Sunday’s Theme Music

Today’s microexistence is Sunday, Aug 6, 2023. I’m in Ashlandia, where the deer eat everything and many people are annoyed. 70 F now, the bottom line for how high the temperature will go is 89. Sunset and sunrise are now contracting our daylight hours. We’re pushing through August. September lurks, waiting to hustle in autumn for us.

Another night of riotous dreaming was experienced. The most surprising one had me as a young gunman trapped in a suburban house with three others. We had automatic weapons and were in this situation because we’d shot and killed another young man, apparently in conjunction with a gang feud. Now, trapped, we decided we were going to break out blazing and make, a shoot and run to escape. Corporeal I was protesting my dream I’s thinking and behavior, cursing him for being a fool, urging him not to do it. But whatever I urged him not to do, he did it anyway, damn him. Real me couldn’t stop dream me. I twice forced a redo, but it went the same. It felt like the dream scene was my subterranean neurons cooking up a movie to show my battle between different sides of my self.

I awoke, thinking about that dream and others, and ended up ceiling staring in thought. Running with that cue, Der Neurons started streaming “Brian Wilson” by the Bare Naked Ladies (1992) in the morning mental music stream (trademark existential). At least I readily knew the connection this time. One line goes, “So I’m lying here, staring at the ceiling.” Okay, well done, Neurons. Take a mental bow.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of when my wife and I married. Totally other existence when we did, when we were young in 1975. Been a bumpy road. Almost went over a few cliffs. I enjoy her company and have great admiration for who she is. I think she likes me, too, although I exasperate her. Well, she does exasperate me as well. Love is a spectrum, as is hate — hell, marriage and all the emotions are spectrums. We constantly slide back and forth, finding and losing balance, opening and closing the distance between us.

Stay pos, be strong, find the course and follow it, correcting as is needed. Coffee has already slipped past the guards and is supplying The Neurons with needed energy reinforcements. Let’s hear some music.

Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

Rocking out to Bare Naked Ladies “One Week” (1998) in my mindstream as I walked today. Why them? Not sure of the stream’s origins. Here are the lines that were in my mind:

Chickity China the Chinese chicken
You have a drumstick and your brain stops tickin’
Watchin’ X-Files with no lights on
We’re dans la maison
I hope the Smoking Man’s in this one
Like Harrison Ford I’m getting frantic
Like Sting I’m tantric
Like Snickers, guaranteed to satisfy

h/t to azlyrics.com

The song’s weird rap lyrics, strung around the fight between a couple, appeals to me because of its insights. The guy singing it knows how this fight went, and he knows how reconciliation will go, and he’s laughing at it. Most of us develop these insights into relationships. We know the little steps followed between growing annoyance, rising anger, the fight or disagreement, and the subsequent make-up.

It might be today’s sunny weather that kicked this song into the stream. We were house shopping in California when this song was released and rose in 1998. The connections could be that I was thinking, it’s a a beautiful day. Not being satisfied with that, I went on, flashing on sunshine splashing off waves and lamenting, I wish I was at the ocean. That triggered memories of glorious days in Half Moon Bay, where we eventually bought a place to live.

Or, maybe all that is just bullshit, and my mind just heard a noise that triggered the song, and so it began.

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