Tuesday’s Theme Music

Tuesday’s sun beats in the dawn with a hot flash at 5:37. We rise, another day older, deeper in debt. Well, some. Your condition may vary.

So has begun 6/29/2021, much like other days have begun. Let’s talk about the weather. Discuss world affairs. Lament politics. Recall game delights and heartbreaks. Let’s huddle by Zooms and perch in cubes, hunker in offices, rush to flights, beat the traffic, and drink to that. Let’s pursue the dream like smoke in a valley. Train for the impossible. Gird ourselves for the effort. Drink the Kool-aid and move on.

Sunset should bring its mercy at 8:51 PM. Temperatures today are lower. Some claim we will break triple digits. Others say, no that barrier is safe. Yesterday’s scorcher saw 113 to 118 around here. Then, strange salvation from a wildfire down south, the Lava Fire by Weed in California. Smoke drove in along I-5, cutting the solar influence, giving us an early respite. Flipside, air quality went from good and clear to moderate, start watching out.

I’ve been awakening with the melodic strains of Kansas, “Dust in the Wind”, occupying my brain’s whorls. Wonder each day, are dreams calling it out, conscious thoughts inviting the song to the party, something wired in my brain, or just serendipity? Maybe when I die, I’ll go to this great exchange, the Afterlife Market, where all your life mysteries can be seen and explained. You can know just what happened when that girl ignored you, you didn’t get that promotion, a cousin disappeared one quiet night after a party, or why Mom went mad. The truth is in there. You can learn everything you want at the Afterlife Market.

As with other mornings, “Dust in the Wind” gives way to other tunes. An old favorite has hurried in. I played it once before as my theme music. Think I’ll do it again today. Remember, stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, can the vax when you can. Thanks.

Here’s Molly Hatchet with their 1979 offering, “Flirtin’ with Disaster”.

We’re flirtin’ with disaster, ya’ll know what I mean
And the way we run our lives it makes no sense to me
I don’t know about yourself or what you want to be, yeah
When we gamble with our time we choose our destiny

h/t to Genius.com


The Ice Cream Dream

I was terribly sick in a dream. Not at first, though. First, ice cream chaos reigned. Ice cream was due to be served to people but supply issues and disorganization plagued the effort. Growing urgently angry, I stepped in to straighten everything out. The ice cream were mostly in little sealed cups. Varieties of flavors abounded. I tasted several before stepping in to fix the issues, and the ice creams were creamy and tasty. I felt I needed to step in because the incompetence on display insulted my sensibilities. Ice cream was being dropped everywhere. Melting. People were going without ice cream. That shouldn’t be, I thought. We have so much ice cream. Too much ice cream is being wasted.

I began organizing pods of people. Some were collecting the ice cream and taking them to marshaling points. Others were handing the ice cream out. Yet, people kept failing at their duties. Despite my efforts, the situation seemed as worse. I worked harder, faster, more demanding. Still no respite from the shortages and errors. The head honcho came down wanting to know the situation. I tried smoothing things over. He believed and accepted. Then he told me, “A little girl is at the front, Piper. Make sure she gets an ice cream.”

Right. I’d get right on that. I plunged my hands into a tub of ice cream cups. OMG, they were all warm. They’d all been opened, too. WTF! The honcho came back, shouting, “Where’s the ice cream for Piper?” “I’m on it,” I shouted back, then cursed, shouting, “All these ice creams have been opened. Why were they opened? Find me one that hasn’t been opened and take it up front to Piper.”

At that moment is when I began feeling sick. I rushed to a toilet, yanking my shorts down as I went. Too late; crap spilled out everywhere. The honcho came back and saw. “Oh, my, let me get someone to clean you up.” I replied, “We’re still looking for ice cream for Piper.”

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