Tag: childhood

Wenzda’s Theme Music

The Ashlandia spring churn has us in her grip. Chilly to cold nights. Depends on your body’s personal heating and cooling system. Was 39 F in the night. Now it’s up to 54 F. Heading to 68 F. Wind loaded with mountain iciness regularly clocks in. It’s sharper in the shadows.

I’ve been cutting stuff, pruning plants, weeding, trimming back grasses. Papi has taken to nesting in one of those spaces. Early sunshine washes it for a few early morning hours. Used to be Tucker’s spot. Before that, it was Quinn’s, and before them, it was the Scheckter spot. I think I still sometimes spot their ghosts curled up, sunning there in the early hours. I’ve always called it the cat’s sun nest.

Man, it was a clear and gorgeous night here last night. I traipsed out midnightish each to taste the chill and discovered a star filled black sky. Serenely quiet and fresh, a briskly solitary moment. After I was there about three minutes, Papi called out to me and trotted along to rub against my legs. “What do you think of the stars?” I asked. He purred.

Music today comes from the Beatles. The Neurons have “Helter Skelter” playing in the morning mental stream. Kicked off by a dream. I had the same dream before, but the dream went into an extended edition. Awakening, realizing it was a repeat — dream repeats already, so early in the year — The Neurons cranked up the song’s lines that go, “When I get to the bottom, I go back to the top of the slide, where I stop, and I turn, and I go for a ride, till I get to the bottom and I see you again.”

The song always called up ideas about going through the same thing again, again, once more, one more time, etc. A repeating dream was a natural dive board for The Neurons to use to jump into the song.

The song got stronger as a I read news accounts for Trump lies and declarations. “I never said that. I’d never do that.” Etc. Here we go again.

This video is Paul McCartney playing it in concert sans the other Beatles. I saw him perform it in Germany once. It’s lively energetic song.

That’s my opinion. Loads of friends and family were not “Helter Skelter” fans. When I played it on the stereo and cranked it to close to stadium levels, my little sisters’ expression looked like they’d just eaten candy covered with dog fur. “What is this?” the older asked. I laughed.

Coffee is lifting me higher again. Hope something is lifting you. Here we go, rocking and rolling on into the future. Then we’ll do it again. Cheers

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Twosda’s Theme Music

At 4:07 AM, the cat announced, “Let’s go!” Yes, he batted and chatted me awake enough to sleep walk to the door and release him back into the wild. He didn’t stay in the wild long. Cold, wind, and hunger drove him back in. “Not that wild, are you?” I asked him. He meowed back.

Thus began Twosda, April 22, 2025, much as many other days begin. Twosda and Thirstdas are the worse for me in this regard. My wife gets up early on Mun-Wen-Fri to attend exercise class. She deals with the cat between 6:30 and 8 AM on those days. But today has Papi testing the limits, in and out. I suspect he has two twins and they’re taking turns at this.

It was 39 F at 4:30 AM. If you trust Alexa. I asked it the temperature after Papi came back in. I was curious because it felt cold to my half-naked body. Like Sun & Mun, today features a clear blue-sky sauce and a glaze of sunshine with a tincture of wind and mild temperatures that lose their punch in the mid to upper sixties.

Trump continues to pile instability on instability, crazy on crazy, losses on losses. Like all great leaders, he sets ridiculous goals using ideologically-driven data, fails to take many details and factors into account, and then pretends it’s going great as everyone else prepares to get out the toilet plunger because this shit is overwhelming the crapper. He is consistently terrible and proud of it. Living in a Teflon-coated bubble, he’ll probably never recognize his insanity and the disastrous, negative impact he delivered to millions of people.

Unless, of course, his secret goal is to completely undermine and destroy the United States. That’s also possible. He could well be in collusion with Russian and oil oligarchs and are busy setting the table up to establish a powerful global cabal. Makes as much sense as any other shit he spreads.

They say that the Roberts Court is finally getting a backbone. “They’ll reign Trump in.” Ha. I think Trump is already smirking at the Roberts Court as he says, “Hold my Big Mac.” Harvard and other universities are suing the Trusk Regime. He doesn’t care. He’s already destabilized and disrupted our education systems and research programs. A third of the national NOAA weather offices have lost their leases. We’ll see what that does to the ability to warn about weather disasters. Then, Trump and Noem have been dismantling FEMA, so when these disaster squat on communities and drop a load, the state and community will struggle to recover and rebuild. Meanwhile, DOGE is raiding personal data and will probably weaponize that on behalf of Russia. He’s truncated international alliances and friendships that effectively worked for over half a century, isolating our nation. Besides all that, he’s been running due process over with a golf court.

And Trump and his supporters think this is just great. Anyway…onward.

When I first heard this Led Zeppelin song when I was thirteen, I thought, holy fucking shit. That was a startling development because I’d never sworn before that. That’s when I took up coffee, too. It all seemed to go together.

The song — “How Many More Times” — is in my morning mental music stream for reasons which The Neurons have sealed. They have better security than Kristi Noem and keep secrets more effectively than Pet (Pete) Hegseth. Not saying much, given how terrible and sloppy the Trump Regime has demonstrated itself to be, outside of the Musk-driven DOGE dogs.

Here is the music. When I listened to it today, my inner thirteen-year-old sat up and said, “Holy fucking shit.” This is a recording of a live show. Anyone familiar with Zep knows it’s gonna be a jam and will vary a bit from what was on the album.

Coffee has again insinuated itself into my body’s systems. I’m prepared to rock another day, at least until nap time later today. Hope your day is as purpose-filled as you need it. Carpe diem. Cheers

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Frida’s Theme Music

The morning was spent texting with Mom. She prefers texting these days over phone calls. She had a day of doctor appointments yesterday and provided summaries. They’re going to work on her balance with physical therapy. That’s good news to me.

Her fiance’s son and my sister both approached Mom and her fiance about moving into assisted living. They did these separately. I don’t know if they coordinated their attempt.

It would be less dangerous to poke a hornet’s nest with a stick a few times. Mom and her beau are adamant against moving to a home of any kind other than the one where they live. He’s 95 and has difficulties seeing and hearing. She’s 89 and has mobility, heart, and balance issues. She copes with those problems via a massive regimen of medications, vitamins, minerals, lotions, and equipment. The house was built during WW II and has steep, narrow steps. But Mom loves her house, and her companion is happy living there.

Observing the health issues and the home debate always prompts conversations with my wife. “What will we do?” she asks. “I don’t know,” I say. I’m not looking forward to dealing with it.

It’s Frida, April 18, 2025. Good Friday, I suppose. 63 F, sunny but windy. A high of 74 F is in the works. I don’t think we’ll see that. 68 F was projected yesterday but the thermometer quit advancing at 64 F.

The cat has expressed his irritation with the wind. He applied to my wife and I to change it. My wife patiently explains, “I’m sorry, we can’t do that. Here, have a treat instead.”

He was spoiled via several treats. Then he came to me for his standard four-course breakfast. Two of the courses are treats that hide his meds in them. The thorough feeding does take his mind off the wind. The next time I see him, he’s going through his post-eating pre-napping grooming on the bed.

I have read several news articles. Some dealing with politics and rulings against Trump please me. On the whole, though, it’s another heavy serving of disappointing developments. After hearing my GRRRRRRRRR rising in my throat, I order myself to go do other things.

Today’s theme music is a beer group relic. I met with my beer group last Wednesday. The friends beside me began a conversation about popular music and what they listened to when they were young. One commented that some lines were going through his head, but he couldn’t recall the rest. I recalled the rest for him. The song is “I Think We’re Alone Now” by Tommy James and the Shondells. Conversation then swirled in other hits by the group, such as “Crystal Blue Persuasion”. Now The Neurons have those two tunes sharing the morning mental music stream. Thus, I’m forced to share them to break the pattern and release them from my stream.

That latter song is a woke DEI offering about peace and good, brotherhood, love, etc. Sure the Trumpites dislike it, or say that they like it and are all for love, peace, and brotherhood, but only for select people.

Coffee is working its positive way through me. Hope you have a positive day and a solid weekend. Cheers

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Wenzda’s Wandering Thoughts

It’s Wenza. Middle and high school are in session. You know what that means.

2:03 PM, the murmuration of children begins. Noises double in decibels and echo like we’re in a gym. Screeches, shouts, laughter, blow out my ear drums in three second sound bites.

Cliques form. Tables and chairs are hunted. Backpacks are dumped. A line snakes out from the counter. Drinks are ordered, picked up, shared, consumed.

Happens every Wenzda when school is in session in Ashlandia.

Oddly, today, besides the sounds and visuals, the school children bring in smells of a lunchtime cafeteria. It could be roast turkey with mashed potatoes and gravy. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s just memory of another time making itself known.

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A Loaded Dream

It was a long and involved dream. Here are some dreamlights.

I was a young middle-aged man and head of a small business unit. We were located in a semi-tropical, warm, high humidity area. It was not the United States. Outside of my co-workers, the people I knew had all lived in the same huge brick apartment building. All Americans lived there for at least the first four months after their arrival in counrty.

A black 1968 Camaro Z/28 with silver stripes seen three times. A young man was driving it. In real life, I owned a Camaro but not a Z. Mine was not black and silver. Black and silver were Bruce McLaren’s original colors before he changed the team to Kiwi orange or Gulf orange. McLaren was a New Zealand driver and car constructor I idolized as a boy. I had an HO scale racing car of his black and silver McLaren Elva in my car line up.

Musical groups were offered, including the Suzy Qs. That CCR song, “Suzie Q”, was played. Sam Smith was offered, too. His hit, “I’m Not the Only One” was played. In conversation, I was told that not all offerings were available. A weird and arbitrary fashion was invoked to decreed who could be seen, and who could see them. After listening to that, I rejected that method. Said that I wasn’t going to follow or enforce it because it was stupid, and then left. That ended that.

The weekly entertainment was offered on a waxy red poster on a brick wall outside among some foliage. 80 pounds was listed as the admission price for one of them. Hearing that, I opted not to go. A friend was sunbathing nearby. I lied and told her I wasn’t going because there was a baby shower for a woman living in the building the same night as the concert.

Saw two therapists, both women. The therapists were seen three times total. I walked with one of them, talking to her about some of my career frustrations and disappointments. When I saw the other therapist a second time, she couldn’t find my records. I then told her that I’d spoken to the other therapist about that therapist, and then told that therapits what I’d told the other therapist.

Overall, a very good dream.

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Munda’s Theme Music

The space and time continuum of today says its April 14, 2025, in Ashlandia. Sunshine hunts the spaces between the blinds. Pulling the blinds, blue sky rises into place. They say it’ll reach 26 C today. That’s 80 F for Fahrenheit fans. Right now it’s 58 F. Stand in the sun and it feels like it’s over 70.

The cat is out there acting like the sun king. Yesterday was a 74 F day of sunshine. We had the back door open to let it all in. The cat came in and slept against a wall, under a window in the living room, ten feet away from the open door. He later tail rushed me, asking to be let out the front. My wife said, “You know, the back door is open, Papi.” Papi eeped back. I let him out front. He settled into a favorite space between two bushes in a patch of sun against the house. Scheckter established that spot nineteen years ago. Quinn, Lady, and Tucker owned it for many years. Papi continues to ensure it’s used.

Loaded dreams were had last night. Not a great amount of action but a load of of information. Two songs were included in the dream. One was Sam Smith singing, “I’m Not the Only One” from 2014. Startling to realize that song is already a decade old. Still feels ‘new’ to me. I think that’s how it goes when you age and time speeds up for you.

The other song was CCR’s “Suzie Q”. Hard as it was to accept that “I’m Not the Only One” is ten years old, comprehending that “Suzie Q”, spelled differently than the original, “Susie Q”, is more than 50 years old. A large slug of coffee is needed to digest that. Some serious reminiscing follows about hearing the song as a twelve year old, remembering it being played at parties and gatherings, singing along. There’s a lot of that in fifty years.

A video that fit my needs of CCR performing Suzie Q wasn’t found, so I went with John Fogerty doing the song. Hope you don’t mind.

Coffee has encroached on my systems, lifting me up again. Hope your Monday weather satisfies your scratch and that you discover the secrets needed to make it happily through more days. I’m going out into the sunshine to drink coffee and forget about this year for a few minutes. Cheers

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Frida’s Theme Music

Greetings again, world. It’s time again for Frida. Today is April 11, 2025. Those of you in ‘Merica might note the date and say, “Oh, yeah. Taxes.” I finished mine back in early Feb but held off submitting because I owe, I owe. Submitting them is on tonight’s agenda.

It’s 54 F at this point. Feels like it to me. Sunshine is a light version of itself today. Mmm, yeah, cloudy. Might rain. Might not. Might get up to 60 F. Then again, might not. This is Ashlandia spring weather.

Been reading and digesting the news. I know what I make of things. I see that on the political spectrum’s right side, they’re either cherry-picking info or hiding it. Cherry-picking as in, “Look how strong the market was Wednesday.” Hiding, as in, crickets about inflation and the price of eggs. Eggs bounced up into record realms. Rising prices were offset by Trusk Regime imports from Turkey and South Korea.

“Turkey and South Korea,” my wife said. “Wonder if the tariffs will change that.”

Looking out the window, I noted the weather change. The Neurons perversely seized the weather change and fired up “Call Me the Breeze”. They had the 1974 Lynyrd Skynyrd cover of the JJ Cale classic going in the morning mental music stream in short order.

“Ain’t no change in the weather
Ain’t no change in me
Ain’t no change in the weather
Ain’t no change in me
I ain’t hidin’ from nobody
Ain’t nobody hidin’ from me

h/t Genius.com

I enjoy the LS version but we’re not all the same, so here’s Eric Clapton and JJ Cale doing another offering.

And then we have an offerin’ by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.

I find them fine but in different ways. Hope one suited your Frida taste buds.

Coffee and I have metaphorically joined hands once again. Hope your Frida is going strong and just gets better and better, and I’m not being snarky when I say that.

Cheers

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Munda’s Theme Music

Munda’s arrived, spinning to a stop in April 7, 2025 in Ashlandia. Springy wet weather still holds here. 51 F, sunshine is having it way, but clouds are galloping in, narrowing the sun’s effect, filtering the light, darkening the day. Rain is expected. ‘They’ say our high will be 68 F. That’s what we were told yesterday. 61 F was the highest effort clocked at our house.

Quite a Hands-off turn out on April 5, 2025. These were protests against Trump’s policies and actions thus far. He’s been racing into oligarch/dictator mode since Jan. 20 of 2025. That’s when he uttered, “I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.” Since then, he’s been doing anything but that. He’s ignored judges and rulings against him. He’s deported people without due process and is ignoring our system of checks and balances. So people went out there and spoke up to tell him that they don’t approve. Initial estimates said 3.5 million turned out. That’s been upgraded to 5 million.

I believe Trump went golfing in response.

BTW, Trump said in an interview that the protests have got to stop. Which means, they must be kept going.

The Neurons have parked “I’m Bad, I’m Nationwide” by ZZ Top in the morning mental music stream. That song was brought out of my mind’s dusty recesses when I was thinking about the nationwide protests. Ah, hah! See how clever The Neurons are? ZZ Top are a favorite group of mine. Saw them several times in concert. My enjoyment of them was kicked off with high school art class in 1973, when I was starting my senior year. We were permitted to listen to music as we did our projects. Scott brought in Tres Hombres. I never stopped listening.

Coffee has been re-introduced to my biosphere but more may be needed. Our ginger floof has an appointment to see how he is responding to treatment. Right in the middle of the bloody day. Oh, well. Gotta roll with it. May your day be right in all the good ways. Cheers

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Frieda’s Theme Music

Sunshine broke on through, just as the doors urged. Frieda, April 4, 2025 is a windy, sunny, warm spring day. High and thin clouds scrub some blue sheen of the sky. It’s 52 F and heading to the high sixties.

Papi the ginger blade was so happy. At first. Prancing into a sunshine pool, he washed and lounged. Then, wind ruffled his fur and pushed his ears around. The little Butter Butt pressed to come in, pronto.

A shopping day is planned. Our household subjects have veered between Trump’s impact on our personal finances and situation to buying a bidet attachment or something. “Should we get an attachment or a seat?” my wife asks. She’s rethinking herself.

“I’ll research and report back,” I reply.

“I’m not even going to look at my 401K,” she says. She means that. I will discreetly check it for her. Keep the results to myself. Mine has lost about twelve percent of its value. My other stock holdings have dropped ten percent. It’s early, though. I consider divesting all.

Today’s strong jobs report surprised me. But, then again, no. I’ve read of substantial business closings. Layoffs and terminations. Food traffic down in stores. Sales down. I’ve not read of any companies gushing, “Look, we’re hiring! Woo hoo!” Trump’s administration puts out those jobs numbers. He’s a known liar. So are the lackeys populating his regime. I’m sure they looked at the first set of numbers and told one another, “Oh, no, we can’t publish those. He’ll fire us all.” So they doctored the jobs number to look good.

PINO Trump tweeted about it this morning. Sorry, he X’d about it. “GREAT JOB NUMBERS, FAR BETTER THAN EXPECTED. IT’S ALREADY WORKING.”

What does he think is already working? Farmers are being hit, Federal workers have been shelved, tourism has dropped and is expected to drop more. The stock market keeps dropping…well, if you’re not in the Trumphosphere, you know. Projections are not rosy. First quarter reports are going to be interesting.

A friend added comments yesterday to one of my posts. They linked to a Jimi Hendrix song, “Still Raining, Still Dreaming”. Hearing that provoked The Neurons to begin different Jimi Hendrix Experience songs in my head. I ended up with “Stone Free” in the morning mental music stream. The song coincides with my urge to take a trip, see the coast. I’ve been working on my wife for such a trip. Her stars aren’t yet aligned enough. That doesn’t stop me from joining Hendrix to sing, “I got to, got to, got to get away right now.” But I’ll hold on for my other to be ready.

Difficult to find a good video of “Stone Free”. I went with this one, despite its sound glitches. I enjoy the members playing and seeing Hendrix’s fast, meticulous playing.

Coffee has made its morning visit to my body. I’m rockin’ and arollin’. Hope you have an awesome experience today, wherever you are. Cheers

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Thirstda’s Theme Music

Thirstda, April 3, 2025, is here. The day arrived in a morose mood, dangling thick gray cloud strands over the mountains, covering the sun’s influence, and acting like it planned to dump us in moisture. Then some mystical order was given. Cosmic stagehands raced out. Clouds were shoved to the scene’s edges. Blue sky lit up. Sunshine burns down with a new hope. It was 36 F. Now we’re touching 45 F. But, hey: it feels warmer.

I stepped into the bathroom. Doing bathroomy stuff, my foot landed on something hard and mildly sharp. This was an attachment to an electric razor. One I had to trim my beard and mustache. I always have a mustache. My first mustache was noticed on me when I was fourteen. Mom told me that my face was dirty and to go wash it. “There’s something above your lip.”

My older sister laughed. “That’s his mustache.”

The beard comes and goes. A goatee is almost permanent. I’ve had it since I left the military in 1995. But the electric razor that piece attached to has been gone for over a decade. Turning it over, I pushed to understand how it came to be on the bathroom floor today. Unable to come up with anything except The Borrowers and aliens, I tossed the piece into the trash. It’s another page in my Book of Life Mysteries. I think we all keep one of those record books, don’t we?

Three songs were competing in the morning mental music stream. I introduced the first one. This was “Valley Girl” by Frank and Moon Zappa. This song capture the California valley girl subculture, and their unique verbiage. ‘Valleyspeak’ swept the nation. Too many people walked around, smirking, telling me, “Gag me with a spoon.” Variations of that phrase quickly emerged.

I was singing my variant of the song to Papi. Papi is my housefloof, feline by looks and attitude. The boy loves treats such as Churri squeeze tube pastes. My wife rechristened it chumley. Chumley is how we refer to any of those treats.

Today I sang to Papi, “Chumley cat, he’s a chumley cat. Oh my my, fer sure fer sure, he’s a chumley cat and there is no cure.”

Second up was Elvis Presley with “Blue Suede Shoes.” Carl Perkins did it first, after writing in in 1955 and releasing it in 1956, the year of my birth. The Neurons delivered this one to the mental music stream. They didn’t explain why. I was in the bathroom doing bathroom stuff when it arrived. I used to perform this song for my family when I was four or five. Hip swiveling and singing the chorus. No, video and photographic evidence doesn’t exist. I remember doing it and Mom verified it.

Third up is “Don’t Bring Me Down” by the Animals. I’m feeling absurdly young kitten energetic and happy. I don’t know why. You’d think that with Trumpzilla burning down the world economy with his outlandish tariffs, I’d be more depressed. My stocks are down. 401 K and IRA worth down. Prices are up and will go higher. But here I am, happy as the mythical lark. Sensing that mood, The Neurons introduced the 1966 song into the morning mental music stream. This is today’s theme music.

Hope you’re experiencing some of what I’m getting and your day doesn’t bring you down. Do the best you can, right? Cheers

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