Tag: color

Friday’s Them Music

Mood: roadweary

We left our vacation house on the coast this morning at 10:30. It was 58 F. When the sky saw we were leaving, it started crying.

We headed north from Waldport to Lincoln City because we wanted to do something stuff up there. And while we were there, the sky’s crying launched into heavy bawling. And that wet stuff kept coming down. We head east to Oregon’s capitol, Salem. The rain came down. We headed south. The rain went with us.

Well, we told each other, this cool air and heavy rain will help with the fires. Let’s hope California is getting some of this precipitation.

We slammed to a halt just south of Coburg, then inched forward for thirty-five minutes. Finally, we arrived at an accident site. Clean up was in progress. We didn’t know anything about injuries but three cars and a truck were involved. I tried learning more via a search of the net. Ridiculous results ensured. One AI reported a recent accident on I5 southbound by Coburg happened, but that was three years ago. Google’s reporting showed me accidents for up to one day ago, along with accidents from Feb. and April Not fucking useful.

Any way, we the route, weather and traffic delays, we were on the road nine hours and I’m a little road weary. Funny, though: when we arrived here at home, it hadn’t rain. Light spit was falling. We asked Alexa about this, but she can’t answer questions like that. She’s too limited.

Going right into the music, I’m staying with the theme of songs with colors in the title. The Neurons pulled out “Raspberry Beret”, a 1985 song by Prince, and popped that into the morning mental music stream (Trademark wet).

As always, it’s good to be home. My cats greeted us with purrs and rubs before demanding makeup food. It was lovely being in cool coastal weather with a restless Pacific at hand. That reminded us of our Half Moon Bay life. I still miss that. We made the right decision to move away from there.

In fine symmetry, it was 58 F here in Ashlandia at our 7:30 PM arrival. Rain is expected tonight. It’ll be 69 F as tomorrow’s high, a weirdly low temperature for an Ashlandia August.

Well, coffee was consumed, and here I sit. Stay positive. Ride the wave of positive and joyous Harris – Walz energy. Vote blue. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: satisbeached

We’re passing through another day. Today is Thursday, August 22, 2024.

I’m still on the Oregon Coast on vacation. The weather continues favoring us with sunshine, chill temperatures, and clear air. Some friendly clouds pass by with a wave. Right now it’s 60 F, just two degrees from an anticipated high of 62 F. The tide is coming in, so I’ll be going out for a walk along the water.

Rain fell last night. Hearing it, I headed out onto the uncovered patio at a few minutes after midnight, letting it fall over me, breathing in the fresh air, solitude, and sound.

The Internet was mostly down yesterday. While others napped, I wrote or walked along the shore, breathing in the air, enjoying freedom, and thinking, sometimes writing in my head. It was about two miles in each direction. I rarely encountered another. When we did, simple nods and smiles were exchanged, acknowledging the other’s presence. The net returned in time for us to catch the DNC, watching and listening to it as we worked on a jigsaw puzzle.

I continue with the theme of a color in the song’s title today. The Neurons wavered between “Tequila Sunrise” and “Orange Crush” this morning. The 1988 R.E.M. song won my morning mental music stream (Trademark woke). Its energy today just felt right.

Be strong, remain positive, and Vote Blue. Not because I say so but because it’s better for more of us than the alterntive offered by the other party.

Coffee is playing with my body in a welcome way. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: Mondossified

Today is Monday, August 19, 2024. Our cool weather continues. Cloudy, just 56 F now, only go to pop another 21 degrees today. Only expected to crack 80 F tomorrow. Clear air also continues for us, which is awesome for us.

We get the Democratic National Convention this week, live from Chicago. The countdown to the elections continues. Continuing their tit-for-tat politics, the GOP is trying to make a case for corruption against President Biden. They have become the party that can’t think straight. Chaos, deflection, and hyprocrisy are their tools. Their only plan is to connive, distract, lie, and accuse.

Puerto Rico continues recovering from Hurricane Ernesto. Meanwhile, news of a mercury bomb in the Arctic area broke cover. Oh, good, that’s what the world needs.

Over on the political big screen, extreme right-wingers like Nick Fuentes, Candace Owens, and Laura Loomer are complaining that Trump hasn’t slid to the right enough yet, and has softened. They believe, apparently a hardline is called for to suck in some undecideds. They don’t mention the gibberish he often spews, lack of coherent policies, or his inability to remember people and places as a reason why he might not be a good POTUS; he’s just too soft for them. That’s why his polls are slumping.

Right.

Staying with colors in the song title as my theme, I spun the wheel of fate. It landed on white. “Nights in White Satin!” The Neurons screamed. “Whiter Shade of Pale! White Wedding! White Punks on Dope! Black or White! White Rabbit!”

“Calm down,” I told them. “Have some coffee. It’ll help you relax.” By then, “Dirty White Boy,” a 1979 rocker by Foreigner about Elvis Presley was already occupying the morning mental music stream (Trademark dirty). So that’s that.

Stay positive, be strong, have some coffee, and vote blue. Here’s the music. Cheers

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A Spy Dream

Six of us were there, to start, males and females (nobody that I knew), in an old part of a modern city. Sunset had passed. Shadows grew among the narrow bridges and streets wedged in among canals and buildings. Silence grew as businesses closed and people retired to their houses.

We were supposed to be finding our way through the city. I don’t know who the others were, or why we were tasked with this. But the assignment unnerved us. Then, trying to be bolder, one made a decision to go down an alley, thinking that was the right way. We never saw him again.

As the dark grew deeper, we depended on light coming from windows to see. Growing more nervous, the others crowded closer. But, I said, “Wait. I know what’s going on. We’re being tested.” We thought they were testing our direction, but I realized that they were testing our mettle.

Talking it through with the rest, I convinced them that I was right. As they finally agreed, the lights came up. A man lead a group forward. Talking with us, he confirmed that I was right. It was a test, and it was over.

“Follow me,” he directed, leading us into a building. The halls were narrow. He put two of my group into one room, “Because they were done,” and then lead me and two others into another room.

The room wasn’t large. Stereo speakers crowded it. A window allowed people to watch us. Music played. As it played, we were told to select colors from a panel as fast as we could. When this was done, after what seemed like just ten seconds, I was led away.

“Your thinking tells us that you can be a spy,” the man told me as I was led off. “Your respond to music with colors in the same way that trained spies usually respond, so we want to make you a spy.”

I didn’t know who he meant wanted to make me a spy, nor what I was to spy on. Everything was happening with bewildering speed. As he led me forward, he said, “Take off your shirt.” I did, and then he opened another door.

I went in. I was on a stage with a dozen others. A motley collection of people watched from tables and chairs. The man said, “Okay, everyone, these are our spies. You know most of them, but we have one new one. I’m going to introduce them all.”

As he began calling out names, I shivered, because I was cold. I saw that others were studying me and tried to remain nonchalant.

The dream ended.

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Pieces

In last night’s other part of featured dreams, I found pieces of blue, red, yellow and white. Large but lightweight, they seemed to be plastic. As I collected them, I noticed some fit together. 

I next encountered a plaza. After some exploration, I noticed it was a huge board and realized the pieces I’d found could fit on the board. I began organizing, sorting and testing pieces in the way of puzzles, but building structures as tall as myself. Each was either red, yellow, blue, green, et cetera; the colors weren’t mixed in the structures.

Stepping back to gain a greater view of my work, I saw that the pieces I put together had formed people. I realized the pieces were from people and that I could use them, put them together and fix the people. 

The epiphany sent me into grinning delight. I began noticing others walking around and saw I was in a busy city on a sunny day. The people walking around were strangers of all races and classes of life. I could tell which pieces belonged to which person. So I began calling to them, “I can fix you. I know how. I have the pieces that can fix you.”

Then it was on to the other dream, where it took a weird turn.

Perhaps the weirdest turn is that I suspect I’ve dreamed these dreams before. 

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