Thursday’s Theme Music

Time to rock another day. The day in question, September 29, 2022, is a Thursday. Sunlight rocked us at dawn about 7:14 this morning, slicing apart the clouds with golden blades. The clouds recovered and came together in a solid front. They say it won’t rain, and I generally trust that set of they, the weather people. It’s 44 F now, with hopes that 60 F will be touched before the sun steals away at 7:06 PM and leaves us to the night.

Mom has a few home appointments. Nurse aide coming to bath her, and a nurse coming to check her out. She’s doing well, in good spirits, with a healthy appetite. I’m beginning to plot my return home.

Thinking about sleeping and dreaming, not just nocturnal dreams, but dreams of aspirations and accomplishments provoked Les Neurons into dropping Fiona Apple into the morning mental music stream with a song outta 1997, “Sleep to Dream”. Used to hear it a bit during my daily commutes and on my radio at work in my office. I enjoy the song’s thudding, rhythmic beat and how the vocals almost fluctuate between singing and rapping, something that we’ve seen more frequently in this century.

Stay positive, test negative, give a care for Florida and their situation. I have coffee, thanks. Here’s the tune. Cheers

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Gonna be a hundred F here today, they tell us. I’m doubtful. Rum Creek smoke fills the air, making it unhealthy to breath, but it also blocks the sun and cools the air. I don’t think it’ll go over 95, 96 F today. It’s now 20 C.

After much discussion among replay officials, they’ve concluded that this is Tuesday, August 30, 2022. When I typed that 3-0, The Neurons said, “That ain’t right, is it?” But the replay officials say it’s so, so let’s move on, and play ball. First down.

Happy sunshine sneaked over the eastern mountains and winked through the leaves at 6:34 AM and will take its light and heat and stalk off, probably in a deep red glow, given this smoke, at 7:48 PM. The sun’s light comes through different windows now as the Earth’s relationship with the sun shifts via orbital mechanics. The eastern windows see less sunshine as the sun treks into our southern sky. By the time winter has arrived, we won’t see sunshine through most of the eastern windows.

I’d like to pause to mention folks in Mississippi, coping with their flooding, along with Pakistan. Here’s a call out, too, for the people around the Rum Creek fire here in Oregon, and for those enduring power outages from storms in the U.S. Midwest and South. Send positive energies to these people and places if you can, however you manifest it.

Music – that’s why we’re here, innit? – in the morning mental music stream is “You Only Get What You Give” by the New Radicals, circa 1998. The Neurons, putting their whimsy in the display case, plunked the song into the M3S after I struggled to remember a dream. The dream keeps poking its head out but whenever I shout — mentally or figuratively, right? — “There it is”, the dream ducks out of sight. Maddening. Perhaps after I’ve had coffee…

Better go get some. Duty calls. Stay posi, test negy, and so on. Here’s the music. Sing along if you know it. Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

It’s about 17 C outside. Minute haze dulls the blue sky’s purity. My wife looks out and says, “I wish it would stay like this for a month.” Welcome to Sunday, August 28, 2022.

It won’t stay like this today. 90 F is expected as a high. The sun showed up this AM at 6:32 and will vacate our sky at 7:52 tonight as the length of daylight continues shrinking. I do miss the ocean and beach where we spent last week. Oh, that lovely air, and the glory of hearing the ocean and watching waves hurry in and crash and then drift away. We had no sinus issues there, whereas we began experiencing sinus blockages and postnasal drip when we were still a hundred miles from home. Today brings me full stoppage and the need to blow a few times.

The Neurons are feeding Echosmith and “Cool Kids” (2013) into the morning mental music stream. I don’t know the course that brought the song in. I suspect it emerged from a spectrum of thoughts and slivers of quicksilver dreams at once reflective and amusing. I was a cool kid. Just sayin’, that’s how I was often described. When I pressed why that was used to describe me, people said, as the song says, that I seemed to get it. Yet, I had issues, loads of family matters, though not as heavy as many endure. At least I had shelter and food security. Nobody was abusing me.

Of course, I sang a slighter different version as I pet my orange buddy, the little ginger bear known as Papi. I sang, “I wish that I could be like the cool cats because all of the cool cats get all the kibble.” Papi was too cool to respond beyond disdain. It’s his standard M.O.

The coffee has landed. Stay positive, test negative, and so on. Dream your dream and pursue your hopes. Here’s the music. Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

Well, we come down the hill and turned into a glade, and there it was, majestic as ever: Sunday, August 21, 2022. So I, for one, can say, it does exist. I’ve seen it once and I’ll probably never see it again.

It’s a beautiful day on the beach. Though clouds blanket the sun, its presence is here. The ocean is a sleepy murmur. No fog or marine layer. 64 F. Today will be a little warmer, 70 F.

Sunrise trickle across the eastern skies at 6:26 AM and the sun’s luminescence will leave us with sunset at 8:12 PM.

A dream last night featured Tom Petty saying, “Let’s do the crocodile song, the rock song.” He said this three times, not in a row, but at three different times. I knew he referred to Elton John’s hit. Whenever he said that and his band played, I would go off and tell myself, “I need to be more like Tom Petty, and take more risks, put myself out there.” The dream also featured two-day POTUS Ronald Reagan and four-time NASCAR champ Jeff Gordon. It was an interesting dream.

But when thinking about the dream, “Crocodile Rock” and Tom Petty, The Neurons responded with Tom Petty and “Running Down A Dream”, a hit song from the 1989 album, Full Moon Fever. I was in Germany at Rhein Main Air Base when it was released, returning to America in 1991. The Neurons know I like this song. Who am I to argue with them? Yes, the song has been featured here before, but we’ll survive that.

Yes, I’ve had coffee, so I’m mellow, as are The Neurons. As I say, the ocean is a sweet companion today, in a mellow mood, and it’s infectious. Stay positive, test negative, and so on. Enjoy your Sunday, yeah?


Saturday’s Theme Music

The wheel spins and slows. The marble drops. Spying the results and spreading the word, everyone gets into position to begin another life play.

Today’s performance is Saturday, August 20, 2022. Those who went through this day before and remember it know what to expect. Others need to improvise.

A narrator says in a Morgan Freeman voice, “It’s 6:23 in the morning as the sun unloads it light. An overcast sky is shifted into place over the ocean. Birds hang around on the beach, enjoying the scene without making one. Lazy waves roll in, release their splash, and slid back out. It’s cool but comfortable, sixty-four degrees Fahrenheit. The thermometer won’t show much warmer by the ocean’s side, maybe nudging sixty-eight, sixty-nine. Few people are out. Dog walkers dominate, strolling with leashed pooches. This show will go beyond midnight, but the daylight scenes end at 8:14 this evening. Let the play begin.”

The Neurons have pressed buttons on the morning mental music stream. (They’re still updating to clicks.) Hall and Oates are singing a 1981 hit, “You Make My Dreams”. I was in Texas at the beginning of that year, on Okinawa by June. Stayed there until December 31, 1980, calling Kadena Air Base my home. We lived in a small apartment in a small building with other young American couples, for we were young. Hall and Oates were a favorite group in the building, and their songs are deeply etched into my psyche.

Why this song today? Maybe it was the dreams. The Neurons aren’t confessing anytime soon.

Stay positive and test negative. Wear a mask if it’s needed. Use your judgement and heed the experts. Meanwhile, my coffee is here. Time to start the day. Here’s the music.


Saturday’s Theme Music

Cool air is washing in through the windows as crows caw and talk a few blocks away and a small prop plane drones over the valley. It’s Saturday morning. When I was a nine-to-fiver, I’d jump out of bed on Saturdays and be out of the house by seven. It was all me time, private time. I’d be returned by ten and then the chores and errands kicked off.

So, just to clarify, I was never a nine-to-fiver. Just a term to express working a Monday through Friday work week. I generally started at six AM and was done by three PM. I preferred early hours. More was accomplished in the office before others arrived than at any other time of day. When I had really large projects, I usually went in on Sunday nights and worked on them, because nobody was there to disturb me.

Today is 8/13/2022. The sun quietly cruised into position in the eastern sky at 6:16 this morning and will cruise out at 8:15 PM. Someone posted yesterday on social media that “today is the last day that the sun will set after eight PM if you’re in the northern hemisphere.” No, my friend, it’s not that universal. Wide variances just by traveling a little north and south.

It’s currently 61 F but we’re looking for a high of 25 C. Not bad. Purple Air says our air quality is lime green today, hovering around the border between the yellow and green zones. Not too bad.

The Neurons have put a song called “Sisters” in my morning mental music stream. I asked, what the what? They sniggered. Written by Irving Berlin, the song gained wide popularity after it was included in White Christmas in 1954. Weirdly, these are things I know despite being born two years later. But White Christmas has been shown on television for most of my life. “Sisters” is a song my wife likes, so she sang it frequently. All that prompted me to learn more about it years ago. No clue why it’s in the morning mental music stream.

I rejected “Sisters” as my theme music. I also rejected “Mother” by Danzig. It was featured on Paper Girls, a Prime series which we’re enjoying. Instead, I repudiated Le Neurons by pulling “Tusk” out of my mind and put it into the morning mental music stream. I told my neurons, you’re not the boss of me. I’m not gonna let you tell me what to do, so there. “Tusk” is by Fleetwood Mac. Released in 1979, I find its percussion and the way the lyrics are sort of barked out to be soothing. Plus, it irritates The Neurons, ha ha ha.

Okay, going off on the coffee run to make it up to The Neurons. Stay pos, test neg, etc. Take care of yourself. Enjoy the music, life, and Saturday. Cheers

Frieday’s Theme Music

Take a deep breath. You can smell it in the air: Frieday has arrived.

It’s Frieday, August 12, 2022, but it is Frieday, Frieday, when you can sit back and enjoy some frybread, or crispy and sizzling fried bacon, or hot breaded fried chicken, fish, or shrimp.

That’s how many come to Frieday. Others arrive at Frieday feeling or looking fried. People tell them, “Man, do you look fried.” They answer, “Well, it is Frieday. I’m looking forward to the weekend. I am going to go nuts and do nothing.”

Doesn’t look like our town will fry today. Sunrise started the sizzle at 6:15 AM. Today’s sizzle won’t be much, a low burn high of 86 F. Now it’s a cool 18 C as the mountains bath us with morning air from their tops. Just sixteen hours and one minute from sunrise, the turning away will commence. On the bummer side of this Frieday, air quality has gone down with air particulates pushing the air into the red, scratching the blue sky with brown streaks.

Dreams were long and complicated. I emerged from them feeling good about myself. As I fed cats and ran the morning bifloofalon, I thought about my self-esteem. Those thoughts encouraged The Neurons to break out “Self Esteem” by The Offspring from 1994. A little Youtube scratching found this video of the group performing the song in 1999. I prefer versions where I can see the group playing the music and singing. Doesn’t usually sound as polished as the studio albums, but I like the reminders of the time given by the band’s appearance, the stage, setting, and audience. Feds the flames of nostalgia, yeah?

The boiled black brew is reading for its Frieday tasting. Stay positive, test negative, have a good Frieday and a most excellent weekend, your excellencies. Here’s the music. Cheers

Thirstday’s Theme Music

The wheels of time rolled through another day into Thirstday, August 11, 2022. Thirstday, the time of week when you pause to think of the things for which you thirst. Maybe it’s unrequited love. Or something simpler and more personal, like a cancer cure. Perhaps you thirst for food security and shelter, social justice, or equality. It could be that you thirst for another time, when you knew yourself as a younger person with a wide-open horizon before you. Our thirsts are different, Thirstday reminds us.

Sunshine tore the night covers back at 6:14 AM. The sun’s valley reign will go on to 8:17 PM, taking our temperatures from 18 C where we now sit to 90 F by late afternoon. A wondrously blue sky highlights the day’s placid nature. Everything looks calm, peaceful, and serene. Only arguing jays break the morning stillness.

Wasn’t so a short while again. The house floofs love this weather. Papi turned in a record mad dash as the halls and rooms became LeMans. He took the Mulsanne Straight chicanes flat out, demonstrating mind-blowing speed and control as Tucker watched with bristling white whiskers.

The Neurons have turned to Bill Withers, sliding an old high-school favorite by him from 1972, “Use Me”, into the morning mental music stream. I understand The Neurons’ reasoning. It’s a dream thing which I’m still unknotting. It’s a good song to hear again, to help look back on things in a quiet pause between more urgent matters. Though we never knew one another, Bill and I lived in the same town, Beckley, WV, for a few years. Yeah, it was separated by about six years, so meeting him was remote. Did see him in concert once and have great admiration for him.

My Thirstday coffee is a-calling from the kitchen counter. Stay positive, test negative, etc., endure, survive, and go on to thrive. Here’s the music. Cheers


I knew that I was attending a NASCAR race, though which wasn’t apparent, as I never saw the track, cars, driver, or race. I was with my wife and hundreds of others. We were cozy in a tunnel, under a blanket or tarp, with rain falling outside the tunnel. My wife and I were cuddling and kissing but she was concerned about my girlfriend’s location. She didn’t like my girlfriend and didn’t want her to find us.

My wife spotted my GF walking our way. Hurriedly she moved away from me and hid, urging me to hide, too, which I did. We decided that we needed to get out of there. We got into our long silver minivan. It featured a luxurious cream-colored interior. My wife and I sat in the back row of the long vehicle, kissing a bit.

She said, “We need to go.”

I answered, “Okay.”

We realized that other cars had pulled in on either side. We wouldn’t open the doors. I said, “That’s okay, I’ll drive from back here.”

Putting the car in gear, I reached over the seats and took the steering wheel and gently accelerated forward. We started moving toward another car. My control wasn’t that good. I went to brake and shouted, “I can’t find the brake. I don’t know where it’s at. I can’t see it and I can’t feel it.”

We somehow stopped. I said, “I need to climb over the seats so I can drive.”

Dream end.

Cars & Book Dream

I was staying at an exotic luxury place in a high-end location in the center of some city. I knew these things in my dream. No reason for being there was ever given. Everything was very fancy, chrome, blue windows, steel, and muted white furniture, modern, and new, although never named. I’d been put up in the place and was newly arrived and just familiarizing myself with it. A ground-floor location, several parts of my huge place was open to the street, something that I didn’t find odd, but enjoyed.

Background done, the action began when I walked across the place and accidently kicked a can, sending it out into the traffic. Dusk was settling in and lights were just coming on. Exasperated, I resolved to retrieve the can because everything looked so clean and gorgeous. As I went out to get it, a car hit the can, sending it flying further down the road where another car coming from the opposite direction flattened it.

More irritated, I hastened to get the can. I could see a line of cars accelerating up the double lane toward the can. I would need to rush.

I didn’t make it. Forced back by the oncoming traffic, I then saw a stream of such flattened cans in the street under the cars. I was disgusted.

“Asshole,” someone shouted. I saw two men. Both were white, with mustaches and long brown hair. One was tall and the other was short. One of them had yelled. I thought they meant me.

Seeing me seeing them, they chuckled and said, “We weren’t calling you an asshole. We were going whoever threw their can out an asshole. Unless it was you who did it. Then we are calling you an asshole.”

“No,” I answered, “I didn’t throw a can.” I explained what’d been going on.

They noticed a small hardcover book I carried and began talking about it. An older book, the tome was about three racing drivers, but the novel was considered ‘literary’. The two men highly recommended it. I responded that I was a novelist and the book enticed me because of its literary reputation, but I’d also been a racing fan.

We were walking by then. I was looking for my place and couldn’t find it. They invited me to join them at a restaurant for a drink. I agreed and we went into a red-theme place — red carpet and bar, red leather seats, red lights, red walls and curtains, red neon. As we chatted, the tall one went off for our drinks and the short one said that he hoped I was serious about what I said about the book and that I wasn’t just going along with them.

I told him, no, and we started chatting about racing. I told him that the late sixties and early seventies had captured my deepest racing interest. I enjoyed the three-liter Formula 1 cars of that age, especially Lotus and the 72, but also the Tyrrells, the Indy cars dominated by the Offy and Ford engines, the sports-racing cars of LeMans like the Chaparral 2D, and the Can Am cars like the McLarens, the Lola T70, and the 2J. (Yes, I actually said all of this in the dream.) They remarked with smiles that it sounded like I really knew my cars. The tall one said, “You should meet my sister.”

We’d finished our drinks and I decided to go. The dream’s final sequences involved me retracing my steps, looking for where I was staying, and then finding it.

Dream end. It was all quite vivid and sharply remembered.

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