Tag: childhood

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: Winbivalent (not sure if it’s winter)

My fellow Terra-zens. Today is February’s 1 in the common era of 2024. It’s a Thursday and local Ashlandia weather is trying to decide if it’s sprinter, spring, or winter. Things are blooming and growing like spring has taken over but the air has a wintry bite and colder temperatures are destined to arrive in the week’s tale end. Temperature is now 54 F after an overnight low of 46 F, on our way to a 56 F high. Rain is also expected but the wind has desisted from its menacing ways. It’s calm, with sunshine highlighting high, darkening clouds against azure sky.

So many ways of looking at the end of January, beginning of February. Like, OMG, 2024 is already a month gone. Or, less than two week until Valentine’s Day, and Christmas is less than eleven months away. If you’re going to school, you might be counting the months until you’re freed from the classroom, whether it’s remote, virtual, or physical. If you’re into the summer, you’re marking your calendar and grinning; just a few more months until summer.

This morning’s morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) is “Only You Know and I Know”. Dave Mason wrote the performed the song in 1970. Delaney and Bonnie and Friends released a cover in 1970. I was a kid then, 13-14 years old. When I heard the D&B’s version, I was taken back. First, I recognized the backbone of the melody, began realizing the song, and then realized, “This isn’t Dave Mason. It’s someone else.” I don’t know why that jarred me so much then, hearing it on my clock radio in my basement bedroom that I remember it so vividly today. Not like I’d not heard covers by different people before. One of those baffling aspects of meself. Fascinating how memory seems to work. From what I read, I might think I remember this but am actually customizing memories to fit my need.

I’m offering Dave Mason’s version first just cuz I enjoy it, and then included a D&B w/ Friends version, one of the friends being Duane Allman in this instance. Hope you like the song and enjoy both versions. Let me know how it goes.

BTW, reason The Neurons plugged this song into my MMMS is a line which goes, “You know you can’t go on getting your way, ’cause if you do, it’s going to get you someday.” And yes, I was thinking of Mr. DJ Trump on the heels of the case of Carroll v. Trump, and the finding that he now must pay 83 million dollars. I am hopeful other things will catchup with him and get him before November of 2024.

They’re starting our house-painting tomorrow by powerwashing it. I wanted to do it myself but my better half wisely talked me out of it, pointing out that it would cut into my writing efforts. That awoke the musi, who shouted, “Yikes! We can’t have that!” Having the house painted is the first step in selling it so we can move away. We’re still searching for where we’ll go. We know we’re heading to the northeastern region of the US but haven’t pinpointed it more. We figure, we’ll pack up, go back to the greater Pittsburgh, PA, area, rent a place, and then begin a serious search. That’s the plan but you know and I know that plans change.

Stay strong, be positive, and keep leaning forward. Coffee has been brewed and sipped, and caffeine is slinking its way among The Neurons. Hey, ho, here we go. Cheers


			

		
	
	

					
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Tuesday’s Theme Music
			

				

Mood: Exblueberant





Blue, blue, blue.





Today is January 23, 2024, and Tuesday. I awoke to a rich blue sky and booming morning sun. First time I’ve seen a rosy sunrise this year. The temperature was 39 F then but it’s already climbed to 52 F. Word is, 66 F might be reached. Super. 





Tucker and I saw a hummingbird flitting around our bushes this morning when we went out onto the front porch. While I enjoy this stimulating clear, warm, weather, we need the snow on the mountains to survive the summer, so come on, nature. Give us snow in the mountains. Snow could become possible, my optimistic Neurons declared. Clouds are expected to steal in, and in fact can now be seen creeping over the southern mountains. So, rain can come, and cold temperatures can return, and snow can fall. Tick, tick, we’ll see. 





Three pieces of political news struck me today. (Don’t worry, it wasn’t hard and didn’t bruise.) First up, Jamell Bouie’s simple observation in his NYTimes column.





DeSantis also refused to contest Trump’s election denialism, a choice that almost guaranteed his failure in the primaries. Can you seriously position yourself as a winner and Trump as a loser when the consensus of the voters you are seeking to win is that Trump didn’t lose?





So real; why do Republicans believe anything can change so long as they support Trump’s Big Lie? No evidence has been presented; it is simply his bombastic declaration it is so, and a legion of sycophants saying, “Yep, yep, yep, it’s true.” So bizarre, they are in that party, and getting more so.





Next, we had Rep. Pete Stauber (R). The government is financing a bridge to replace the Blatnick Bridge. Rep Stauber is crowing with pride for the bridge, these monies, and this plan, even though he voted against it. This is a common GOP tactic, and he got called out for his duplicity by many folk. Whether it’ll keep him from being re-elected is another matter; many voters have limited vision when it comes to their guy. 





Finally, in this trifecta of info, the Doomsday Clock has been updated for 2024 and it’s still ninety seconds to midnight, the closest to midnight that it’s been since it was begun in June of 1947. The thinkers behind it point to threats posed by AI, climate change, and potential nuclear war. Don’t worry, though; we’re an intelligent, sophisticated species and are capable of thinking through these problems, arriving at effective solutions, and then implementing them. Yeah. Sure. (Yes, that is sarcasm.)





Enough of that stuff. To the music! I have the Rolling Stones’ song of 1966 in my morning mental music stream (Trademark doomed), “Mother’s Little Helper”. Reading and thinking about people’s health issues, I muttered something to myself about getting old. Les Neurons pounced. Although “Mother’s Little Helper” is about the drugs being prescribed to and abused by women in the 1960s, there’s a repeated line in the song, “What a drag it is getting old.” Yes, indeed, it can be a drag.





BTW, today marks the anniversary of the day in 1957 when the Pluto Platter inventor sold his product to Wham-o, who changed its name to Frisbee and began selling it. 





Stay pos, be strong, lean way forward and vote for progress. My cells are already soaking in coffee. Here’s the music. Cheers










			

		
	
	

					
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Thursday’s Theme Music
			

				

Mood: variable





Today is Thursday, January 11, 2024. Snow flew through the skies all day yesterday except for one fifteen minute period. Other than that whenever I looked out, it was coming down. 





The temperature rose, though, so the snow was melting, and the plow truck had passed through multiple times, so the roads were clear. An ice danger remained in shadowy parts. Always does.





Then, three o’clock, the temperature dropped and a new snow assault began. I don’t know when it ended but we have eight inches in my area/elevation this morning. But the sun is shining, and blue skies are seeping through the thinning grey clouds, so it’s a gorgeous winter morning. Was 29 F when I got up. Now it’s 37. 44 is expected to be the upside. Rain is supposedly on its way but right now, no rain clouds are in sight.





The day started badly for me with a prolonged bout of BPPV – Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo. Basically, crystals in your ears responsible for your balance break loose and wreak havoc. Bursts of vertigo result, with nausea and vomiting. It’s more prevalent in people over sixty and more women experience it than men.





I’ve never had it before, but it came on strong. Just after midnight, as we were closing shop, I experienced sharp vertigo when I moved my head. Everything in my vision bounced around me and I thought I’d blacked out for a second because of its intensity. Asking myself, “What the fuck was that,” I observed it again and again. Meanwhile, my left ear was ringing. I began getting hot. Within seconds, sweat covered me, beading on my face. Simultaneously, a feeling was growing in my solar plexus. I thought I was getting hungry and was amused because we’d had an excellent dinner, but no; I was getting ready to refund dinner. 





Feeling the vomiting sensation rising with tsunami-like intensity, I lurched for the bathroom. Vertigo crashed over me with every step. I hung onto walls and furniture, pinballing from piece to piece to stay upright. I just made it to the commode. Then violent vomiting began. My wife hurried in to get the story but I couldn’t speak, as my mouth was busy with the heaving for five minutes. 





When that segment ended, I gasped out my symptoms and she charged to her computer to see what could be learned. Moving my head, I had another violent five minute session. My wife reported that she thought it was BPPV, which she’d once experienced. She also had several friends endure her, so she has so familiarity with it. With her help, I went supine to the bathroom floor. She brought me a pillow. 





I didn’t want to stay on the bathroom floor. By now, my body was shaking. Deciding to try to get up, I went into another V2 – vertigo/vomiting – episode, though little was in my stomach. Didn’t matter. I simply retched and retched. Now convinced by my weakness, shaking, vertigo, and vomiting to not move, I hung onto the commode and bathtub and obeyed the illness’s commands. 





My wife came in and told me about the Home Epley Maneuver to cope with BPPV. I resolved to try it but learned that any head movement fired up the vertigo, followed by puking and shaking. My body’s sharp spasms almost caused me to almost defecate in my sleepwear. I recognized that I wasn’t going anywhere for a while.  





It was now 1:45; I’d been enduring this for over 100  minutes and it didn’t seem to be getting any better. I couldn’t stay where I was, I decided, because new visions of vertigo and a need for sleep fed fears of my head or mouth crashing into the porcelain surrounding me. I told my wife I needed her help to move, and outlined my plan to go to the office, and sit still in there in a chair under covers, and maybe sleep until this passed. I’d take a small waste basket with me. She came up with the idea of bringing in my wheeled-desk chair so I wouldn’t need to walk, because the vertigo and its follow-on consequences lit up with every movement. 





That worked. Pulling in a second chair, my feet were elevated and the blanket put on me. Then I clutched the wastebasket to my chest and dry-heaved for a couple minutes. She went to bed and I slumbered off and on in the chair, puking a few more times. Thinking that I was tired of holding the waste basket on my chest, I eased it to the floor. That induced another round of vertigo and puking. 





At 5 AM, I needed to pee. Rising and walking with the stiffness and gait Frankenstein’s monster, I took care of business but kept my head movement to a minimum. My body expressed some interest in puking but they were mild and I suppressed them. The moving actually seemed to help. My sleeping position had been uncomfortable, so I rearranged things into a more comfortable position and turned on the television for companionship, streaming some old show. No more puking was endured and sleep finally came. I didn’t wake up until 8:30 and felt much better.





I did the Epley Maneuvers a little while ago. I’m still shaky and tired, and leery of eating anything. My wife made me a smoothie for breakfast and now, here I sit, intermittently searching the net for more info about BPPV.





The Neurons, always ready with a sick sense of humor, started playing “Dizzy” by Tommy Roe from 1969 in the morning mental music stream (Trademark crashed) because of my vertibo bouts. I know the song well. My stepfather when the song came out was George. He had two daughters. The oldest one was nicknamed Dizzy, so when the song came out, she adopted it as her theme music. 





Stay positive, test negative, be strong, and lean forward. No coffee yet today; just water (dehydrated this morning, for some reason) and the smoothie. Here’s the music. Cheerio










			

		
	
	

					
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Sunday’s Theme Music
			

				

Mood: Sunlow (Sunday mellow)





This is Sunday, January 7, 2024. It was a wintry day this morning after a 24 hours of competing precipitation. We cycled through various snow forms, slush, and pellets with fog smearing the background optics. The sun would prairie dog in to see what was happening on the ground but the air stayed chill. Looking out and seeing the situation, my wife said, “It’s good to be retired.”





Today brought us light snow in some places layered over 32 F air temp. My partner had a birthday party to attend. I’d been excused to do my thing but that plan collapsed when she saw the roads and asked if I’d go to the party. You know, so I could drive. Thus is why I’m posting late.





Good party, and worth attending, a friend, Barb, celebrating number 80. She did it right with champagne and mimosas and tables starting to splinter under the weight of food. While Barb made most, people also brought food (my wife took her five minute almond tarts, an Ashlandia favorite). (Ashlandia, where the food is above average.) To complement those food offerings, Barb also hired a crepe truck. We had choices of caprese, lemon, cinammon, or chocolate crepes made to order. With a house packed full with friends, and people coming and going from ten AM until the planned end, seven PM, how could you not but have a good time?





I went walking yesterday afternoon, enjoying the wintry ambiance. Reminded me of young years in the places where I lived where climate invited snow and ice on a regular basis — Ohio, Iowa, Pennsylvania, Virginia, Illinois, West Virginia. Breathing in cold air, same cold air scolding my skin, a little dribble out of my nostrils. Snow changes sound and light. When you’re out there alone, a sense of isolation descends. I could hear my breathing, feel my heartbeat, and entertained new thinking. 





The Neurons unleashed “Good Feeling” into the mental music stream, and it carried over into today’s morning mental music stream (Trademark frozen). “Good Feeling” is by Flo Rida and was released waaayyy back in 2011. It’s good music for me for today because despite what reality might push into my face, I remain optmistic and I have a feeling things will get better. Fingers crossed. Knock on wood.





Before I close, I want to offer this for reflection: the ‘sound’ of the solar wind. Because everything isn’t about the privilge and deprivation of this world’s people. There’s something out there beyond ourselves. This ‘sound’ comes to us unnoticed every second of every minute, hour, day, month, year. Pausing to consider it offers perspective that existence is more than this planet and what we see and hear. Yes, many reply, but this is our home, and the only place where we are — well, as far as we know with our limited understanding. 









Stay pos, be real, be strong, and lean forward. Coffee has been served; hurry before it runs out. Here’s the music. Feel free to sing along and rap along. Cheers










			

		
	
	

					
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Snowday’s Theme Music
			

				

Mood: snowy





Today is Saturday, January 6, 2024. I will be thinking about Jan 6, 2021, and not fondly, along with all that’s happened since. Not posting about that man and that day here today. 





Snow has joined us in Ashlandia, where the roads are white but need some repairs. I was able to sit down with Snow and chat with her a little today. 





“Hi Snow, welcome back to Ashlandia.”





“Thank you.”





“It’s been a while.”





“Yes, it has, it’s good to be back.”





“Can I ask you your plans? Are you going to stay in the area for a while, or?”





“Well, I can’t say. It’s all changed. Big money controls us now. Summer and I were just discussing this with Winter the other day. They’re moving us all over the place. The schedule is hectic and crazy. We never know where we’re going to be next.”





“Well, how ’bout the immediate future? Will you stay here for the day?”





Snow slide a dark smile at me. “Honey, I honestly can’t say. The money controls the weather, and I’m subject to their whims.”





“Well, good luck to you, Snow. Thanks for coming in.”





“Oh, no, save your luck. You’re the one who’s going to need it.”





Yes, we awoke to 2024’s first snow in Ashlandia. I spotted it first at cat o’clock, when I released Papi into the silent night. Fat, slushy snow globs were falling straight down but nothing was on the ground. When I brought him back in about an hour later, snow was covering the yard and pellet like flakes were spitting from the sky. Breakfast saw traditional lazy, feathery flakes gracefully drifting down to the land. We now had an inch. Post-eating, the snow was fat but earnest pellets gliding in at an angle, adding to the accumulation. 





It’s 32 F right now. 39 F will be the day’s high. 





Thinking about how long it’s been since snow visited Ashlandia, The Neurons dialed up a popular staple called “It’s Been A Long, Long Time”. Many of a certain age know it as soon as those first words are sung, “Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again, it’s been a long, long time.” Per Wikipedia, released in 1945, the song gained popularity when covered by Harry James and His Orchestra, with Kitty Kallen singing in her lovely voice. Mom listened to her a great deal and was a great admirer, so I heard her sing this song often. Many artists have covered it but I have the Louis Armstrong version coursing through the morning mental music stream (Trademark dusty) because I always enjoyed his style.





The snow has stopped falling and has melted off the cement and asphalt. It’s still 32 F. 





Stay pos, be safe, smart, and strong, and lean forward. Coffee is making its way into my mouth and through my body. Here’s the music. Cheers










			

		
	
	

					
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Tuesday’s Theme Music
			

				

Mood: groovy





Today is Tuesday, Jan 2, 2024. Weather is once again tentative and indecisive, with winter insisting that it’s his turn to bat but spring like sentiments slashing in. Wind is a bubbling bruiser again, gusting to plus thirty, and clouds mar the sun’s shine across the land. Intermitten light rain is in the air as the air temperature shifts past the late forties, a solid climb from the night’s mid thirties, with more promised. ‘They’ say we’ll peak at 52 F today.





My mood is groovy because with the 2023 holidays receding into history, I’m pushing to return to my daily groove. Back in the coffee shop — for the first time this year! — I’m starting another round of editing and revising for the novel in progress. 





The coffee shops are tres busy, surprising me. I’m forced out of my comfortable spaces into the secondary coffee shop and to the counter facing a window, my back to the room. I don’t mind the window; I enjoy ogling the weather changes, spying on birds, and eyeing people wandering the street. Having my back to the room and its inhabitants distracts me. Who knows what maniacs are back there on a computer or phone? Maybe one of the nursing mothers or the middle-old people with them will go crazy on us, or a barista will succomb to the pressure of brewing espresso. One never knows, and with my back to them, I’ll have little warning before I can defend myself.





Today’s song, brought out of hibernation and pressed into the morning mental music stream (Trademark limited) by The Neurons after some interesting dreams, is “Let It Bleed” by The Rolling Stones, circa 1969. I was originally unimpressed with this song because of a country and western twang to the vocals, pacing, and general mileau. But listening more to the lyrics convinced me that this was a sardonic twist on country western and the period it was then in of melancholy songs about life. While C&W was about life in a rough way, sometimes as coal miners or coal miner’s spouses, booze, or being down on your luck or someone cheating on someone, the Stones sang about emotional dependence, drugs and sex. I appreciated the song more as I age and now reflect on it with fondness. This particular rendition is a recording of a live version with Bonnie Raitt, just cause I like Bonnie.





I’m still digesting the dreams behind this choice, BTW. Don’t know what to make of being naked and having a female friend lay down on me at some training site. What’s it all mean?





Stay positive, pull forward, keep strong, and lean forward toward better days. Coffee has been tested and approved for consumption. Here’s the music. Cheers










			

		
	
	

					
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New Year’s Day Theme Music
			

				

Mood: hopeful





Let’s give a warm welcome to 2024. I’ll do anything to make you happy, 2024. Well, anything legal. And it also can’t be against my principles or unethical. Or anything that will embarass me. Or anything too expensive. Other than those stipulations, I’ll do anything to make you happy, 2024. I figure if we can make you happy, you’ll make us happy. Fingers crossed that you’re a happy year. I know, the odds are against you from the stroke of midnight. But I think you can overcome it.





It’s Monday, January 1, 2024. 2024 looks a lot like its predecessor so far. Blue sky with sunshine and a glowing grand fog bank billowing in across the westward view. 38 F now, prophecies are for a high in the mid fifties. In truth, our hopes would be about receiving some snow on our mountains to build up the snowpack. It remains too thin to sustain us. 





Hope you all had a new year celebration that fit your desires. Ours was on the low end, staying home, drinking nothing but water and coffee, eating a healthy Old Year’s Day meal, and then telling one another happy new year before going to bed around 12:30. It was a long way from the years where we’d dance and quaffed a few drinks before running around, doing things after midnight, shouting our accomplishments. It was all significant stuff, like, “First to pee in the new year!” “First to finish a drink in the new year! First to turn off a light in the new year. First to turn on a light in the new year.” Silly fun.





I read my friend’s blog this morning as coffee was firing up The Neurons (first to drink coffee in the new year). Jill Dennison is always a terrific read. This morning, she suggested that we start the new year with some Elton John. She provided “Sad Songs (Say So Much)”. My rascally Neurons injected “Crocodile Rock” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark delayed). Released in 1972, the song became Elton John’s first number one single in the US. Hearing it as high schoolers, we assured each other, this cat is going to be around a while. 





The song’s history isn’t pure. Wikipedia notes:





The song was inspired by John’s discovery of leading Australian band Daddy Cool and their hit single “Eagle Rock“, which was the most successful Australian single of the early 1970s (with 1,000,000 sold),[5] remaining at No.1 for a record of 10 weeks.[6][7] John heard the song and the group on his 1972 Australian tour and was greatly impressed by it.[5] A photo included in the album packaging features John’s lyricist, Bernie Taupin, wearing a “Daddy Who?” promotional badge. The song also includes a lyrical reference to the 1950s hit record “Rock Around the Clock” by Bill Haley and his Comets (“While the other kids were rocking around the clock…”).





In a 1974 lawsuit filed in the US District Court of Los Angeles by attorney Donald Barnett on behalf of “Speedy Gonzales“‘ composer Buddy Kaye, it was alleged that defendants John and Taupin illegally incorporated chords from “Speedy Gonzales” which produced a falsetto tone into the “Crocodile” song co-written by defendants. The parties reached a settlement between them and the case was then dismissed.





Taupin also stated in an Esquire magazine interview that “Crocodile Rock” was a funny song in that he did not mind creating it, but it would not be something he would listen to;[8] it was simply something fun at the time. John has dismissed criticism of the song that it was “derivative”, quoted in the booklet for the 1995 reissue of Don’t Shoot Me … as saying, “I wanted it to be a record about all the things I grew up with. Of course it’s a rip-off, it’s derivative in every sense of the word.”





Such drama for such a quaint song.





Stay pos, be strong, and have an outstanding 2024. I’m just finishing up with the first cup of 2024 coffee. In with the new, right? Here’s the music. Cheers










			

		
	
	

					
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Friday’s Theme Music
			

				

Mood: weathering





Been under the weather for the last five days but green tea, napping, and patience has it feel like it’s ending. Time, you know, will reveal if that’s true. Wasn’t too much of a sickness, you know, just some energy-depleting, momentum robbing thing lurking in my guts, drumming in my head, and burning out my eyes. Through it all, though, I’ve had positive if frenzied dreams.





Today is 12/22/23. It’s the Friday before Christmas and all through the house, everything’s about as usual. Cats sleeping, Papi on the sofa, Tucker under the dining room table. They look sweet when they sleep like that, and they are sweet boys, although they’re a little emotionally damaged from whatever they endured before arriving at our door. 





The heat is on — so is the fireplace — because it’s cold outside, baby. Was 33 F and foggy; now it’s 37, foggy, and rainy. Ain’t no sunshine taking up space in the sky. 





My wife has been baking and baking. She admits that she became a little carried away with her intentions but the kitchen is at last still, the baked goods prepared as gifts except for the ones she took with her to exercise class to dole out. 





As for the news — 





Yeah. We know. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.





Weird song stuck in the morning mental music stream (Trademark deflated). Song by The Turtles, “She’d Rather Be With Me”, released when I was eleven bloody years old, was thrown into the mmms as I emptied the dishwasher and cleaned the kitchen. The giggling Neurons wouldn’t say why they put that song in, seemingly amused that I even asked. One sputtered, “You should know,” and they all guffawed and covered their mouths like they were all in on a joke that I should know. Damn Neurons. 





This was another song learned through the 1960s routine of someone playing it on a record at home (the older sis is the culprit today) and hearing it repeatedly on TV and the radio. The video, in fact, comes to us from The Ed Sullivan Show. 





Stay positive, test negative, be strong, and take care of yourself. The holidays are almost over. For some of you, it’s a happy time, for others, we endure. Off to get coffee. Here’s the music. Cheers










			

		
	
	

					
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Wednesday’s Theme Music
			

				

Mood: prissy





December 20, 2023 is a Wednesday and carries the weight of spring. Confused by the signals the weather is giving, some flowers are blooming. We surfed a night of smooth rain, overnight lows in the mid 40s F. Our high today will bubble into the mid 50s. Casual clouds, thin and stretched, barely mask the blue sky. The cats are struggling to adjust, shedding fur after gaining their winter coats and now finding they don’t need them. Great clumps are left wherever they pause to sleep or wash. 





Please, though, give us snow on the mountains. Please. It’s needed. 





I surfed the news but left it after a short visit. Not depressing so much as it’s meh. We’re in a waiting stage for some many outcomes and perpetually checking and reviewing developments, breaking news, new revelations of old news and prognostications about what will happen has become tedious. I’m ravenous for some sense of an ending. 





Musically, first I had “Too Marvelous for Words” whirling around the morning mental music stream (Trademark pummeled). It’s been performed by a long list of crooners but Mom often played Frank Sinatra’s cover while cleaning around the house. Released in 1956, the year of my birth, it’s drummed into my musical psyche. I have no idea why The Neurons voted it into my mind this morning. 





But before it became too comfortable, a song inspired by the floofs was brought into the mmms. Released in 1972, “Children of the Revolution” by T. Rex had Elton John and Ringo Starr playing as part of the lineup. Although I enjoyed it, it went out of head until I heard the Violent Femmes version of it. A friend was colossal Femfan, and was playing the song in her car one day when we went to lunch together in Palo Alto. I asked if she knew the song’s origins, and then gleefully told the tale. I’d only heard it after my cousin, just returned from the UK where his father had been stationed with the USAF, played it. 





How did the floofs play into this memory? I’d been teasing them, trying to trick them by pretending they weren’t being fed. They weren’t fooled, which triggered me singing, “You won’t fool the kitties of the revolution.” 





Stay pos, be cool, remain strong, and leeeaaannn forward. Coffee has already touched my lips. Here’s the music. Cheers










			

		
	
	

					
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A Dino Ferrari Dream
			

									
											
							
 
					

				

Young, probably in my twenties in this dream, I was outside with my wife and some friends. Sunshine bathed us in what felt like a warm, beautiful day. 





An unknown and unseen man was telling me that he had a car for me. Excitement growing, I laughed and joked about what kind of car this guy was giving me when I looked across the way and saw the front end and passenger compartment of a red Dino Ferrari 246 GTS. 










Gasping, I asked, “Is that the car?”





See, the Dino 246 (pictured in photos) was released in 1969. I was thirteen and had discovered sports car and Formula 1 racing. When the car came out, I found it stunning. Even better, a few years later, the 246 GTS was released. This was a targa version of the same car. I’m embarrassed to admit how much I studied and drooled over photos of this car. Eventually, a plastic model was purchased and put together, and the model found space on my bedroom shelves. 










But the unseen man said, “No, that’s not it.”





Disappointment staggered me. Then he indicated a black 246 GTS sitting elsewhere. “That’s your car.”





Ecstasy fluttered through me as I goggled at the gleaming black gem of machinery. The man was explaining, “It’s not a 246, but an Evo.” Even as he spoke, I saw the flares that marked the Evo. Evos privately reworked Dinos with upgraded engines and mechanical gear, and not a targa, but a fixed top. 





I couldn’t believe that this beautiful car was to be mine. I asked about it a dozen different ways and the man repeatedly assured me, “That’s your car.” Most of the rest of the dream was spent riding around in the car with my wife, showing it off to people and explaining what it was. 





But then came a moment when I’d parked the car and found a man with a petrol hose in his hand standing by it. Going to him, I questioned him and discovered that he planned to dose the car with gasoline and set it on fire. I firmly told him, “You are not setting my car on fire.” My voice and words were enough to send him hustling and stumbling away. I then had to explain to others who came up what had transpired as the man with the hose watched from a distance. Seeing him watching, I thought, I’m taking my car and leaving. 





Dream end.






			

		
	
	

					
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