Wednesday’s Theme Music

We got rock. And coffee. Day is looking good so far.

Spring is holding onto Ashlandia. Up to 54 F now on this Thursday, May 24, 2023, with the weather dregs insisting that the mid to upper 70s is possible today. Well, a blue sky has shown up. Sunshine is plentiful. Wind has stilled and smells less like winter. Maybe we’ll see those temps. Wonderful walking weather or working outside until it’s dark weather.

Still snow up on the crests around us. That doesn’t mean much. Between altitude, latitude, and longitude, they’re in a different micro-clime. Same if you drive up or down the road more than four miles.

I enjoy the long days of sunlight. Looking forward to and not looking forward to summer solstice. Exciting ’bout it because, hey, summer is here! Carries a load of popular memories and high expectations based on who I was and what used to happen in the summer. But as an established adult, summer arrival ushers in the shrinking of the daylight. The reversal begins. Not right away, but the days will grow shorter. Sunset will arrive a little earlier. Sunrise starts poking in a little later. Ah, c’est le vie.

So I have the patio door-rescreened. Everything is cleaned up, re-installed, looking good. I’m pleased. What mesmerizes me are the floof reactions. They cannot simply walk past the new screen and in through the cleaned frame et al. They must stop and in-teeennntttly sniff it all down. Not just once. Several times. The looks on their faces when they do. They become thoughtful. “What is this? What happened to the smells from the previous residents?”

Part of the reason the screen became so torn up and the area a little dirtier than approved is that I’d installed a cat door there. That’s removed now. But with something like the cat door, I had to pause to remember when it was bought and all the felines that graced it with their feet and fur as they passed through. So many different styles. The criminal type, carefully sneaking in, lifting one corner first, peering in, not making a sound. The blasters, charging through like they’re bursting through a defensive line. Oh, and the undecided, entering half way to stop and look around like they’re realizing, that’s not the door to Narnia. A small subset of the tail-placers existed, too, the cat which would enter or leave, but stop just on the other side, leaving their tail in the other side. Such sweeties and lovelies, all, and so missed with their unique personalities.

The Neurons brought up a 1983 song by Simple Minds, “Waterfront”. This was wholly due to Papi the ginger zing. He tapped on the slider for entrance. When he came in, I discovered him soaked. “Is it raining?” I asked. His reply was to sweep against my legs in a full circle, wetting my calves, and then head for a kibble bowl. So I went out to look. No rain. Must’ve been a sprinkler.

But The Neurons were busy by then, singing “Come in, get out of the rain.” The whole course of the song began seconds later and remain full-throated in the morning mental music stream experience. You know, when I first heard this song back in the day, I thought it was a new song from Tears for Fears. It has that beat. Could be right out of “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” to me.

Stay pos and you do you and I’ll do me. Been drinking the coffee, doing me. Off to do other me things now. Here’s the music. Cheers

Saturday’s Theme Music

Glorious summer day. 70 F by ten AM. We had the back door open to let warm fresh air swept through the house, which is naturally cool. We believed this would also allow the cats to go in and out. But no. Tucker, the black and white elder statesfloof, went into the master BR and retired behind the slider blinds. Papi the inimitable ginger power, went to sleep in the living room where he could eye the open door if he cared.

Net is down at our house. Using my detective schools and DIY ‘tude, I determined the cable modem was dead. It’s been five years since it was installed, and that’s the service life for a standard modem. We went off and bought a new one. Now I can see the net verifying it was the modem, but until the system adds the cable modem in, we’re dead in the ether. We went off to a public place to do a little netting and check news, ensure none have died on us, as the homeline is over the net. Our cells are not but not all have our cell numbers. People just lose them.

Since the net was out and it was a nice day and we couldn’t do nada on the net and had already done laundry and cleaned, we went off for an afternoon of dining at the local plaza, which is where we be, I with a locally brewed cold one fronting my space. Salads and burgers are coming.

It’s Saturday, April 29, 2023. It’s now 83 F.. The sun shone light on the situation at 6 something this morning and will go until after 8. Cooler weather heading our way.

The Neurons are staying mum about why but they have The Police serenading me in the morning mental music stream with “King of Pain” from ’83. Talk about the unexplained workings of the mind — which is what was said to inspire Sting to write this tune.

Stay frosty and pos. Make way as you can for this rotation of the planet and the next. Here’s the music. Cheers

Tuesday’s Theme Music

’tis sunny enough for a shadeless desert but the sun is just waking the air’s warmth. 42 F outside but the weather sultans tell me 73 F is possible for Ashlandia today. The people are rejoicing. Sunshine’s appearance began about 6:15 this morning and will go until a few minutes after eight. The cats are happy with the weather, snoozing in sunshine in the front or back yard. Rest of the week is looking good. Summer is sliding toward us and gaining speed.

It’s Tuesday, April 25, 2023 today. A quiet time in Ashlandia, but it’s early. Politics are still ramping up. Homeless are camping out in a park. How much money is enough money for the Parks & Rec folks? What’s going on with the Oregon Shakespeare Festival? A cougar killed another deer in someone’s yard. Pets are missing and folks are worried.

Another storm of dreams has The Neurons rocking the morning mental music stream with “Rockin’ Into the Night” by 38 Special. The song came out in 1983, a good year for my kind of rock music. On Okinawa in service of the USAF at that time. This was one of those songs that became cranked in volume so we could sing along off key. It’s a good song for that purpose. I suspect that 1983 came up because I’ve been reflecting on life and recall that I broke my neck in 1982 on Okinawa. Wore a halo device for most of the humid Pacific summer. Anyway, part of me was saying, geez, that was forty-three years ago next month. Zowie.

A note on posting via WordPress. I was having issues. The issues grew, not just with WordPress but anything being used on MS Edge. I worked on fixing Edge for a while. Nothing worked. Yes, all the usual things. Anyway, I switched to Chrome this morning in frustration. Voila, as they say. No issues.

Seize the coffee. I’ve seized mine and slurped some down with a post-breakfast muffin. Window repair man coming to fix one that took a hit during a wind storm. It’s an outside panel. The inner one remains intact, so some heat loss but we weren’t exposed or anything. Stay pos and work the day.


Sunday’s Theme Music

You should be outside in Ashlandia. Feels like winter’s reins have loosened on our neck of the small valley. While the sun plays peek a boo with us, the air temp is already 50. The weather whisperers chant, it may reach 70 F. Kind of leaves us in a dressing conundrum. Do you trust the whisperers, sun, clouds, and seasons? They’ve been very capricious this year.

Today is Easter Sunday, 4/9/23. Per Easter rules, established in my life under my mother’s reign when I was a child, there will be an Easter meal. In this case, it’s brunch. My wife and I hooked up with a tribe who does the same things as our parents for these holidays. Funny how that works. Jews, Christians, Catholics, Unies, atheists, and agnostics will play games and have an Easter egg hunt. At 66.75 years old, I’m the second youngest there. My wife holds that honor of youngest.

Easter sunrise was inspiring. Golden sunshine broke over the landscape at 6:40 AM. The sun’s sojourn through our area is expected to continue until 7:45 PM. Good long day.

The Neurons planted a joyful song in the morning mental music stream today. “Blister in the Sun” by the Violent Femmes (1983 – forty years ago) was never released as a single but gained popularity from the album and from its use in television commercials, movies, and television shows. It’s a happy, jaunty song, and no, it’s not about masturbation. Come and listen.

Stay pos. Enjoy your day whether it’s a holiday for you or just another workday or day of leisure or whatever. I’m up for coffee now. Here’s the Femmes. Cheers

Tuesday’s Theme Music

You might not know unless you have a calendar, but this is Tuesday, 1/24/23. I’m on assignment on twenty-first century Earth where the calendar is sacred, equally important in education, entertainment, and business in most of the world.

I’ve landed again in Ashlandia, a small town, but not quaint. If you remember, it’s located in a river valley in a region officially called the state of Oregon, in a section that is further identified by its geographic location relative to the rest of the state, which is the south. Hence, one staying here for any time will hear ‘southern Oregon’ mentioned. Ashlandia’s population struggles with identity, wanting to have nice things, unable to agree what the nice things are or how much they’re willing to pay and sacrifice to have their nice things. I’ve learned through my many visits here that endless conversations about the same subjects are reprised through months, seasons, and years. Only new home and business construction goes forward even as most worry that they lack the water and infrastructure for new places and many business locations are empty. However, construction is an industry which should not be stopped. Again, as noted in previous reports, they have empty houses and dormitories but argue about what to do about their homeless population.

Ashlandia’s weather is much like its population, muddling on as something somewhere in the middle. It is winter but sunny, cold at night, warming during the day. This day started with temperatures in the high twenties. Sunshine, which came over the mountains at 7:32 in the morning, has warmed the air and earth. With a cloudless blue sky capping the valley, Ashlandia’s temperature is now in the mid-thirties and is expecting to reach the low fifties before the sun leaves the sky at 5:15 this afternoon. (That may be evening; evening and afternoon seem hazy, even misconstrued or misunderstood expressions with haphazard agreement about when afternoon ends and evening begins.)

I heard a song playing on the radio. Radios are in every road vehicle and many people spend time in road vehicles each day. The song I heard was “(You Can Still) Rock in America”. This song was recorded and released in 1983 by a song group who called themselves ‘Night Ranger’, a name which they selected to symbolize what they stand for. Admittedly, the song enthralled my human form. Apparently, my host, a male in in his mid-sixties, knew the song, as he started singing parts of the song. He became especially energetic singing the phrase, “You can still rock in America,” which is also the song’s title. He seemed to become dour, even disappointed when the song concluded. My understanding of this creatures is still weak.

I will partake of ‘coffee’ now. Many, include my host, drinks this to stimulate them each day. It’s one of many stimulants available and used by the town’s population. I’ve attached the song for your sampling. I close with hopes that I’ll not need to stay in this body in Ashlandia for too many more cycles. Your servant, Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

Well, we did it, we crossed the midnight Rubicon into a brave new world. Which, ah, looks quite a bit like the old world, unless you squint past the fog. Even then, the house across the street and the street and all the bushes and trees surrounding them are not new. But it was a new sunrise, which, admittedly, can be said every day. But this wall calendar is new, so take that, you scoffers.

Welcome to New Year’s Day, January 1, 2023. It is all about attitude, this New Year thing, innit? But the same can be said about every day. It’s a new day, with a new chance, a day which will never be experienced again, unless, of course, we solve the whole time-travel dilemma and find ways to go into the past, or it’s revealed that reality is much looser than the tidy order of days on a calendar and hours on a clock. So live for now as if it is new, right? Why not.

Sunrise was at 7:40 AM. Sunset will come at 4:50 PM. It’s 37 degrees F outside. Rain, with a high of 41 F, is expected. A dip in temperatures is coming this week. Nothing severe. No snow.

We went out to dinner with friends last night. The restaurant, open for thirty-five years, is closing. That was its last day. It served Thai food, and it was delicious. I thought it had been there for less time, but I was wrong. Then, dancing at an old hotel where an old band played music from the 1960s, 70s, and 80s. We danced, but not on the dance floor. One of our group was wearing her Apple watch. It warned her that the music was dangerously loud, 98 decibels. Adjusting, we danced in the corner by our table and had fun.

I’m using an old song, from all the way back in 1983, “New Year’s Day” by the Irish band, U2. Not much more to say about it on New Year’s Day.

Here’s the music. I’m going to get a new cup of coffee in an old cup. Feels like a good metaphor for something. Stay positive. Test negative. Press on. Cheers.

Wednesday’s Theme Music

A winter Wednesday morning to you. No snow here in the lower levels, but the temperatures and air quality has us singing that winter is upon us. No surprise, it being December 14, 2022, a nose hair short of mid-month. -2 C and foggy out there. The fog will grumble and fuss around the trees and houses for most of the morning but burn off and permit sunshine’s entrance. Daylight crept through the valley’s fog at 7:32 this morning. By the time the sun lowers its from our presence, the air temp is supposed to jump up to 46 degrees F. It may do so but yesterday’s 42 degrees felt like 34, as they say.

After perusing some morning news headlines, I pulled an early cup of coffee, and wrote the dream journal up. Les Neurons then then pulled me down a ‘where are they now’ path about a one-time neighbor and co-worker. We were serving the Air Force together at Onizuka AFB in the mid-nineties last century. Before Onizuka was renamed to honor an astronaut killed in t he Challenger disaster, it was Sunnyvale Air Station. It went from Air Station to Air Force Base to Air Base after being renamed Onizuka.

That has nothing to do with my friend. Last which I heard of him, he’d gone to Turkey on an unaccompanied assignment, returned to Florida, divorced, and retired. He and I ‘connected’ on Facebook but little was ever there of him except for annual birthday greetings from people I don’t know. He’d quit responding to those a decade ago. Alive or dead, The Neurons wonder.

Today’s song, brought to you by The Neurons and their ‘where are they now’ tour, is “Cut Like A Knife” by Bryan Adams from 1983. This is because the tour subject loved this song. Midway through a party, he’d request it. If he’d imbibed enough and it was late enough, he’d sing and play air guitar to the song. Thinking of him, I think of that song, and cigarettes and beer.

Hope you enjoy it. Stay pos and test neg. I gather from reading digital news papiers that a growing body of folks eschews such quaint measures as masking, testing, etc. “It’s nothing,” you read more often online even as rates of flu and COVID climb. Certainly, local store experiences find my wife and I in a tiny minority when we’re masked while shopping. Oh well, live and learn.

Here’s the tunes. I need to wrap up morning activities, and head to the coffee house for writing activities. Hope your day is safe but enjoyable. Let’s go on a limb and say, productive, too, right?


Friday’s Theme Music

My fellow Earthers. Today is the first day of the rest of your life. It’s also Friday, December 9, 2022.

I’ve been following a local online debate. A newly elected city councilor wants to change the time when the meeting begins, move it up an hour. He argues that will allow more people to attend. Well, let the debate begin.

  1. Moving the meeting an hour forward will allow more people to attend, those in favor say. Some moms have said, “Yes, I can attend at four, but I can’t attend at five.” The meeting goes for three hours.
  2. No, others say. “I’m still at work at four, or I’m driving home. I can attend at five but not at four.”

So each side uses the same argument. There were no complaints or calls for the meeting start time to change before the new councilor brought it up. Also, each side points out, the meetings are televised, streamed, and recorded. It feels like another variation of the daylight savings time argument, which can be reduced to, which is better for me? By extension, if it’s better for me, it’s better for all.

It’s foggy outside, Alexa tells me, and 34 F. She’s staked today’s high at 46 F. Says, expect rain. Except there’s no fog outside my windows. I can see distant mountains where snow is sprinkled across the green pine ridge. The winds are picking up. A drizzle has begun. The house floofs are not happy. They’re clambering for reparations because the sun isn’t giving them the shine they like. All reparations have been rejected — kibble, canned food, treats, and catnip. Attention is okay, they admit. They will take some scratching and stroking, but when I stop, they shout, more, more, more, like Billy Idol in fur, with less piercings.

As for the sun, it curved over the earth’s shape and into our valley at 7:28 this morning but remains sequestered behind sturdy clouds. Departure time for sunshine is 4:39 PM.

You can probably guess the song will be Billy Idol with “Rebel Yell” from 1983. Soon as that comparison went through my gray matter, The Neurons exclaimed, “Ooh, ‘Rebel Yell’, Billy Idol, yeah,” and began playing the song. Bourbon called Rebel Yell inspired the tune. I guess that’s a kind of scratching that satisfies some itches.

Speaking of scratches and itches, I’ll need some coffee. This is the first day of the rest of my life, you know. Stay positive and test negative. Here’s Billy with the music. I must admit that the video, with the musicians sneering, smirking, and posturing, gave me a laugh. Hope you enjoy it. Cheers

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Get out your cards and markers. Time for daily bingo.

Wednesday. November. Thirty. Twenty twenty-two. Sunrise. Seven nineteen. Forty-one degrees F. Forty-six degrees F. Sunshine. Clear skies. Rain. Sunset. Four forty.

We have a bingo. Congratulations, sir. Here is your coffee.

Winds are blustering like a lying politician trying to distract everyone from their crimes. Our backyard flowering pear is shedding its golden leaves by the binful, turning the back land into a golden carpet. All around town, the leaves in the trees are switching to the same brown shade, beautiful in its own manner. Naked tree branches stretch toward sunshine and spring’s promise as a November day full of autumn hails the oncoming winter.

A dream provided The Neurons with today’s morning mental music stream selection. “Hold Me Now” by the Thompson Twins was released in 1983 and became a hit in many places. It also was used to end a dream last night. So, it comes up now as today’s music selection.

I have my coffee, thanks, courtesy of winning daily bingo. Stay pos, test neg, etc. Try to live a good life. Make moments count. Here’s the tune. Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

The Day Gods delivered Sunday. The Cloud Gods poured frothy clouds across the sky and added a tincture of gray to them. The Sun Gods arrived at 6:59 this morning and pushed some clouds aside, admitting slates of blue sky and sunshine. The Tree Gods yawned and made no changes to the panoply of colorful leaves.

It’s November 13, 2022.

The Sun Gods will remove the valley’s light at 4:51 PM, letting the Night Gods creep back in. Meanwhile, the Gods of Heat and Warmth have the temperature at 40 F. They will have us crack 52 F, they tell us through their spokespeople. Since it all started, the Wind Gods have implemented gusts and winds, and the Sky Gods have cleaned up the clouds, giving sunshine and blue sky unfettered control — for the moment. It’s a typical day for the gods as they act and counter act, working for a sustained advantage.

Reading the news about a rookie cop shooting someone in the back after misidentifying them has The Neurons busy. It was a tragic mistake, the police chief tells us, and the rookie is fired. The family of the teenager — that’s the shooting victim — and the girl who was with him are distraught. But, it’s a mistake. Mistakes happen. Seizing that, The Neurons pour the 1983 Men At Work song, “It’s A Mistake”, into the morning mental music stream.

The Coffee Gods have come through with their goods, so I’m off. Stay positive and test negative. Here’s the music. Wishing you the best. Cheers

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