Tag: childhood

Saturday’s Theme Music

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

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Thursday’s Wandering Thought

He’d been thinking about a song earlier, a childhood favorite, reflecting, it’d been a log time since he’d heard it. Then he entered the car and headed to the coffee shop to write. Presto, the song came on the radio. Such delight. Such serendipity.

For the record, the song is “Lola”, straight out of 1970, when he was fourteen, by the Kinks. Just remembering that, he was right there, on the rear patio of the house on Laurie Drive in Penn Hills, enjoying summer sunshine with his friends and sisters.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood. Sunshine and blue skies. Presently on the mid side of 60 F, up from 52 F overnight, we’ll be hunting the mid 80s before the sun skirmishes with the falling night and carries us into a new day.

It’s June and Saturday, June 3, 2023, for more exactitude. The cats are loving this weather, right? Mostly out there sleeping in part shade, part sun. Seeing them out there, and I drift through memories. Tucker has always been a little strange about doors. He goes to the linen door, coat closet door, garage door, pantry door. A drawn out merow is issued. His meowing is either very loud or barely a whisper. No midpoint for him. When it’s a loud meow, he draws out the sounds and employs several syllables.

I ask, “What? You want into the <insert location here>?”

Head nod (yes, by him), mumbling mew sounds, a head tilt at the door in question, his look shooting from it to me, back to it, conveying his desire.

Head shake (yes, by me). “Okay, buddy.” Sigh. Door is opened. He heads in for investigation, sometimes dwelling in wherever for fifteen to twenty minutes. He’s old now, a long-furred black and white stray who chose to stay with us, showing up with matted fur and bad teeth almost ten years ago, I think. Need to check the histories to know with certitude. Point is, these demands have been incorporated in his behavior since his first year with us.

The Neurons planted “Happenings Ten Years Time Ago” into the morning mental music stream. 1966 Yardbirds song. Jeff Beck and Jimmy Page on lead guitars, I thought this song was so cool when I first heard it, one of those radio offerings that had me jumping for the radio and reaching for the volume knob. Never heard it much on the radio in the years since. Don’t know when I last listened to it. But this morning, walking out of dream sleep and into the other room to begin standard morning practices, the first lines broke out of memory and into conscious thought.

Meeting people on my way
Seemingly I’ve known one day
Familiarity of things
That my dreaming always brings

Happenings ten years time ago
Situations we really know
But the knowing is in the mind
Sinking deep into the well of time

h/t to AZLyrics.com

Wasn’t long after that before The Neurons delivered the song to a loop in my head. I think it’s a related-to-writing thing. I obsess over time, reality, and questions of what we know vs what happened vs what we think we know is one that in my novel writing. Memory is a mischief maker and history is written by the winners and then revised, leaving many of us floundering about it all. So here we be.

Stay pos. Coffee drinking has commenced. Big old cup is a quarter down already. Goes well with a cool summer morning on the patio, sunshine blazing down, cats washing in the green grass, jay yelling at us all from different perches as he surveys the yard and lands on chairs and trees. Could be a good day, you know?

Here’s the tune. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

It’s a little before 8 AM. It was already light as a cloudy day by 5 AM as the sunrise cruises closer to 5:30 AM. Floofs are fed Breakfast is et. 68 F outside, sunny, humidity of 54%, light breeze, warm but cool. Today’s high will be 83F. We did reach 93 in moi’s yard yesterday. It’s May 15, 2023. Under pretense of reminding me, my wife reminds herself, the guest room window will be replaced tomorrow, 3 PM. The guy, Chris, came 30 minutes early last time, so be ready 30 minutes early. Right, got it, I answer, once, twice, thrice, half-listening as I read.

The coffee has been poured. French roast. Smells woody, earthy, wonderful. Went onto the sun soaked back patio and sniffed it a bit as the breeze played and the cats washed.

I took a magnesium citrate this morning. Calf cramps, you know, walking, exercising, yard work, sweating. The Neurons immediately began playing “White Rabbit” by a group called Jefferson Airplane. Coming out in 1967, this psychedelic song worried Mom about what her eleven-year-old son was hearing.

The first sip of coffee has been sampled. As good as expected. Ready for more.

Stay pos. Carpe Monday. Time to imbibe more coffee. Maybe do the Wordle. Or shower and clean up. Or read? No, wait, today is food and friends deliveries.

Here’s the music. I’m off! Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

56 degrees F at this moment. Expecting the mid to upper 80s before the sun’s Ashlandia sojourn ends. It’s Friday, My 12, 2023.

Today’s heat is a prelude to a week of it. What irritates about many of these weather changes is how it jumps into hot weather and collapses into chilly weather with little warning. Why can’t we hit the middle ground and stay there for a while.

I know, I whine a lot. Everyone complains about the weather but nobody does anything. I said it here first…

I’m feeling better in a psyche way today. Dropped some anxiety and stress. I naturally gravitate to being those things although I’m weirdly known for being calm in an emergency. Three things resolved that were affecting my stress and anxiety. Got my retired military ID — now known as a an Identification and Privilege Card — issued at last. Been trying for almost a year. Picture looks pretty good, too. Look like a sea captain in it.

Second, first annual physical since I passed 65 years old. Hell, first annual physical in a looonnnggg time. Nothing untoward discovered. As part of my general hypertension, I suffer white coat syndrome. Getting the appointment out of the way was a relief although they IMMEDIATELY scheduled one for next year, so I’ve got THAT to worry about.

Third, sadly but painfully true, is that the death watch for Uncle Bill is over. Reminders of immortality, sadness about changes, another milestone in growing older all seen and felt with one strike.

I was watching my boy, Papi, an aloof ginger floof, as he watched the street traffic yesterday. He can’t help but get into a position to see what is making that noise? What is coming? Then, as the noise-maker closes in — runner, biker, walker — with or without dog — street cleaner, he turns and flees to the porch’s safety, hides behind a post and leans around, continue to watch. If he sees me watching, he comes over to be let in, and then walks around the house demanded to be let outside. The back door is open this morning, letting him come and go.

Weird song The Neurons thrust into the morning mental music stream. From 1967, it’s called “Tin Soldier” by Small Faces (not to be confused with “One Tin Soldier”, which is a totally different song). The roots to hearing it today aren’t clear. Although I had disturbing dreams, I can’t pinpoint anything from them which would call the song out. My best guess is that the mid to late 1960s was time spent around Uncle Bill, so the The Neurons expanded the sphere, bringing this song in.

Stay pos, if you can. Can be difficult, I understand. I think a cuppa coffee is in order for me now. Let the pouring commence. Here’s Small Faces. See you on the flipside.

Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Well, the sky is blue and ripe with sunshine. It’s fine weather, even though Uncle Bill passed away at midnight last night. Heart failure. He was a good person and being related to him is an honor. Not much else I can but celebrate his life and go on.

It’s 62 F right now. 75 F is expected later today, 80 Friday, 90 — some say 97 — an Saturday, kicking off a week of temperatures dancing between highs in the upper 80s to mid 90s. Appears summer is crowding into May. This is May 11, 2023.

It’s also my older sister’s birthday. Happy b’day, sister! She’s two years older than me and about eight inches shorter, and I’m only 5’8″. She’s a grandma several times over and living the life in a suburb outside of Atlanta, Georgia.

Learning of Uncle Bill’s end of life encouraged The Neurons with a 1986 Phil Collins song, “Take Me Home”. I may not be alone in this, but I’d loved to be back in that time when I regularly saw Uncle Bill, and he was young, and I was younger, and both of had forever ahead of us. Death is natural and regular, but always stirs memories up from the well’s bottom and yearning for the times and places I most enjoyed.

On a lighter note, got my new military ID today. Yes, I’m retired, but the card ‘expired’ when I turned 65, something put in place to force retirees to sign up for Medicare, which becomes the primary healthcare for vets of a certain era. Getting the card is hard. Limited places to get it in Oregon. Local Medford guard unit provides walk-in service. Well, that’s easy, isn’t it? No. The onerous system complicates matters. People line up, waiting to get in, as he goes through the process of connecting, entering data, verifying info, registering fingerprints, taking the photo, and then finally printing out the new card and verifying that its chip works. Today was my ninth visit to get ‘er done. Tried too, when I was in PA last year, where they are by appointment only. No appointments were available at any of the three nearby sites. Morgan, the infantry man who mans the office, shared several horror stories about people’s efforts to get a new card. Congratulations to him, too, who is retiring after twenty, but staying on to do the same job as a civilian. He seems pretty pleased.

Have some coffee and stay pos. Enjoy your life and forge ahead as you can. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

It’s a beautiful December morning outside the window. Snow graces the ground and plants. Clouds promise more clouds. 32 F out there but a comfy 68 in here, thanks to the heating industry. All that would be great, but this is March 26, 2023, and we’re beginning another week of spring. Someone pass the message on to the weather deities, please.

Although the Mt. Ashland ski resort is pleased, the rest of us are more perplexed than happy. Snow was not in our end of March plans. Leading the list of the dissatisfied are the cats. The in/out game is in play each morning and afternoon. Fortunately, yesterday, after the morning’s snow, sunshine bulled through the cloud cover, delivered us from the snow, and shared some shine, pushing temps to the mid-forties. The weather conductors tell us the same will be the case today. Despite the wintry scene, we will have over twelve hours of daylight, and that’s a good thing.

Today, I have “Metal Guru” by T. Rex from 1972 bubbling in the morning mental music stream. I first heard it on some late-night music show on AM radio while driving my 1965 Mercury Comet home from my girlfriend’s house. The car was a hand-me-down from the period’s stepmother, a forest-green sedan with a solid 289 V8. My girlfriend lived out in the country on twenty-some acres with no neighbors within shouting range. I lived back in a small town, Daniels, 10 miles away, about twenty minutes by the Comet late at night. I found the lyrics and its nuances mesmerizing and picked them up, singing to my girlfriend. She didn’t know what the hell I was going on about but she was used to that. I was considered a bit out there. Despite that, she married me, and we’re still together, a half century later.

I haven’t thought of this song in years. Nor have I heard it. The Neurons dusted it off after the cats and I were talking about their breakfast preferences. For some reason, The Neurons thought this intersection of action and conversation should be noted with the lyrics, “Metal guru, is it you?” Except I was singing, “Little kitty cat, is it you?” Then the rest flowed in and I realized, oh, yeah. T. Rex.

Ah, sunshine is exploding in through the eastern windows. Looks like spring is returning. Winter is melting away…again. Stay positive. Hope you have a lovely day underway whatever you’re doing out your way. I’ve just kickstarted my heart with some coffee. Breakfast awaits. Here’s the tune.

Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Morning salutations. It’s Saturday, March 25, 2023. Tucker used a querulous old man filter on his morning meow, forcing me up earlier than wanted. You know how persistence a querulous old man can be? Tucker has learned it. Anyway, the blinds were pulled up and there it was, two inches of snow. Well, they’d warned us. Snow was still falling. At 33 F, it’s not the thick stuff, but a wet slush piling up. Piling up is too dramatic; it’s just edging up. Supposed to reach 44 today, the weather masters say. So snow will stop and rain will commence. The temp will crash back into the high twenties tonight, and snow will commence again.

Sunrise was at 7:05. I can’t swear to that, because, clouds and snow. It’s just one big white slouchy pillow up there, draped down over the mountains. Pretty yesterday after the snow because we had a dramatic scene to the northeast, blackening clouds plopped on top of unkempt white and gray clouds, crashing an the snowy mountains all the way down to the snowline, where it went solid green. That’s all gone today.

About this snow, though, it graciously doesn’t stay on the pavement and asphalt, so those are clear of snow but wet. So, we’re muttering abut the snow because this is spring, thanks, and, like white shoes, snow is supposed to have its season. But we’re are pleased that driving is not impacted…much. The snow adds to the bank and we’ll need that this summer. Probably. I’m guessing.

The cats saw the snow, felt the cold, ate, and announced, “Screw this,” and went back to sleep.

Shelters are open for the homeless but it’s not a clean scene. Hot meals are served twice a day for them but at another location as the shelters are basically churches and the library. Some homeless are camping in the parks. I’m fine with it in principle but locals around those areas complain about the smells that end up arising because of people using alleys and areas around the parks as latrines. That also makes it a health hazard.

The Neurons’ music choice came out of a memory track. The track began by generally walking and thinking. Somehow, Cream and “Badge” emerged from sleeping in the gray vaults to play in my head. After they played, I recalled that a female group had once come out with their version of “Badge”. The Neurons were sent to excavate the name. Eventually it came back, Fanny. I’d mentioned Fanny to several people through the years but nobody ever knew them. My mind questioned whether they existed in this reality or it was something I’d made up. Perhaps, gentle suggestions were made, I had the name wrong. All possible.

But with the net, I looked up Fanny this morning and confirmed they were real. Then I found some terrific videos someone had made of them. Time was spent listening to them, enjoying the sound. I played “Badge” but also several other videos, including, “Hey Bulldog”. I always enjoyed it, so here it is.

Already had coffee. Soon as I saw the snow, mind ordered it now, hot and black. Stay pos and take the day. Here’s Fanny – hope you enjoy them. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

I began the day by asking GPT4 via Bing to write about Ashland, Oregon today. Here is the response.

Ashland is a city in southern Oregon that is known for its cultural and natural attractions. Today, the weather was cloudy and cold, with a high of 45°F and a low of 27°F1. Some of the things that people could do today in Ashland were visiting the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, hiking in Lithia Park, exploring the ScienceWorks Hands-On Museum, or enjoying the local cuisine and art2. Today was also a day of news for Ashland, as some Starbucks workers continued their fight to unionize3, the Mail Tribune announced its closure after 115 years of operation4, and a bill to create a guaranteed income program for Oregon sparked debate5.

It’s interesting, like a school paper. Doesn’t tell me the day or my favorites, sunrise and sunset. Told me a news summary and the weather.

A number of things prompted my choice. I’ve been using GPT4 via Bing for about two weeks. Getting into dialogues with it is interesting. Meanwhile, Creativindie.com used GPT4 to write some science fiction. Here’s a sample.

Beneath the cathedral of indigo heavens, where constellations danced like divine jewels, a solitary figure traversed the twilight realm. The forest, an intricate tapestry of shadows and whispers, bore witness to his journey. His gait, a melody of steps whispered into the hallowed earth, carried him onward like a specter of dreams.

The air, heavy with the scent of ancient secrets and verdant life, caressed the wanderer’s face. Gossamer strands of otherworldly mist, entwined in the tresses of nocturnal blooms, played with the edges of his cloak. Above, the moon, a luminous pearl suspended amidst the cosmos, bathed the world in ethereal opalescence.

The wanderer’s eyes, twin oceans of liquid azure, were imbued with a tale of a time long forgotten, and his heart resonated with an unyielding determination. He bore the weight of an untold legacy upon his shoulders, a mantle woven from the threads of fate and chance. His destination shimmered like a mirage on the horizon, a promise, a whisper of hope as ephemeral as the morning dew.

End GPT4

Any thoughts?

Let the record establish that this is Friday, March 17, 2023. Sol spread sunny wealth across the winting land at 7:20 and twelves hours later, sunset takes place at 7:20. It’s an Ashlandia equinox. It’s St. Patrick’s Day. I don’t celebrate it as I once did. Not even wearing green…yet. I’ll don green fleece, I suppose.

Personally, in another sign of life and progress, my niece’s 38th birthday is today. She has three boys of her own now. It’s one of those holy-cow moments.

I have Harry Nilsson and “Jump Into the Fire” from 1971 in the morning mental music stream. This is because the drummer on the song, Jim Gordon, passed away this week, 77 years old. Suffering some issues, he’d murdered his mother and died in a medical and psychiatric prison.

I feel like a good day has begun. Stay pos. Coffee has been tested and approved for my consumption this morning. Of course, I’m self-regulated – inspector, tester, approver. Now strong checks and balances built into this system.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

White billows of clouds push and pull across the blue sky. Sunshine bullies the southern and eastern views. “Gorgeous,” the cats say.

I agree with them. This Friday, March 10, 2023, it’s 39 F outside but sunny, with a high of 50 expected. Showers for the next five days, the weather minions tell me with a wink. Highs about 50 F, low of 36. Ashlandia’s weather is sliding closer to its norm. The winds have settled into an infrequent light breeze, but they gave us a rainy tussle yesterday, shoving people around, fighting against car doors being shut, trying to rip hats and clothes off, and mangling umbrellas.

Today’s sun presence began at dawn, a little before 6:32 AM, and will continue for almost twelve hours. All that changes on Sunday. We’re springing ahead. Sunrise won’t be until 7:30 then, but we’ll have more shine on the day’s tail end. Of course, it means less sleep because if I get up at my usual time, it’ll be an hour later.

I have the song, “Magic”, by Pilot (1973) in my head. Dream stuff. In the dream, I was going through an almost empty city looking for magic. While it was a modern city, I wore dusty old white robes, bit torn, with sandals, and had been walking for a long time. At first, I didn’t know what I was looking for but then, in the dream, it came to me, I’m looking for magic. With that, I started the air for magic, following my nose, letting it lead me, and then looking. I came across others and spoke to them about it, and sometimes cars would drive by, but no one was helping me. I stayed on my own. Then, voila, walked around a corner. There was a aluminum briefcase against the wall. With some surprise, I knew it was mine. I thought I’d lost it years before. Opening it, I found magic.

Thinking about the dream later, I kept wondering what did I see in the briefcase that I knew it was magic? But, like the movie Pulp Fiction, I never saw the briefcase’s contents. Gold didn’t come out of my briefcase, though, and I never thought or said it was beautiful. Then, though, The Neurons came through with Pilo out of my childhood.

Stay pos. This is Friday. Pretty exciting, huh? Well, all kinds of approaches can be employed for Friday. Me, it’s Friday, time to write again, woo-hoo. That just might be my coffee shouting. I’ve had a cup already.

Here’s the song. Cheers

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