Tag: coffee

Grenday’s Theme Music

Mood: Coffeerockin

Good morning to you on this Grenday, January 5, 2025. It’s a foggy-cloudy-sunny-raining day out there. Eastern sunshine is narrowly prevailing, giving us a grey Sunday, or Grenday. Currently, we’re sitting at 42 F in our valley with a high of 51 F possible. All this is an improvement over yesterday. It saw us have a few minutes of sunshine. Hours of subsequent cold rain turned it into a gloomfest.

So today is better! Not better than places which are warm and sunshiny, but better than places smothered in ice and snow, wrecked with winds and burdened by freezing temperatures. Yes, definitely better than them.

A bright spot is that snow has accumulated in the mountains in southern Oregon. Our snowpack is at 164% of normal. That’s good news for the summer, as we depend on that slow melting ice to keep our cisterns, reservoirs, streams, and rivers filled during the long hot months when rain is rarely experienced. And it’s good to have the ground soaked again against another drought striking up. The wet ground and vegetation is a significant buffer against wildfires starting and spreading. So, it’s all good news, as long as it can be sustained for another month. That puts me at a point of grimacing agains the rain and mildly chilly temperatures with its gloom, and cheering for it for what it brings us.

Today’s song is an upbeat one. Last time — only time — that I shared it on here was when the lovely Quinn was diagnosed with lymphoma and living out his final month. Such a sweetheart, but that’s how life treats us all, regardless of how we live or our merits and debits. Unlike then, the cats are not to blame for the song’s morning mental music stream (Trademark spinning) residency. Jimmy Eat World came out with “The Middle” in 2001. Written when the band had been dropped by their first record company, it’s an upbeat rocker with some affirming lyrics.

Hey
Don’t write yourself off yet
It’s only in your head you feel left out or looked down on
Just try your best
Try everything you can
And don’t you worry what they tell themselves when you’re away

It just takes some time
Little girl, you’re in the middle of the ride
Everything, everything will be just fine
Everything, everything will be alright, alright

h/t to Songfacts.com

Today, the song emerged after I witnessed the clouds moving out, letting the sunshine wax bright.

Coffee and I have achieved cofftente. It’s kind of like detente but it’s not. Here’s the music. Hope an awesome day carries you through to tomorrow. Cheers

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Tursda’s Teme Music

Mood: Yawninspired

It’s a nice day for a white sky, Billy Idol might have sung for today. A flat white sheet mottled by gentle grey moguls hangs loose across our valley. A little blue slips in from the far western edge on my field of sight. Sunshine chips through where it can, coming in with a fair facsimile of light. 46 F, windy, it rained last night. Might rain today. Might achieve a 51 F high.

This is Tursda, January 2, 2025.

Many are not aware that January has an interesting populist origin to its name. The first part of the year in the nothern hemisphere was often dark, cold, and quiet except for storms. Outside wasn’t a hospitable place. Inside caves, huts, and other primitive dwellings, not much was going on, either, as a lack of light, Internet, and decent heating kept folks huddling. Those first months became known as Jawnsuary. That j was actually a y; the period was Yawnsuary because they were so dull and boring. Later, the first month of the year became known as January to appease the god, Janus. Winter festivities were promoted to lift people’s spirits and change their attitudes. Religious leaders told people, “The cold, darkness, and suffering is good. It helps you appreciate the light and warmth that comes later. Snow is good. Look at all that you can do with snow. Have a drink, you’ll come around.” High priests built the first snow churches, snow men, and snowballs. Religious leaders led the way in going outside to have fun in the snow. That’s why religious leadership often wore heavy black, red, or blue robes. To stay warm outside, and to be visible in the snow. That’s a fact, jack.

Today’s music started last night when I, reading some news reports, dubbed some people as crazy. I know, it’s not nice, and often maligns people with genuine mental health and emotional issues by lumping those who are deliberately delusional, greedy, evil, and corrupt in with them, such as certain right-wing leaders. Anyway, catching a sniff of those thoughts, The Neurons came up with Gnarls Barkley and their offering, which is just called, “Crazy”. It’s playing now in the morning mental music stream (Trademark impaired). This song is not to be confused with the song, “Crazy”, covered by Patsy Cline, and written by Willy Nelson. They do have things in common in their lyrics, like believing something which is a delusion. I’ll include them both so you can compare the two different but impactful songs.

Stay groovey and be hip. Coffee and I have renewed our vows for 2025. Here’s the music. Let’s go get ’em. Cheers

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Wezda’s Theme Music

Mood: Firstdayfever

It’s a day of firsts. First day of bloated rain drops clunking down on us. First day of gray fog tongue lapping around everything, licking up the sunshine. First day that it’s 38 degrees F with light rain and a high of 46 F on the afternoon’s horizon. First day of Butter Butt (aka Papi the ginger blade) whining for freedom and first day of Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) begging to see what I’m eating. Yes, it’s Jan. 1, 2024. A new year.

Today’s music was heard in the car yesterday. Hooking a few loose Neurons with its vocals, they began whispering and humming it throughout the evening. By this morning, they’d swayed other Neurons into joining them. Now they’re all singing it together in the morning mental music stream (Trademark first).

I knew little of the song or the performer. Looked both up when I came home yesterday. The song, “Lose Control”, was released by Teddy Swims in 2023. June. It peaked at number 1 on the Billboard’s Hot 100 in March of 2024. News to me; it was relatively fresh to my ears but my wife knew it. Guess I wasn’t tuning into the right stations. I’d not heard much of Swims and the net tells me that he didn’t get much recognition until this song made it. Well, I’m happy he’s achieved success with it. Hope you enjoy.

Continuing my day of firsts, I must finish my first cuppa coffee, take my first shower, do my first shave and my first exercises. We’re not really ones for celebrating a new year. The shadows cast from 2024 shave our hopes for the new one. Today’s festivities won’t be about welcoming 2025. We’re instead taking an ice cream cake to a friend’s house to celebrate her birthday. I will echo what a friend passed on to me: courage.

Cheers

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Twosda’s Theme Music

Mood: Coffeemollified

This is it, 2024’s final day. Twosday, December 31. Seems ordinary in every way when I just look out the window.

Winter has descended. Our temperature is muscling to 30 F. The high will be 42 F. Sun shimmers through fog’s pearly teeth. Frost crisps grass blades into white shoestrings. No snow or rain falling. While walking in late afternoon yesterday, though, I looked across the valley. A fog line huddled against the mountains at about three thousand feet. Above the fog, a snowy mountain ridge turned apricot by the setting sun stood sentry. Now that, I thought, looks cold.

My Neurons took to quizzing me as I took care of brekkie duties, asking me who starred in different televsion shows and movies. Yes, I agree, it’s an odd thing to be doing. Then they pivoted, “Okay, who sang the ‘Friends’ theme music?” Easy peasy, the Rembrandts, right? “Now name the Supreme Court Justices, smart guy,” The Neurons returned. Before coffee? I protested. That’s hardly fair.

Today’s music was brought in by The Neurons when my wife and I were driving home from a shopping expedition yesterday. The radio played Luke Combs’s version of Tracy Chapman’s song, “Fast Car”. My wife commented that it revitalized her sales, especially after the Grammies, when Combs and Chapman performed the song together. We then talked about how good her first album was. That resulted in The Neurons installing another song from the album, “For My Lover”, in the morning mental music stream (Trademark tariff protected).

Coffee is now approaching The Neurons with a peace offering. Yes, it’s caffeine. Usually sufficiently mollifies The Neurons into being more companionable. Hope your final day of 2024 is memorable for you in good ways. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sa’day’s Theme Music

Mood: Grrrrumpy

It’s raining again. Alexa notified me at 8 PM (or 2000 hours if you prefer) that it was going to start raining near me, starting around 12 AM and going intermittently until 8 PM. About 1.3 inches of rain was expected.

I was listening to the rain hitting the roof, pinging off the vents, splattering the windows, and asked, “Is it raining now?”

“Rain is expected to start at 9:30 PM.”

“Alexa, feedback. It’s 8 PM and it’s raining now.”

Rainy, gray, it’s warmish again, 50 F with a high of 52 F suggested and a low of 46 F. The gray light slanting in through the windows does nada to brighten my mood. Fog swirls around mountain pines and peaks. Dark and pretty in a tragic “Wuthering Heights” sort of fashion.

A perusal of news headlines has me opimistic for 2025. (Yes, that was snark.) Things like the costs of owning and driving a car are jumping. This was a California story. The average price paid for a new car was over $47K. Now it’s jumped to over $52K. And insurance is climbing as well. Again, it’s California, but what happens in California usually ripples out. And, this is before any PINO Trump tariffs are issued.

Then a jolly story covered how the Alum Rock school district is closing or consolidating schools. Oh, boy, let me quit reading that.

Another story told me eggs, already pricy, are going up because of the bird flu. And a related news article informed me that animals were dying from being infected with the bird flu from eating tainted meat.

Next came a recounting that those anti-vaxxing efforts in Louisana are having an effect. Louisana is seeing cases of the flu climb. Surprised? No. They’re one of two states in a ‘Very High ILI’ category. The other state is…Oregon.

What? My state. WTF? Chasing that down, I learn, gosh, vaccinations for COVID-19, RSV, and the flu are trailing data from last year, which was already trailing data from the year before. So the flu, etc., are up.

Grrrrrreat. Yes, that is sarcasm.

I got out of the news before I turned to the national and international scenes. Mood was cratered enough, thanks.

The Neurons already had music picked out and going in the morning mental music stream (Trademark sagging). “Forty Days and Forty Nights” is a 1956 blues number by Muddy Waters. The Neurons had it in my head solely on the line, “Sun shinin’ all day long, but the rain keep falling down.” Yes, it hasn’t been forty solid days if I judge on empirical evidence; it just feels like it to the wife, me, and others who engage in conversations about the weather. The ground is saturated. Rivers and creeks are up. Flooding is possible. On the possy side, our drought seems over for our part of Oregon. Other parts of the state remain abnormally dry.

Could be worse, I remind myself. We are not snowbound, etc.

The Forty Days version I selected was a Steppenwolf cover. Mom bought me the album, Steppnwolf 7, for Christmas in 1970, when the song and I were both fourteen. It has sentimenal attachments to me, see.

Okay, coffee and I have worked out an arrangement for this morning whereby I’ll brew it and pour it into my mouth and swallow. Seems like I’m doing all the work here, but I benefit from it. I don’t think coffee gets anything except perhaps some emotional satisfaction from helping me through the day. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sinda’s Theme Music

Mood: Sindawriting

The calendar declares that winter has officially entered the stage. Still feels more like a good fall rather than early winter in Ashlandia, where Teslas are found around every corner. A riled up wind is carousing around the neighborhood, stirring things up. Doesn’t sit well with our floofs. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) says, “Merci, non.” But Papi the ginger blade insists on thinking, “Maybe it’s different now,” every fifteen minutes. Temperature isn’t bad at 49 F on this winter day, Sinda, December 22, 2024. Light rain and a high of 52 F are expected. Visuals say, yeah, that can be done. Clouds in varying densities from sheers to cotton layers in heather, oatmeal, off-white, and charcoal, pleasingly illuminated with eastern rising sunshine, set off against brittle blue sky, parade along the sky walk.

Today’s song is “Boys Don’t Cry” by the Cure. I don’t know why it’s in the morning mental music stream (Trademark blustery). I only remember one dream and it seems wholly unrelated to its tale of databases, strawberries, and fried food. Just in the kitchen, bustling about with floof feeding activities as Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) asks again about when he’s going to have his order delivered. Click, clink, bonk, the song is playing in the mmms and I’m humming along.

Done with the morning cuppa. Went down well. Brekkie is finished. Dressing’s final touches of shoes, socks, coat are needed, then I’m off to the coffee shop to cavort with muses and do the keyboard finger dance. Hope your day gives sublime satisfaction, no matter which season or weather elements are encountered.

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: eeeeeaaaaaauuuuuuuuuahhhhhhhh

Just tired today, you know? Like I’m an inflatable man with a slow leak. Bent over as I sit, air seeping out, growing smaller, more flaccid, more bent.

Haven’t had coffee and brekkie yet. That might change the self-impression.

It’s Wednesday. December 18, 2024. Almost 50 F out, a wind mutters and sings like it doesn’t know all of the words. Sometimes it remembers most of the chorus. It rained in the early morning. It’s to begin raining and keep raining for most of the afternoon. A sun is been pasted into the sky among the pillows of unwashed clouds. Peeks of blue sky skittishly open and close, an amateur fan dance. Gonna get to 53 F. Not bad for the verge of winter.

Some news begins like an ugly joke. Hear the one about the bear falling on the hunter? But it’s not a joke. It’s a stupid slash of life. Bear was treed. Had been shot by the hunter and another hunter. And it fell on the hunter, who died. I’m happy for the hunter, who after all, died doing what he loved: killing other creatures. Lester Clayton Harvey Jr.

The friend turned out to be a son, and there was a group, hunting and chasing that bear. And the son, yes, says, Dad died happy.

“Dad was doing what he loved most, bear hunting with me and some of his good friends when he was injured,” his son wrote in a post on his Facebook page Dec. 11. The post included photos of the group hunting, with a bear in some of the shots.

They don’t mention if the bear died in the story. That omission speaks volumes as they praise the hunter. Caption showing a picture of the bear accompanying the article says, “A black bear climbs up a tree. A 58-year-old Virginia man is dead after a bear fell out of tree and struck him during what appears to be a hunting accident in Lunenburg County Dec. 9, 2024.”

Which isn’t what happened. Look at they shade that tale. The man died when he shot a bear in a tree after he and a group chased the bear into the tree. Reacting to its wounds, the bear fell out of the tree, killing the man.

I notice my computer is slow today. As if it’s affected by the same low-key blahs afflicting moi. Maybe it’s a December thing. The Neurons have picked up some cosmic playing which eventually unfolds and refolds into Cream playing “Crossroads” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark pending). Ah, that’ll do.

Off to make coffee and brekkie. Find something for my spirit and body. Have a better one. I believe I’m sinking down. Cheers

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Sa’day’s Theme Music

Mood: coffeelifted

We’ve punched into Sa’day, 12/14/24. The line for Ashlandia’s day is 41/46/36, meaning current-high-low. But my system’s reading informs me it’s 39 in our cut of existence. Rain is falling. It commenced yesterday and didn’t let up. Hungry gray clouds have descended, eating off the mountain and tree tops like a parent going after their kids’ holiday chocolate.

Wising up to the weather, Papi is demonstrating a willingness to be flexible about going in and out, doing less of that, opting into remaining in warm, dry shelter, i.e., le house. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) shows little interest in answering the question, “What’s the weather like out there?” He’s more inclined toward floofosphical questions like, “What’s in that bowl? What are you eating? Can I have some? Why aren’t you giving me any?” He asks these questions with bright-eyed optimism and rapt adoration. You know how it usually ends.

Went to a gospel holiday concert last night. Ashlandia’s Rogue Valley Symphony collaborated with with the Oregon Shakespeare Festival to put on a concert at the Bowmar Theater. The Florida State University Gospel Choir and their three-piece travelin’ combo — bass, drums, keyboards — were invited in, along with a soloist named Marques Jerrell Ruff. By happenstance, I ended up seated by the night’s sponsor, the guy who gave them the upfront funds to make this happen. He’s done a lot of good philanthropy work in our small town. For instance, if you ever visit Ashlanda and visit the plaza, you can check out the mural of our sister city that he and his wife commissioned. It was pleasant chatting with him about his good deeds and some mutual friends we admire.

Portion of the Guanajuato mural in Ashland, Oregon.

The concert was uplifting and fun. I definitely recommend it. Mr. Ruff and the FSU Choir are amazing singers and awesome entertainers.

It’s been a busy week and it ain’t over. Tonight is the annual Swedish Smörgåsbord at a friend’s house. Tomorrow is the Santa Claus brunch at Callahan’s on Mount Ashland. My ankle is handling most of this well, although I do reach a point toward the end where I’m ready to rip off my shoe and sock and elevate that puppy. Haven’t done that yet, despite the temptation, principally because my wife would kill me if I did.

Jill Dennison inspired The Neurons for today’s music choice. Jill is a prolific, intelligent, and insightful blogger. I admire her thinking and principles, and we frequently exchange comments. She apologized for her mood in one recent post. The Neurons responded by placing Nirvana singing “All Apologies” from 1993 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark buried). So, here’s to you, Jill.

I met coffee on a blind date in the kitchen this morning. Now I’m singing its praises. Hope your day is as excellent as circumstances allow. Here’s the music. Cheers

1

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: Satisthursday

Recalibrating…recalibrating…recalibrating day…date…time…weather.

All systems indicate with uniform agreement, this is Thursday, December 12, 2024, as expected.

What to expect from the weather is something else. The winds have abated. Rain heralded the morning hours. But the off-white canvas that stretched overhead from valley end to end at dawn is shredding and tearing. Blue sky and sunshine are poking through. As the cloud cover shreds, the curls turn dark and mean looking. A few coalesce into hulking, brooding bodies…but they sail on, leaving my field of vision.

It’s 41 F out, just four small degrees of separation from the projected high. It will be some variation of a late fall, early winter day. Details are still collecting.

Just saw a headline announcing that Meta — Facebook’s overlord — donated $1,000,000 to Trump’s inauguration fund. They didn’t contribute to President Biden nor Trump’s first inauguration campaign. This confirms the slide I’ve witnessed in my perspective of their ‘community standards’ enforcement. There’s a nasty authoritarian, fascist stench coming from that site. It’s also getting more sucky in its content, with ads and clickbait becoming its overwhelming offerings.

Saw my surgeon in a post-op follow up regarding my ankle surgery yesterday. He lifted movement and activity restrictions off me. Yes, some swelling is still evident, and yeah, edema swelling has caused some complication, but the general trend is going up. I’ll take that.

Heavy mental fog surrounds the morning mental music stream’s current occupant. “The Man Who Sold the World” is a David Bowie composition. Came out in 1970. The song resides on several Bowie albums in my music collection. The cover in my head was done by Kurt Cobain and Nirvana, and was released in 1995. In both, the enigmatic words are influenced by Bowie and Cobain’s vocal deliveries. Always gives me pause to consider what’s being said and fuels a search for meaning. Can’t say I always achieve that. As to why it’s in today’s mmms (Trademark sold), it might be just a general response running through my mind that so much of the world is simply selling out, so the Neurons countered with music about not selling out.

Side thought that comes with writing about Cobain and Bowie that it’s dissatisfying that both passed away. But the duality of life remains: they had great gifts and shared them with us. Of course, the full stop finish to the reflection is, this is life. We live and die. The difference is made in the gap between the beginning and end.

Let’s get positive and move through this winter of disappointment and on to a brighter spring. Coffee has planted its energy seeds in me. Time to move it, move it, move it. Here’s the music. Cheers

2

Saterday’s Theme Music

Mood: Saterbabbling

It’s fun to hear inflections and dialects as folks address the days. Someone the other night sounded like there were saying ‘Saterday’ instead of ‘Saturday’. I mentioned it to my wife. She frowned and asked, “Is this a difference?” To me, yes, I heard a difference but I could be crazy.

Well, it’s Saterday, December 7, 2024, the anniversay of a day which will live in infamy, as they say. I wonder if younger people are still taught about the attack on Pearl Harbor? Or do they just pick up knowledge about it from books, movies, and TV?

A white brick of a sky overlays our valley. Sunshine is trying to chisel through but it’s a listless effort. We’re cooking along at 36 F now, ready to storm up to 49 F. The threat of light rain is dangling over us. Not bad as far as an autumn winter day goes.

Cycling through news stories I read up on police officers illegally selling guns. Not just a few but in twenty-three states. They’re usually senior law enforcement personnel. Leading by example.

Then there was the gem about using private school vouchers to pay for horseback riding lessons. Marvelous. *snark*

Finally, the GOP is creeping out with earnest statements about cutting social security. Do recall how they insisted that President Biden was lying when he mentioned they had those plans? Classic bait and switch GOP, luring MAGA supporters in with one lie and then giving them something else.

Looking forward to when MAGA awakens to how they’re being screwed.

BTW, I shared the CBS news story about the police illegally selling guns on my Facebook feed. It’s something I rarely do these days but I thought peopl should know this is happening. FB removed it. Said it ‘violated their community standards’. Which, using the transitive property, means that truthful news stories violate Facebook’s standards. They called it ‘spam’; yes, the truth is spam for FB. Sounds kinda Orwellian. That’s the bottom line for that sinking enterprise.

Reading of the election results and other things being ‘explained’, I couldn’t help but think that a lot of it is just babbling. Pundit babbling for the most part, with some strategists thrown in for flavoring. Responding, The Neurons plugged “Psychobabble” by the Alan Parsons Project into the morning mental music stream (Trademark unravelling). The song’s last line seems fitting: “I don’t care, it’s all psychobabble rap.”

Let’s get positive, lean forward and move forward. Coffee has been re-introduced to my biosystem. All systems are go. Here’s the music.

Cheers

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