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

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: philosophical

Hello, fellow life travelers. Welcome to another day of the journey.

Today is Friday, October 6, 2023. Buoyed by a balmy zephyr it’s already seventy outside and the sunshine rules. 86 F will be our high, I’m assured.

I’m in a reflective mood today, the product of a night of dreams. Days often seem so closely like the one the day before it and so in, like we’re standing in a hall of mirrors looking backwards and forwards to the same thing being endlessly repeated.

Not true, of course. The seasons change. So does the daily weather. So does how we physically feel and appear, typically in small ways, hour by hour, day by day, month by month through our piece of time. Yeah, many changes are seen but unless there’s a sudden sharp intrusion, most of our visible changes come in slow increments. Sometimes the pace of change can take a lifetime. I’m often surprised looking in the mirror or suddenly unable to do something that I used to do without thought. The change was coming but I didn’t see it.

After reading about the speaker selection process going on, The Neurons are having fun. Politicians who horrify me are being mentioned, like Steve Scalise and Jim Jordan. Neither of them have done anything in my purview which generates respect and admiration; instead, I found myself mildly ill at the thought they might become Speaker. I can’t imagine them being reliably intelligent or skillful enough to pull together the GOP and keep them focused. I’d use the metaphor about the GOP being as unmanageable as a herd of cats, but I like cats and don’t want to insult them.

Back to The Neurons. After reading and thinking, I found myself with “Better Man” by Pearl Jam circling the morning mental music stream (Trademark swirling). Jordan? Scalise? Can’t they find a better man or woman? Like that, Eddie Vedder is singing, “Can’t find a better man,” in my mental stream as The Neurons giggle and guffaw. Silly little immature booger heads.

Stay positive and keep reaching for the stars. Let’s embrace this day and go forward. Here’s the music. Cheers

A Dream of Friends

It was a short one. I was young again. Looked like I was in my twenties.

Hustling along through a building, I passed through a doorway and down a short fight of steps. In there were many friends and co-workers. (I realized on awakening that all were male.)

I don’t know how many were there. None of these people have been seen in the last dozen years, and most haven’t been seen or spoken with since the last century.

We were all wearing tee shirts, the sort worn to support sports teams and rock bands. All were young like me. Several of us took seats in a semi-circle around a fire pit which had no fire. Others took seats behind us. We were talking, joking, laughing, playing tricks on one another and just acting silly. I recognized at least Jeff, Gil, Ray, Jim. An ex-brother-in-law was seated beside me on my right. Gil was two seats over on my left.

A man began playing guitar and singing. Dressed in black trimmed with silver, he was seated in a chair off to one side, an amplifier beside him. Despite the amp, he played and sang low. We all needed to stay silent to hear him. The song was his own composition, I was told by another. I don’t remember any of the lyrics or melodies. I remember thinking that he could be a professional. Gil said, “It’s like we’re at a concert.” Ian answered, “We are at a concert.” That exchange brought out some chuckling.

The concert ended. We all stood, socializing. Jeff, who I saw earlier, came in. He was wearing a different tee shirt. It had Roberto Clemente’s likeness and number on it. Clemente had been my childhood hero. Grinning, I went to Jeff and said, “Hello, Roberto.”

Jeff was much smaller than I remembered him being. He was taller than me in RL. Although he looked as he did back when we worked together, he was now a foot shorter. “Hello,” he answered, grinning.

Dream end.

Spring Day’s Theme Music

Happy Spring Day. Yeah, it’s that day in the U.S. where we spring ahead an hour.

This day felt feels like the spring ahead might have been a quantum leap, taking us out of winter’s claws and into spring’s embrace. Warmer, 42 F now — which was the overnight low — with sights on a mid-fifties high, with showers. The clouds have gathered for the chance to shower us but there’s still sunlight between the clouds.

Sunrise slipped back to 7:26 this morning as we ‘sprang’ ahead, and sunset will be an hour later than yesterday, 7:15 PM. The time change surprised the cats. Tucker immediately adjusted, telling me, “Alight then, let’s go eat.” Papi was asleep. Startled awake, his expression asked, “What are you doing up? What time is it, anyway?” He recovered as soon as a can of food was opened.

It’s Sunday, March 12, 2023.

A concert is on our schedule this afternoon, a volunteer symphony. Friends are in it and we’re supporting them. But the concerts are generally entertaining and a diversion from our usual routines. Old friends are coming into town tomorrow, so plans are afoot for socializing.

I have a song by Almost Monday trapped in the morning mental music stream. The Neurons heard it on Hulu several times. I tend, as part of my writing routine, to watch a series repeatedly at some point, leery of upsetting the writing balance. Superstitious, isn’t it? Was Bosch. Vera followed. Now it’s Justified (again). Justified is on Hulu, and for some reason, they play a few minutes of music video each night. This week it’s Almost Monday with “Only Wanna Dance”. Hulu is the only place I’ve heard it, but The Neurons said, “Say, that’s sort of interesting,” and refuse to let it go. So I must pass it on. That’s just the way it works.

Stay pos, and happy Sunday, or whatever day it is in your leg of the world. Coffee is finished, as is breakfast. Time to take on the world again. Here’s the tune. Cheers

Invitations Dream

My wife and I were visiting a pop musician. Male, no one real but a dream personality. I didn’t know him but ended up spending time with him by his choice. He then invited me to go on tour with him.

I laughed. He told me he was serious. I protested that I didn’t know anything about touring, concerts, etc., but he didn’t care. He’d make a position for me, pay me, cover my expenses. He thought I’d contribute by talking to him and giving him feedback.

I shrugged and accepted. Nothing ventured, right. We’d be leaving next week. I was pleased.

It was a Friday. My wife and I traveled on to somewhere else as a weekend getaway. We ended up at an opulent, opulent resort. We were a little anxious about the price. I met a man, big and bluff, white, with a graying and thin short burr cut. He weighed over two hundred pounds and stood almost seven feet tall. A barrel-shaped man, he carried his weight well.

He and I began chatting. Turned out he owned the resort and was a wealthy entrepreneur. He was going away on a business trip. Wanted me to accompany him. He thought I’d add a lot to his attendance at the event. I disagreed, citing all the practical reasons why I shouldn’t go. He suggested that I think about it for a while and talk it over with my wife, taking us to a room.

Golden walls and golden pillows dominated this room. We knew it was specially designed for resting, with filtered air and heavy soundproofing. Despite large windows, which showed verdant valley and mountain scenery, outside sounds weren’t heard.

We sat on the pillows to talk but then I needed to pee. I jumped up to find a bathroom but started peeing without control. My pee was weirdly golden. I peed so much that we soon had a two pools with a lively little stream connecting them.

I panicked. “What am I going to do? My pee is everywhere. It’s ruining everything.” As I spoke, the golden pillows absorbed my pee.

My wife and I were a little freaked. What if that’s why the pillows were golden?

We left the room. The entrepreneur asked if I’d made a decision. I told him I’d love to go but I had a previous commitment next week. He replied that he’d have me back for the other trip and that wasn’t a problem.

Dream end

Note: Yes, I did get up and pee after I awoke – cat wanted in or out, you know…

Sunday’s Theme Music

Sunshine casts its web over the valley. Highlighted by a blue sky, shadow places are hard with white frost under the green pines and naked annuals.

It’s 21 F out but warming, which we’ll do until petering out at 42 F. The sun’s valley march commenced at 7:34 in the morning and though the march is ever going, our view of it will fade away beginning at 4:41, when curvature and action eliminates our view and negates the sun’s effects. Then we’ll endure the cold night and the whole cycle continues tomorrow.

This is Sunday, December 18, 2022. Time to do your next to last Sunday of the month cleaning, shopping, and celebrating. I don’t recognize the next to last Sunday, myself. Disguised as just another day, it slinks past my unwitting senses and drifts into the past.

We attended a Christmas concert yesterday. Friends play in the orchestra so we support them and buy a ticket and attend. It’s a fun time. They have only four concerts a year, not for the seasons, but for holidays of the seasons. Next will be the Spring Concert, though, just to toss a spanner into it.

As the oboe played its note and the others matched it to ensure they’re in tune, I sang the note in the audience, softly under my mask. My wife heard and leaned over with a chuckle. “Getting in tune?” she asked.

Well, of course. The Neurons immediately pulled up the Who rock classic, “Getting in Tune”, from 1971. But they surprised me by shifting to another Who song, “The Song Is Over” off the same album a little later, when we were waiting to see, is this a pause between movements or is the song over? Do we applaud now? Some audience sections had been fooled once. But it was over, so we clapped in appreciation, and The Neurons planted “The Song Is Over” into my mental music stream, where it remained this morning.

That’s impressive staying power because, other music. The Neurons were barraged with the usual Christmas popular favorites, like “Frosty the Snowman” and “Jingle Bells”, and a personal favorite, “March of the Toys”. I was introduced to MotT when I attended a concert as a young boy. Then I later saw Babes in Toyland, which left a staying mark. The Neurons shrugged it off, so here I sit with the Who. Love the opening piano in this song, though. Evocative to me. Then, of course, come the other familiar Who elements of bass, drums, and guitar notes dancing with the vocals.

Stay positive, test negative, and so on. Just got word via text that a third of my Pittsburgh nieces and nephews are sick with flu, along with a sister and her hubby. All adults were vaxxed. Word isn’t known on the children. I wish them all speedy recovers.

“On coffee, on bagel, on oatmeal, and dressing.” Sorry, The Neurons got a little silly there, substituting morning things for Santa’s reindeers as they’re called out by name in Clement’s classic. Here’s the music. Catch you later. Cheers

Saturday’s Theme Music

5:49 AM, 8:44 PM. Those are today’s times for the sunshow on Saturday, 7/17/21. Rise comes first, with a lethargic unveiling. Set comes later, a gradual withdrawal. Between those times, the sun will work its heat on us. Not too bad today, upper eighties to lower nineties. Forecasts say get ready for a new rampup.

Although the Bootleg Fire and numerous others still burn, our southern Oregon’s valley air is clear and ‘safe’. Went up and down yesterday. Down in the evening, which helped make a summer concert a pleasant time. Listened to a regional band, East Main Street, play covers of the Eagles, Beatles, CSN&Y, Seals & Croft, CCR, etc. You get the feel, right? Had beer, wine, drinks, BBQ. Celebrated birthdays. Wondered how many were vaccinated. But we were outside.

Today’s music is a Nirvana song called “About A Girl” (1994). My mind brought it up to entertain and distract me as I ambled around town yesterday. Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

Today’s theme music is another throwback that popped into the morning’s music stream.

Born in the USA was a huge hit album for Bruce Springsteen. Released in 1984 when we were stationed on Okinawa, in Japan, it was the first CD that we bought after buying a CD player and then searching for something to play on it. Seems like a lifetime ago. Was, when you think about the years, what’s that, 2019 minus 2084? Yeah, do the math.

I enjoyed every song on that album but the one my mind chose to stream today is “Cover Me”. “The whole world is out there, just trying to score. I’ve seen enough, don’t want to see any more, cover me. Wrap your arms around me, cover me.”

We saw Bruce perform “Cover Me” during his Tunnel of Love tour in Frankfurt, Germany, in 1988. Good show.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r13kXZKe4IA

For Today’s Dreams

I need to think about and research these items from last night’s dreams:

  • Eating ham, and wrapping ham to take with me
  • Q-tips
  • Attending a rock concert in Japan
  • And the words, “Trey Chico,” which made a lot of sense to me in the dream

The name of the concert was “Trey Chico.” Three boys, I wondered several times during my dream.

It was an interesting concert venue. The stage was on one end in a field, about a mile from a field for parking cars. Between the parking and stage were long, open rows between rows of small apartments. Japanese people set up blankets in the open rows, and waited for the concert in the apartments.

We arrived early, in late afternoon for the concert. My wife was with me. We were in the cheap section. Meeting others, I ate some ham. I never saw any of the concert. I left right before they were supposed to play “The Star-Spangled Banner”. My wife stayed at the concert when I left. I wrapped ham in paper to take with me before I left, and made sure I took my laptop computer with me.

It was dark, but with lighting when I left. Fences blocked some sections. Others were attempting to leave, as well. I knew that the fences were there, but didn’t know how to get around them. A Japanese man came up and told us how to do it.

Walking through the open rows to get to parking, I was warned several times not to step on the Japanese, or their blankets. I cut back and forth, sometimes running, to go the mile to the field, and sometimes entered and left one of the small apartments. I thought they were clever, and that the concert arrangement was clever.

I ran into my wife in one of the apartments. She was with friends. They’d gone to a nearby shop, and then toured this apartment. Showing me Q-tips, she said, “They have the right Q-tip holders. We saw them. Where did we see them?” I knew, but I didn’t answer her.

Reaching the parking field, I oriented myself. After counting the rows, I turned and walked down one row to my car.

The dream ended.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑