Wednesday’s Theme Music

1978.

This song seemed everywhere for a while, but it’s one of those that’s been put on the bottom of the pile. It doesn’t seem to get much air play these days. Did its mix of acoustic and electric guitars not age well?

“Fooling Yourself (Angry Young Man)” by Styx rose through my mind’s layers as I read political news from the right about how great Trump is. Absolutely everything, from this young man’s point of view, was brilliant. Trump, to him, is powerful and intelligent, returning the United States to a position of international prestige and influence.

COVID-19? Why, that’s overhyped, as Trump just proved, in the young (his claim – I don’t know how old he is, just his claims) right-winger’s mind. No worse than the flu and already going away. No, the greatest threat to America comes from “libtards” and their willingness to give everything away (he believes “Obama destroyed America and the economy”). Further, Trump’s recent sickness was really just a cover for him to rise up and finally vanquish the Dems and “libtards”.

Okay.

So, yes, reading him, I thought, “You are really fooling yourself.” I can’t say that he’s under a rock; no, he’s fooling himself with his conviction that everything on the “lamestream media” is fake news. I don’t understand how they — these right-wingers who insist everything is fake news — receives the real news. That’s an opaque process. So, I reiterate, he’s fooling himself.

Which brings me back to Styx’s 1978 song, “Fooling Yourself (Angry Young Man)” from their album, The Grand Illusion. For my part, I think Trump’s claims about what he’s done is just grand illusion. Maybe it’s just me fooling myself.

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Three songs have been jumping in and out of my attention stream during the preceding twelve hours. You may have heard of them: “Purple Rain” by Prince, “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy” by Rod Stewart, and “Hot Stuff” by Donna Summers. All were pop hits in their respective years, 1984, 1978, and 1979.

Each had a different reason for being in my head. “Purple Rain” was kicked into mind by a photo of Jacaranda trees in South Africa on Facebook. Purple dominated in beautiful fashion, stirring thoughts of Prince’s song. It’s a glorious, hopeful song from my perspective.

“Hot Stuff” came about from my spicy dinner burrito. I bit into something and my taste buds squeaked, “Hot stuff.” The song then gained traction from its use in the 1997 movie, The Fully Monty”. Four of the main characters are in line in the unemployment office during a low point in the movie. The song comes as background music, and they grudgingly start moving and dancing to it.

“Do Ya Think I’m Sexy” just popped into my head, though. A spoof on the disco scene, the song was ubiquitous that year, heard on television and radio, a staple in humor from people on the streets to late night comedians.

While three strong choices are there as amusement for my head and theme song for the day, “Purple Rain” wins.

Honey, I know, I know, I know times are changin’
It’s time we all reach out for something new
That means you too
You say you want a leader
but you can’t seem to make up
your mind
And I think you better close it
and let me guide you to
the purple rain

h/t to Metrolyrics.com

Yep, the times are changin’. Time to reach out for something new in 2020.

Sunday’s Theme Music

I’d been writing and reading yesterday. Returning to this world was like being a ball and having all my air slowly released. I felt disconnected and out of sync, and wanted to return to the book worlds.

There were things to do. Eating, errands, housework. When I drift off into the writing/reading world like this, my wife seems to grow annoyed. I suspect she wants me to do more around the house, be more social, talk more. This is how she defines humans and husbands, so I end up being short on both scales. I’m happy but she’s resentful. Or so it feels.

A song from my youth answered my thoughts. “Eight Miles High” by the Byrds came out in 1966. I was ten. Its psychedelic sound appealed to me back then. So did the lyrics, which come into play with my feelings.

Eight miles high, and when you touch down
You’ll find that it’s stranger than known

h/t to Genius.com

Yeah, I felt like I’d touched down, and it all seemed strange.

Thursday’s Theme Music

Fresh out of 1998 and through my mental stream (it’s almost like I’m still there — and maybe I am, given how reality might work) came the New Radicals and “You Get What You Give”.

All of it was triggered by thought. They had an interesting line at the beginning, “Wake up, kids, we’ve got the dreamers’ disease.” Hey, I was trying to wake up (and a cat was putting paw to face to help). I feel like most writers have the dreamers disease (it depends on your definition, doesn’t it?). No, I’m not defining it. Define it yourselves, you lazy sods.

Many people remember the song for later lines. As an anti-corporate, anti-conforming song, the last lines are delivered in a different manner from the previous, calls out some celebrities as fakes, and threatens them. Kind of funny, but about as bogus as the stuff that they’re protesting, innit?

Health insurance, rip-off flying
FDA, big bankers buying
Fake computer crashes dining
Cloning while they’re multiplying

Fashion shoots with Beck and Hanson
Courtney Love and Marilyn Manson
You’re all fakes, run to your mansions
Come around, we’ll kick your asses!

I also remember the song for other parts, like, “First we run, then we laugh ’til we cry.” I’ve had those kind of times, when silliness sweeps you up and carry you off on a sea of endorphins.

Enough. Music, please.

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Musically, I’m living in the past. Not surprising, is it? The music from the past is more connected to me. I used it to celebrate, grieve, love, and learn.

I was also inundated by it in the past. I commuted everyday and took long road trips by car. Although listening to talk radio, sports, and books on tape competed for my attention, many hours were devoted to pop music, including rock.

I don’t commute much any more. COVID-19 has truncated my traveling opportunities. So, I’m less exposed to new music via radio. I could turn it on in the house, but I generally maintain silence through the day. I’m writing and reading, and not interested in distractions. Which is what all those things were on long drives and morning commutes: distractions from the tedium.

Anyway, this morning found me channeling the 1976 Doobie Brothers song, “Taking It to the Streets”. This is a response to the presidential debates last night. “Oh, you. Telling me the things you’re going to do for me. I’m not blind and don’t like what I think I see.”

I always like videos of live shows, when I can, so I’m sharing a 1982 video of their farewell tour. The band’s energy can often be vicariously experienced, and it makes me smile to see them all young and vibrant once again, you know?

Cheers

Locked Out of Twitter

I found myself locked out of Twitter this morning. They said that one of my posts violated their standards. They showed me the post:

FACT CHECK: VIRAL IMAGE FALSELY CLAIMS TO SHOW UNOPENED 2020 MAIL-IN BALLOTS IN A CALIFORNIA DUMPSTER

Oh, no, Twitter. I’ve offended your sensiblities by sharing an article debunking false information being spread? Shame on me.

Yeah, really, shame on you, Twitter. No, no, calm down, Michael; I know someone could have overzealously and erroneously marked this, that this could be simple human error. I know that on an intellectual basis, but on more primal levels, my mind screams, “You don’t want the truth about false information being spread to be put out there? What’s wrong with you morons?”

Naturally, I declined the opportunity to remove the post Twitter found offensive. I read their guidelines to see how this violated them. It didn’t. Again, either someone misread the article, didn’t read the article and made assumptions about it, or inadvertently blocked.

Now — after ‘proving I wasn’t a bot’ by clicking on a box — the matter has been turned over to the bureaucracy. I’ve always hated the bureaucracy. I became a champion of fighting it in the military and continued it in my civilian life after retirement. Like other bureaucracies encountered in governments, banks, Facebook, Google (and Alphabet), whatever, I’ll probably never hear back. They won’t change and rarely admit error. Even less frequently, they apologize for their behavior. Will my account be unlocked? Don’t know. That’s up to them, isn’t it? The bureaucratic beast holds all the power.

Have a better one. Cheers

t

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Michael Hutchence of INXS was singing “This what you need, I’ll give you what you need,” in my head. It’s out of their 1986 song, “What You Need”.

I was whispering it to myself as coffee brewed and filled the cup with potential, singing its aroma to my nose. This paints sort of a desperate and tragic portrait of me, maybe, a coffee junket hovering over the brewing process, stalking that first hit — I mean, sip.

I enjoy the song, “What You Need”, and its eclectic blend of funky riffs, guitar rock, dance beat, and rising sax. It’s a song that always lifts me like a good cup of fresh black coffee.

Yeah, baby, give me what I need.

Monday’s Theme Music

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.

Sunday’s Theme Music

Not light music today. Looked at the news landscape and thought, there’s a lot of psychopaths out there, a realization that let the 1977 Talking Heads song, “Psycho Killer”, stream into my mind. A repeat song but it could be the theme music for an entire body of uncaring people who lack empathy and are willing to kill in the name of their love, you know? I liked it up, and it’s been almost three years since I last used it as a theme song. That gives me license in my mind (which is where I’m making up these rules in the first place) to use it again.

Yeah, that is all.

Most Disturbing

Our local disaster, the Almeda Fire of earlier this month, issues numerous disturbing points for anyone who thinks about cause, effect, and results.

  1. To summarize, ours isn’t the worst disaster of the fire season. Not the largest, nor longest burning. Fast and brutal, it destroyed a few Ashland homes (my town, about two miles from my house). Then, egged on by high winds, it went north and west and destroyed two small neighboring towns, Talent and Phoenix, and terrorized Medford. Thousands of structures were destroyed. Thousands of people are displaced.
  2. While the fire was being fought, water ran out. The fire hydrants literally ran out of water. Multiple and simultaneous demands killed water pressure. That lack of water pressure meant first, no more water to fight fires, and second, potentially contaminated several towns’ drinking water. Boil warnings were issued.
  3. We have sirens and emergency systems set up in Jackson County and Ashland. Neither were used. Why? As the fire spread, evacuation orders were issued for one neighborhood. The entire city (and the county) was put on Level 1 evacuation orders, which means, be ready to go. But the Sheriff didn’t want the emergency warnings used; he didn’t want to cause panic. So instead of using those two systems, they did nothing. We were left in an information vacuum.
  4. Spectrum’s internet (and cable TV and landline systems) went down. A major cable burned through. Those of us still with Internet were able to log on. Facebook, and a local community group, became the most valued source of information. This was basically done by monitoring other cities and towns’ emergency orders to pass on to Ashlanders what was happening. That group, which already did a great job, is now asking, what can we do better? Love the proactive approach.
  5. Cell phone capability was compromised as the fire burned down several regional cell towers.
  6. The unscathed rallied to help the survivors. Money, food, clothing, batteries, telephone chargers, water, etc., were donated.
  7. Most of the money donated through the United Way and the Red Cross remain tied up in bureaucracy. Want help? Go to them. People who’ve lost everything were being directed to go hunt down the Red Cross and United Way and apply for help.
  8. Red Cross did set up at the Expo Center, where other agencies were set up. Here’s a classic tale, though. A man got onto Facebook and told the Red Cross there, hey, we don’t have transportation. We can’t get to you. Their response: call the national hotline. The national hotline’s response: call your local chapter. A local Red Cross worker finally woke up and said, I’ll get you help. It shouldn’t be so damn hard, though.
  9. Meanwhile, FEMA has become a joke. Their guidance is to apply. Then, if you’re turned down, apply again. And if you’re turned down again, keep applying until you’re approved.
  10. How fucking broken is FEMA that their standard operating procedure seems to be to initially reject people but, you know, keep trying. Savage, especially for people who have lost everything, their paperwork, clothing, and the mobile and manufactured homes that they lived in. They were already just hanging on, keeping their heads high enough to avoid being sucked under, and this agency, established to help survivors after a disaster, prove to be inept and bungling. Infuriating.
  11. *snark alert* One noble local business, a storage place, told their renters that everyone needs to come in and clean up their space. By the way, they’re still charging the full amount for the month. Sounds like good fucking people, right?
  12. Should write about the animals, but don’t want to. It’s painful. Many people prize their animals above everything else. Now they’re scrambling to find them. Animals are being found, fed, treated, etc. Communities have been set up online to share photos, sightings, descriptions, etc. It’s a huge, sprawling mess, though. There must be a way to do it better. I end up getting diverted, looking through descriptions of lost pets and thinking, I saw that animal listed on another page, didn’t I? Then I go looking, usually without success.
  13. Some pets have been re-united, and those are noted as success. It’s also noted when animals have crossed the rainbow bridge.
  14. The photos of singed, burnt surviving animals rip your guts, you know?
  15. Think of all the services that you use. Gas, water, trash pickup, electric, banking, credit cards, phone, Internet. All needed to be called to be told, “Hello, my home burned down.” In the case of Internet, gas, and electric, they needed to be told, shut off those services and please don’t charge me. For banking and credit cards, it was sometimes, watch for fraud or send me new cards.
  16. A bright spot emerged from the local restaurants. Many locally owned places in Ashland said, you need a meal, come in and tell us, no charge, no questions asked. We’re here for you. A few made hundreds of meals and went off to the evacuation points and served them. Other businesses, schools, and churches set their parking lots up as socially distanced places where people can park and sleep, opening up their restrooms and showers (when available) for people to use 24/7.

There is more, but you know, that’s enough for one September Saturday. Be safe. Enjoy your day. Take care.

And please wear your damn mask.

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