song is a Beatles composition. Written mostly by John Lennon, it was inspired by his son’s artwork about a classmate. Young Julian Lennon specifically told his father the drawing was “Lucy – in the sky with diamonds.” (h/t to Wikipedia.org).
I know of the original song and covers by three other bands or individuals. I always enjoyed Elton John’s 1974 cover best, so I went with it.
Be positive, lean forward, remain strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has found its way into me. Time to rock and write, at least one more time.
Thwump, thwump, and away, in my beautiful, my beautiful machine.
Today calendar markers are Saturday, April 27, 2024. Tack on rainchi in Ashlandia. Rain keeps getting released. Temperatures this week have seesawed between highs in the 50s using Fahrenheit as the standard, and low forties at night That’ll continued today.
Had some squalls yesterday. My wife and I treated ourselves to dinner at a local Mexican restaurant. While we were in there eating, winds like the furies arrived. Then came some driving rain, the kind we don’t often see around here. These conditions were gone within fifteen minutes. Puddles and street gutters filled with draining water were left behind. But when we drove home, we came across sections of the city which seemed completely dry. Weirdness.
Today’s music is “Even Better Than the Real Thing” by U2. The Neurons nestled the 1992 song into my morning mental music stream as I played with story concepts while addressing my floofmeisters’ demands to be fed brekkie. Little thinking for such their breakfast deeds (food selection, bowl cleaning, heating water to add to the pate and kibble, reassure them that food is on the way). That leaves plenty o’ brain material for other matters, like writing in my head. The science I arrived at within the thinking was even better than the real thing, and there we were. Presto, the music began.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue 2024 for President Joe Biden and VP Kamela Harris. That’s my plan. Coffee has invigorated the thinking and ambulatory processes; here we go.
Michael Seidel, writer 