Tag: childhood

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: sunsizzle

Our intrepid band of three hundred million plus call Earthlings or Terrans come at last to the day noted as Tuesday, April 9, 2024. Once a date studied by prophets and feared by rulers, the reasons for that have been lost. Only one man knows the truth, but he’s been frozen and forgotten. And so we, the survivors, skip through this day not knowing its significance.

It’s sunny in Ashlandia. The sky’s blueness is marred by some lazy stray clouds hanging above the valley’s high edges, as though spying for an enemy ruler. Current temperature is in the upper 50s F. We’re shimmying toward the upper 60s. This is a fine example of how spring should appear in the middle of the season in Aslandia.

My wife and I have been involved in a jigsaw puzzle. She picked it up at the library of things last Friday. We began working on it that day.

It’s a Ravensburger, which is my favorite. Ravensburger puzzles have solid pieces which fit together well, and vibrant colors. This one is a tableau of a beach house living room looking out over the sea. A small dog rests on his bed in the foreground, looking back at you. His orange toy is on the bed beside him.

A coffee table dominates the center. It sits on a striped rug on a hardwood floor. Sharing its surface top is a tray of food and wine, a long scarf colorful with sea creatures and flowing aquas, purples, oranges, and blues, a gold-rimmed bowl of shells and starfish, and a plate of food. Sea foam green easy chairs and sofa are arranged on either side of the table. Past the table are open sliding doors leading to a deck.

Beyond the deck is the sand and churning waves. Further out are sailing vessels and a coastguard ship. Osprey and gulls wheel through light clouds and blue skies.

I’d love to live in that place. Wish I was there now, listening to the ocean and reading a book. Small stacks of books are on the sofa and the coffee table’s lower shelf.

The puzzle is coming together fast. We are now about 85% finished. Sky and sea remain, along with the birds.

It wasn’t that way yesterday morning. Back then, we had one edge piece missing. The coffee table was almost complete, and the dog and several other areas were completed. I’d say it was thirty percent done.

I was focused on that missing edge piece. My obsessiveness had kicked in. I hadn’t plan to work on that puzzle at the point in the day. It was mid-morning and I had things to do. But I sure wanted to find that missing piece.

Going through the pieces, I began asking deities and fates for help. None came but The Neurons, taking up my issue, began an ABBA song: SOS from 1975 began playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark sinking).

I found an American Bandstand episode with Dick Clark and ABBA on the net. Seeing Bandstand shook up memories like they were in a snow globe. Many teenagers and pre-teens hustled into a television’s presence to see the show in the 1960s. I never became deeply into it, but my older sister surely was. ABBA wasn’t a group I followed. I didn’t aspire to their style. But I respected their talents and their drive to succeed. There they were, doing what they’d set out to do. Congrats to them. I knew about them because AM radio broadcast their music. Then there were the friends who were so into them, too…

By the way, I didn’t find the missing piece and left for the coffee shop. My wife returned from her exercise class and answered the call, finding the missing piece. She’s my hero.

Stay positive, persevere, and Vote Blue this November. Coffee is being actively consumed in parallel to my typing. Hope you have the kind of day you wanted when you awoke this morning. Here’s the music.

Cheers

0

Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sunsy

Another spring day of entangled weather. Descending clouds obscure the western ridges’ face with rain threats. Sunlight powers through in the east and attempts to buck the temperatures up. Wind sometimes gambols like a newborn foal.

Temperatures rose to 50 F from 38 F but have now slipped back to 48 F. 55 F is as how as we expect thermometers to climb around most of Ashlandia.

Today is April 7, 2024.

Papi, my lean, lanky ginger floof, played nine solid innings of Let me in/let me out. Do you know this game? This is when a house floof makes noises to rouse their servants to let them in and out of the house. It’s scored by how many times they can make it happen and how fast it happens.

I think Papi scored a perfect score. There was some swearing involved, as he didn’t even take a seventh inning stretch. Bored, hungry, restless, frustrated, lonely, disappointed in the weather…I think it was all of these things. Started at 5:30 AM and went on past 9:30.

Mom continues recovering from her appendicitis. Late update was that the appendix had ruptured ‘some time ago’. Gangrene had set in. She was lucky, the medical folks declared.

I was surprised. Several years ago, they mentioned she’d perforated her appendix and had gangrene but then backed off and claimed something else. I was always dubious of that shift. As for surviving, ‘survivor’ is one of many words I’d immediately apply to her. ‘Tough’ is another.

Staying with family medical situations, my aunt just had her colon removed. Well, all but an inch, is the claim passed to me. My father’s sister, she and Mom are the same age and have been friends since they were nineteen. They’ve been through a lot together and remain friends even through Mom and Dad divorced back in the early 1960s.

My aunt has been intermittently battling colon cancer for a while. She was declared clean on a January follow-up. But she went back in March because “something didn’t feel right”. At that visit, they declared she had a mass as large as a cat. That description had me visualizing a cat curled up, sleeping in her colon. Like Mom, my aunt is tough, survived the surgery despite a bad heart, and will be discharged, wearing a bag, in a few days.

Texting with sisters, thinking about Mom and my aunt, I wasn’t overly surprised when The Neurons introduced “Those Were the Days” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark setting). I’m remembering the Mary Hopkins version from 1968. I seemed to have heard it a great deal in my youth but I don’t think I’ve heard it in years. It’s amusing that The Neurons pulled it up out of memory.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue. I’m on my second cup of coffee, and the day is moving on, with or without my involvement.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Fridayitis

All things must pass, and so Thursday has passed into Friday, April 5, 2024.

It’s a rainy day. Was a rainy night. Clouds are blockading the sun. That’s April weather in the US, isn’t it? “April showers bring May flowers,” and all that.

Not an American idiom, though, but a British one. I looked it up on the net, so it must be true.

April showers bring May flowers

Adversity is followed by good fortune. An old proverb, it was taken more literally in days gone by, and in fact it appeared in a British book of Weather Lore published in 1893.

h/t thefreedictionary.com

So, be optimistic, I tell myself. I hold to hope even though sometimes adversity follows adversity until it’s an absolute train wreck.

It’s 38 F in my slice of Ashlandia. Expected to reach 52 F. Showers are also expected. But sunshine soaks the back yard and soars in through the southern windows. Papi, my ginger house floof, is engaging the sun in the yard. Tucker, the black and white house floof. is luxuriously grooming in sunshine through the eastern living room windows.

After feeding the two floofs earlier, Papi hunted me down in the kitchen. I was preparing my meal. (Floofs eat first. House rule. Not sure who decided…) Papi sat beside me and planted a level gaze on me. “What is it?” I asked. “Are you hungry? Need more to eat?”

Papi responded, “Meow.” I recognized that as, yes. Well, probably yes. It could also mean, no. Or, what? Or, maybe.

Taking it as one of those, I fed him again, since morning pate remained. He ate a thumble’s worth and headed for the back door. I believe I misinterpreted his meow.

We spent last night out with friends. First, food at a Medford restaurant, Tap & Vine. Then we headed to the Craterian Theater to catch a show, “The Simon & Garfunkel Story”. It’s a little story about the American folk rock duo, Art Garfunkel and Paul Simon. The story was interspersed with a cavalcade of their songs over the years.

What a cavalcade. “Bridge Over Troubled Water”, “The Sound of Silence”, “The Boxer”, “Homeward Bound”, “I Am A Rock”, “Cecilia”, “The Big Bright Green Pleasure Machine”, “Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme”, “A Hazy Shade of Winter”, “Bookends”, “Mrs Robinson”, “Feeling Groovey”. I’m certainly overlooking a few.

Probably not a surprise, but the crowd was a mostly over sixty collection. One companion joked, “Gray hair is required to attend.” There was a significant quantity of gray in the hair among attendees. But Simon & Garfunkel songs peppered our youth. Yet, Mom knew them, too. I remembered her singing “Mrs Robinson” to me when I was trying to ask her some question.

The song that often stays with me is “Richard Cory”. Why not? A 1966 song based on the Edwin Arlington Robinson poem, “Richard Cory”, it’s a tale of envy and jealousy. A man works in a Richard Cory-owned factory. Cory is rich, a man about town, attending the theater, driving fancy cars, having big parties, etc. The worker singing in the song works in the factory, hates his job and despises his poverty. But it’s Richard Cory who ends up killing himself.

Ironic, isn’t it, we mock. The man with everything is the one who takes his life.

Anyway, this is the song which The Neurons planted in the morning mental music stream (Trademark illusive) on this April Friday morning. Hope it brightens your day.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue. I’m into my coffee already, thanks. Used it to wash down a buttered bagel. First course was canteloupe chunks. Fine way to start a Friday. Here’s the music.

Cheers

0

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Histalgic

Hello, fellow peepers. Today is Wednesday, April 2, 2024.

It’s raining again in Ashlandia. The temperature as dropped back into the forties. Oh, but that day, yesterday, when the temperatures resided in the upper 70s (Fahrenheit — could you imagine what it’d be like if it was 70 degrees Celsius?) was glorious and spirit lifting. I remind myself that the rain will help things grow and continue to nibble away at our drought problem. The rain is a good thing, as long as the rain is kept to a moderation.

The rain displeases my house floofs, Tucker and Papi. I released them to the backyard per their demands. The patio is covered, so they weren’t in danger of melting from the rain. And the rain imbued our air with a lovely, fresh scent. But when I opened the back door fifteen minutes later, they scurried right in and demanded treats, because it’s raining. They made a good case, so I treated them. Then I treated myself with a lemon scone to go with my coffee.

Today’s reading for me included coverage of Senator T. Tuberville. He’s an R out of Alabama, although he might be living in Florida. That’s okay, though; Alabama wrote its laws so people representing their people don’t need to live among the people they represent; they only need be a resident for a day. Seems sensible *snark*.

Sen. Tuberville was campaigning in Utah where he claimed that supernatural forces were undermining the United States. Was he talking about Jesus? Because I agree, those people saying they love and believe in Jesus but then do everything possible to be contrary to Jesus’s teachings are undermining our country. Some — not all — of these GOPers for Jesus stand against the whole ‘love thy brother thing,’ at least in words and actions, if not in thought.

But this is about AI. Artificial Intelligence. The Alarida Senator also claimed in his Utah speech to have visited all fifty states during his political life. Curious, I asked Bing AI — BAI — about it. BAI replied, “Yes, Senator Tommy Tuberville has indeed traveled to all 50 states during his political career. He made this claim while campaigning for an ally in Utah, emphasizing that he has been to both good and bad places across the country 1.”

Well, hey, BAI, I claim that I’ve been to the Moon and Mars. Does that make it true? That’s what I’m looking for, BAI. Actual evidence beyond a claim.

See, I don’t trust Tommy T. as a reliable source. He made claims before which didn’t hold up. See the things he said about his father’s military service. Or his foundation for veterans. Check the actual donations made after he declared every dime would go to Alabama vets.

In the end, I’m not overly worried about Sen. Tuberville’s declaration musings “supernatural forces” undermining our government. After all, he once declared the three branches of the US government to be “the House, the Senate, and executive.” I don’t believe he’d know a supernatural force if it bit him in the ass. The way he sometimes appears, I think they might be biting him in the ass. Then again, that could be Trump or one of his sycophants.

Today’s music comes by way of the news. I was thinking about the impact of state abortion laws which deny women the right to control their own health when it comes to pregnancy. The same laws handicap medical staff from helping women who are pregnant, in more than one state. For an example of one of the worst, see Texas.

Besides taking away women’s rights and insisting women carry fetuses to term, these states often do very little to help people their unwanted children are born.

With all that thinking scrambling The Neurons, I wasn’t too surprised when those Neurons posted “Love Child” to the morning mental music stream (Trademark unrealized). The 1968 song was another Motown gem. Performed by Diana Ross and the Supremes, the song lyrically relates the stigma of a girl born in poor circumstances, wearing rags or second-hand clothing, and having an unwed mother. They experience guilt; they feel scorn.

Now, she’s addressing the matter of sex for herself. What if she becomes pregnant? They might ‘end up hating the child they’re creating.‘ The song deftly shows the complexities suffered by someone who is an unwanted who is now forced to address that same situation. Abortion is never mentioned. For my sensibilities, it’s there, waiting to be discussed. Remember, Roe v. Wade didn’t happen until 1973, five years after “Love Child”. Abortions were often dangerous and frequently illegal, depending on the state.

Afternote: even in Texas, back in 1968, abortions were illegal, except when when necessary to save the mother’s life. Now the great Texas legislature has decided that the mother’s life is worthless if she’s pregnant; only the fetus matters now in Texas.

Well, I hope I got that all out of my system. Hope someone is still reading. Had to put it out there to understand what I think.

Remain positive, lean forward, and Vote Blue to put us back on track toward a nation and world where women have the right to control their own body again, and a place where another’s religion or privilege doesn’t dictate everyone else’s rights. Here’s the song. Let’s have a good one, shall we?

Cheers

0

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sunzestic

Hello my fellow beings. Following the general trends of reality of which we are aware, we’ve shifted to the next elements in the sequence we’ve been following for centuries. If you’re using a solar calendar, of course. And Gregorian. If so, today is Tuesday, April 2, 2024.

Each morning when I rise, I put it out to the universe, can you slow down time for me? I’m not asking for much, just enough to finish some things on my lists while still being able to chill a little. Instead, I’m often looking at the time and wonder if someone’s pranking me by messing with the clocks and calendars. Maybe I’m being hypnotized for an hour and then awakened and forced to rush. I suspect the cats. They always appear to be sharing a secret that amuses them.

It’s warming up here today. Already at 60 F, we’re expecting the sun and air to take us to 78 F before the day is shuttered. Don’t get overly excited. As we’ve learned, it’s gonna change again. Tomorrow — Wednesday — is promising to be rainy, with a high of 55 F.

These sort of weather patterns always present me with a conundrum. The rain is good for us but I like the sunshine. I suppose, if I’m not going to be selfish, I should cheer the rain and accept it.

My floof boys are appreciating the sunshine, though. They’re airing their fur and soaking up rays, and looking sweet and charming, out there in the green grass and sun.

With Easter, I was thinking about family. Back when I was growing up (I’m now growing down, I think, becoming a little shorter each year), Mom made Easter a big deal. We dyed eggs. They were hidden. We hunted them. She presented us with elaborate baskets. Managing to prepare them in secret, they arrived on Easter morning like magic.

Those baskets were loaded. Sugar and chocolate dominated. She always ensured we each had a huge solid milk chocolate rabbit. We also had a large, lavishly decorated coconut eggs. Marshmallow rabbits and chicks, chocolates shaped like bunnies or eggs wrapped in colorful foil, and jellybeans and colorful marshmallow eggs set in plastic green grass lining the basket’s bottom finished the scene.

Then there were our clothes. My sisters bought new pastel dresses. I was presented with a new little three-piece suit and shoes, and taken for a haircut, so I was freshly groomed. I wore a crew cut then, held in place with Brylcreem. Didn’t need to shave in those days, so that saved time and effort. Dressed like that, we crowded into the packed local Protestant church to hear about Jesus and the Resurrection and sing hymns that I didn’t know.

Next, off to the Grands for a big family Easter dinner. Grandpa was in charge of making a huge Easter ham. That sucker tasted awesome.

Quite a turnout, it was. Dad wasn’t usually there. He and Mom were divorced and he was serving overseas in the military. But his family took Mom and her brood in. Beside us four and the two grandparents were four siblings and their significant others and children, anyway from twenty to twenty-five people.

Later that night, as children gradually retired on our overdoses of food, sugar, and socializing, the adults gathered to drink, smoke, and gamble with cards. Ah, Easter!

I don’t think it was the religion that made it such an awesome day. It was Mom and family, and the effort they put into it. Also, I was a child and had no responsibilities.

My sisters and Mom informed me of their Easter events via social media this year. It’s the new norm. It’s a smaller gathering. One little sister, Grandma Gina, hosted. Her daughters and her grandchildren and their spouses came over, along with another sister and her sons, and Mom and her beau. Not quite the extravaganza it used to be. I don’t think they even bought new clothes. They had plenty of food, though, especially desserts.

With these thoughts of family in my head, The Neurons delivered “Fly, Robin, Fly” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark imploding). Back when I was visiting for Easter one year, that song played on the car radio as I drove her somewhere in my Camaro. I was nineteen and in the military. She was nine, and so cute, with her straight bangs and shoulder-length shiny brown hair. As the song played, she turned to me and said, “This is my favorite song.”

Surprised me. The 1975 Silver Convention song was a disco classic, all about rhythm and dancing. Three words are repeated a few times during the song, and then there’s, “Up up to the sky.” I wasn’t into disco so much. But with my sister’s proclamation about the song, I heard it in a different way.

Stay positive and remain strong. Election day is growing closer. Lean forward and Vote Blue. I’m on my second cup of coffee now, so the day is going well for me. After writing, there’s shopping, and yardwork. Hope your day goes well. Here’s the music. It’s a fun video and will stir disco memories, if you were there. If you weren’t there, you can watch and learn.

Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Wednesday

Say hello to my little friend, Wednesday, March 6 2024.

It’s a no day here. No sunshine. No rain or snow but no blue sky, either. No wind. Just a flat gray cover tucked in around our valley.

It’s 40 F now, just 4 degrees short of today’s high, and 11 above today’s low, giving us 35 degrees of latitude. Fortunately, besides being a no day, it’s a slow day. Speaking for myself, of course.

There have been several yawn moments in this week’s news. Republicans might be mounting a campaign to oust Speaker Johnson. What? Can that be possible from the Chaos Party? Of course it can. Yawn. This is not a plot twist. It’s standard GOP formula.

SCOTUS ruled against the 14th Amendment and in favor of Trump. Yaaawwwn. No surprise there at all from that conservative body of ‘originalists’.

The RNC confirmed that they’ll keep booting funds to pay for the presumptive candidate’s legal fees. Yaaawwwnnn. Say what? Wake me up when they quit kowtowing to Trump. I think there’ll be a second coming of Jesus before we see them disavow Trump in any meaningful way.

Haley exits GOP POTUS race. Well, I hoped she’d stay in but — yawwwnnn — she was the last challenger to Trump and under enormous pressures. Not much surprise that she ‘bowed out’ despite my optimism she’d stay in and undermine Trump just a little. Meanwhile — huge jaw-breaking yawn — Mitch McConnell endorsed Trump for POTUS. What next? MTG accuses others of unproven crimes? Boebert’s family has more trouble? Moms for Liberty tries to ban more books? YAAWWWNNN.

It’s so sad. These people and their attacks on our freedoms, and their duplicity, mendacity, and hypocrisy are their established norms. So I’m yawning from the news because the shitshow is the same old, same old bullshit from last week, last month, and last year. It’s the same ol’ bull since Trump emerged and took control of that spineless party. The GOP admires and supports Trump, no matter how many crimes he’s committed, how many times he was impeached, how bigly he lost his re-election bid, how poor his mental acuity seems to be, no matter how many times he’s been married, how much fraud he’s committed, how many lies he’s made, how many false claims thrown around, no matter, no matter, no matter. That’s punctuated not with a yawn, but a disappointed, weary, sigh.

Don’t give into the yawns. Abetted by the press, Trump’s behavior and the GOP, its double standards, and its fascist authoritarian tendencies are being normalized. Rise up, lean forward, and Vote Blue. Vote like it matters, because it does if you don’t want your children’s reading material and education abridged by these white Christian Nationalists. Vote like it matters that we have a government that works, that women’s rights aren’t truncated again and again in the name of someone else’s religion. Vote like it matters that we don’t abandon allies and treaties, and vote like no one can be above the law in the United States, that people must be held accountable. Vote like you like the ideals that a more perfect union can offer us, if we have the strength and keep our vision clear.

Musically, today’s trail begins with Jill Dennison’s blog and not with the plethora of dreams from last night. Jill’s song offering was “Get Together” by The Youngbloods. It’s a song from my childhood and I greatly enjoy it. Then Rawgod posted a comment about the songwriter and included a link so we could read about him. A click later, and I was on Tom MacInnes’s website being reminded of Chet Powers. Chet Powers, aka Dino Valenti of Quicksilver Messenger Service.

QMS was sadly a short-lived group. But before they were gone, they came out with a 1970 song called “Fresh Air”. I loved “Fresh Air” as soon as I first heard it. Reminded me of Santana. I thought, this band is going places, and I was all in. They didn’t, and you can read about the reasons at Mr. MacInnes’s site. Just click the link.

Meanwhile, though, The Neurons remembered “Fresh Air” and scooped it out of memory and dropped it into the memory mental music stream (Trademark coming in 2 weeks, swear to dog). It’s all about six degrees, isn’t it? From childhood to now via the net.

Here’s the music. I’m soaking up the coffee and looking for the sunshine. Cheers

7

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: coffeebitious: a hopeful state of mind fed by coffee consumption

Thursday, February 29, 2024, has touched down. The month ends tomorrow, leaving just ten months of 2024 remaining.

I let Papi out at 6:06 this morning, the usual time that he begins crying to leave us. There was enough light that I let him out, suspecting he’d be returning in 20 minutes. Yes, at 6:30, I answered his call to come back in. I noticed it’d been raining and went by Alexa* to inquire about the temperature.

“It’s 44 degrees in Ashland,” she answered. “Today’s high is 44 degrees.”

Oh.

That’s all Fahrenheit, though she didn’t mention it. An hour later, letting Papi back in again, I discovered snowflakes big as silver dollars falling and accumulating. I checked with Alexa about the temp: 34, she told me.

It snowed for an hour more. The northern mountains and ridges were covered down to 3000 feet while the southern view had sparse snow sprinkled over the dark conifers. Now, about 11 AM, a smattering of snow remains but it’s dwindling. The temperature is back up to 41 F. No sun has broken through the sky’s uniformly off-gray cover, but the clouds are thin enough that the sun is almost breaking through. Light rain keeps windshield wipers busy.

Now to the asterisk. Current days, I find myself consulting five different weather sources, including Alexa. I have a home system that seems moderately accurate, but I constantly seek verification of its accuracy. Southern Oregon University has a weather station set up that I also check. A mile away and fifteen hundred feet lower, it’s not good for my location but it features a nice set of historic data for comparisons. A friend has set up a Wunderground station for his house, but he’s on a higher elevation and almost two miles away. Surrounded by trees, living on a mountain’s northern side, his weather varies from mine, but it’s nice to note what another part of town is experiencing. The other two are online offered by browsers and are usually fed by Weather.com. They’re not as accurate for me but they have nice forecast trend models which present some idea of what the weather will be beyond today.

Dreams swarmed my mind last night. At the final dream’s end, I found “I Remember You” filling the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). Written in 1941, I know the song well because I heard it often by different performers while navigating my teens in the 1960s. The song has been covered a lot. Most did it as a torch song. Even the Beatles did it. But the version I best knew was sung by a woman to an up-tempo arrangement. I cannot find that version and don’t know who it was singing it. Nor does Mom know.

That let The Neurons down some, but as I was searching, I came across other interesting songs. One was “I Remember You” by Skid Row, a 1989 power ballad not anything like “I Remember You” with Johhny Mercer’s lyrics. I remember hearing Skid Row’s song on the radio as I drove around to and from work and all that. While searching, I also slid sideways into “Remember (Walking in the Sand)”. The Neurons dished both the Shangri-Las and Aerosmith versions into the MMMS. More interesting to me was Lena Horne singing a song written in 1933, “Stormy Weather”. I knew that song well, too, and her voice and style mesmerized me. So that’s today’s theme music. Although several videos exist of her giving tremendous performances in her youth and middle age, I went with one when she was 80. BTW, it sounds like the guitarist supporting her might have been George Benson. Seems like his style.

Stay strong, lean forward, be positive, and vote, yeah? I’ll do the same, as best as I can. Coffee helps, and I have had a cup so I raring to go. Have a good one. Here’s the music. Cheers

0

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: enthusiastic

It’s Friday, it’s Febrary 9, it’s still 2024, it’s 40 F and it’s unrelenting cloudy. Layers of clouds, deepest dark in the forefront, light gray white serving as background, all blocking blue sky and warm sun. Sprinter has yielded back to winter. High will be a sweltering 43 F.

They’re masking the house today to begin painting tomorrow. I’m surprised by the conditions they work in, cold and rainy. But if it works, it works. We have two good guys, Brad and Gary, from Rick Stevens painting doing the work. They’re thorough and hardworking, clear professionals who have mastered the processes. Fun cheering them on toward the finish.

The weather has the cats playing in-out-in, a very popular game among floofs. Papi excels. Tucker took one turn, came back in, and headed for the bedroom and sleep. Papi, though, played at least five rounds, taking time between rounds to request food and pets. He’s a sweet little stinker.

I’m late with posting today. A few weeks ago, I wrote a little bit around a prompt about someone named Darla. I shared it with a few friends. They loved it and pestered me to write more. That wasn’t in my plans but I kept thinking about it, playing out different trajectories and concepts, etc. Today I awoke with more Darla in mind. I built out a long scene and then sat at the ‘puter and typed. With a few pauses to dress, eat, talk to the painters and my wife, and drive to the coffee shop, I wrote twenty pages today. It just kept pulling me along. Love writing days like this.

Songwise, nothing was homethere until I thought about the drive to write that piece after I stopped writing. Then The Neurons punted “Got to Get You Into My Life” into the no-longer-morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks, I promise). I guess The Neurons thought the song was playing into my writing urge. Well, okay.

This Beatle song was released in 1966, when I was ten. Paul McCartney wrote it, and in this video, he performs it at the White House for President Barack Obama, Michelle Obama, and a few guests in 2014.

Stay positive, remain strong, lean forward, and register and vote. That’s all I ask, except for coffee, security, kidness to animals, etc. Here’s the music.

Cheers

0

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: coffeemistic

Good morning to all you fellow solsters, riding Earth as we race around the sun. It’s a fine and blustery sprinter day in Ashlandia, where coffee shops and bookstores are above average. Sunshine is bursting at the seams today, Saturday, February 2, 2024, although I don’t know what seams. Just an expression I picked up from Mom eons ago. I challenged her, what seams, when she used the expression on something without seams. “It’s just an expression for something really big,” she replied. “Use your imagination.”

The cats love the sunshine but dislike the cold and wind. See, despite the sun and an outside temperature of 47 F, that wind changes the feel index, and the cats know it. This is strongly true in the shadows, and both Tucker and Papi ended up declaring, the paw with this. Though, of course, Tucker tried once and knew while Papi had to go out and come back four times to verify it was better outside.

Objective one in selling the house is underway. The house was washed yesterday. Second task is the scrapping and minor repairs. Third is the actual painting. Then we move to objective two, landscaping.

The cats’ reaction to the power washing was interesting. Tucker went to his bed spot, thoroughly washed, and went to sleep. Papi, however, watched and then distanced himself from the house. Impressively, as soon as my wife returned from her exercise class, coincidently when the painting crew left, Papi raced past her into the house when she opened the door. Straight to the food bowl the poor floof went, scarfing down kibble to make up for being food deprived for over two hours.

Today’s song is “Hand Me Down World”, a song released by a Canadian rock band, The Guess Who, back in 1970. Though more known for their hit, “American Woman”, the band had a number of other hits and I enjoyed them. The Neurons plugged this into my morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) today fifty-four years later because I made the mistake of thinking about something that was hand-me-down in the kitchen, a pie server.

I feel the same now about the song and its intentions as I did fifty-four years ago. Basically viewing it as a protest against the way things are, the song argues for change for the better. Remember that this was the cold war era, when the US and USSR and their respective allies stood ready to fire off nukes at one another in the name of deterrence. Remember, too, the pollution filling the skies, turning cities like Pittsburgh into midnight on sunny days. The Civil Rights Movement was storming across the nation, the Vietnam Conflict was still underway, and protests against business as usual in politics was a regular feature of the nightly news. Look up the history of the 1960s and you’ll read about protests in the streets and on campuses. Remember segregation and integration, the Detroit riots, the Chicago 7, police brutality, and the 1968 Democratic National Convention? Then, to cap things off in 1970 were the Kent State National Guard shootings. The 1960s were also when President John F. Kennedy and Senator Bobby Kennedy were assassinated, along with MLK, Jr., and Tricky Dick Nixon was lodged in the White House. This was the era of tune out and turn on as the hippie culture rose.

There was a lot of other things happening in that troubled era of change. All that’s the iceberg’s top. So, yeah, thirteen years old, I was ready for change, and embraced songs like this calling for it. Although we’ve made a lot of progress since then, the GOP is ready to go back to that bullshit. We’re still dominated as a nation by racism, sexism, discrimination, and the patriarchy. We’re still fighting for equality and justice for all, regardless of how they look, their gender or sexual orientation, or the color of their skin. We’re supposed to be a melting pot of different strengths, weaknesses, and differences, which was what made us strong. Progress has been made but a lot more is needed.

Yet so many people’s minds are closed against progress. Many are keeping their minds closed to be spiteful. Others didn’t keep up with change and resent that their way of life has been left behind. Others are apparently so full of hate for those who are not them that they’re ready to destroy the nation in the name of their politics or gods.

Stay positive, stay strong, lean forward, and vote like your rights depend on it. I’m coffeenated but ready for more. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: restsive (restless & pensive)

Hey to all you lifers on Earth dropping in. Hope your day is the one you visualized and worked to make so.

Today is Feb. 2, 2024. It’s cloudy and rainy in Ashlandia, where the weather likes to provide many ala carte options every day during winter and spring. Except snow. Snow is off the menu again. Supply issues.

It’s up to 43 F now from our starting point of 34 F. High is 46 F.

The Neurons have planted “Ode to Billy Joe” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). I don’t know why Bobby Gentry’s 1967 song was started today. Painters arrived at 9 AM to powerwash the house as part of the painting prep. I did some light chores as they washed the house. I know the song well, as it was a crossover hit between C&W and pop/rock, so all the AM music stations on our transistor radios were playing it. Mom was a Bobby Gentry fan, so she was playing her records at home. Then there was television. A mellow, melancholy song, it’s easy to sing along with it, and Ms. Gentry has a syrupy voice that goes down easy.

Painters have finished the powerwashing. Did it in less than two hours. Stay strong, remain positive, lean forward, and vote, please. Coffee has been consumed. Here’s the music. Cheers

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