Tag: Alan Parsons Project

Sundaz Theme Music

November 2, 2025, has taken hold. It firmly established that today’s season is autumn. Golden leaves are becoming golden brown leaf drifts. Naked branches shiver with the wind. 45 F now, worry not because today’s high will zoom to 57 F. Must say, yesterday’s 68 felt like a faux offering.

We lit a candle for Steve at 5 PM yesterday, per his widow’s request. That flame called to mind Frank, but also Chuck. Chuck is Bonnie’s hubby. I met him but twice, I think. Now he’s into hospice. Mom, meanwhile, has bounced back in a strong way. Physical therapy is being scheduled. This is Mom’s way, to bounce back, gain confidence and strength, only to be zapped by some new fall, injury, or organ issue. Been going on for a decade. Each time she bottoms out, it’s a little deeper, and the crawl out is slower and more energy consuming. We talked together about an actor dying when they were 100, June Lockhart. Mom said, “I don’t think I’ll get anywhere near that,” with glum introspection.

Today’s music is another gift of The Neurons. “I Wouldn’t Want to Be Like You” is a 1977 Alan Parsons Project creation. The song popped up in the morning mental music stream as I read about Trumpy’s Halloween gala, the one thrown while so many sink deeper into food insecurity.

Here are the lyrics, offered up by Songmeanings.

If I had a mind to
I wouldn’t want to think like you
And if I had time to
I wouldn’t want to talk to you

I don’t care
What you do
I wouldn’t want to be like you

If I was high class
I wouldn’t need a buck to pass
And if I was a fall guy
I wouldn’t need no alibi

I don’t care
What you do
I wouldn’t want to be like you

Back on the bottom line
Diggin’ for a lousy dime
If I hit a mother lode
I’d cover anything that showed

I don’t care
What you do
I wouldn’t want to be like you

I did a glance of the news. Did Trump recall the time he landed on the moon? He was the first one there, took the first steps for man, “Beautiful steps,” he said, “everyone told me they were the most perfect steps. They couldn’t believe how perfect they are.”

I imagine that somewhere in Trump’s altered reality, he’s a great friend to people of color and a champion to the poor. Bet he remembers marching across the bridge and standing for integration at Selma. Bet he recalls a time when he landed at Normandy and fought the Germans, who, he thought, “Were pretty good guys, really, just working hard, doing their jobs.” Trump believes with a glint of teary eyes, he is as persecuted as Jesus, nailed to a cross. Then he wipes the tears away, visits his new cold, black and white, dull, creativity-empty bathroom, beaming at its wonderful hard angles and linear symmetry, and then goes out and golfs, because he deserves a break. MAGAts everywhere breathlessly applaud, then hurry to buy meat before the prices go up, happy they have an extra freezer to store it because it’s gonna get pricy, they’ve heard the fake news, scowling at the homeless, stepping around the poor, reminding themselves to clean the house, because cleanliness is next to godliness.

Meanwhile, is that Epstein in the clouds, smirking at Trump, remembering how they used to run together, shaking his head with a laugh and whispering, “Oh, that Donnie. He never changes. He just gets more Donnie.” Perhaps someday they’ll meet and Trump will regale Epstein with details about how he starved the poor during the Great Epstein Government Shutdown of 2025. “You should’ve seen them, Jeffie,” Trump says, then launches into a mocking imitation of a person begging for food. “Please, we’re starving.” The two bodies shake with merriment.

Hope grace and peace find us today and every day. Even for just a nano. Coffee has found me and is shaking hands with some Neurons, making plans. I’m sure they’ll let me know what’s going on in a little bit. Cheers

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Sattyday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sattyfied

Today is October 5, 2024. It’s a Sattyday. For this post, I used the day’s original spelling. Sattyday was so named in the early days of designating days of the week in England after a dog, Satty. This was just as the Saxons were fighting with Dane invaders and trying to establish England. A conversation between warring participants took place in which they postponed the battle, allegedly because Satty was dying and the Saxon leaders wanted to honor the old, faithful companion. The name stuck as a joke but eventually, its origins story became lost for a while. As spelling was standardized around the 12th century, the name became attributed to Saturn, based off existed, earlier Roman calendars. That stuck. Researchers later discovered the true story. Their findings were published the day before Pearl Harbor was attacked, so the story was overcome by the bigger news and lost once again. I later read about it in Reader’s Digest.

It’s 55 F now. We expect to put 30 more degrees on the thermometer (originally named for the cat, Thermo, but that’s another tale) on this day before we strike the high. We’re fluctuating between summer and autumn, the transition season known as autmer. It’s so named because autumn’s features are stronger than summer’s features, whereas sumumn is reversed. Yes, trees are lively with reds in many parts of Ashlandia, and gold leaves abound, all under a sun drenched bright blue sky.

Today’s music is offered by the Alan Parsons Project. It has a straighforward path. Jill on her blog featured the Hollies. One of their songs is “The Air That I Breathe”, a song from my youth which I remember and enjoy. Alan Parson was the engineer on the song, as Jill mentioned. Hence, listening to the song in my morning mental music stream (Trademark engineered), I drifted toward Alan Parsons and then the Alan Parsons Project. As this was on top of reading bizarre and false political news generated by Trump and Vance, The Neurons called up “I Wouldn’t Want to Be Like You” from 1977. As I’d never seen the original video based on the song, I decided to go with that.

BTW, it’s pretty fucking disgusting to me how Vance, Elon Musk, and other MAGAs like Matt Gaetz (who voted against addional FEMA funding just before Helene hit) eagerly embrace the disaster of Hurricane Helene to plant false stories about FEMA trying to stop help to Republican dominated areas. They really have no plans or strategy but to lie and obstruct. Exhibit two from Friday’s news cycle is how Vance was out there denigrating the strong jobs report by claiming that the new jobs don’t matter because they’re just taken by undocumented immigrants (paraphrasing). They’re such craven opportunists with no regard for the truth or facts, and they display this with same consistency as the Earth traveling around the sun. But of course, we know the Republicans aren’t casually lying; they’re brainwashing their base and hope to sway more by their relentless screed.

FEMA Assistance information.

Here’s the music. Be strong, stay positive, and vote blue in 2024. BTW, I made all that up about Satty, as if you didn’t know that, right? Have a better one. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Yesterday, Saturday, July 2, offered us heavy rain, thunder, and lightning. We don’t experience a lot of this in Ashland. As my partner commented, we usually receive a rain like this at the end of July. We do get ‘dry’ thunderstorms, where the clouds pile up over the mountains and then roll across the valley, darkening the sky and dropping the temperature before singing their bass throat music. Far lightning came sometimes be seen. It was all different yesterday, the once-a-year storm that we typically experience.

Today is Sunday, July 3, 2022. It’s cool, just 10 C now, with predictions and forecasts that we’ll reach the upper to mid 70s F. Clouds have blanked the sunshine and blue sky. Mists cuddle up to the tree line on the mountains. The air smells of wet grass, dirt, and bark.

Sunrise was at 5:39 AM. The sun will do its disappearing act about 8:51 PM. Again. That sunset time hasn’t changed since before the solstice.

I went out and listened to the rain, alone, enjoying the smell and sound. Drops hurled down, dashing off the pavement, an unsynchronized drumline in a private public performance. Thunder erratically punctuated moments. As it faded, I enjoyed the silence. No cars, birds, cats, or people. Nothing but me and the storm as it carried its show north and away. The silence was a balm for the day, and I thought, I hope nothing breaks this silence. Just let me have this for a little longer.

Well, The Neurons said, “We know that song.” I replied, “What song?”

They responded with “Don’t Answer Me” by the Alan Parsons Project from 1984. I don’t recall when I’d last heard it. Lines in the song go, “Don’t answer me, don’t break the silence, don’t let me win. Don’t answer me, stay on your island, don’t let me in.” Oh, how The Neurons love playing these word association music games. I think they might be a little compulsive-obsessive about it.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as and when needed and get the boosters as, when, and if you’re able. Time for a morning jolt, you know what I’m saying? Here’s the music. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Song

Sunshine and wind is ruling this Ashland, Oregon, Tuesday morning. The sun rose at 7:39 AM, pushing the air temp up from last night’s low of 29 F to the current 43 F. We’re hoping to hit the mid-fifties before the sun shuts down the day’s operations at 5:10 PM.

“Psychobabble”, a 1982 Alan Parsons Project song, rules the mental musical stream this morning. “Because of dreams?” you ask. Why, yes.

Tell you ’bout a dream that I have every night
Tell you ’bout a Dream that I have every night
It ain’t kodachrome and it isn’t black and white
Take me for a fool if you feel that’s right
Well I’m Never on my own but there’s nobody in sight

I don’t know if I’m scared of the Lightning
Trying to reach me
I can’t turn to the left or the right
I’m too scared to run and I’m too weak to fight
But I don’t Care it’s all psychobabble rap to me

Tell you ’bout a dream that I have every night
It’s in dolby stereo but I never hear it right
Take me for a fool well that’s alright
Well I see the way to go But there isn’t any light

h/t to Songmeanings.com

With COVID-19 pushing out variants with higher transmission rates, hospitals staggering under their loads, and the global death count over two million and still going (400,000 in the U.S. as of this morning), I’d be remiss to not remind you to stay positive, test negative, and wear a mask. Get a vaccine when it comes your way, too.

Enjoy the music.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

It’s Thanksgiving in the United States today, a holiday imbued with myths and traditions, and many memories for someone like me.

I have some wonderful Thanksgiving memories. Mom worked hard to make holidays a success — except Mother’s Day (yeah, d’uh, she took the day off, didn’t she?) — and Thanksgiving was always terrific at her house. Later, in the military, my wife took on the same role. Overseas, she coordinated and orchestrated Thanksgiving dinner among several families, and we always invited the single people to come over so they felt less alone.

I benefited from that, too. My Uncle and his family had me over for Thanksgiving when I was in basic training, saving me from a chowhall dinner. I had a great time with them. There were other Thanksgivings with co-workers’ families a few times when I was stationed overseas on temporary unaccompanied duty, like the time with Tony’s family in the Philippines. There were also a couple chowhall Thanksgivings, though.

All that brought the Alan Parsons Project song, “Time” (1981). It came out the year that we reported for duty in Germany. We lived off based that first year, and it was one of the times when it was just my wife and I. It was still memorable.

Why “Time”? Because of the lines, “But time keeps flowing like a river, to the sea.”

Yep, although it does make me think, there’s a sea of time out there, somewhere.

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Today’s Theme Music

The Alan Parsons Project was a progressive rock band. I enjoyed them, but honestly, lots of my friends didn’t care for them. Apparently the music the Alan Parson Project released was too mellow for that lot. The heyday of their music was in the late seventies, when groups like Kiss and other glam rockers were deafening stadiums of people.

So, I seemed mostly alone in my Alan Parsons Project admiration. One particular song was “Eye In The Sky.” Using this song as inspiration, I wrote a short story about the eye in the sky watching humans. No, it was never sold. It’s probably in a drawer, somewhere, though. I don’t throw writing out. I leave that to others.

Take a listen and see what you think of the song. It came out a little later, in nineteen eighty-two. Let me knows if it moves you to sleep, as it moved my friends. Cheers

 

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Today’s Theme Music

Songs are bouncing through my head. Why today and now?

I don’t know.

They’re happening against the writing, dreaming, holiday, marriage, and life background. Each of those arenas inject their own spectrum of influences. All feel equally strong this week but writing is affecting the others. I’m deeply involved in the novel writing process, so much so that I’m losing track of the calendar and holiday, and I’m withdrawn into my thinking and writing. This, unsurprisingly, triggers my spouse’s deep irritation and some resentment.

I see her point. Yet, that is me, an emotional cripple, and a writer. I write to explore what I think but also what I feel. It leaves me at the crossroads at midnight, waiting to consummate a deal with the devil. I can’t abandon thinking about the novel and its elements of chi-p, Pram, Brett, virii, time-travel and the like. It’s too late for that; the novel’s presence is embedded in my psyche and will likely remain there until the story is fully told.

Yet I look for the leap from my life cycles to the song cycles. I wonder how songs are connected to smells and smells are connected to sights and sights are connected to emotions and emotions are connected to intelligence and intelligence is connected with memory and memory is connected to songs. It’s all wired together but something charges the wires, making some wires come alive, opening and closing switches, and taking me to unexpected places.

Like these songs.

Against the backdrop of writing and living, I’d been thinking about Mike Posner’s song and his lyrics.

I took a pill in Ibiza
To show Avicii I was cool
And when I finally got sober, felt 10 years older
But fuck it, it was something to do
I’m living out in LA
I drive a sports car just to prove
I’m a real big baller ’cause I made a million dollars
And I spend it on girls and shoes

But you don’t wanna be high like me
Never really knowing why like me
You don’t ever wanna step off that roller coaster and be all alone
You don’t wanna ride the bus like this
Never knowing who to trust like this

I was particularly hooked on the lines, ‘But you don’t wanna be high like me, Never knowing why like me’. From there, drifting through the lyrics last night, I awoke today singing:

Tell you ’bout a dream that I have every night
Tell you ’bout a dream that I have every night
It ain’t kodachrome and it isn’t black and white
Take me for a fool if you feel that’s right
Well I’m never on my own but there’s nobody in sight

I don’t know if I’m scared of the lightning
Trying to reach me
I can’t turn to the left or the right
I’m too scared to run and I’m too weak to fight
But I don’t care it’s all psychobabble rap to me

Tell you ’bout a dream that I have every night
It’s in dolby stereo but I never hear it right
Take me for a fool well that’s alright
Well I see the way to go but there isn’t any light

That song is ‘Psychobabble’ by the Alan Parsons Project. The album containing the song was released in 1982. I listened to it on cassette tape while I lived and worked on Kadena Air Base on Okinawa.

I can see how the two songs, Mike Posner’s ‘I Took A Pill in Ibiza’ and Alan Parsons Project’s ‘Psychobabble’ fused in my mind. There’s a thread of questioning identity in both and reflections about our minds and choices. It’s more a question of why those songs nestled into the thinking and feeling about everything else this week.

And as I wrote it, I saw it. These songs arose from the morass because I’m conflicted; because guilt assails me. Because responsibilities and desires are torn and my frustrations are running high.

I thought one of these songs should be today’s theme music for my day. I finally decided to go with ‘Psychobabble’ because it’s more recent. See, it’s the latest one that I’ve been singing.

In my mind.

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