Back at the homestead. Something is barking outside. Sounds like a sea lion barking up a storm. Understandable, as he’s in the mountains. Probably asking directions for the coast.
It’s Thursday, Jun 29, 2023. Folks are active outside on this cool 62 F morning in Ashlandia today, where the seniors are busy and the coffee shops are crowded. We’re lookin’ fer 90, 92 F, sumpin’ in that area, today. Protect your skin, and hydrate. It’s a no-cloud zone for now.
Coffee drinking has commenced. The cats have been in and out, tickled by their space, entertained by a jay’s activities, soothed by a breeze, warmed by the sun. The jay is always out there doing things — well, dusk to dawn — sorry for the hyperbole — an epitome of energy. Depressing to watch their busy self. Makes me feel like a sloth in comp.
In sad news, sunrise has backed up to 5:37 AM. A moment of silence for the lost minutes. Next thing you know, it’ll be November and the sunrise won’t be comin’ ’round till after seven.
Has been a fast year. I always think that it’s just me feelin’ so but my wife said to me, “It feels like it’s too soon for the fourth of July.” I agree. Feels like we’re shooting through 2023 like a slick uncooked turkey through buttered fingers.
After I began ruminating about time, The Neurons just took off runnin’ with it. Don’t know ’bout you, but that’s how my neurons do. Then people are asking, “You look like you were thinking about something.” You reply, “I think I might have been but I don’t know what it was.” Anyway, The Neurons reacted with “Time Is Running Out” by Muse (2004). I enjoyed the video back when it was released, just under a year before we moved from California to Oregon. Liked those military folks around the table, oblivious and yet doing things as a synchronized act. After my military career, that felt right to me.
Stay pos, and don’t let the bedbugs bite. Here’s the music. Cheers
TL/DR – went up north to get my REAL ID. An overnight trip. The cats are happy we’re home. Gonna get hot here in the next few days.
A late post to the day. We’ve returned to Ashlandia, where the temperature is 85 F, the time is 7:07 PM, and the people are sweaty. Been away today, heading north on the great driver license quest yesterday. See, I turn 67 next week and license expires. Being over 65 means renewing must be done in person so they can check my eyes, a fifteen second step in the entire process. But let’s go back to the start.
Got the notice a few months ago and began to plan. First thing I learned is that Ashlandia’s DMV office is open three days a week, seven hours on Tuesday and Thursday, and six hours on Wednesday. Second, the line gets long very quickly. People are outside an hour before, waiting for the office to open. Third, there are no appointments available. I tried making one for weeks, again, again, again, again, again.
I checked the Medford DMV, twenty-five miles up the road. No appointments to be found — again, again, again, again, again. Next was Grants Pass, fifty miles away. No appointments. But Canyonville, up Interstate 5, 85 miles away, had appointments. So I will go, I decided. My wife said she would accompany so we decided that we’d go on to Eugene to shop for books, shoes, clothes, and stay overnight. See, a wedding is coming up in a few months. Quite formal, one of my nephews, and we’re gonna be there.
After making the appointment, I told several friends about my efforts. One related that his son just renewed his license. I don’t know why he didn’t do it online, but he went down to the DMV office in Medford, where he resided, four times. Finally arrived one morning half an hour before the office opened. Got in line. Finished four hours later.
I could have done that, I suppose, just keep going to the DMV and getting in line and waiting, rather than racing up the highway. But a road trip is more fun than sitting around for me.
Anyway, one of the other friends mentioned that he’d tried renewing in Ashlandia, and then in Medford, and found the waits exasperating. As he and his wife had to go to Portland, they stopped in Canyonville. He walked into the DMV and had it all done in minutes.
Well, I arrived yesterday at the Canyonville DMV fifteen minutes before my appointment. Walked in. One person working in there. Fifteen people waiting. Everyone had a number. But I had an appointment. Where do you go if you have an appointment? There was no guidance.
The person being served finished. The sole agent called for the next number. I headed toward the counter. A woman leaped up and said, “I have a ten fifty appointment.” Her name was checked, appointment verified. I said, “I have an eleven o’clock appointment.”
The agent said, “Wait on the red carpet. That way, we’ll know you have an appointment.”
Ah, the red carpet, of course! The three by three foot red carpet. How could I have not known that? That’s how her friendly but snarky tone sounded.
A little after eleven, a second agent snuck into the work area and called the next number. I said, “Excuse me, but I’m standing on the red carpet!”
Quickly the agent bowed. “Please forgive me and come forward.”
No, just in my imagination. Actually, I just told the new agent what I had an eleven o’clock appointment. She asked me my name and we began. It was a quick ordeal, barely long enough to call it an ordeal. Funniest part was that I wear glasses to drive but forgot to put them on when I did the eye exam. “Perfect,” the agent said. “Do you wear contacts?”
“No, I just forgot to wear my glasses.”
Supposed to get hot tomorrow, with sunshine exploding with heat and dry, calm air moving it, the low nineties are anticipated. Gonna be that way, getting warmer, for a few weeks, not just in Ashlandia, but in southwestern Oregon.
Returning today, the cats were happy to see us. Papi was relieved to be allowed back outside. Although we have a pet door installed, Tucker likes sleeping in front of it, blocking Papi’s progress and giving him stress and anxiety. So, pet door were closed, and the cats were locked in the house together with food and water for about thirty hours. Blocked windows provided them with fresh air and kept the place cool.
Today’s music came about after we watched Taylor Mac’s 24-Decade History of Music last night. It’s amazing, incredibly creative, fascinating in so many ways, and a showcase of impressive talents by multiple individuals. I surfed the net for more info about it this morning. I ended up coming a “Better Together” with Jack Johnson being done as part of Song Around the World/Playing for Change. I offer it up to you.
Stay strong, be cool, and continued to have brightly positive, as you can, when you can. Here’s the music.
Floofcological(floofinition) – Mental or emotional state of a person or animal arising from or related to thoughts or worries about animals, or observations about animals.
In use: “Her floofcological state always became anxiety-frazzled when she was forced to go away on visits and not be with her floof friends, although the ability to see and talk to them via a security system helped restore her calm each night.”
63 F in the outdoors with a tincture of cool mountain air offsetting the morning sun’s greeting. “Perfect,” the cats agree. They’re looking forward to the possible high in the low to mid 80s F.
It’s Monday, June 26, 2023, in Ashlandia, where the cougars and bears roam the streets and tourists roam the restaurants. Perusing the news, there’s hope for a cancer treatment that shrinks tumors, deaths in Pakistan from lightning, North Korea keeping up its traditional war of words with the US, cocaine market is booming, tornadoes in the east, train hauling hazardous materials derailed — yes, another — and more deaths, more deaths, more deaths. Not much on Ukraine and Russia. Nothing on Trump. Probably too early in the day. Race results about a NASCAR offering named after a corporation which bought the rights provides filler,
Stone Temple Pilots, J. Cash, Bush, and the Stones have songs sharing space in my morning mental music stream, they being, “Creep”, “Folsom Prison Blues”, “Machinehead”, and “Start Me Up”. Why them was the leading question in my interrogation of The Neurons to learn more. They took the fifth. No comment all the way.
After all that, I went with “When the Whip Comes Down” by the Rolling Stones, a song featured in the documentary about them last night when they focused on Ronnie Wood. Written and released in 1978 (yeah, looked it up), the song is about a gay man and how he’s treated. I enjoy watching Mick playing gee-tar on the video.
May I suggest you stay positive and keep my moving forward? I’m moving toward a cup of coffee. Let’s get it cracking. Time waits for no one.
FAIS(floofinition) – Internet slang which is shorthand for ‘Floof-Activity Interrupted Sleep’, an expression used to convey why people are tired or did not receive a good night of rest.
In use: ‘Despite a hefty cup of caffeinated latte, Barb kept yawning, finally apologizing, explaining, “FAIS. My puppy and cat decided to play tag at three AM, and then a bear started going through people’s trashcans, which made every dog in a square mile join the barking.”‘
Summer is continuing its lo-key approach to June, or is it the other way around? It’s 68 F now in Ashlandia, where the animals are wild and the drivers are crazy, to which the cats say nothing because they’re busy strolling, washing, napping, just enjoying what’s come. Good philosophy.
Today is Sunday, June 25, 2023. We’re expecting a lofty temp of 84 F to descend on Ashlandia before the sun calls it a day. Probably have thunderstorms. Had some more yesterday, followed by rain last night. This was after Alexa informed there would be no rain. Yesterday she warned me that it would probably rain between 6 and 7 PM today. Now she’s denying she ever said. Calls to mind some politicians. Show them a video of them saying what you claim and they sit there shaking their head, denying they said it, and try to shift the subject. Greasy monkeys.
I checked ‘On this day in history’ on Bing to see what happened. The second entry was about June 24, 2023. The next search result brought up a result May 12, ‘the aftermath’. But fourth, from Encyclopedia Britannica, was Michael Jackson’s death, and Farah Fawcett’s passing. He was 50 and she was 62. The Korean Way also started on this day in 1950, just five years after World War II ended. Sort of reminds me of Russia attacking Ukraine.
I have “Call Me The Breeze” by JJ Cale in the morning mental music stream. Believe it or not, but that came about after I opened the back door and felt the morning the breeze. “What a nice breeze,” I told the cats. “You guys feel it?” Neither cat replied, but The Neurons had awakened from their walking nap and said, “Playing ‘Call Me the Breeze’ by JJ Cale.” The song is relaxed, fine fare for a fair morning. Others have covered it and had hits with it, but I enjoy Cale’s original from 1972.
Stay pos, and be sure you test the water before you just go leaping in there. Slow down and smell the coffee. Think I might put that on a bumper sticker.
Simplefloof(floofinition) – 1. An animal with few needs or worries.
In use: “Rocky was a simplefloof, happy with a toy, some kibble, and the company of humans or other animals.”
2. An animal whose foolish behavior or silly personality is often the subject of repeated stories for others’ amusement.
In use: “A sweet simplefloof, Peaky loved playing with a rubber worm but despised how it felt and tasted. She’d bat the toy across the room, then wash her paw before galloping over to the toy again. Whenever she picked it up in her mouth, she immediately dropped it, shaking her head. Yet, she’d pull the toy out of her little toy chest whenever it was put away.”
The water wheel turns and drops us into Saturday, June 25, 2023. June, precious boys and girls, is reaching the end of its walk. 2023 is over halfway through its life cycle.
Summer has arrived in Ashlandia, where the rock is old and the musicians are young. 59 F now, 84 F is within our reach if we but try — as if we can make it happen. Maybe we could but it’d need a collective will, and this isn’t the era of collective will. Small collective wills emerge to turn events but overall, we disagree on how and where we should direct our collective will.
Thunderstorms yesterday. My wife reported that she was outside reading in the back when they arrived. Tucker was to one side, in the yard, napping. Rain splattered down. She hurried in. Tucker didn’t even stir. Papi was already in the house, asking, “Did you hear those boomers? Wake me when it’s over.” He then stretched out in the dining room, where he was when I arrived. Wasn’t asleep, though. Nah, not when boomers are thudding and rumbling.
Sunrise today is about 5:33 AM in Ashlandia, and we’ll see the sun’s tail end at 8:52 PM. Only a matter of seconds difference from the ‘longest day of the year’ experienced on solstice, which is about the sunlight hours and not the day’s length, right? Can we all agree that the day remains roughly 24 hours? Today is 23 hours, 59 minutes, 59.9993680 seconds, if you’re wondering. h/t to timeanddate.com
I watched the first episode of “My Life As A Rolling Stone” last night. That one focused on Mick Jagger, one of the primary song writers, lead vocalist, and frontman of the band. Naturally The Neurons became very excited. “Oh, I know this song! And this one, too. And I remember this one.” Can’t say which is my favorite Rolling Stone ditty but “I Can’t Get No (Satisfaction)” is memorable for waking up my sleeping rock ‘n roll sensibilities waaayyy back in the mid 1960s, when I was getting more understanding ’bout who I was. So the song is logged into my morning mental music stream today where it hums ’round and ’round. The selected video epitomizes rock ‘n roll, too, with a large screaming crowd, Mick and the boys in strange attire, balloons dropping on everyone, and a fan rushing the stage only to get clocked by the guitarist, Keith. And the song played on.
Stay pos and keep being your fetching self. Coffee has been served for the faithful. Let’s get ready to ride. Here’s the music. Cheers
As we slept, the overlords declared, “This will be Friday, June 23, 2023. Let us see how they take to the change.” So far as I can tell, the reality shuffle didn’t to anything to me, other than that flash in the night when the date and time was established. When you think about it, moving billions of people to another reality is impressive, especially as it takes so little energy and effort. They siphon off less than a quarter teaspoon of the needed energy off of every individual being shifted. Leaves a few people feeling groggy, sure. That’s why the overlords introduced us to coffee.
It’s a warmish June morning, 53 F right now. Heading up the scale to 80 F today. Thunderstorms were being mentioned yesterday when the weather they talked about the forecast. That word left their vocabulary now. Probably because they weren’t expecting the reality shift. Few usually are.
I was chatting with friends the other night. One is an unbridled cat fellow. The other is the father of a daughter who fosters. That’s what started the entire chat; she’d sent pix to him of her new foster. She’d already had a little singleton she was bottling feeding and bringing along. This week, another singleton was introduced so the poor little fellow has a play and cuddle buddy.
Remembering this convo this morning prompted The Neurons to inject David Bowie’s “Cat People (Putting Out Fires)” from 1982. A little rock, techno, and glam folded together, it was written for the movie, Cat People. Wouldn’t say the song is a ‘usual’ Bowie recipe; he frequently reinvented himself. No telling what he would come up with the next time a song or album was released.
Fire up your corporeal being. Stay pos. Drink some coffee, tea, etc., right? Something to light the body and spirit’s burners. Here’s the music. Liftoff.
Michael Seidel, writer 