Tag: 1971

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: Freshfree

Thursday has trundled in, soft of foot and full of grace, delivering smoke in our space, and pleasing night air on our face.

It’s Thursday, 8/8/24, or 24/8/8.

Our smoke has risen into the unhealthy zone. Don’t know which fire is our source. We have many to select from. None too close but valleys channel it in. It looks like crap out there. Can’t see the mountains for the smoke, and the blue sky has been squirted into smoggy tones. 65 F outside my house today, we’re expecting a thirty degree rise to the high. No wind is blowing, so a sort of still deadness rules. I expect zombies to start emerging from the smoke at any moment.

We’ve been spoiled by the peaches acquired at the growers market in the last two visits. Both times we returned with the sweetest, tastiest, most perfectly ripe peaches. Sooo juicy. The blackberries were found wanting. Plump and juicy, yes, but only one out of four is sweet. We’re of the school that blacberries should be sweet and not sour, and the sour blackberries aren’t sitting well on my tongue. Besides those fruits, we picked up green onions — my wife is a fiend for ’em — and greens. Good stuff: local and organic. Non-GMO.

I posted something about Gov Walz the other day. A right wing friend commented, “He put tampons in the boys room.” I reacted, oh, no! How terrible! How tragic! Must cost billions of dollars. Such a waste, such a waste.

Well, no, I didn’t write all that. I thought it. I wasn’t going to write it because the issue doesn’t deserve any oxygen. As Joey from Friends said, “It’s something a cow would say. It’s a moo point.”

My wife has an ongoing thing with spiders in the bath. I use the shower stall, so this doesn’t involve me, but whenever she heads to the tub, she must clear out several spiders. We don’t kill spiders and these are all of the daddy longlegs variations. She plugs up the drain with a cloth to keep them from climbing up through there and removes them by means of a rolled, stiff piece of paper. She calls this her spider catcher. It’s actually an old invoice for blinds. We pulled it out a month ago to see when we purchased our blinds. It hasn’t been refiled because it’s now my wife’s spider catcher. She gives me a summary — “There were three spiders in there. I don’t know they’re coming from. They seem to get stuck. Stupid spiders. I move them and they go right back in there.”

With freedom still my theme this week, The Neurons are channeling Bread’s 1971 song, “Mother Freedom” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark discounted). My older sister had this album so I knew the song. I met my wife later that year. Her sister had the album on 8-track and regularly played it. It’s tres fam. God song for freedom week, though.

Freedom, keep walkin’
Keep on your toesand don’t stop talkin’ ’bout
Freedom, get goin’
Lots to be learned and lots to be known ’bout
People gotta reach ’em
Sit ’em right down and then you gotta teach ’em ’bout
Freedom, gotta win it
Gotta put yourself smack dab in it

Hey tomorrow
Now don’t you go away
‘Cause freedom
Just might come your way

Freedom, keep tryin’
People stay alive and people keep dyin’ for
Freedom, so don’t lose it
Ya gotta understand ya just can’t abuse it
Freedom, get movin’
Never gonna stop till everybody’s groovin’ on
Love for – one another
Callin’ some friend and callin’ some brother

h/t to AZLyrics.com

Just 89 days until the elections. Stay fresh, be strong, and remain postive. Vote Blue. Coffee has found its way into a cup and on into my systems, so all systems are go. Here’s the music video. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: digitized

Get up and look out windows, judging the air’s color. Doesn’t look too bad. Some tinges of smok. A window is cracked opened. The sniff test is employed. Doesn’t smell too bad. The air feels cold.

I go on out into the living area and office, interrogate Alexa and checking my weather station, and then go online and check weather and air quality. It’s 64, and the AQI is in the sixties, not too bad. Doors and windows are opened and complaining floofs are released.

It’s Tuesday, July 23, 2024. Today’s high will be 96 F, so we’re not too bad. It’s the triple digit stuff that really gets to you.

My wife departs to meet some friends at the Growers Market. Yeah, they don’t use an apostrophe. Sirens erupt. Systems are checked to see, where are they going? What’s going on? I printed out the evacuation checklist yesterday. You know, just in guess. It’s sitting here beside me. We always have basic bags ready but maybe we should prepare the whole shebang. Just in case. It’s hot and dry here. Lightning can strike and ignite something without warning. Something to consider.

Out in the news world, it’s no surprise that the Secret Service Director resigned. They were being hounded and the GOP was openly, sharply hostile. That’s their style.

A headline says, “World registers hottest day ever recorded on July 21”. Wasn’t that hot here in Ashlandia. We seem to be contrarians. The article goes on, “Last year saw four days in a row break the record, from July 3 through July 6, as climate change, driven by the burning of fossil fuels, drove extreme heat across the Northern Hemisphere.

Every month since June 2023 – 13 months in a row – has now ranked as the planet’s hottest since records began, compared with the corresponding month in previous years, Copernicus said.

Some scientists have suggested 2024 could outrank 2023 as the hottest year since records began, as climate change and the El Nino natural weather phenomenon — which ended in April — have pushed temperatures ever higher this year. 

I imagine Republicans pooh-poohing the news and laughing. In this visual, it’s my staunch BIL MAGAt representing them. “It’s the weather,” he says loudly, shrugging, gesturing with his hands. “It’s always changing. It gets hot, it gets cold, big deal. You liberals.”

Yeah, we liberals are worrying about nothing except the increase in record temperatures — high and lows — and the acceleration of extreme weather. We’re worried about increased flooding and wildfires turning the air dark with smoke. We’re worried about increasing extended droughts and melting glaciers.

Tsk. So silly of us.

The music occupying my morning mental music stream (Trademark iffy) owes its presence to my wife. She was online, surfing. “Oh, I like that,” she says.

I do my spousal duty. “What is it?”

“This tee shirt. It says, I am woman, watch me vote.”

“Yes, that’s good.”

The Neurons pounced. I am woman, hear me roar, in numbers too big to ignore, begins. “I Am Woman”. Helen Reddy. 1971. As I often do with celebrities I haven’t heard or seen in a while, I verify her life status. Died in 2020, 78 years old. No cause of death given.

This is life in the digital age.

The song took on its own life as a anthem of female empowerment back in that last century, when the U.S. was becoming a more progressive nation. I was present at a rally in Caifornia when the female protestors spontaneously sang it A capella. Powerful moment down on Market Street in SF.

The house is cool. Thermostat says it’s 76 F inside. Feels good. I go around closing windows, sealing in the cool air for the day.

Be strong, stay positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has endorsed my systems. I’m ready to rock. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Smokytitis

It’s a beautiful summer morning *cough cough*. Except for the smoke in the valley.

Yes, Ashlandia has awoken to smoke in our air on this Friday, June 21, 2024. It’ 70 F out and is expected to clip 93 F. The smoke will cut the high by a few but the smoke’s impact, scratching throats and eyes, congesting noses and sinuses, stirring up infections and limiting outdoor activities, is depressing. Still not as bad as weather in other states

Completed my DIY plumbing yesterday. Took most of the day, a chunk of energy, and three trips to the hardware store. It all worked out, though. My keywords for completing it were persistence, seating, alignment, and tighten. Satisfying and rewarding, once I finished it. And again, I learned.

For relaxation last night, we headed to Lithia Park in the downtown zone for the city band’s concert. It was a sweet, comfortable time as they presented a mixed box of sounds from the 1900s. Three bucks showed up at the park. One enlivened the show by visiting with some patrons and then dashing across the lawn in front of the band. That earned him a light spatter of applause. The other two came up to the front, surveyed the scene, and went around it behind the bandshell.

Back home, the net went out for the evening, so we reverted to reading books and light housecleaning.

On personal matters, my ankle is doing better. Don’t think I’ve noticed swelling in the last two days. There is stiffness. Mostly, there’s distrust. I’m leery of trusting it not to go out. I’m still wrapping it for support and I’m avoiding certain movements with it but I’m mostly walking sans limp.

Spoke with Mom. She’s not happy with her hospital bed. I think it’s a matter of adjustments, as its smaller shape had an impact on how things were arranged, forcing new arrangments to her personal area. That comes with challenges.

Over on Dad’s side, good news abounds. Took ten pounds of fluids out of him. He’s complaining about his kidney-friendly diet and is being moved from ICU to a private acute rehab room. So, hurrah there. A dialysis decision has His wife told me that she’d been worried about costs, but his Medicare and Tricare-for-Life pays for it all. The system works, at least for him. So will respond, yes, because he’s a white man. And they’re probably right but I hope we reach a point that all can be treated in the same way.

The Neurons, being not very original, have an abundance of smoke-themed songs in the morning mental music stream (Trademark hazy). One persistent song was “Smoke from A Distant Fire”, a 1977 hit for Sanford & Towsend. But I shouted, “Get thee back with that music!” That ignited skitter mode in the floofs because they thought I addressed them. I finished to The Neurons, “I reject that song for today and that whole damn attitude. That sent The Neurons afluttering because I’d not even imbibed coffee yet.

Papi then approached to pet me. As scritches were exchanged, The Neurons found an old song, “Jeepster”, and began playing it in the morning mental music stream. Although the T-Rex song came out in 1971, it has a mid to late 1960s sound to my ears. Either way, it’s a fine, upbeat offering for today’s theme music.

Coffee has now been enjoyed. Smoke is lazily graying the azure sky. Don’t know from whence the it originates — the smoke not the sky — but it’s time for me to go rock and roll. Remain pos, be strong, lean forward, and rock on. Here’s the music. There I go, a leaf on the wind. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: oneofthosekindofdaysic

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

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Thwumpday’s Theme Music

Mood: Melloffee

The choppers continued back and forth, up and down. Thwump thwump thwump thwump. We can hear them in the house, windows closed and all. Outside, they’re much louder. This is day four of their presence.

This is Sunday, April 21, 2024. Or with those choppers going in Sunday’s calm blue silence, Thwumpday.

The helicopters seem to start at 8 AM and go until later afternoon. They’re out there as part of the project to clean up the watershed mountainsides to make the area less attractive to fire. So yes, they are a good thing.

They’re driving my wife a little crazy, she claims. Always there, rising and falling in volume as they thwump about.

I don’t mind them. Reminds me of being on military bases. Makes me a little nostalgic.

Beyond the choppers, blue is the predominate impression with my outward gaze through the glass. Clouds are resting on the horizon but over me is sunshine and blue skies. It’s 48 F at the moment. Some rain is predicted. The high will be about 66 F, a drop from our recent forays into the seventies.

The floof boys don’t seem to mind the choppers. Seem to have adjusted to them. They don’t fly directly overhead. The first days had Papi suspicious. He’d go out there and look and look, as if he worried that they were coming for him. He has a mysterious past, you know. Who knows what mischief he did in his youth.

On to the theme music. As I perused the weather this AM, I mildly complained to myself about the lower high. We’d just been in the seventies. Now —

Want something from the seventies? The Neurons asked.

I was blank and confused. Before I could summon a response, they were playing “Whatch See Is Whatcha Get” by The Dramatics in the morning mental music stream (Trademark trending). The song was released in 1971. I always enjoyed it. It made a comeback in my mind when the personal computer age burst upon is. “What You See Is What You Get” — WYSIWYG — was a big thing with software. The Neurons would play The Dramatics song whenever I saw that on the software box or in a glossy magazine ad.

Stay positive, dress appropriately, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee is being choppered in. I hear it coming. Thwump thwump.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: Cheervernal

Salutations to all the other people traveling this space rock. Welcome to Thursday, March 7 2024.

Kicky weather today in Ashlandia, where the springs are above average. Sprinter is back as spring and winter mixes it up. We begin with cold temperatures and clear skies. Was 30 F when I pried myself out of bed and shuffled toward the coffee-making process. Flooftours took me to the petting, greeting, and feeding areas for our housecats. While the furnace rumbled up in the attic, sunshine refreshed us as a blue sky rose from the darkness.

But then…dun dun dun. Patchy fog began biting into the blue sky, casting dark shadows on the sunny green mountains in the south and the wintry snow-kissed realms to the north and east. Sluggish as a coffee-deprived human, the temperature is squeaking through the thirties toward the forties. The high, they say, will be around 48 F in these environs before night sweeps in, dragging winter back in with it.

I played “Fresh Air” by Quicksilver Messenger Service yesterday. I always thought it had a lot of Santana shadings. Those thoughts lowered The Neurons into my memory mines, where they went through Santana’s offerings and returned with several favorites. One ended up dominating the morning mental music stream, a 1971 song called “Everybody’s Everything”. Where a young Neal Schon, Journey’s eventual guitarist, shared guitar duties on the original song, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Jimmy Vaughn, and Los Lobos joined Santana on this video. Not the greatest video but still mesmerizing to see and hear the late SRV. Stay around for the lively percussions.

Be strong, lean forward, stay strong, and vote Blue. Coffee is already percolating around my system. Have a fab one. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: Hapup (happy and upbeat)

Saturday, January 13, 2024, has arrived with higher temperatures and heavy, wind-driven rain whipping Ashlandia (where the coffee is excellent and the parks are above average). It’s 42 F now, not far from the expected peak of 49 F. Rain has been falling all night, and the misty low, fat clouds look like they have a lot more to give.

The cats both wanted out this morning after their breakfast. Tucker settled in a dry but cold location on the front porch while Papi sought whatever drives him to wander. I managed to coax both back in after thirty minutes. When they came in, both dashed for me and I discovered Papi was soaked. I toweled him off (despite his protests and efforts to flee) and then Papi headed for the kibble station while Tucker went to the litter box.

Left home early, didn’t take the dog (don’t have one) or the cats (I have two). Coffee shop numero uno was at full cap so I went to numero dos. A prime writing location was available so I sat and began. Unfortunately, I discovered that a leak was exploring the ceiling above and splashing down. I alerted the staff and shifted sites. No good writing location was available but I found a table and set up camp. A young guy at my most preferred site. Understanding that I was on a laptop and could use an outlet, he approached and offered it to me. Such kindness. I offered to buy him something as reward but he declined.

One amusing thing was observed. I saw one barista drift through, washing off the unused tables and tidying. About four minutes after she went through, a second one went through, doing the same thing to the same tables.

Very satisfying and uplifting dreams were experienced last night. Hope everyone has such dreams in their life. Thinking about it had The Neurons plug “What Is Life” by George Harrison (1971) intorock the morning mental music stream (Trademark drifting). I get what The Neurons are doing there, because I’d been musing about life since a conversation with a friend about death the other day. Her husband worries about death and fears it. I related back that I didn’t worry about it because we don’t know if there is an ‘other side’ or the full nature of ourselves and our existence. I mean, between religion, science, and philosophy, we’ve developed some great ideas and insights about what it is. But knowledge is ever-evolving, and as we explore the quantum side of being more, we might surprise ourselves with what we learn. “I think, therefore I am,” might even apply to us after we die along paths that we can’t yet divine.

Stay pos, lean forward, remain strong, and test negative. Coffee and its bennies are already perking through my systems. Here is thy theme music. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: transcendant

It’s December 8, 2023, Friday. 37 F outside in Ashlandia, where the women are lovely and the men don’t brood, up from 29 F. We were encased in a gothic novel cover a few hours ago; fog, mist, and diminished gray light set a brooding stage of mysterious shadows and stifled sounds. We brought on the fireplace to help the furnace with the day’s early cold moisture, and it was cozyrama.

Our valley’s high will be 46 F. Snow flurries are in today’s weather blend.

Sis is going home from her operation and all was a success. That encouraged The Neurons to light up the morning mental music stream (Trademark bamboozled) with Ten Years After at Woodstock with “Going Home”. It’s a powerful old-time rocker for an early Friday morning before I’d had coffee and my mind segued to their song, “I’d Love to Change the World”. When I used it back in 2019, I wrote,

Ten Years After released “I’d Love to Change the World” in 1971 as a response to the violence, protests, emerging counter-culture, resistant establishment, and war. Gosh, does any of that have any echos in today’s world? Naw, probably just me.

Like most of TYA’s offerings, the song features some powerful Alvin Lee guitar work, which is always good to hear. Beyond the rock essence of guitar and dream, these lyrics, and how they’re presented in the song, plaintive, accepting, and reflective, spoke to me as a fifteen-year-old when the song came out, but still talks to me as a sixty-three-year-old.

I’d love to change the world

But I don’t know what to do.

So I’ll leave it up to you.

I’ll leave that up there, adding that the other line resonating with me is, “Tax the rich, feed the poor, till there are no rich no more.” Guess I’m getting more revolutionary as I age.

Stay positive, fight injustice, remain strong, help others, and lean forward. Give me more coffee and then I’ll do the same. Here’s the video. Gotta go; cat wants in. Rock on.

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: caustic

Today is Friday, August 25, 2023, in Ashlandia, where the smoke is thick and the air is cool.

Had to take my car in and drop it off. 1. Great to have a break in routines and tedium. 2. Hated to have a break in my routines. 3. It felt early out there.

In the car shop were posters showing different aspects of cars and repairs — electrical, starter system, suspension, brakes, etc. I stood in front of them remembering fixing those things are different cars during my life. Not a love of doing it for me; I’m not mechanically minded. Too poor to pay someone to do it. But that honed that whole idea in me, fix me it myself. Modern cars are much different. And I have more money. Plus, the lack of facilities — the military provided us workshops and facilities to fix our cars — means I take my cars and drop them off for others to tend them. There aren’t any points and plugs to changed, no rotor. I only check fluids and air pressures in this generation of my life. It’s one of many things which have changed, and are still changing.

Had some chuckles over Donald Trump’s height and weight claims when he was booked in: 6’3 and 215 pounds. One person noted, that’s almost the same height and weight as Cincinnati Bengals quarterback Joe Burrow, and very close to other quarterbacks, such Tom Brady. Patrick Mahones, KC Chiefs QB, is an inch shorter but ten pounds heavier than DJT. Somehow, the weight looks very different on Trump. Must be the football padding and uniform…right? Right. What a vain, vain man and liar DJT shows himself to be. Make me hurt for his supporters who unflinchingly support and believe him — many claim. I wonder.

From that, it was an easy route for The Neurons to dial up a Three Dog Night song called “Liar” from 1971 and slot it into the morning mental music stream (Trademark surprising). No more to say about it. Most of the chorus is the group loudly singing, “Liar!”

For the record, it’s smoky out there, around here. 70 F now, we’ll clip the hear in the low nineties today. Stay pos and be cool. Hand me my coffee. Here we go. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: uncertain

It’s morning in Ashlandia, where the children aren’t sure but the parents are very confident. Current temp is a little warm for the AM, 74 F. Low 90s are kicked around as the high although one source says it’ll only be 89 F. Like, where do they get that? Well, we’ll see, won’t we? Cool breeze just started kissing my neck, trying to coax me into a better mood. I’ll see what they have to offer.

Another battle of the dreams for my night. Long dreams but once again, I had the one about the house flying through space. Wakin’ from it, I argued with myself. The dream self was worried ’bout the cats being out in space again. Wakin’ self told dream self, relax, we’re not in space. Real tug of war as The Neurons would take one side and then the other.

In world news, things are bad and getting worse. Over to you, David.

Well, that’s how it feels with so many weather disasters underway, along with the war in Ukraine. In good news, many companies are seeing excellent sales. Because that will really matter in the long run, yeah?

Sure. The world will be burning and flooding, almost devoid of glaciers at the poles, and the news headlines will be, Amazon had record sales. And everyone will be like, thank god they can deliver by drones.

Of course, I still write. The world is burning and flooding, but I write on. Just like everyone else, pursuing my own agenda. It’s all crashin’, so what will help me cope and get on by? Well, give me a cuppa coffee and let me write a tale.

See, that’s the thing. While a greater mess happening to the whole of us and our world, each of us are dealing with our private addictions and desires. The big stuff happening is so big and abstract in many ways, so debilitating and demoralizing, we respond by turning to something which we can try to control. At least, that’s my theory. Probably wrong as the decision to end “Firefly”.

Writing has inspired The Neurons’ song choice today. I’m like, what happens now, all the while, entertaining different directions in me head, worrying about where I’m at with it (this feels like a box), trying to bring it all together and to an end without losin’ the plot. Out out that came the James Gang with “Walk Away” from 1971. Makes sense if you look at the song words. Think they’re called lyrics.

“Takin’ my time, choosin’ my lines,
“Tryin’ to decide what to do.”

And that’s what I’m doing, trying to decide what to do, searching for the words and sentences. They’re there, just waiting for them to emerge, kind of worried because they’re not what I expected.

Stay pos and be strong. Here we go, another day in the life of (insert your name here). Coffee is up; let’s go. Cheers

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