Sorry, but I have an ear floof pestering me this morning. It’s on a loop singing U2’s “The Sweetest Thing” (1998) or 1987 – it was a B side originally, and was then released again). Of course, it’s the same verse (with backup vocals and strings) caught in the mental music stream.
Blue-eyed boy meets a brown-eyed girl Oh oh oh, the sweetest thing You can sew it up but you still see the tear Oh oh oh, the sweetest thing Baby’s got blue skies up ahead And in this I’m a rain cloud You know we got a stormy kind of love Oh oh oh, the sweetest thing Yeah
So, I foist it upon thee to silence the singing floof in me.
Abject apologies. I’ve used this song before as the theme choice, just over thirteen months ago. It was dream fallout then. I had a multiple, vivid dreams last night, but have no reason to ascribe it to the dreams this year.
Once again, a cat is inspiring the theme music choice.
Today’s song arrived with a cat’s request in false dawn’s weak light, “Hey, feed me.”
“Eat kibble.” He’d awakened me, so naturally, my bladder said, “Well, as long as you’re awake, you might as well get up and pee.”
I eyed the kibble bowl as I wobbled past. “There’s kibble.”
Sitting down outside the bathroom, he waited. When I came out, he gave me a look with hungry eyes. “Please, sir, I am oh so hungry.”
I sighed. “Come on, youngblood,” a nickname for Papi, my young ginger.
Oh, the joy he displayed. Tail shot up as he dashed past, purrs and mews filling the space.
So here it is, “Hungry Eyes” by Eric Carmen, 1987. I’m probably as familiar with it as much from the movie, “Dirty Dancing”, as the radio. Starring Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey in the prominent roles, “Dirty Dancing” was a large hit. We ended up with the album of songs from it, so I heard it alot.
Sorry, but it’s sort of a quasi-politically inspired song again. (Wow, such a wishy-washy caveat and apology.) There’s also a writing angle.
Thinking about not just Trump but about life in general summoned John Mellencamp’s 1987 song, “Paper in Fire” to mind. I was thinking about aspirations and permanency and how often what people do amount to nothing or disappear like…well, like paper in fire.
And the days of vanity Went on forever And he saw his days burn up Like paper in fire
Trump comes into this because of the vanity angle. He couldn’t govern and lead by getting legislation probably passed and put into place as law. Part of this was that he didn’t want to share glory. He wanted to be the one who was seen to originate the idea, to demonstrate his smarts. As he couldn’t, he instead used executive orders or chose not to enforce laws. Many of the executive orders meant almost nothing except to signal his desire, but others of them actively circumvented due process.
Much of what Trump seemed to be to appeal to his base. He loved their adoration. His actions and words were a reflection of that vanity.
Of course, Joe Biden intends to countermand Trump with more executive orders. This ends up in a cycle that creates a stronger executive branch to the detriment of the other branches, breaking the system of checks and balances. It becomes more dysfunctional and less stable and sustainable.
Of course, part of all this is the existential logjam that’s taking place in Congress. Democrats in the House pass bills, with partisan votes, but Republican McConnell in the Senate won’t bring them forward for action.
Beyond that, many of our individual dreams are like paper in fire. We diligently pursue them but they often come to little or no fruition, disappearing after we stop like paper in fire.
Sounds like it might be unhappy thinking. It’s not. We had our first snow dust this morning. Peering out at the cold scene with coffee in hand prompted reflection. Besides Trump and the US government, I also considered my characters and their motivations and dreams. They’re mostly in survivor or service roles even as unusual and unique issues impact them. In many ways, while they affect what happens in their world, their names will disappear like paper in fire.
So, there it is. Good rock tune with an Appalachian musical vibe. Hope you enjoy it and that you’re having a good one. Wear a mask, please. Cheers
A dozen dreams and a dozen songs rock my mind’s caverns and cesspools this morning. Mostly old songs because I’m in the realm of being an old guy. Whether you’re old depends on not just your attitude but also your scale. When you’re twenty, fifty seems old. At sixty-four, I don’t feel/seem young to myself. I’m sure advertisers have a different opinion about it, as do people who are thirty years plus younger, right?
I’m reminded of my mother when I think of age. When she was in her late seventies, she and her fiancée (who was in his early eighties) often went out dancing. They especially loved the big band sound and swing dancing. But she complained about the old people. I told her that some might think of her as old. She replied, “I’m talking about the really old people, the ones who are almost one hundred.”
Thinking of old rock, and old Eric Clapton drifts into my mind on clouds of cigarette smoke. Eric Clapton is one of my rock heroes, you know. And, ‘lo, into my head from the crucible of thoughts emerged a little-known Clapton song, “Tearing Us Apart”. Done as a duet with Tina Turner in 1987, it didn’t receive much airtime, that I know. I came to know it because I’ve bought a lot of Clapton albums and watched him on DVDs. He’s played it a few times with Turner in concert. Today, though, I found a 1996 concert where Sheryl Crow is on vocals with Eric. I liked it and thought I’d share it with you.
I use the phrase “Check it out,” often. Used it all of my life. We used it in the military, along with variations like, “Check this out.”
‘Check it out’ always meant, “Hey, look at this,” or “Notice this,” because it’s something special. In our house most recently, it’s been, “Check it out,” regarding something stupid Trump said/did, but also wildlife wandering through the yard — bucks in the day, skunks at night. Check it out.
My friend, a retired doctor, has more varied wildlife at his place. Although just a mile away, it seems further. He sends video of wildlife caught via a trail cam. Check it out, says his email subject line, and it’s a video two cubs nursing on mama bear a yard away from the camera. Or it’s a big bear scratching his back on a pine, another bear taking shelter from a rainstorm. Once in a while, it’s a cougar or fox taking a stroll.
John Cougar, who became John Cougar Mellencamp, who became John Mellencamp (the name he was given at birth), made a song of it in 1987. I saw him perform it in a soccer stadium in Germany the next year, a good show.
Took a walk into the steep hills of southern Ashland, where you lean forward like you’re walking into a hurricane gale to progress up the incline. Looking back over the browning valley, across to where vineyards sprawled under a blue sky and the Interstate snaked by with semis full of goods, the song, “Bullet the Blue Sky” by Oasis (1987) stole out of memory into consciousness.
And i can see the fighter planes i can see the fighter planes Across the mudhuts as the children sleep Through the alleys of a quiet city street up the staircase to the first floor Turn the key and slowly unlock the door A man breathes into a saxophone Through the walls we hear the city groan Outside is America Outside is America
Not surprising. I’d be writing in my head as I walked, picking up where I’d stopped for the day, moving the chains to the next day. As my story companions travel, they stop and watch things and wonder.
Basically, as I was doing today, wondering about the past, the future, the present, politics, you know…the world.
Using the post to rid myself of a song. Heart’s power ballad, “Alone” (1987) fired into the stream shortly after I rose for the day. Why? Don’t know. Although I had many and complicated dreams, this song wasn’t featured (no, that was Cyndi Lauper’s “All Through the Night”).
So, to dislodge “Alone”, I must foist it onto the blog and send it back into the ether from whence it came. Does sort of fit with things – you know, waiting, wondering, clock ticking – and questioning. Little bit of a stretch.
A friend related her tale of venturing out to a store. Her recounting triggered jungle songs. So here we are – “Welcome to the Jungle” (GNR, 1987), “Jungle Boogie” (Kool and the Gang, 1973, here on “Soul Train”), and “Run Through the Jungle” (CCR, 1970). I think each song speaks for its niche with its musical style, but each convey the jungle with slight variations. Behind them all, though, is the sense that the civilized human scene is a jungle of wild menace. Kind of like that out there, although I haven’t heard stories of violence. I guess it’s not as much of a jungle as it was on, say, black Friday.
I have a habit now of waking up and reminding myself of the day and date. Just wanna ensure I don’t forget them.
We played dance music yesterday and danced around as we finished the jigsaw puzzle. Not so easy for many others out there. So, in a sappy way, this is for them.
From a simpler time (and another decade), here’s the wonderful Whitney Houston with “I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me)” (1987).
Clock strikes upon the hour
And the sun begins to fade
Still enough time to figure out
How to chase my blues away
I’ve done alright up ’til now
It’s the light of day that shows me how
And when the night falls
In Costco yesterday. It was a convenience stop for us. It’s down the Interstate, so if we go over there, we generally stop in. Nothing essential was required. We gassed up and bought mixed nuts looked at the books. Their book selection has significantly changed, and it’s disappointing to us.
Costco was busy despite its new ‘no food samples’ policy. Costco was ready for it with every register manned (and do you know that Costco now has self-checkout registers?). I heard at least three mothers tell their children, “Don’t touch anything. Keep to your hands to yourself.” Those are words I used to hear all the time, but had seemed to fade away as parenting styles changed. Was it always being said, and I missed it? Or was it being revived as part of Coronavirus awareness?
Saw perhaps a half dozen people (including employees) wearing gloves, and about five wearing masks. I wondered, thinking about the cancellations of multiple world events, the corporation’s shutdown on travel (airlines are losing money), what was going to be the effect on Costco’s stock? On the one hand, business is booming. On the other, the global supply chain on which it depends and the consumerism that fuels it are going to be slammed. (Costco and other corporations have already said they’re scrambling to find supplies, but where do you turn in a global crisis?)
At the intersection of these observations, R.E.M.’s 1987 release, “It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)” was released into my stream.
It’s the end of the world as we know it (I had some time alone)
It’s the end of the world as we know it (I had some time alone)
It’s the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine (time I had some time alone)
I feel fine (I feel fine)