Hi, fellow space voyagers. It’s Monday, March 25, 2024, on spaceship Earth. Rainy out here in Ashlandia this morning, the weather gods are now throwing sunshine our way. It’s 52 F.
I have bust a move in mind this morning. I awoke to dull sunlight pressing forward through the blinds. Tucker was asleep beside me. After checking the time, I told him, “Come on, time to bust a move. Or at least, go pee.”
As I took care of business, I thought of that expression, bust a move. The Neurons immediately activated the song “Busta Move” in my morning mental music stream (Trademark imploding). “Busta Move” was released by Young MC in 1989 and was quickly a hit and a dance floor favorite.
But I was thinking about the origins of the expression, “bust a move”. It seemed like we were using it before the song came out. It just meant, come on, move fast, to me. “Get going.” Then the song came out, and it was about getting up and dancing. Either way, it was about quickly doing something which generally involved a risk. When I thought about it more, it seemed like the Marines I was working with in the mid 1980s were using the expression to mean, come on, let’s go.
Maybe I’m remembering all that wrong but it is declared today’s song. I was telling myself to bust a move in conjunction with plans under contemplation.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote blue. I’ve had coffee, thanks. Haven’t finished a cup yet, but it’s my third attempt. Enjoy the music. Let’s busta move. Cheers
Mood: coffeebitious: a hopeful state of mind fed by coffee consumption
Thursday, February 29, 2024, has touched down. The month ends tomorrow, leaving just ten months of 2024 remaining.
I let Papi out at 6:06 this morning, the usual time that he begins crying to leave us. There was enough light that I let him out, suspecting he’d be returning in 20 minutes. Yes, at 6:30, I answered his call to come back in. I noticed it’d been raining and went by Alexa* to inquire about the temperature.
“It’s 44 degrees in Ashland,” she answered. “Today’s high is 44 degrees.”
Oh.
That’s all Fahrenheit, though she didn’t mention it. An hour later, letting Papi back in again, I discovered snowflakes big as silver dollars falling and accumulating. I checked with Alexa about the temp: 34, she told me.
It snowed for an hour more. The northern mountains and ridges were covered down to 3000 feet while the southern view had sparse snow sprinkled over the dark conifers. Now, about 11 AM, a smattering of snow remains but it’s dwindling. The temperature is back up to 41 F. No sun has broken through the sky’s uniformly off-gray cover, but the clouds are thin enough that the sun is almost breaking through. Light rain keeps windshield wipers busy.
Now to the asterisk. Current days, I find myself consulting five different weather sources, including Alexa. I have a home system that seems moderately accurate, but I constantly seek verification of its accuracy. Southern Oregon University has a weather station set up that I also check. A mile away and fifteen hundred feet lower, it’s not good for my location but it features a nice set of historic data for comparisons. A friend has set up a Wunderground station for his house, but he’s on a higher elevation and almost two miles away. Surrounded by trees, living on a mountain’s northern side, his weather varies from mine, but it’s nice to note what another part of town is experiencing. The other two are online offered by browsers and are usually fed by Weather.com. They’re not as accurate for me but they have nice forecast trend models which present some idea of what the weather will be beyond today.
Dreams swarmed my mind last night. At the final dream’s end, I found “I Remember You” filling the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). Written in 1941, I know the song well because I heard it often by different performers while navigating my teens in the 1960s. The song has been covered a lot. Most did it as a torch song. Even the Beatles did it. But the version I best knew was sung by a woman to an up-tempo arrangement. I cannot find that version and don’t know who it was singing it. Nor does Mom know.
That let The Neurons down some, but as I was searching, I came across other interesting songs. One was “I Remember You” by Skid Row, a 1989 power ballad not anything like “I Remember You” with Johhny Mercer’s lyrics. I remember hearing Skid Row’s song on the radio as I drove around to and from work and all that. While searching, I also slid sideways into “Remember (Walking in the Sand)”. The Neurons dished both the Shangri-Las and Aerosmith versions into the MMMS. More interesting to me was Lena Horne singing a song written in 1933, “Stormy Weather”. I knew that song well, too, and her voice and style mesmerized me. So that’s today’s theme music. Although several videos exist of her giving tremendous performances in her youth and middle age, I went with one when she was 80. BTW, it sounds like the guitarist supporting her might have been George Benson. Seems like his style.
Stay strong, lean forward, be positive, and vote, yeah? I’ll do the same, as best as I can. Coffee helps, and I have had a cup so I raring to go. Have a good one. Here’s the music. Cheers
Hello, fellow travelers. Today is Whensday, January 24, 2024. For some reason, when I started typing the date, the autotype tried changing the date to December 19. WTAF?
Moody gray clouds tease rain threats and wrestle with the blue sky. Sunshine shoots between them as the clouds jostle to takeover. There may be factions up in the troposphere, arguing over what the weather should be like in Ashlandia, where the deer are numerous and an annual subject for disagreement in our burg. It’s 52 F and mostly cloudy, and the high should have the thermometer pausing at 56 F. It’s rained and it’s windy and more might be on the way.
Reading some emails this morning, an update from Scottie’s Playground came up: Jesus 2.0/Christopher Titus/Armegeddon Update. Seeing that headline, The Neurons instantly shuffled “Personal Jesus” by Depeche Mode into the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). As Titus mentions, evangelicals have appointed DJT as their own personal Jesus. They tolerantly overlook his lying, cheating on his wives and affairs by declaring, “Everyone has a past,” and threat of violence, and snarl at the rest of us to stop being so mean to TFG and them. They’re just promoting this guy to make the world better, and they know this because god sent him!
While I cite the original Depeche Mode version of “Personal Jesus”, I also recommend and include the 2002 Johnny Cash cover. As his health was falling, JC — that’s Johnny Cash and not Jesus Christ — thoughtfully covered a number of rock songs, bringing a deeply personal delivery to them that makes ’em worth listening and thinking about.
In the means’ while, this is Whensday again because I’m weary of holding my breath and waiting for things to resolve, asking myself (drum roll), when will this be resolved? ‘This’, of course, is the Trump led, MAGA fueled, GOP supported, 3% funded effort to end Democracy in the United States. Whether that’s hyperbola is part of the whole Whensday question. We already know from experience that DJT was a sadsack of a POTUS, but weirdly, the MAGAs believe he was brilliant. I attribute a chunk of that to asymmetrical expectations.
Asymmetrical expectations were pointed out on Pondering Politics on Youtube when they dissected Gavin Newsome’s recent appearance on Bill Maher. Jessiah points out how differently the world, including the media, responds to the political parties in the US and their leaders when the MAGA segment unleashes a cruelly flavored shit storm versus reactions to when the Democratic side points something out, and Jessiah, our political nerd host, brings receipts. It’s worth a listen, IMO.
Stay pos, be strong, and keep leaning forward. Coffee has been sampled and approved, and is now being guzzled. Here’s the Cash and DM videos. Cheers
I love the mornings, when calm rules, before I get into the news, before the weather shifts. Life outside the windows is firing up on the human side. Machinery is doing its thing somewhere. Loud-voiced neighbors preparing for a trip talk things over, greet passers-by, that sort of thing. A cool breeze teases me into thinking better things are coming.
This is Monday, July 17, 2023. Gonna be in the low 90s again today, although it’s in the 60s F right now. A layer of thin clouds ruled in yesterday and cut our temperature and stirred a breeze. We barely touched 80 F and those breezes were wonderful gifts. Hope others under the heat dome get some breaks, along with those dealing with flooding in India, Japan, and parts of the US.
We were talking about “Sing Along with Mitch”. That would be Mitch Miller. Started as part of a Trivial Pursuit question. Cards were at the table when we were having brunch. My wife and I enjoy asking and answering those question.
One question was, what was the name of Mitch Miller’s backup singers? Neither of us knew. We vividly remembered the show. I looked it up later; it was on in the early 1960s. So, I’m thinking, how do I remember that show so vividly?
The Neurons posted three songs in the morning mental music stream (trademark — what’s that?) competing for Monday’s theme music. First was Tom Petty with “Runnin’ Down A Dream”. Know what that was about? Yeah, trying to remember a dream I’d had. Came after a bit of noodling. Second song was “Whip It” by Devo. Cause I’d gotten up and was organizing things to do in my head. Third offering, “That Smell” by Lynerd Skynerd, which came up when I brewed my morning java. I went with “Running’ Down A Dream” because I liked the energy it brought.
I sooo remember that song coming out in 1989. Stationed in Germany. We were a small flying unit, pretty relaxed and friendly with one another. Rockers dominated. Several officers swept by my office to ask me if I’d heard the new Petty song. Indeed, I had. Soon as, I popped over to the Main Exchange and procured my own CD. They — and their spouses — were a good group of folks.
Time to press on. Stay pos, stay strong, and work the day like it’s made of clay. I’m havin’ my coffee. Love how the hot brew slips into my mouth, chatting up the taste buds as it does its flow, exchanging excited greetings with The Neurons, then washing down, warming my gullet. Good times. Here’s the music. Cheers
After popping the appropriate meds, we woke up as humans on June 15, 2023, a Thursday. As none of us remembered popping the meds, except poor Gerard, all was well. A technical glitch saw the sky as green and the grass and trees were blue, but that was fixed. Everyone but Gerard was given another med to fix their memories.
It’s cool again in Ashlandia this morning, rising from the 40s F to the mid 50s F now. Blue sky now, completely unbroken by clouds. Last night was also clear of clouds and full of astronomical wonders, great to admire as I called Papi. The ginger lord had broken our agreement and was MIA for a while despite calls for his return. He showed up after two plus hours, tall up, happily greeting me as though nothing was amiss, asking for lovin’ and kibble. How could I scold that face? He was back and that mattered.
The Neurons have piped “Yer So Bad” (1989) by Tom Petty into the morning mental music stream. Yes, it’s about Papi. I told him, you’re so bad, and The Neurons said, “You got it, boss.” They always hear a order or request to start a song, whether one was given or not, but they never hear the order/request to stop. I always enjoyed this song’s lyrics about the singer’s sister and her marriage to a yuppie. Some of the later Travelin’ Wilburys songs reminded me of this song. Not a huge surprise, given that Petty is Charlie T. Wilbury, Jr., and Jeff Lynne, who played on the song and produced it, is Otis Wilbury.
Stay pos, fresh and chill. Use coffee. Coffee; it’s what’s for breakfast. Also good for snacks. Here’s the tune.
The wheel has spun and landed on Monday. Again. I feel like it’s rigged. But again, what do we know about what’s going on?
It’s March 27, 2023. 33 degrees F in Ashlandia after the sun showed up sevenish to drive off some of the night’s cold. Not looking like spring, sure doesn’t feel like spring. Cats didn’t even ask to go out this morning. They were all, “Wake me when winter ends.” The weather whisperers think it’ll rain today. High of 44 F degrees before the sun’s setting somewhere after seven PM, and the wheel spins again.
Quiet in Ashlandia, on the surface. Beneath it, arguments, accusations, and debates rage. Southern Oregon University has terminated instructors and cut classes, gutting programs. Oregon Shakespeare Festival’s director is claiming racism and arguments are going on whether it’s true. Their revenue has dropped from $40 million to $4 million. Questions arise, is that right? What happened? What will fuel the comeback? Structural debt lurks in the city’s bloated budget. Parks and Recs want more money and it’s not there. They want to build a new swimming pool for ten million, though the city has one. How many pools does it need? What’s wrong with what we have? Money is needed for a new water treatment plant — or should the current one be repaired and updated? The city hall conundrum rages on, should we build one — where — and where will the money be found? — or can the current building be fixed. Same question is applied to the community center. Behind all of these topics remain the annual usual concerns of water shortages, drought, wildfire, and smoke. Stay tuned; another election has been scheduled for May to address these matters. Meanwhile, the crumbling roads need work.
After reading and reading each side’s take on these matters and more, I have the Pixies singing “Gouge Away” from 1989 in the morning mental music stream…
Stay pos, keep calm, and carry on. Coffee helps me in that regard. Here’s the tune. Hope you enjoy it. Cheers
Sunshine coats our southern and western views. Huzzah, my spirit shows. A cup of coffee is served in celebration.
This might be part of recent weather pattern. Calm, sunny mornings. Winds begin gamboling. Then they start raging. By early evening, rain begins. The rains and winds intensify and slam us throughout the night. They fade away with morning.
Not bad for us. We’re on the edge of the atmospheric river slamming California. Stories from the mountains’ south side are about floods and wind destructions, miracles of lives saved, the tragedy of another death. The other cities just a short distance north and west see little of this. While our monthly and seasonal rain levels surge and our cisterns and dams fill, those other places, such as Medford, fifteen miles away, remains behind on their precipitation levels.
This is 2023, Monday, January 9. Sunset has moved back to 4:57 PM. Sunrise keeps yesterday’s schedule, coming in at 7:39 again this morning. It’s 40 degrees F beyond my windows. Letting a cat in (or was it out?), my nose finds that wintry smell has departed from our place. Today’s high temperature will be balanced out at 54 F.
Today’s theme music sprang from DIY projects. Three projects are lined up. As I walked around and considered them, and the steps I’d take to research them and get them completed, I thought, I’ll find a way. That’s like my motto for 2023 so far. Last week, while editing and reconciliating the novel in progress, I ran into a problem. I will find a way, I told myself, but I knew it wouldn’t happen that day. Anyway, I ended up with that as some lyrics being sung in the morning mental music stream. Eventually a song by Tesla, “Love Song” from 1989, was identified. So here we are.
I remember this song from the regular work and shopping circuit my spouse and I followed in the 1990s. This song was part of the heavy rotation of the stations I rotated through, depending on our moods and what we were pursuing, and the time of day. NPR with “Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me” and “Car Talk” were part of the weekend’s rotation.
Ah, the morning coffee is done. I’ll be on to other Monday things now, if you’ll excuse me. Stay pos, test neg. Here’s Tesla. BTW, this is the first time I’ve seen this video. Although I knew Tesla was part of the ‘Hair Metal’ movement, I’d never seen them and their appearance surprised me. They got the hair, they got the moves, they have the sound. Looking back like this is fun.
If you guessed the temperature in my area would be around 60 degrees F, plus or minus one or two, you’ve been paying attention to the recent posts from me. That’s the temperature now. It’s supposed to again reach 89 F. It actually struck 92 F yesterday. I was so surprised seeing that on my home system. With doubt riding high, I checked several net weather stations. All agreed within a degree either direction.
Riding starlight, Sunday sailed in last night after sunset and took up position, greeting everyone as sunrise joined her at 7:24 this morning. Sunrise was polite, a little sedate but gracious, flowing evenly out from across the eastern horizon in a pale gold-white frock with apricot fluting before shapeshifting into daylight. Sunday is expected to stay until midnight. Daylight will only stay until 6:28 PM. I would say that a better union is responsible for the sun’s shorter hours but must hasten to point out that the sun must do this every day, whereas Sunday is on a seven-day rotation.
I suppose the day and month, 16 and October, and year, have the best gigs. 2022 will pull a one-year tour before declining into memory, but then will never need to work again. The sixteenth shows up every month, every year, while October is working twenty-four/seven for thirty-one days straight, but then takes eleven months off. Don’t know which schedule I’d prefer. I mean, imagine the coffee it would take to go back to work after being off for eleven months. I guess that’s exactly what many felt as the pandemic loosened its hold so they could return to work.
Acting upon something they think they heard, the Neurons have ferreted a song out of my dusty memory. “Kickstart My Heart” by Mötley Crüe (1989) was introduced to the morning mental music stream after I thought, I need some coffee to kickstart my brain. Yeah, the heart could use it as well. See if the pulse could find a little more speed. The Neurons thought that the perfect theme music. I told them that they need to quit being so literal.
Anyway, here’s that music. Keep up a positive charge, and do the things needed to have a negative test result, and then, if that fails you, do the tasks needed to get better quickly and fully. Like bedrest and fluids, and whatever else. You know what I’m talking about. (Funny but The Neurons immediately pulled in that line from ZZ Top and “La Grange”. Those cheeky brain boogerheads.)
Seriously, I’m stepping out for coffee now. Cheers
Sunrise at 7:10 AM barely seemed to break the slumbering land’s mood. Clouds own some responsibility, as do the season, and a general sense that rest is welcomed, so let’s keep doing it. At least, that’s how it felt in this household. Others may have been scenes of mayhem or orderly transitions to daytime routines.
Today is Sunday, September 25, 2022. 54 F outside under a thin gray veil, the air temp will hike up to 69 F before the sun bows out at 7:13 PM.
Mom continues displaying evidence that she’s doing much better. Yesterday was pill organization day one. Today will be day two of the monthly event, where she sits and doles out the pills into pill planning boxes for morning, breakfast, afternoon, evening, and bedtime. She is organized with it, with abundant notes about what and when to take them and what symptom or problem each addresses.
Meanwhile, her BF went shopping together. They’ve lived together for seventeen years. Neither wanted to marry, though they love each other. So, he is officially her fiancée. I usually refer to him as her partner. He’s a good guy and I’m pleased they’re together. He is 92 years old but energetic and earnest.
He went shopping. He does all their shopping. Guess I should mention that he has a sweet tooth. LOVES donuts. Works out at the gym a few times a week to keep fat off. The stuff he brings home, though. I’m, like, gosh, I can’t eat that caramel pie. No, Sock It To Me Cake. I’ll pass, coffee rolls, cinnamon rolls, donuts, and cookies. But it be hard. I tell my wife about this food and she wonders, “OMG, how do they stay fit and alive?” How, indeed.
Hence, today’s song is, almost naturally, “U Can’t Touch This”. Didn’t even need The Neurons to tell me this. MC Hammer, in his colorful parachute pants and fascinating dance moves, had a hit with it in 1989. It won awards and was played without mercy for a while, as radio and television is wont to do when something catches big. My mind grabbed the lyrics and music when I saw all those goodies and few days ago and my stomach told my brain, “Give me some pie.” When I said no, the stomach pleaded for at least a donut. “Uh, huh,” the brain answered. “Can’t touch it.” And there we were.
Stay positive, test negative, and so forth. Now, it’s coffee time. Get down.
He read about the droughts in England, Italy, and France. Fires in France rage. Italy’s Po River is drying up. Meanwhile, toxic chemical waste in the Oder River in Poland and France is causing a huge fish die off. Drought has caused the River Thames source to move East.
Parts of Australia are suffering drought and low precipitation. A record heatwave in July baked the US. Wildfires burn in the US, including Hawaii, as fifty percent of the country experiences drought. America’s west is suffering from a record megadrought. Record floods caused massive damage in Yellowstone and Yosemite National Parks. The Colorado River is drying up. Lake Mead is at its lowest level since 1937. Lake Powell is dropping to deadpool status, where the water level will be too low for water to flow from the dam. Flooding in Kentucky and West Virginia caused death and substantial damage. Investors are scrambling to exploit the exposed earth as glaciers melt and recede.
World food prices are going up as crops dry up and wither, weather disasters strike, and harvests shrink.
Reading all this news, he thought of Billy Joel’s 1989 song, “We Didn’t Start the Fire”. In Billy Joel’s song, they were at least trying to fight it. Too many now seem to be fighting against fighting it.
Michael Seidel, writer 