Friday’s Theme Music
Mood: contentious
Forty and foggy for Friday in Ashlandia, the weather mothers proclaimed. I saw no fog but forty F did come around. Even with forty and sunshine, les chats were all for coming in where the furnace warmed us and staying in.
It’s November 17, 2023, and the countdown toward holidays in the US and the year’s end is heating up even as our temperatures go down. We’re in the midst of a hot streak, and our high will be 62 F.
Now, I gotta tell you, I’m tired of a lot of things going on not just in the United States, but the entired world. War is one of them, mass shootings and killings with automatic weapons is another, along with climate deniers, and ‘cultural warriors’ who baked issues with women’s rights (abortion choice), teaching children critical race theory (doesn’t happen), GOP gerrymandering, and pulling rights out from under LGBTQIA+ people, just to scare and divide people. I’m tired of people trampling others’ rights, religions and freedoms because they’re claim in strident tones that they’re being persecuted. I’m tired of people who don’t like a book banning it to keep others from reading it. I’m tired of Evangelicals and White Supremacists and antisemetics all trying to pose as something other than the haters and evils that they are. Tired of media and pundits pretending that both sides are the same when talking about Democrats and Republicans as Republicans rise up to deny people equality and justice and burn the country down to get their way while Democrats fight to defend us and keep it all going. If you think they’re the same, you’re not paying attention, and I’m tired of people not paying attention, not applying some critical thinking, not doing research, not exercising their memories, not understanding their government, and trying to rewrite history. But mostly, I’m tired of damn Donald J. Trump and his whole tribe of lying, hypocritical supporters.
Out out of that, The Neurons fed “You Haven’t Done Nothin” by Stevie Wonder to my morning mental music stream (Trademark declared). It’s a solid theme song choice. This 1974 protest song was addressing another infamous Republican POTUS, Richard Nixon, you know, the one of Watergate, dirty tricks, and wiring taping fame. The one who resigned and was pardoned by his successor.
While written for the political environment and events of almost fifty years ago, this song is exactly what’s needed to address Trump and his stolen election lies and the many other facets of his re-election ‘campaign’, along with his constant insistent about how great he is, how he’s so incredibly fit when we can see that he’s not, what an amazing memory he is as he makes claims about things that never happened. I’m tired of the growing cancerous mass which he represents. Stevie Wonder could have written his song for Trump.
We are amazed but not amused
By all the things you say that you’ll do
Though much concerned but not involved
With decisions that are made by you
But we are sick and tired of hearing your song
Telling how you are gonna change right from wrong
‘Cause if you really want to hear our views
“You haven’t done nothing”!
It’s not too cool to be ridiculed
But you brought this upon yourself
The world is tired of pacifiers
We want the truth and nothing else
And we are sick and tired of hearing your song
Telling how you are gonna change right from wrong
‘Cause if you really want to hear our views
“You haven’t done nothing”!
h/t to AZLyrics.com
Stay positive, be strong, stand up for your rights, and lean forward for a better future. Here’s the music. Coffee is up, if you want some. Hey ho, let’s go. Cheers
Thursday’s Theme Music
Mood: up tempo
Although it’s Thursday, November 11, 2023, and fall’s colors claim the land, spring ambiance has won the day. It’s remarkable how much it seems like spring out there. That feeling just boosts my spirits and energy. Gotta love it.
Early afternoon, it’s 60 F outside and the temperature will claw up to 65 F in Ashlandia, where traffic is busy and road construction continues. This weather pleases my cats. Tucker has gone out back into a sunny spot of grass, groomed himself and settled for a nap. Papi wandered in and out a few times, which is his custom regardless of weather, but settled down on a chair cushion in the sun out back and is curled into sleep. Pleasant, even satisfying, to see the two boys out there napping.
Getting a late start. My wife had a problem with one a device this morning. It failed to work for her, so I took it apart and got it going again but killed an hour from the morning. Then she and I discussed genealogy for a while after she accidently discovered a photo and details about her great-great-great grandfather on the net. That stirred my interest again in having my DNA analyzed. I usually avoid it because I know from others how learning about DNA and genealogy becomes a time suck as people learn and pursue info about themselves and their ancestors. I don’t want to invite another time suck into my life, but I also feel like the time has come.
Other than that, and meeting with friends for drinks, reading books, trying to keep up with the news, planning holiday activities, chores, writing, and taking the cars in for maintenance, not much is going on. With so much discouraging news sweeping the world, The Neurons turned on Train with “Calling All Angels” in my morning mental music stream (Trademark blinking). The 2003 song reflects a hopeful vibe for someone who feels like everything is falling apart and came out of the songwriter’s therapy session.
I need a sign to let me know you’re here
All of these lines are being crossed over the atmosphere
I need to know that things are gonna look up
‘Cause I feel us drowning in a sea spilled from a cup
When there is no place safe
And no safe place to put my head
When you can feel the world shake
From the words that are said
And I’m calling all angels
And I’m calling all you angels
I won’t give up if you don’t give up
I won’t give up if you don’t give up
I won’t give up if you don’t give up
I won’t give up if you don’t give up
I need a sign to let me know you’re here
‘Cause my TV set just keeps it all from being clear
I want a reason for the way things have to be
I need a hand to help build up
Some kind of hope inside of me
And I’m calling all angels
And I’m calling all you angels
n/t to AZLyrics.com
Stay pos and hydrated, sleep well and be strong, and lean forward into a better future. Coffee has been deposited in my gullet and delivered the desired effect. Here’s the music. Cheers
Floofogony
Floofogony (floofinition) – 1. An account of floofs’ origins on Earth. Origins: Poem of 1022 lines by Floofsiod, written about 1026 BCE.
In Use: “Few humans have been granted access to the Floofogony, a document which is precious to animals and kept in the Fortress of Floofitude in an undisclosed place which is said to exist in an area of Earth inaccessible to humans.”
Recent Use: “Although many societies offer greater recognition that animals are not dumb and do have feelings and are capable of more intelligence than previously credited, the idea of a document such as the Floofogony is usually roundly mocked.”
2. Anguish of any sort felt about the loss of an animal or an animal’s situation. Origins: middle-english, first known use in fourteenth century.
In Use: “When their dog raced out of the yard after his bath, immediate floofogony was felt by all the family members even as they scrambled to put on their shoes, get in the car and find her.”
Recent Use: “With the Internet showing more about animals across the spectrum helping one another or asking humans for help, more people experience floofogony as they read stories or watch videos about animals being dumped, abused, or in need of medical intervention after accidents.
Wednesday’s Theme Music
Mood: measured
Slept in late, stayed with the cat.
A flourish of color and wind heralded Wednesday’s daybreak on November 15, 2023 in Ashlandia, where red-leaved maples are spectacular and plentiful, shimmering with a tree full of leaves like they’re lit from within. After rain dusted us for a few nocturnal hours, it’ll be dry for the day’s remaining hours. 54 F now, we’re reaching for 62 F today under a sky where sun and clouds continue their seasonal skirmish. Sunshine is mostly winning, and the day feels fine under a balmy autumn wind that tears leaves off the trees and carries them on whirling rides.
The 15th of the month was payday for me for most of my military career, a day which we looked forward to when I was a lowly paid airman. In the latter stages of my career, the government announced we’d only be paid once per month going forward to save the gov. money. That forced many people to be more circumspect with how they spent, impelling people who habitually went payday to payday, comfortable in the half-month increments, into planning what and when to spend to make it last.
I slept in late today, staying abed until after nine. Wasn’t a plan; cozy and warm, with Tucker, the black and white long hair floof sharing my pillow, purring like an idling tractor, The Neurons said, “Let’s just stay here.” Didn’t even consult me. Then Tucker raised his head and sneezed across my face, ending the sleep-in with a jolt. Rolling out, feet thumping the floor, I hastened to the bathroom and rinsed off my face, giving particular focus to my mouth. I’m not a germophobe but if I was setting up a dating profile, cat drool across my lips would be listed as a turnoff.
I thanked him for getting me up and then went into the feeding ritual. Papi hurried in for his portion, patiently sitting and watching, only vocalizing his needs after I picked up his bowl to set onto the floor. Then it was like Papi was suddenly starving as a hunger-driven long wail of desire was unleashed. Still, as I set the bowl down, he took a few moments to head bump my arm and hand several times and purr before dropping his head to the bowl and plowing in.
As if now making fun of me because I was late, dashing around, muttering to myself, “Got to step it up a few gears,” The Neurons delivered a 1970 song called “Give Me Just a Little More Time” by Chairmen of the Board to the morning mental music stream (Trademark skipping). The song came out when I was thirteen, and I always enjoyed the drama and urgency the vocalist emoted. Some might label it over the top, but I felt some kinship with the message presented as I trekked the hormone trippy path of understanding sex, love, and other emotions as a teenager. I’m still working onit.
Stay positive, be strong, and lean forward. Coffee has been consumed and is kicking in, giving me a heartbeat and clearing the fog out of my head. Here we go. Cheers
Floofdischronia
Floofdischronia – (floofinition) Mental condition which causes people to lose time to spending time learning about animals or interacting with animals. Origins: Greece, 1671.
In Use: “Greek doctors responded to a crises of economy by examining how humans and floofs engaged and soon found that animals exerted a hypnotic hold on many people of a certain disposition, causes sch individuals to forget about time or deliberately ignore it to stay with animals, a condition which the labeled floofdischronia.
Recent Use: “The pandemic hitting U.S. shores in 2020 brought a precipitous rise in floofdischronia for several years, even impacting the U.S. economy as people chose to quit working to stay home with their pets.”
Après-petting Cleaning (APC)
Après-petting Cleaning (APC) (floofinition) – The fur cleaning required after a human touching a floof’s fur after the floof has just finished cleaning it. Origins: US, derived from French. First use observed in 1960.
In Use: “Barney had just finished cleaning his fur and was settling in for a nap when Meg came him, saw him, and came over, burying her face in his side’s fur as she covered him with smooches, forcing Barney into a vigorous après-petting cleaning.”
Recent Use: ‘Carla’s Instagram account is a popular place, with many people tuning in to see what her cats are doing, especially when she forces them into après-petting cleaning by touching the cats on their backs while saying, “Doink.”‘
Monday’s Theme Music
Mood: high and stable
A night and morning of rain with temperatures drifting up and down through the forties made this a happy Monday. A single prop plane is droning through a flat milk gray sky. Sunshine rules somewhere behind those clothes.
It’s November 13, 2023, and per customs, there will be fall weather in autumn in Ashlandia, where the trees foster leaves that still change color and wait to drop for the holidays. Some might be waiting for Black Friday, because Black Friday is ON, everywhere and all the time, now. Stores tell us, “Get ready for Black Friday deals with these pre-Black Friday deals, on now.”
It’ll be 58 F later, they say, but it’s 49 F now. The cats have settled on porch locations and told me, it’s acceptable…barely, but a treat will help them cope.
“Take Me Out” by Franz Ferdinand (from 2004) is in the morning mental music stream (Trademark existential). The Neurons put it there after I watched one of the Bourne movies with Matt Damon. Someone ordered another to take him out, and a little later, I found “Take Me Out” being sung in my head, where it stayed until…well, it’s actually still there. The lyrics are very simple, although I like some of the wordplay they employ. The song has a nice thumping beat if you’re into that. Their style reminds me some of a harsher version of The Killers in many ways.
Anyway, that’s the song today. Be strong, lean forward, and extend your positivity energy as far as it can go. Don’t worry, more will come. Here’s the music. Cheers
Cogfloofscente
Cogfloofscente (floofinition) – A person who has expert knowledge of an animal or group of animals. Origins: borrowed from Italian with roots in Latin cogfloofōscere. First use observed in 1786.
In use: “Insperable from one another, Naia was a cogfloofscente of Lucky, claiming to know everything the floof’s expression showed and understand every sound the animal made.”
In use: “Familiar with routines, habits, and predilections, Corvette was a cogfloofscente of his family of humans and their close friends, taking advantage of them to get treats, belly rubs, and laps.”
Recent use: “In the first year of COVID sheltering-in-place guidance, many people and their floofs became cogfloofscente of the others, recognizing not just what made the other happy or upset, but also effectively comforting the other.”
Sunday’s Theme Music
Mood: blurp
Fog dismays me outside the window, blocking the sun and keeping us chill between its icy fingers, shutting me out from even seeing beyond the houses across the street. I know the sun is out there, first from learned science from my early childhood years, but also from a glimmer of light warring with the gray at the spot where the sun should be. Could be aliens coming to get my coffee, I suppose, but I’m keeping my money on the sun.
It’s November 12, 2023, and Sunday. About to go out and start the writing day but enthusiasm cringes in the face of the fog and 37 F temperature. Supposed to warm up to 58 F but first that sun needs to hammer its heat beat over that fog until the latter fades.
Le chats sure don’t like it, with the number one boy, Tucker, immediately returning from outside with a ‘screw-this-noise’ expression. He’s folded his black and white fur back in bed. Papi, always more stubborn and independent — he is an orange boi — tried to prove what a floof of the wild he is but his path always came back to the door, and quickly. In and out four times, he finally admitted, enough, and is not resting on the sofa after those exhausting forays.
If such creatures as these mighty housepets couldn’t withstand the weather, what hope do I, a mere mortal, hold? Well, for one, I have a coat and gloves, garments which they resist. Two, I won’t be out there long, not in the actual outdoors. I’ll hustle the car from the garage to the coffee shop parking lot and then shift my derriere’s load from the car to the building. There will be walks later, but it does have some measure on dependence about what the sun, fog, and temp do.
With fog stealing the sunshine, The Neurons thought it would be fun to play Len and “Steal My Sunshine” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark indestructible). Coming out in 1999, the song was the group’s big hit. I haven’t heard it in a car’s age at least, so The Neurons’ ability to shift it from my mind’s stasis to the active region surprised me.
Len — who are a brother and sister combo — have a lot of fun with words. Take this example.
I was lying on the grass of Sunday morning of last week
Indulging in my self-defeat
My mind was thugged, all laced and bugged, all twisted, wrong and beat
A comfortable three feet deep
Now the fuzzy stare from not being there on a confusing morning week
Impaired my tribal lunar speak
And of course you can’t become if you only say what you would have done
So I missed a million miles of fun
h/t Genius.com
Anyway, that’s the music. Be strong, stay cool, remain brave, and leeean forward. Fresh coffee is available. Mind if I steal a sip?
Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 