There I was in my Jaguar. A gleaming dark blue roadster, the top was up. Looked like a series one. Not sure, because it was part of the dreamscape. The rest of the dream included a sequence in which a woman and I trick one another into not marrying, then realizing at the end that each had the same goal in mind — not to marry the other — and agreed it was for the best.
After that dream, today’s song choice began playing in my mind. “Young Turks” by Rod Stewart was released in 1981. The sound had shifted from previous Stewart offerings as a solo act and as part of a band, but it worked. Although it peaked at number five in the U.S., it hit number one in other places, and generally charted well around the world. Bottom lining it, the song is pretty well known among people of a certain age.
Hope you enjoy it. Stay positive, test negative, and wear a mask. Cheers
Ever been out, doin’ your thang, mindin’ your own bizness, when suddenly, ‘lo, an urgent need strikes? Maybe it’s urgent hunger; you’re suddenly famished. Or thirst. You need coffee — stat. Or maybe it’s the worst one, you feel the need to pee…urgently.
Such happened to me yesterday afternoon. Halftime had started for the rain. I thought I’d get some outside walking in. I’d headed up into the hills around and behind my house. One mile became two, two became three.
I was monitoring where I was and deliberately plotting my routes. I knew I was about a mile from home. Dusk was slithering in. I’d descended down to Siskiyou Boulevard. Four-forty-five, cars passing had their headlights on. I was torn between putting on more distance when the need to pee struck urgently.
Naturally, as I pondered my sit. and debated options, a song provided distraction. In this case, it was “Urgent” (1981) by Foreigner.
“Urgent! Urgent! Urgent! Emergency.” I think that’s how the lyrics go.
Enjoy your day. Wear a mask, please, and social distance. I know it’s been a while, and you’re getting weary, but the payoff by staying strong is that it’s better for us as a civilization.
I went with an old familiar from David Bowie and Queen today. Queen’s Freddie Mercury is gone, along with David Bowie, unnecessary reminders about our final destinations.
They made their marks, though. Thanks to technology, solace can be had by listening to their performances again and again.
As today is election day in the USA (prompting some mental hearing of Alice Cooper and their song, “Elected”), but “Under Pressure” (released in 1981) seems more of a fit. Sadly, that’s because Trump and his followers, abetted by the GOP, are working hard to create obstacles for this civic duty. Once upon a day, the United States had low turnout but the elections themselves were flawlessly executed. A lot of that changed with the hanging chads debacle in Florida in 2000. At least, such is where it seems to start in my mind, as the SCOTUS was called upon to interpret state laws, halt the recount, and declare a winner. Since then, campaigning and elections have become more contentious in the USA.
The nature of Trump’s campaigning and the attributes of his base have added to the pressure. Trump wants votes to not be counted, squalling like an infant over cheating that doesn’t exist, threatening to challenge results in court beforehand, obviously attempting to intimidate voters. Gun and ammo sales are up. The FBI is warning of the threat of violence from armed Trump supporters.
More pressure yet comes from COVID-19. Again, politics are in play. Republican led states are leading as COVID-19 cases climb. As cases climb, hospitals fill, but our healthcare system under greater and greater pressure.
That pressure comes atop the economic pressure instilled by necessary measures to flatter the curve. Experts consistently warned that a sizeable chunk of the US population is working poor, without emergency savings, living from paycheck to paycheck. All that was swept under the rug. Now, coronavirus has curtailed the service and consumer economy, and people are under pressure to have enough money to pay the rent and buy food.
Yeah, it’s a mess. All of that is just a tiny fraction of the mess we’re in – so many things weren’t mentioned because I didn’t want to go too ranty before my coffee – but it all adds to the pressure that we face in the United States, part of the pressure we’re facing in the world, making the Queen/David Bowie song “Under Pressure” my choice for today’s theme music.
Now I need to go see a machine about some coffee. Cheers
Guess I’m in a nostalgic mood. Perhaps it’s the day. With gusty winds, leaves turning yellow and gold and dancing as they leap from trees, a blue sky so clear you can see tomorrow, and a bit of balmy warmth creeping in, it feels like a perfect autumn day. At least, this is how I remember perfect autumn days. They make me want to go somewhere, do things, visit with friends, and chat with nature.
Totally lifts my spirit even while I hunger to beg off the usual routines, jump in the car, and be off. With some amusement, as I did the dress-feed the cats–make breakfast and coffee routine, I was humming sotto voce. Catching the tune, I put words to it with surprise.
The song was from 1981. I was twenty-five then, feeling good about life and prospects. The year’s beginning had us living in base housing at Randolph Air Force Base in Texas, driving a new metallic copper Pontiac Firebird we’d bought the year before. Aunts, uncles, and cousins had moved here from Pittsburgh, PA, and lived nearby, giving us family to visit. Life had an easy rhythm.
By May, we’d sold the car and taken up a new assignment at Kadena Air Base, Okinawa, Japan, a three year tour which began with us living for a few weeks in the base hotel while we bought a used car and found a place to live off base. It was a great adventure.
Here is Santana’s 1981 cover of “Winning”, a song from that time.
My wife made some delicious spicy chick pea soup for dinner yesterday. We both love soups, and she delights in finding healthy recipes.
It was good soup weather, coolish but sunny, with a blue sky that let us see the far mountains. As I sat to eat the soup, I regarded its contents and breathed its aroma. Spinach, chick peas, carrots…good stuff, made with her homemade stock. Warm ciabatta bread (we’re mad about ciabatta bread) was available. Dipping the bread in the soup and eating it as the soup cooled was almost orgasmic.
After tasting it, I said, “This is great soup. What a wonderful smell. Thanks for making it.”
She said nothing. After a few minutes of quiet eating, she offered, “This is good soup, isn’t it?”
I kept eating but I thought, is this a trap? Did she not hear me before? Is she fishing for compliments, or just being redundant? (That’s probably the wrong way to think of it.)
In the past, I may have sniffed, “I just said that.” This time, I answered, “Yes, this is great soup. Thanks for making it.”
But my mind jumped on a train of thoughts about comments I’d made throughout the day that didn’t gain me a reply, no reply at all.
Which took me to the Genesis song from 1981, “No Reply at All”.
My mind is serenading me wit Red Ryder’s 1981 song, “Lunatic Fringe”, today.
Back when I was commuting and working in an office, I’d often think of this song. I always seemed to encounter people with perspectives and facts that didn’t align with reality. Feels like I’m seeing and hearing more of it on the television, radio, and intertubes. Yet, I always wonder if I’m the lunatic fringe, out of sync with reality. That drives me to verify and vet information, and trace stories, looking for the source.
All this is helpful while writing. I enjoy elements in what I read (or the movies and television shows that I watch), so I plug it into my writing. When I’m writing, I enjoy an imaginary reader wondering, “WTF?” This is especially true if I laugh out loud when I’m writing it.
Here’s a sample of “Lunatic Fringe” lyrics (h/t to Metrolyrics.com), followed by the song.
Lunatic Fringe I know you’re out there You’re in hiding, and you hold your meetings I can hear you coming, and I know what you’re after We’re wise to you this time we won’t let you kill the laughter Lunatic Fringe – in the twilight’s last gleaming This is open season, but you won’t get too far ‘Cause you got to blame someone for your own confusion We’re all on guard this time against the Final Solution We can hear you coming
We can hear you coming no, you’re not going to win this time, your not gonna win
Woke up hot at three-ish. As I reviewed dreams, got up and drank water, and then opened the back door to entertain cool night air, my mind began streaming Blue Oyster Cult and “Burnin’ for You” (1981).
My mind seems to have a song ready for any moment. I imagine a team of people up there. Males and females are armed with servers loaded with music. Sitting on swivel chairs, they stay poised to begin songs for each sight, sound, thought, emotion, and memory.
“Burnin’ for You” works on multiple levels. Fer instance, It addresses homes in a major way. That’s fittin’ for ‘merica, where Homeland Security and police battle protesters as jobs and savings dwindle and eviction notices fly, leaving folks without homes. BOC catches that:
Home in the valley
Home in the city
Home isn’t pretty
Ain’t no home for me
Yet, priorities: save the businesses! Protect the billionaires! Grow the military!
Sorry. Jumped onto my anti-GOP train as led by 45 hisself. I’ll’ stop now. Here’s the music.
Reading about Florida setting a new record for COVID-19 cases, then a new record for deaths, then the urge to open Disney, and the demand that children return to school. Then there are many other matters churning my stomach and leaving me saying, “I can’t go for that.”
Fortunately, Hall & Oates’ song, “I Can’t Go for That (No Can Do)” (1981) covers it, making it today’s theme music.
Listening to the news from various places but mostly the U.S., I’m hearing a lot of calls to open up businesses and start up the economy. I thought they needed theme music. I’m recommended the Rolling Stones with “Start Me Up” (1981).
As a point of order, I’m not in favor of most places in the U.S. starting up. Insufficient testing is in place, tracing has huge gaps, and not enough is known about COVID-19 at this point. It seems like many places are taking a shrugged shoulders, fingers crossed, half-assed approach. While plans don’t need to be perfect, half-assed rarely succeeds. History will be our judge.
Well, from sometime yesterday, out walking in the hills, admiring the sunset’s effects on the northern mountains, came some lines from the Styx song, “The Best of Times” (1981).
The headlines read, “These are the worst of times”
I do believe it’s true
I feel so helpless like a boat against the tide
I wish the summer winds could bring back paradise
Yes, the helplessness and frustration that seems to permeate so much of life sometimes can make it seem like the worse of times. It’s not for me, of course, but stress, and that sense, comes from that lack of control and the inability to steer things, to be able to take action and change the course before we wreck.
I’m sure most of us have experienced it at least once in a lifetime, where we said, “I know where this is going, and you’re not going to like it.” Then it happens, and all the misery you predicted comes to pass and others ask, “Who could have seen this was going to happen?”
Well, hell, many of us do see these things, but we’re ignored. We don’t get used to that; it’s just frustrating.
Then it all passes, and the courses that you thought should have been taken are, and things go great for a while.
No, I’m not a master prognosticator. I just color my memories with the best of times.
Michael Seidel, writer 