We’re celebrating Aug 9 2023 in Ashlandia, where the morning is cool and the afternoon is hot in the summer. Nothing special for this day for me, but happy anniversary and birthday to anyone out there celebrating those things. Congratulations on your promotion, your accomplishment. Well done on finishing that task, doing that work, completing that project, writing that book.
Another night where I ran through a complete slate of dreams. Most of it had to do with being in England with my wife, ironic as we’ve both been to England, but not together, and knowing where we were and getting things done. Not a surprising dream, given where I’m at.
I’ve been forced to dig down and try harder on a few things this week. Like others, I have a MO for it; I isolate, cutting access to me, and digging deeper for energy, narrowing my focus to laser intensity. It can be sustained but it’s one of those things that can become ingrained and diminish my satisfaction with life. Better to use it to achieve what’s needed to be done, and then step back and breathe and celebrate the outcome.
With that trying in mind, The Neurons dug Janis Joplin and the Kozmic Blues Band out of the gray vault, pumping “Try (Just A Little Harder)” (1969) into the morning mental music stream (Trademark surreal). While Janis is singing about romance and her man, her exhortations on trying is great stimulation for breathing deep, settling up, and going back in for another determined push. Yeah, in this case, I’m speaking of the solitude and angst of finishing a novel’s first draft.
So here’s a look at Janis and her band on the Dick Cavett show from a day over sixty years ago. Thank you, technology.
Stay strong, be positive, and keep moving it forward. I’ve have some coffee but I might be up for a little more, yeah? Sure. Here’s the music. Cheers
Hey, it’s Fried-day, July 14, 2023. Birthday for one of my late cousins. Years younger than me, cancer claimed her in 2019.
Gonna be hot today here in Ashlandia, where the plays are entertaining and the musicians are local. Not OMG help hot, like AZ’s impressive daily highs, nor Palm Springs 120 F hot, but protect-yourself-family-and-pets hot, 98 F. And that’s why it’s Fried-day.
When I was being educated in the US in the 1960s, attending elementary school, teachers talked about a ‘can-do attitude’. They were always encouraging us to rise up to the challenge and find a way to overcome it. I vividly recall listening to one teacher standing before us rapt, dewy-eyed second-graders as she said, “The can-do attitude helped make America great.” Before we were taught history and learned that the country wasn’t great, that America was flawed. Yet it had to the potential to become greater, if we kept after things with a can-do attitude.
I grew up believing that we can fix things, whether it was injustice, inequality, poverty, or going to the moon. This was in the aftermath of President John F. Kennedy’s assassination. He seemed to empower ‘can-do’ for young me. No, wasn’t perfect, but he was willing to set goals, create a vision, and strive to achieve them.
Now we’re mired in a severe can’t-do existence. Money is typically the ‘can’t-do’ motivation, followed in the US by ‘Founding Fathers’. The Founding Fathers and their vision of a Democracy run by the people, for the people, are thrown up as an obstacle as people stop to think, not what is best by and for the people, but what would the Founding Fathers say and do?
I believe that attitude would have the Founding Fathers appalled. They would ask, “Have you not established a robust education system that helps people? Do you knot know how to think? Do you lack the courage and principles to come together, find solutions and move forward?”
And that’s a big now. Big reason for me, whether it’s about climate change and half the country setting new high records for high temperatures year after year, sensible gun control, or taxes, is that half the country is trying to go backward. Yes, let’s go backwards. Just bury our heads and deny what’s going on.
That shows a true ‘can-do’ spirit.
All of that explains my exasperated mood today.
I woke up with the Looney Tunes theme music in my morning mental music stream. As I went about re-establishing my existence, mocking myself as I fell into my comfortable, middle-class routines once again, The Neurons opened some “Canned Heat” and spilled “Let’s Work Together” into the morning mental music stream (trademark non-existent). The 1970 version of Wilbur Harrison’s take on “Let’s Stick Together” could be an inspiring theme song for promoting a can-do attitude. Feel the energy behind that gravelly voice, courtesy of Bob Hite, as he urges us to work together.
Together we’ll stand Divided we’ll fall Come on now, people Let’s get on the ball
And work together Come on, come on Let’s work together Now, now people Because together we will stand Every boy, every girl and man
People, when things go wrong As they sometimes will And the road you travel It stays all uphill
Let’s work together Come on, come on Let’s work together, ah You know together we will stand Every boy, girl, woman and man
Oh well now, two or three minutes Two or three hours What does it matter now In this life of ours
Let’s work together Come on, come on Let’s work together Now, now people Because together we will stand Every boy, every woman and man
Ah, come on Ah, come on, let’s work together
Well now, make someone happy Make someone smile Let’s all work together And make life worthwhile
Let’s work together Come on, come on Let’s work together Now, now people Because together we will stand Every boy, girl, woman and man
Oh well now, come on you people Walk hand in hand Let’s make this world of ours A good place to stand
You know, we do show the ability to come together. We come together to cheer performers — singers, actors, athletes — to cheer them on. And we come together to cope with disasters. We come together to offer hopes and prayers after mass shootings, floods, wildfires, hurricanes.
Honestly, can’t we begin to find a way to come together before disasters and deaths?
Yeah, I know. It’s all been said before, all been written with more inspiration before, and here we stay, stuck on yesterday, moving toward last century, burning up and and falling down.
Guess I need coffee. Stay pos, if you can, and strong. Wish you the best in whatever situation you face today, tomorrow, next month, next year.
We got you Wednesday here. *wince*. July 5, 2023. Back to work, ye scurvy dogs. 2023 is more than half gone. On the bright side, you have less than half left. *wince* Time is running up on you. You, me, and the rest.
Gonna be 97 F today. *wince*. Good thing it’s Wednesday. Meeting with friends to indulge in some cold beer. We’ve divided between the light and the dark sides. The light side will be partaking of an IPA while the dark side is going for ale, because it’s summer, and some of them don’t like their beer too dark in the summer.
Ah, such strange dreams this morning in the dark hours. *wince*. Don’t know what they meant, if anything. We had root beer floats with friends on their deck last night, another of our traditions. We usually watch fireworks with them. I’d rather not have the fireworks. Animals and environment don’t need that kind.
Fireworks were illegal this year in Ashlandia, where the bus doesn’t go all the way uptown and the children are chauffeured. Too dry and hot. Still beset by drought. Yet, there will be some who will set off their fireworks cause, ‘Merica. Freedom. Tucker didn’t mind them. Papi, though, hid out for hours. He’s okay this morning but he wasn’t a happy floofy last night.
Today’s music is “Stranger Blues” with Steve Miller and Peter Frampton. Just cause I like the sound, and not because of something said last night, causing The Neurons to start playing it, where it still plays in the morning mental music stream.
Stay pos, be chill, and don’t let the boogerheads get you down. Coffee is served, sir. Here’s the music. Enjoy, please.
The pull out of a late winter and snowy sub-seasons of winting and sprinter continues in Ashlandia, where the coffee houses rule. It’s Satitda, a reflection of how I sometimes hear Saturday spoken, April 15, 2023. Would’ve been payday for me in another era, a chance to spend some rubles on a treat, tank up the car, buy grocs, pay more bills. We always paid the bills, watched our expenses, and saved.
Pretty fine day out there, as it was yesterday. Tucker is out nesting in sunshine between bushes, as he did yesterday. Papi selected to come in, deciding grooming on the bed is preferable to the noisy outside where trees are being trimmed or removed at a neighbor’s place. Sunshine has won the morning. It’s a blue-sky 42 F but the weather managers say it’ll be 66 before the daylight segment of our day is drawn down. Sunrise was 6:30 AM and the sun ‘set’ will be at 7:52 PM. No rain for us today. No snow, either.
I have an old blues song circulating my morning mental music stream. It’s all about options and how to get out of a situation. “One Way Out” was recorded by some classic bluesmen but I didn’t hear of their versions until later. Nope, I know the Allman Brothers’ live offering from the early seventies. Part of this way out convo was about talking over some Am I The Asshole entries on Reddit and what people should do. Another take on one way out was while catering to the cats: “This is it. I’m not going to go open another door. There’s one way out right now, and this is it.” The little critters accepted and The Neurons tugged “One Way Out” from memory and here we are.
Stay pos. Enjoy your day as best as you can. I’m going to try to get some things done. More editing, of course, but also some cleaning duties and yard work. I shall begin my list by inhaling a fragrant cuppa coffee. Here’s the tune.
Thursday landed on us. It was a soft landing for me. My brooding, dark mood vanished yesterday afternoon.
It’s already 53 F outside. Winds from the southwest have dropped to 16 MPH and they tell us we’ll see 63 F. For reasons such as mountains and valleys, and high and low pressure systems, the atmospheric river swamping California and gifting us almost a full month’s rain quota is going around us now.
Sunrise wasn’t much to crow about. The earlier light was appreciated, coming in at 7:38 this morning, but it was short on the shine penetrating the cloud base. I’m optimistic some shine will clear the clouds before the sun takes it light elsewhere at 5:01 PM.
This is Thursday, January 12, 2023.
Today’s theme music will be a Jeff Beck song. Jeff Beck passed this week, 78 years old. While some people went for singers, looks, or drummers, I was a lead guitarist fan when I was a young teenager. Five me fast fingers and wailing bent notes. Beck was an early name I followed. The man knew his way with a guitar. I haven’t listened to him much in recent years but I have multiple Beck favorites. One that The Neurons pulled into the morning mental music stream was Beck and the Rolling Stones doing “Going Down” in 2012. That song has been covered by a range of guitar artists and bands and is very familiar to me. It’s been part of my mental walking music for yonks. It is good for keeping the feet moving, especially after a long and exhausting climb up, where you finally crest and begin the downslope. Yes, singing, “Going down. Down, down, down, down, down,” in your head as that happens satisfies me. So does this Stone & Beck collaboration.
Stay positive and test negative. The coffee has been drunk. Let the music begin. Cheers
Dawn broke, and now we could see why it was so dark. Last night’s sky was clear. Enriched by unblemished moonshine, spectacular starry mountain vistas were on offer.
Today, clouds have gone come down and fog hugs the ground. Grey is the color of the sky, and sunlight evades our searching eyes.
It’s Tuesday, December 6, 2022. Hear the tick tick of the digital clocks emulating the grandfather clock’s countdown? That’s the sound of the year leaving. Or maybe it’s the sound of the next year hurrying to us. The sun showed up on our spinning planet’s piece called southern Oregon at 7:25 this morning and will toss goodbye over its sunny shoulders at 4:39 PM. It’s 0 C but we’re hopeful of reaching 44 F today. Rain? No, they say. They’re telling us that despite the overcast sky and fog I’m seeing, it’s actually mostly sunny in Ashland. Most be another part of town.
What I notice of my morning rituals is that the summer sun comes in through the large east-facing living room window. By this time of the year, the sun shyly looks in through the southern window around the corner from the living room window and twenty-three feet further up the side of the house. They have come to be known as the summer window and winter window for me.
I awoke with a Led Zeppelin favorite in mind. Coming out in 1971, when I became fifteen years old, Led Zepp’s fourth album had a song on it called “When the Levee Breaks”. Now, I enjoyed that entire album but that song was the one which usually haunted me later. Later reading revealed that it was an old country song, which added a layer of thinking that stimulated greater introspection. Its worrying lyrics and downcast beat seemed firmly rooted in someone’s existence.
Later, I found its beat and tone conducive to walking and thinking. I was then and have always been a person who enjoys walking distances. I’m one to take the long way home when I’m on my feet, climbing up hills to gain a broader perspective. So it was that I was out yesterday, climbing the hills and thinking about my writing in progress when The Neurons rummaged through my youthful memories and began playing it. It stayed in my morning mental music stream today.
When I went off looking for a version to play today, I stumbled upon this version by the Playing for Change project. Incorporating a huge variety of sounds and talented individuals, it’s even more powerful and haunting than the version Zepp gave us. John Paul Jones of Zepp is included among the musicians. Derek Trucks is one of the folks on slide guitar. I hope you listen to the song and that it stirs you as it does me.
Off for coffee. Stay pos and test negative. Here’s the video. Cheers
The furnace is running. It’s 36 F (2.2 C) outside, not so bad while you’re inside, where it’s sixty-eight. No sunshine through the windows, even after I opened the blinds and curtains, and the daylight is tentative. A mottled grey field meets my eyes when I turn them skyward. Autumn is finally surrendering its grip. Nude trees wave and bow.
It’s Monday, November 28, 2022, November’s final Monday. By the week’s midpoint, we’ll be in 2022’s final month. Winter is closing in with increased speed, having already arrived early in some places. But then, the calendar gives us an average. It’s different around the world, even in the northern hemes. South of the equator, summer is coming.
42 F and rain and snow showers will play for the afternoon. The sun delivered the daylight portion at 7:16 AM and the performance ends at 4:41 PM.
“Skin Deep” by Buddy Guy is playing in the morning mental music stream. The Neurons lured it out of memory last night when I was thinking about racism and prejudice and the insanity of it all. This song was offered as part of the Playing for Change series in 2018. I admire the project, and Buddy Guy is one of my favorite blues performers. Beyond Buddy, there’s other impressive singers and musicians coming together from diverse locations to present us this music, including several choirs. Hope you’ll take a listen.
Stay positive, test negative and do what’s needed to protect yourself, family, and community. You know, like masking to keep the spread down. Coffee is here so I shall retire to the solace of a cup. Here’s the music. I’m going to listen again. Cheers
The autumn sky is doing an awesome impersonation of summer. Scanning down to the trees, snow still caps the mountains. Further down and we see the autumn leaves on trees. Then, lower, comes the hard frost. Looks can deceive unless you take in the full picture.
It’s 32 F now and feels like 30 but no fear, it’ll soon be 40, then keep going until it summits 49. Then we’ll ride back down into the cold valley for the night.
Sunrise heralded this gorgeous, clear, cold sky at 6:55 AM. The other end of the stick will come at 4:54 PM. This is Thursday, November 10, 2022.
My beer gang meet last night and discussed election results and other news, along with the books by Mary Roach. We also had two guests as teachers. We gave them $600 to fund three more microscopes, continuing our funding of their hands-on workshops. Last year, we gave them six, so they now will have nine. The teachers do a joint curriculum of biology and social students of their third and fourth grade classes. They also loan the microscopes to other classes. Next week, the high school robotic team will come in and pitch to them. We plan to donate $500 to them, as we have for several years. We’re also addressing a donation to ScienceWorks to support a new project for them, providing students with hands-on project management experience. For this year, we’ve donated $2500 to the causes, all from donations collected each week when we have beer. We’ve donated over $35,000 in the ten years we’ve been doing this, all to support STEM at all levels, which is being expanded to STEAM.
The outside weather (yes, tell me where else it would be?) reminds The Neurons of my high school years. Jump out of bed early, kick it to clean up and dress, then out to catch the 7 AM bus as the sun is rising. Cold, hard ground covered with ice and frost thrived in the shadow. Foot stamping and hands in pockets are rampant while the sun drags itself over the hills and trees, shifting from apricots to gold to white sunshine. Daylight pulls in just as the bus reaches the school after its six-mile run with all its stops.
That ground cements the memory, pulling up a 1973 out of memory’s rear end. “Cindy Incidentally” by Faces, which was soon Rod Steward and Faces, and then — well, you know. Rock history is heavy with bands that formed and then dissolved, whether they succeeded or not. I always enjoyed Faces and was dismayed that the album with “Cindy Incidentally” was on was their final. Rod went on to huge success, fluidly shifting toward a disco style during his lengthy solo career. But I liked the Faces’s bluesy sound. Oh, well. Change, right?
The specific lyrics which gave The Neurons the idea for this song was that piece that goes, “And your local papers run out of news.” That’s due to our conversation while imbibing our beer that we don’t have a local newspaper. It’s gone under after going through ownership changes. Nor is there a daily paper for neighboring cities. We depend on the net and broadcast media.
In late-breaking news, Mom has returned to the hospital. She has pain in her appendix’s region. Ironically, she was scheduled for a Saturday CT to ensure her appendix is healed. It was perforated back in early September, contributing extensively to her medical melodrama. Fingers crossed that the tough old broad — her term for herself — will pull through again.
Stay positive and test negative. We have music coming up, and coffee has arrived. Have a most excellent day. Cheers
Got up early, fed the cats. Went back to bed because, at 7:15 AM, the light cast a feel that it was closer to five AM. Rising an hour later on this Saturday morning, I found the light much improved. Mixed with clouds, sunshine, rains, and mist, the light seemed pretty much perfect.
It couldn’t last. Clouds swarmed the local atmosphere. Rain shadowed in. But I still thought, it might be nice outside, because it was warm and cozy within, right? Papi, my ginger-furred wonder, told me otherwise. He was beating on the front door. I rushed over and opened it. Yelling, “Meow,” as he dashed in, he let me know how incensed he was. It was cold and wet outside and now he was cold and wet, which is not a preferred state. “A little fresh kibble might ameliorate my mood.” I did as I was told. Always do.
It’s 50 degrees F, November 5, 2022, and raining. We turn back the digits and clock hand tonight, if you do that sort of thing. Well, tomorrow morning, actually. as the deed is done in that nether region that’s both late night and early morning, depending on where you stand on the spectrum about when night and morning literally begin. Today’s high will be 51 F. See, that’s the day’s nature, a balance by degrees here.
“Rock Me Baby” is in my morning mental music stream. This song has been around my entire life. B.B. King’s cover was a hit in 1964 and became his signature song. A blues standard, many artists have covered and recorded it. B.B.’ version was inducted into the rock and roll hall of fame. His arrangement is what’s in my head today, but the cover is by Etta James and Stephen Stills, with the Roots. I’m a fan of all three of those entities, so when I found a recording from 1983 of them doing this song, I sat and listened. The Neurons have nothing to do with my theme music choice for a change.
Well, hope you enjoy it. Give everyone my regards. Stay positive and test negative. The coffee man (that’s me) has delivered. Time to imbibe. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 