Tag: 1983

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

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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

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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.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sDr9B5sQi0g

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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?

Cheers

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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

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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

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=88pV7cOg8o4
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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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Saturday’s Theme Music

Got up early, fed the cats. Went back to bed because, at 7:15 AM, the light cast a feel that it was closer to five AM. Rising an hour later on this Saturday morning, I found the light much improved. Mixed with clouds, sunshine, rains, and mist, the light seemed pretty much perfect.

It couldn’t last. Clouds swarmed the local atmosphere. Rain shadowed in. But I still thought, it might be nice outside, because it was warm and cozy within, right? Papi, my ginger-furred wonder, told me otherwise. He was beating on the front door. I rushed over and opened it. Yelling, “Meow,” as he dashed in, he let me know how incensed he was. It was cold and wet outside and now he was cold and wet, which is not a preferred state. “A little fresh kibble might ameliorate my mood.” I did as I was told. Always do.

It’s 50 degrees F, November 5, 2022, and raining. We turn back the digits and clock hand tonight, if you do that sort of thing. Well, tomorrow morning, actually. as the deed is done in that nether region that’s both late night and early morning, depending on where you stand on the spectrum about when night and morning literally begin. Today’s high will be 51 F. See, that’s the day’s nature, a balance by degrees here.

“Rock Me Baby” is in my morning mental music stream. This song has been around my entire life. B.B. King’s cover was a hit in 1964 and became his signature song. A blues standard, many artists have covered and recorded it. B.B.’ version was inducted into the rock and roll hall of fame. His arrangement is what’s in my head today, but the cover is by Etta James and Stephen Stills, with the Roots. I’m a fan of all three of those entities, so when I found a recording from 1983 of them doing this song, I sat and listened. The Neurons have nothing to do with my theme music choice for a change.

Well, hope you enjoy it. Give everyone my regards. Stay positive and test negative. The coffee man (that’s me) has delivered. Time to imbibe. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Entering our consciousness just after midnight, Wednesday, October 26, 2022, sailed in under a gray curtain of rain and trumpets of gusty winds. Sunlight’s arrival at 7:36 AM brought up pre-winter conditions. Frost advisories have been kicked out. Temperatures are dropping. Lovely rain extended its visitation rights. Streams and creeks grow swollen with contributions out of mountains, gutters, and drain systems.

It’s 5 degrees C right now. We’re told — and they’re usually pretty close on these things — 51 F will be seen by the afternoon. The sun’s departure at 6:13 PM will kick the temperature back down the stairs toward the lower thirties.

We were reflecting on Halloween’s approach. Until last week, it felt like summer here. Trees hadn’t turned, temperatures remained in the eighties, sunshine and blue skies lorded over the valley. Summer, right? Then a cosmic meteorological switch was turned and autumn crashed down. Suddenly, summer was gone and, hello, it’s Halloween? What? Seriously?

And now October is finalizing its last day plans. Enjoy it while you can. I don’t want to be a spoiler, but I can tell you that there will be a change next Tuesday.

A cat inspired The Neurons for today’s music. Papi, energetic from being housebound when the rains and temperatures dropped suddenly declared last night, “Enough of this! I want out!” Yes, I warned him, it’s no longer summer out there. But he’s a cat. Did he listen? Of course he did. But he ignored me. Because he’s a cat and ruler of whatever he thinks he can get away with ruling.

So he went out. And came back in. And wanted back out. No, in! Out! In! Out! Well, yeah, by the fourth time, I refused to play the game. But my wife was awoken by his efforts to get in and did his bidding, only for him to come to me and say, with pleading eyes, “Please, sir, let me out.”

At some point in all this, I told him, “I love you but you’re driving me crazy.” Well, yeah, Der Neurons liked that and fired up some Sammy Hagar in the morning mental music stream. His song, “Your Love Is Driving Me Crazy” (1983), has been playing in my head since serious dark thirty.

Although October may be ending (or maybe not!), keep wearing your positive pants. You know the ones, the ones which you’ve decided brings you good luck because you got a free coffee once when you were wearing them and people compliment you and are nicer, and you were told you got a promotion that one time, and you always get better traffic flow when you have them on, seriously. Also, continue to test negative.

I’m up for coffee. Anyone else? Here’s Sammy. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

When they finally broke through to the other side and the dust cleared, they found a material world with many boulevards of broken dreams. No matter; it was Saturday, August 27, 2022. They had that going for them, if nothing else.

It’s overcast in my swath of the world. Though the day advanced with the sun cresting the eastern mountains at 6:31 AM, the sun’s warmth is remote and oblique. 18 C now, we expect 83 F to be the temperature’s peak. Night will take over at 7:53 this evening, when the sun ‘moves on’ as the world turns.

For music, The Neurons are plying the morning mental music stream with a song from Peter Gabriel. Named “Blood of Eden”, you might expect it to be an energetic, uplifting, hard rocker. Surprisingly, it’s not. (Yes, you correctly detected snark. Good for you. You must have already had coffee.) I’ve always been a Peter Gabiel fan. This 1983 song was another one which prompted me to listen carefully as my brain asked, “Wait, what’s he saying?” The Neurons restored the song to active presence in my mind after overhearing an older man and woman chatting over coffee. He said in response to her reply, “She said that she can’t afford the insurance.” And while my brain remained engaged on its task, The Neurons took up that line and hooked it up with the “Blood of Eden” lyric, “I cannot get insurance anymore. They don’t take credit, only gold.” That’s just how The Neurons play.

My coffee is at hand. I wasn’t always a coffee drinker. Didn’t start that until around fifth, sixth grade, while visiting a friend’s house. We had the same first name, Michael, although he was a Mike. People habitually said, here’s Michael and Mike, or M and M. Mike used to have coffee with a lot of sugar and cream. I only drank it this way a few times, always at his house. When our compasses took us in different directions, I quit drinking coffee and didn’t resume until I was twenty and in the military. Even then, I was only an occasional imbiber of the black brew, usually on midnight shifts. I became a regular drinker when I went off shifts and became the Training NCO. My boss would come in each morning and say, “Let’s go get coffee.” That’s where the habit really developed for me. That was at Kadena on Okinawa, after I’d been there a few years, so I was twenty-seven. My relationship with coffee blossomed. By the time I reached Germany a few years later, I was identified as a hard-core coffee drinker.

BTW, the coffee was bought at an Army & Air Force Exchange Services cafeteria upstairs from the command post where I worked. It cost ninety cents.

Stay positive and test negative. Take care of your family, community, tribe, and self. Here’s the music. Cheers

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