Tag: Cream

Thursdaz’s Theme Music

The sixth day of February has boarded our minds in the year of 2025 CE, a Thursdaz. Crazy frog — our home’s expression for freezing fog, based on a mondetext — has stolen the sunlight, gifting us twilight colors of, gray, white, and black. No snow falling but ‘they’ are warning us that more is on the way. It’s 32 F and greater warmth isn’t anticipated. Snow might be on the way. Or rain.

The primary roads have been plowed here but get off them and yer on yer own. Sidewalks on not cleared, so people must walk on the streets. Everyone gives pedestrians on the roads wide passage but given the environment, I imagine people walking worry with every step about someone losing control of their vehicle.

Weather caused cancellation of my first two lymphedema massage therapy sessions. Another one is scheduled for tomorrow. Also have an appointment for Papi the ginger blade, aka butter butt, Meep, and butter booger, to see what’s going on about his fur shedding.

The Ban Man is at it. Trump bans with a petulant thump. “Ban transsexuals in women’s sports.” Thump. “If I can’t have fun and play sports, neither can they.” “Ban DEI. I’m a rich white guy, born into a wealthy white household. I don’t understand how that was an advantage over others.” Thump. “Ban it all, everything that isn’t me.” Thump.

Of course, the craziness of the first term is still flowering. ‘The U.S. will take over Gaza. Move the Palestinians out.’ What? Friggin’ nuts. Then his ‘team’ scrambles to make it sound sane, plausible, and supported by everyone, and then Trump realizes how nuts he sounded and tries to change what he said. Brother.

It was a busy morning. Friend called to ask advice about his ailing cat. Another called for help with his recalcitrant computer. And, caught up with Mom drama via texts with Mom and a sis. Mom fell again. She refuses assistance and she’s been at war with her live-in boyfriend for months. She’s 89 and he’s 94. I have never witnessed him be anything but polite and nice to her but she declares him mean. My siblings and I have a lifetime of Mom so her claims draw leeriness as a first response. It’s unfortunate but she’s been married multiple times and has had several boyfriends, and drama is her drug. She makes everything contentious with everyone. It’s a sigh-inducing relationship with her.

With that gray-tinged white world staring back at us, it’s no surprise that The Neurons pulled a Cream song, “White Room”, into the morning mental music stream. It’s a Cream favorite o’ mine. A poet, Pete Brown, was responsible for the lyrics, which strike many as enigmatic. I think iyhat pushes me to look inside myself.

My favorite part is this stanza, followed by the chorus.

You said no strings could secure you at the station
Platform ticket, restless diesels,goodbye windows
I walked into such a sad time at the station
As I walked out, felt my own need, just beginning

[Chorus]
I’ll wait in the queue when the trains come back
Lie with you where the shadows run from themselves

h/t to genius.com

I like the way the stanza is belted out, angry, defiant, challenging, before the softly resigned introspection presented by the chorus.

Then, too, there are three phenomenal rock performers demonstrating their craft with bass guitar, lead guitar, and drums. Awesome.

Coffee and I introduced ourselves to one another again and I’m indulging in more caffeine-infused dark goodness. Hope your day offers some escape from the world’s woes and some satisfaction to your plans. Cheers

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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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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

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sympcoffeeco

Tuesday, August 6, 2024, greets you. It’s a cool 70 F in Ashlandia, where the sidewalks are cracked and irregular. We expect a low 90s F high, something like 93. The air has grown mostly, partially clear; nostrils only sometimes smart, eyes only sporadically sting, the throat is but moderately dry and sore, and the sinuses are just mildly congested. So, we good.

Vice President Kamala Harris chose Tim Walz as her running mate. I’ll say now, not my choice, but I support her and him. Ultimately, like many of my friends and relatives, I would have loved Pete Buttigieg. But I know the American political psyche would have fractured with a Black woman of mixed descent and a gay guy, no matter his skin color, driving the ship known as the United States. My second choice was Andy Beshear out of Kentucky. But I get it: Vice President Harris met with the candidates and made the choice based on her needs. Governor Walz has many fine attributes and has done nothing that I’ve read or heard about that caused a gag reflex. Admittedly, I haven’t read a whole lot about him. He does have the cachet of being the first politician who dubbed Don Old Trump as weird. Many of us outside of politics have been calling Don Old Trump weird since at least his ‘reality’ show. But Walz did it aloud on television and has made it stick. I hope that Mr. Walz simple midwestern approach will draw more voters toward trusting in and voting for the 2024 Democratic ticket.

I’m continuing the freedom theme with my theme music. Today’s choice is a sop to The Neurons. As soon as I began thinking of freedom songs, they began plying the morning mental music stream (Trademark free) with it. The group is Cream, the year is 1966, and the song is “I Feel Free”. As a ten year old hearing that song my rock senses went off and I was all giddy with the song’s generally relaxed and positive approach. The song never ascended the charts in the U.S. Nor did the several covers by others which followed later, but it’s a me sort of melody. Yes, I know, technically this is ‘free’ and not ‘freedom’. Close enough.

ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, I feel free. [x8]

Feel when I dance with you,
We move like the sea.
You, you’re all I want to know.
I feel free, I feel free, I feel free.

h/t to AZLyrics.com

Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue for Harris-Walz in 2024. Coffee and I are sympatico once again. Here’s the video, and away we go. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: thankful

Thankful this morning, for the firefighters around the world fighting fires, including those fighting fires in Oregon and California. Thankful for a lot of things which I have and enjoy, including good health, comfort, and security. Thankful, too, for the easterly wind which took the smoke out of our end of the valley. I’m cognizant that our good fortune is now someone else’s misfortune. Smoke goes somewhere as long as the fires burn.

The hourglass called Saturday, August 18, 2023, is running. Sands are pouring through it. The sands of August and the sands of 2023 are also rushing through through glasses. Guess they’re not truly hourglasses; just time glasses. Do they measure time’s passing, or are these mythical things creating time for us?

It’s a cool morning. A little smoke still crazes the sky’s blue facade and discolors small patches but the sun is the right color. 63 F was the overnight low. We’re up to 70 F now but will climb to 92 F in Ashlandia, where the political differences could be called the Deer Party and the Dog Party. Then there’s the Parks Party. DeP, Dop, and PaP.

The cats are so pleased that smoke vacated the area and cool air rides the day. After making morning rounds of the year, they staked out positions, washed, and settled into napping configurations.

I’m looking forward to the GOP debate coming up. First, I’m impressed that the GOP has verified that it’s about money; only those gaining enough monetary donations are able to participate. I guess the theory is, the potential candidates put themselves out there and convince people to give to more their candidacy forward. Works on a built-in assumption that all donors have the same power and money to give, contrary to the reality we’ve seen perpetually demonstrated since the age of capitalism began. But who are we to attempt to force reality onto the GOP? That, demonstratively, no longer works.

Although, fairness, the GOP is not homogeneous. The NYTimes published an article about the GOP’s factions this week. They included estimates about how much of the GOP each faction made up. While many have held that five factions dominate the GOP, the NYT identified six ‘types’ of voters in the GOP. The interesting aspect of reading this is that while they specify only 36% of GOP members support Trump, they show by their groupings that only one, Moderate Establishment, which accounts for 14% of the party, is the only Never Trump group. Dominated by an alliance between Trump’s biggest support factions, the Right Wing and the he rest either enthusiastically endorse Trump or they’re willing to swallow it and support him because they either agree with his positions or because they like him more than they like Democrats. Not really that different from Democrats and their position on President Biden.

For music, The Neurons have fed “Crossroads” by Cream (1968) into the morning mental music stream (Trademark fishy). This is their cover and interpretation of Robert Johnson’s “Cross Roads Blues”, layering it with a faster tempo and hard rock sound. I figure it’s right for this day, these times, when every day in the US seems to be about being at some kind of cross roads regarding the rule of law, ethics, democracy, climate change, etc. The rest of the world also seems at cross roads about multiple matters as well; some are the same as the ones affecting us in the US. So it’s a good song for t’day.

Have coffee, will travel. Be brave, be strong, be positive, and keep on being you. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

It’s either the start or the end but it seems like the middle, too, because there’s never a pause. The days keep coming and going.

Today’s visitor is Sunday, December 19, 2021. Weather here is blustery, my friends, with bloated clouds puffing up their white chests and declaring, “Maybe I’ll rain. Who knows? Depends on how I feel.” The temperature is climbing the incline toward a high of 47 F. After trudging since sunup at 7:35 AM, it’s reached 46. Should manage 47 by sunset at 4:41 PM, donchathink?

That holds one of the period’s more interesting aspects for me. Sunrise continues getting later, minute by minute. But sunset had a pause, and now is slowly scaling back. Of course, we’re coming to that symbolic day when it’s the shortest of the year up north and longest of the year down south. Call it symbolic because your days may vary.

I’m in a funk again. Never a merry person at the yearly holidays — they want to socialize, and I’m not adept at the s thing — it adds stress, you know? — and I like my routines — a myriad of minor issues has sprouted to layer more stress and frustration. Lay this all on top of COVID restrictions and I’m as happy as a clam on warm cement road: not where I desire to be. So, today’s morning music mental stream occupant — the MMMSO, pronounced meso, if you’re tracking at home — is a 1966 Cream song, “I Feel Free”. Yes, this is a redundant theme song offering. Was just used on a Friday in March of 2021, when the sun rose at 7:06 AM and set at 7:30 PM. So, sue me. Or turn the page. Swipe right. Click away. (“Give me the beat, boys, and free my soul, I wanna get lost in your rock and roll and click away…”) But it’s special circumstances, innit? Motivation music to break out of the encumbrances levied on us by season, situation, and strife.

Stay positive, test negative, and be circumspect, as Doctor Fauci suggests — weigh the risks, wear masks as needed, and get the vaccine and booster when ye can. I’m off on a coffee quest. It’ll take me far away from here, all the way into the kitchen, almost twenty-two feet as the cats jog. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

It’s another day in Ashland, a Friday, March 26, 2021. Slanted sunshine spilled over the horizon at 0704. The sun will make its sky exit at 1930. Starting at cold — 32 degrees F at 0546 when the cats chatted about leaving the building, it’s now 40 and we expect to crunch up against 60. Not bad.

An old Cream song climbed into the mental music crease yesterday. Trudging up a hill, I turned to admire the valley view. ‘Our’ side, on the south, was deep into afternoon mountain shadows while sun stroked every hill on the opposite side, illuminating patches of snow in higher mountain valleys and the peak known as Grizzly. While I was in a residential neighborhood, the typical sounds were opposite. No crows cawed and other birds didn’t sing. Vehicle sounds were unheard. Just me, the pavement, the view. Into that arrived the 1966 song, “I Feel Free”.

I can walk down the street, there’s no one there
Though the pavements are one huge crowd
I can drive down the road; my eyes don’t see
Though my mind wants to cry out loud

I, I, I, I feel free
I feel free
I feel free

h/t to Genius.com

A pause to consider that phrase: ‘an old Cream song’. Is there any other kind when the group existed for two years in the late 1960s? Yes, they did get together two more times, but that was decades later.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get the vax.

Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Reaching back today to ’67, when I was eleven. Feels like a hundred years ago and feels like yesterday evening. Cream was a short-lived supergroup. Eric Clapton was already one of my guitar idols. Here comes Cream with those quasi-psychedelic, hard-rock, deep bass song, “Sunshine of Your Love”. I heard it and thought it was the future’s edge swinging toward me.

Now I sing it as a walk the street, sunshine on my head, laptop in my backpack, heading to the coffee shop to write, and think of it more as an homage to sunshine. At least, that’s why I was singing it yesterday. I thought the sunshine would enjoy it.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

I stumbled across an article about the rise of arena rock. The article mentioned that Cream, on its farewell tour, headlined the first rock concert at Madison Square Gardens. That’s all it took for me to start streaming some Cream. As a big Cream fan, I enjoy a number of Cream songs. I started with “Strange Brew”, shifted to “Brave Ulysses”, followed with “Sunshine of your Love”, but then went to an old blues standby, “Crossroads”.

There I stayed, caught on the rock rhythm, but thinking about the lyrics, fixated on the final line. “And I’m standing at the crossroads, believe I’m sinking down.”

Every day brings a crossroads. You make choices. Some blindly follow the same road, and some willfully follow that road. Both refuse to consider the crossroads that they’ve reached, pressing on.

As writers, we’re often at crossroads about what a character will say or do, and how the story will change to advance the plot. Every day brings the opportunity to feel like you’re sinking down, or the belief that’s what’s happening. It’s easy to get caught there, especially when you thought you’d be making more progress, or that things would become easier. Each novel and chapter, though — each crossroad — is unique. You can learn some hints about how to navigate these places, but they often require a fresh approach.

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Friday’s Theme Music

I’ve always like the elemental approach of this song. This was one of those songs that Mom said, “What are they singing?” She also disparaged the singing. “That’s not singing. That’s…I don’t know what that is.”

No, it’s not very smooth. One generation always struggles with the next generation’s interpretation of what they’re passing. But when the band sing, “I’ve been waiting so long,” I can relate. Seems like I’m always waiting so long, somewhere, sometime, to check in, check out, get in, get out, get on, get by, although yesterday’s shopping went very fast. We only waited to check out in one line out of three.

Here’s Cream with “Sunshine of Your Love,”

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