Nosunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Chillsunsational

It was a morning of listening: that sounds like rain. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) at hand we burrowed deeper between warm covers. Another noise struck my attention: ah, the heat was on. Sleep was waving me in for another go-around when a more familiar sound rolled over my eardrums.

Papi wanted in.

Activity associated with letting Papi in served to trigger Tucker’s appetite. Jumping down, he barked in a loud scratchy meow, “Breakfast.” Catching on and always the opportunist, Papi yelled, “Me, too.” So that was it. Time to rise and face Sunday, October 27, 2024.

Reminder for most ‘Mericans: we do as Cher urges, more or less, and turn back the hour next Sunday.

It’s a bleak Nosunday outside the windows. One fat lazy cloud has claimed the sky with a gray cloak. Rain has lessened its profusive flow and now spits at us with a little contemptuous attitude. The temperature hunkers at 51 F. Never fear, as it’s destined to climb to 52 F. They tell us that it feels like 56 F. That’s a tiny comfort.

Need I mention that the cats went out and returned quick as a cat. Papi did it three times, per the Interflooftional Standards for In & Out. The standards state that once is a floofcident, twice is a cofloofcident, but three times is a trend.

With the rain chilling our vibes, I kicked on the gas fireplace. A survey followed to check how the rain fell. It was my contention that no rain hit any window. A thanks is owed to our wide eaves and covered porches for that. But back in the living room with my observation confirmed, coffee joined me, and I watched the fireplace.

“Fire & Rain.” The Neurons began it forthwith in my morning mental music stream (Trademark damp). I’d featured the James Taylor song back in 2017. In that post, I mentioned how I associated it with a young crush on a girl named Susie. Wonder what she’s up to these years? Will she vote for Harris or Trump? She was intelligent and intent on a college path. Her mother, who I met briefly twice, came across as an energetic progressive, but you know. People’s opinions and voting preferences change. Sometimes they skew with unexpected directions and impulses.

Be strong, remain pos, and vote blue in 2024. Coffee is doing its utmost to keep me warm and energized. Here is the music. Cheers

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Freshcoffeesion

Oh, it’s Friday. October 25, 2024.

Fall is bracketing our valley. Clouds sprawl across the sky at different altitudes. Several cloud styles are in evidence, and they wear fifty shades of gray and blue. Sunlight finds cracks and rushes down in bold pools of bright light but the air is chilly. 62 with a sullen wind, we expect 72 to define today’s high temperature.

Empty Bowls to raise money for our local food banks is tonight. My wife is busy setting creating the centerpieces for the tables. I used to be involved with it, but she gently moved me aside and replaced me with Barb. Barb just celebrated her 96 birthday, but she loves making centerpieces. It all works out.

I have daughters in my mind today. First my current novel in progress deals with mothers and daughters. And sisters. Those are important and complex aspects of the story told. Second, I have four sisters, and several of them deal with Mom as my proxy. Mom can be challenging and often frustrates my sisters. Frustrates me, too, but my sisters reach out to me to vent.

Third, I have another friend who was talking about her daughter. Her daughter irritates and annoys her; they clash in multiple arenas of thoughts. It surprises me. I know both women. They’re intelligent and good-humored individuals. Yet, they exasperate each other. I struggle to understand how and why that happens. But I’ve witnessed their interactions. Just an oil and water thing.

Thinking of daughters prompted Der Neurons to fire up Pearl Jam’s 1993 song, “Daughter”, in the morning mental music stream (Trademark streaming). It’s a song about a misunderstood child. It’s ending refrain is “The shades go down”, which reinforces the idea that something is going on that is hidden from the rest of us. The song always hooks my thoughts about the things which happen to children.

On that cheery high, I’ll press on to find my way through another day. Coffee has come onboard my effort and will help guide my energies. Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue. Here’s the music video.

Cheers

Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

I witnessed a coffee house conversation that threatened to escalate into violence.

It was a mildly busy day as people gathered and socialized with pleasant autumn weather outside. Many were bent over phones, laptops, or notebooks.

One table hosted an octet of chatting women not far from me. Their age hovered around my own, which is to say sixty to seventy-five years young. They were mostly laughing and talking about books. Somehow their conversation rolled into the important question everyone wants to know, “How much paste should you put on your toothbrush?”

I haven’t read any books on the subject, and I didn’t study it in school, but I agreed with one brunette woman. She said, “Oh, I read that you just need a dab. Especially with an electric toothbrush.”

“No, no, no,” a red-haired woman erupted. “That is wrong. You need to cover the bristles from end to end with paste.”

Coffee shop conversations dropped off a cliff. Focus went to the table of women.

Other women at the table started disagreeing with paste woman. You’d think they were assaulting her grand toddler from her reaction. Voice rising into a screech, she declared, “No! No!” It was like she was channeling Khruschev addressing the United Nations. “The paste must be on all of the bristles! Anything else is wrong!”

I expected a duel to erupt. Pistols at twenty feet on the sunlit sidewalk outside.

Maybe she’d had too much caffeine. Maybe she didn’t have enough. The other women, wide-eyed with alarm, were backing down fast, trying to placate the redhead before she whipped out a sword to defend her toothpaste position.

Thank God they weren’t discussing politics.

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: Weathwonderizing

Today is Thursday, October 24, 2024. This kicks off October’s final week. Just seven days remain until November is asserted. Once November kicks on, it’ll be a ride. Time change in America, election in America, Thanksgiving in America…then the December holidays in America. Sorry to give the rest of the world short attention. That’s not my intention. It’s only that I expect November to be intense in the U.S. for multiple reasons.

Peering out the window, fog twirled and swirled, stealing in and out of the scene. But brave sunshine soon burst onto the scene.

With the fog, we were creeping through the low thirties. Sunshine kicked in and managed to kick the fog out and prop up a vividly blue sky. Now we’re romping through the forties, racing toward a high in the low 60s. This is autumn for sure but winter is slanting in.

Eyeing the fog’s weave around the trees, houses, and accoutrements of modern urban life brought up Foghat. Just apparently how my brain works. Soon “Fool for the City” rose in the morning mental music stream.

But as I watched, I rejected the song. Just didn’t feel right for the moment. The fog keep shifting, slinking in and sneaking out, coiling around trees and releasing. I kept judging the visibility. Now I could see further away…ah, but it’s back in and I can only see the houses and trees directly across the street.

From that litany of thought arose “What A Wonderful World.” The 1967 recording released by Louis Armstrong was the first, and it’s hard to top. But a while back, I heard a version by Chris Botti with Mark Knopfler. It was used at the end of an episode of the television series, “Bosch.” It struck me and I went off to hear it again on the net.

Besides Armstrong and Botti’s version, Willy Nelson’s soulful rendition and Joey’s Ramone heartfelt fast paced rock version captivated me. It’s hard to go wrong with the song’s words and the sentiments, if you like that sort of thing.

It is a wonderful world. I worry about humans screwing it up. We adjust it to our needs. Sometimes we’re pretty damn cruel and arrogant. I always have mixed conclusions about us exploring other worlds for that reason. I want the technological achievement, and I want to satisfy the intellectual curiosity of what else exists beyond this planet. But I don’t want us to ruin the other places. It remains a conundrum.

Coffee has invaded my body in a benign takeover. Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue. Here’s the music, friends and neighbors. Cheers

Monder’s Theme Music

Mood: Mondering

Monday trotted in on rain and clouds but sunshine has made the scene. It’s October 21, 2024. Fall continues its strong run. Traditional Halloween colors dominate the landscape. Colorful leaves blanket the roads, smother the sidewalks, inundate the yards and fields. With a temperature now of 56 F, we don’t expect much more warmth today, as temperatures will sputter to a high in the low sixties. As they used to whisper in a certain set of novels and a television series predicated on those novels, “Winter is coming.”

I’m gifting today’s Monday the name of Monder, a sort of mix of Monday and wonder. As we start the week and advance toward election day — one day and two weeks away — I wonder WTF the MAGAlopes’ leader will do next to surprise and disturb the world.

News is heavy with trumpcapades. Lord, the things he does while ‘running’ for office. Put it that way because it’s more a comgedy as he embarks on surreal rifts and character assassinations, expressing little about his policy. Served fries — such a man of the people! (Yes, that is snark.) Also posted AI generated imagery of himself as a muscular, built Steeler player, a far reach from his true physique. The man’s ridiculousness and outright weirdness are deep. And yet, they’re unconsciously so very Trumpian, revealing him as a fake person, pretending to do and be things which he never was.

Having seen Project 2025 and Trump’s first term, we have some strong indicators of what his presidency would be like and why he doesn’t articulate policy positions, instead dancing around stages. We’ve been watching the right-wing stripping women’s rights, attacking the social safety net and education system, trying to homogenize the population, values, and culture into redneck vanilla while constructing the foundation for a authoritarian state. All while claiming to do what the Founders desired. Hilarious if it wasn’t so darkly surreal.

Hurricane Oscar is taking on Cuba after beating up the Bahamas, so fingers crossed for that nation and people that they come through without overly horrendous results. We’re still dealing with Milton and Helene’s aftermath in the U.S. The latest problem from the hurricanes is the rise of Vibrio vulnificus, which can lead to flesh-eating bacteria, necrotizing fasciitis, and death.

Today’s music comes off a tangent about thinking about today’s youth. Not just youth but adults. Many adults seem oblivious, disinterested, or overwhelmed with current events and history. I wonder if the youth is paying more attention. I like to hope they are. I remember myself as a youth. My world events interest was peripheral to sports, music, and reading. So I hope our youth is better than me.

Anyway, the song The Neurons fished out of memory for the moment is “Oh Very Young” by Yosuf Islam, previously known as Cat Stevens. The thoughtful but light 1974 song has taken over the morning mental music stream (Trademark young). Came out the year when I graduated. I think I still sound fresh, but then I’m pretty stale.

Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue. Coffee and I have commenced our tango. Here’s the music. Cheers

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Coffeecool

We rocked and rolled into another autumn day. Blue skies, no clouds, lots of vapor trails.

Another Tuesday. Another October — my 69th October. I’m 68 but we don’t start counting until we’ve been alive for one year and I was born in July. And ‘nother 15, as this is 10/15/2024.

As the new weather norm goes, it was chilly, in the low fifties at night. Sunshine thrust in past trees and over mountains as the Earth rotated. The thermometer began clawing its progress up the scale. Now at 62 F degrees, 72 F might be here at 4 PM. Rain is anticipated at 5 PM, and that’ll change everything.

The wind is still and the air is clear.

This is floof weather. The boys — Papi and Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) — settled into favorite sunshine-favored spots in the backyard grass. Napping followed grooming, with interruptions to head lift for disruptive noises. But all is well for them.

They — the cats — inspired The Neurons’ music choice today. I checked on them after dressing. Seeing them in their sunshine spots, The Neurons jerry-rigged a Rihanna song with new lyrics: “We found sunshine in the backyard, we found sunshine in the ba-ackyard.” This was a butchering of “We Found Love” from 2011. Calvin Harris wrote it and Rihanna had a hit with it. After using it for their purposes, The Neurons introduced the proper tune to my morning mental music stream (Trademark hopeless) for the full experience. It’s a technotune with a driving beat that soon had The Neurons jumping and bouncing, a bit disconcerting as my body’s other cells were clamoring, “Where’s the coffee, huh? Give me coffee.”

Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue. Don’t know what history will say after this election but I’d like to give our nation a longer tenure as a democratic republic. Electing Harris will bend us toward that course. Selecting Trump will divert us further off course, as we saw from his first term and his behavior since.

The body finally had its coffee prayers answered. Here’s the music. Cheers

Winday’s Wandering Thoughts

The Starbucks lobby was locked. A sign said, “Sorry, lobby closed for maintenance.”

I considered Remix across the street. It was already busy and its seating had never suited me.

Back in the car, I headed to Noble’s on 4th, my other go-to place. I mostly mix it up between those two these months. My spouse has been campaigning for RoCo lately, so I veered over to East Main to hit it up.

I used to regularly visit RoCo. Named the Roasting Company back then I haven’t visited since BC; Before COVID. A small converted home, it was frequently packed. Outlets were limited and that’s needed for my power hungry laptop.

But my wife claimed it had changed. I trust my wife so I found parking and headed in.

She was right. Much lighter than it used to be inside, they’d added power strips screwed to the benches so outlets were plentiful. Not very crowded this day, either.

Classic rock played. Who can argue with Bowie, Pat Benatar, the Animals, the Mysterios, Stray Cats, and Pink Floyd providing background music?

A productive writing session was won. Of course, this is Saturday. Things change on weekdays. But it worked out today and I liked it, so I’ll try Monday. See if I have another good coffee writing session.

That’s what’s important.

The Can’t-Wake-Up Dream

I’d been working. In the military, it seemed like from clues, but it was never clearly presented. Staying in some manner of mixed work, play, sleep compound. Very modern. Enormously wide hallways. Well lit.

I’d been going to and fro, doing work and receiving instructions, sometimes passing guidance along, when suddenly, I was asleep. Yep, asleep in my dream. And I couldn’t wake up. And I knew this. I new that I wanted and needed to wake up. But my head was heavy with exhaustion and my eyes felt glued shut.

Someone came by and spoke with me. Don’t know what they said. I replied, “I need to wake up but I can’t. I must get up.”

Somehow, I did manage to get up. “Water,” I told myself. “Drink some water. That will help.”

Feeling my way about, I came to a sink and turned on the water. Using my hand to catch water, I guzzled a bit.

It wasn’t working. “Put water on your face,” I told myself. “Splash your eyes.”

Right; yes. That worked enough that at last I could open my eyes. “Food and coffee will help,” I said to myself. “Go find some.”

Dream end. Early sunlight was petering in around the closed blinds. The dream felt so real that I went into the kitchen and drank a glass of water and then went to a mirror to see if my eyes were open. Very strange.

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Fuzzcollecting

Another splash of autumn covers the day, this day being Friday, October 4, 2024. Skies, trees, sun, etc. Coolish warming air grazing around 61 F. Expectations that we’ll kiss upper seventies today, a few nicks down from the mid 80s felt yesterday. Tomorrow, we’re back into the eighties, riding the seesaw of seasonal change.

The cats traverse the doors in and out, liking the outdoors in sun patches, bundling themselves into loaves, moving when the sun shies away from their chosen skim of earth. Chess with sunshine, they think themselves kings, bishops at least, but the sun treats them like pawns.

The Neurons are wandering my mind’s corridors, apparently. They dust off a 1968 song and start playing it in the morning mental music stream (Trademark ancient). As breakfast makes its trip to the stomach’s acids, I question The Neurons about why this and now? This is Cream doing “Anyone for Tennis.” Now is today, 2024, a zillion plus one years removed from when I was a boy and saw them on television. Cream were on the Smothers Brothers Show and did this show. I found the video to it on Youtube. Their clothing snatches back reminders of the purple and blue paisley shirts and denim bell bottoms worn by moi in those days. Later, in my high school years, the bell bottoms would remain but the shirts would become simpler designs and colors. The hair was always long, thick, wild and curly, exasperating my divorced parents, amusing my sisters and aunts and uncles, and sometimes entrancing a girl.

Done with the mornin’ memory portion of the day unless The Neurons pull more out. They may at any given. Stay positive, test negative, be strong, and vote blue. Coffee has had its way with me. Here’s the music. Onward. Cheers

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: adultuated

Autumn continues it new reign of weather, pale blue sky, bold but late sunshine, goldenish green trees. Upta 56 F now, with 80 F on the horizon. 80 F makes a fine temperature for Ashlandia. If you ever vote for the temp for this place, I urge vote 80.

Told my wife yesterday after we got some things done, “You know, as I look back on October, I’m impressed with how much we got done.” Cuz this is Wednesday, October 2, 2024.

I enjoy watching Papi. Papi is the ginger blade component of our felinious duo. Younger. Very outdoorsy. Coming in the back door, he avoids stepping on the mat. Like it’s lava. Then inside, he circles around the outside of the sofa, to the room’s far side, like he’s a scout in enemy territory. Cuts back in to the rug under the dining table. Like it’s a safe base. Talks to me from there, tail up, back arched, whiskers brimming. I make inquiries about his appetite and willingness to eat. Tail still standing like a sundial, he races alongside as I head for food prep. Gives me some vocal encouragement. Then sits. Patient. Waiting for the food. Final burp of pleased noise as his bowl lands. Sitting, body adjustments, because he must be postured just so, it’s a thing of his, he commences.

Brother-in-law’s mother passed away. 92. COVID pneumonia. She, like all of her children, including BIL, are Trump supporters. But her grandchildren are not. Sorry for the loss, etc, but my emotional sea churns with conflicting currents.

I went out with the cats and enjoyed the still fresh air. They groomed and tended to sounds while I just did breathing exercises and reflected. For some reason that only The Neurons know, Tom Petty ripped into “You Wreck Me” from 1995 in the morning mental music stream (Trademark wrecked). Could be simple association. (Ya think?) October 1974, I entered the military, October, 1995, I dished the retirement papers to the service. This song is from ’95. So. Not saying the military wrecked me. Not at all.

Stay positive and lean forward and vote blue next month. Coffee and I already rendezvoused on familiar grounds. Here’s the music, and away we go.

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