I’ve been under a barrage of dreams the last two nights. All of them have been as fleeting as me meteors on a summer night. One impression remains bold from one dream: I learned that Frank Sinatra was my father.
Bet that’ll be a surprise to Mom.
A Short Mom Dream
Snow had fallen but now a sun blazed in the sky, transforming roads into slushy paths. All very picturesque, though. I was inside the house, waiting for Mom to return with my sisters. As usual, I hid from them when they first came in, springing out and surprising them, making them laugh.
We were busy with a multitude of things simultaneously. I went out and walked on the slushy asphalt, testing my footing. It all seemed safe.
A sister called my name from the house door, telling me that Mom wanted my help. When I went in, Mom was struggling with papers and stuff on a table. “Help me figure out my transportation, Michael,” she said. “I need to know who to call and where I need to go when I need to go somewhere.”
Sisters were in the mess, reading things. I picked up a few items and realized after reading that she only needed to go two places to catch transportation. So I marked the phone with bold black letters and began explaining things to her.
She immediately began firing protests back. “But what if I want to — “
I kept explaining that it could all be done with what I’d figured out. Press the 1 one the phone where I’d marked it to go to these places. Press the two for these places. The telephone numbers were programmed into the phone. Then she just needed to go to the place corresponding to the one or the two to be picked up. 1’s pickup spot was her house, so she didn’t even need to leave.
We went on in that vein for a few minutes before the dream ended.
It reminded me so much of being home last month and helping Mom figure out her medications.
Friday’s Theme Music
Coffee has arrived. The first two sips of the gorgeously hot brew invigorate my senses and awakens my palette. Here we go, The Neurons sing.
Today is Friday, October 14 of the common era year 2022. I skim headlines and press on to other matters before the news blunts my energy and takes my soul. 57 and chilly under a pristine blue sky, sunshine began its daily visit at 7:22 ante meridiem. Sunshine will linger until 6:38 post meridiem. Temperatures are again foretold to have a high in the upper eighties. After a windshift yesterday, the smoke cleared and we struck 86 F around my house, a wonderfully warm, comfortable day, with a faint breeze and mild humidity. Our leaves haven’t done much turning in this area, nor are they dropping yet, a huge contrast to where I stayed in Penn Hills, PA. during the move from September to October. Guess the trees decided to wait for my return before launching their fall show. Gracious of them, innit?
For theme music, given that it’s Friday, The Neurons loaded that golden oldie, “Friday Friday”. I grew up on those lyrics. “Friday, Friday, how I love that day. Out of school and work at last, and free to play.” Nipping on that song’s heels comes a familiar favorite, “Black Friday” by Steely Dan.
Yes, Friday is on my mind. Instead of those songs, though, The Neurons re-introduce me to “Slide” by the Goo Goo Dolls. Released two or three lifetimes ago, which can be calculated as 1998, it’s another song in the catalogue created as I commuted to and from home to shop and work in the SF Bay Area and peninsula at the end of the last century. Why that song, I query The Neurons. It’s about a pregnant girl and her boyfriend debating choices about what to do. Jimmy Neuron answers, “It’s just those words, I’ll do anything ever dreamed to be complete, or something like that.” Oh, I answer. Oh. It’s about the dreams and the quests, huh? I see.
Test negative and stay positive, or as The Neurons call it, negapos. So be negapos. Sorry, that’s the coffee. It’s taken over The Neurons. Here’s the music. Hope you own Friday and it doesn’t end up owning you.
Cheers
Twofer Dreams
I had two memorable dreams last night.
The first came to me in red and black. It was all seen in silhouettes. As short and simple as its color palette, I was going for a run. Going less than twenty to thirty yards, I encountered a force field which wouldn’t let me go further. Annoyed, I turned and ran back the other way, past my house, only to be stopped by another force field. Three times this happened. At that point dream thinking burbled up, I’m not supposed to go further. I guess ‘they’ want me to stay home to get better. Wait, am I sick?
After awakening and pondering that one for a few dark minutes, I rolled back into sleep and to another dream. In this one, I wore a blue and white checked shirt with blue jeans. A teenager, I was visiting a girl, blonde, bubbly, friendly. I was attracted to her, so this was essentially the early days of courting to see if she had any interest in me.
She became friendly and flirtatious. We didn’t kiss or anything, but I went home pleased and then returned the next day. At the end of this visit, it was suggested that I stay the night there as a precaution against something going on that wasn’t clear. I wasn’t real comfortable with that but the girl and her Mom convinced me. Stripping down to my undies, I slept on their game room sofa. The game room was essential a finished basement. After spending the night, I dressed, thinking that I’d go back home now. But no, the girl had plans for the day. We stayed at her house but I only saw her off and on.
Now I was becoming concerned about her father. He’d been gone but was now back. I didn’t relish encountering him in the early morning, especially in clothes which I’d been wearing for several days while trying to get romantic with his daughter. Instead of leaving the game room, I stayed down there in hiding. By now I’d convinced myself that I needed to get home and was plotting how to sneak away.
Guests arrived. I eavesdropped, learning that they were neighboring women who were friends with the mother. It was mentioned in passing that I was staying there. I guessed that something had happened at my house and this was a ruse to keep me here. They all agreed that I was a ‘very nice boy, very smart and kind’, and that this was better for me. Wanting to know what was going on, I slipped out and headed home through a sunsplashed fall day where all the trees had already lost their leaves. The change of season was a surprise; I thought it was summer.
Dream end.
Her Dreams
She says that she vividly dreams all the time and tells him about two. Both were recurring. In one, she was with her ex-son-in-law. He’s in many of her dreams but in this recurring dream, she and he are in a huge house. Others are there but she doesn’t remember who the others are. The SIL says, “We’re going to bring a lot of children here, so we need to start making beds.” She thinks in response that they’re not ready and that’s going to upset her daughter.
The other recurring dream, experienced three nights in a row, was about being in a huge mansion. She said it cost over a billion dollars to build. It’s sealed off from the outside world. But she thinks, there’s no oxygen. There’s no air. She can’t breathe.
She dreamed that one while she was in the hospital on oxygen, fighting COVID pneumonia.
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?
Cheers
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.
Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 