Neil Also Said
Friday’s Theme Music
Weep for yourself, my man,
You’ll never be what is in your heart
Weep, little lion man,
You’re not as brave as you were at the start
Rate yourself and rake yourself
Take all the courage you have left
And waste it on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head
But it was not your fault but mine
And it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
Didn’t I, my dear?
Didn’t I, my…
h/t to AZLyrics cuz cut and paste is easier than typing.
So it was that “Little Lion Man” by Mumford & Sons (2009) was going through my head this morning. Writing, a dream, and cats share almost equal weight in bringing the song into my stream.
The dream was about jigsaw puzzles, parties, hockey, and drunk celebrities in a brightly lit and strangely joyful montage that also seemed a bit fucked up, and left me to, well, puzzle it out. The cat was the little ginger lion that I was talking to this morning (you’re not as brave as you were at the start). Writing…well, writing is all about fixing the problems in my head. Not exactly a dark place, but not a clean, well-lighted place for enjoying life, either.
So, now, after singing the song to myself yesterday after writing, it returned to me after thinking about my dreams this morning, and gained strength when I was talking with the cat. Thus, it must be outed from my stream before it gains too much steam and stays too long.
For the record, I enjoy Mumford & Sons’ style, and its infusion of unique sounds in rock music. This video, with its intensity, and the sense of isolation and alienation that I find in it, keeps me watching. It’s like a confession that he’s making to himself but also a dialogue in his head that he imagines having, as the others play and listen. Then, they all join in, as though it was universal to the band members. Through it all flows introspection, a simmering sense of regret, and a realization.
Monday’s Theme Music
It seems like my mind is determined to turn back time in my dreams. It’s also making all these song connections. (Like, boom, Cher has begun singing, “If I could turn back time.”)
The dreams were crazy chaos, leaving images like flashes of sunlight off of windshields. The dreams’ theme was ‘anything goes’. That theme conjured up the show tune from the musical with the same name, “Anything Goes”, which, let’s see…came out twenty-two years before my birth, but the movie did come out the year I was born.
Out of this throwback, go-go sense came the song that’s haunting the morning’s stream (now I have this image of a musical urine stream…oh, boy. (“I heard the news today, oh boy.” Yeah, the Beatles.) It’s from a 1964 movie, so I was eight.
The song is “The Monkey’s Uncle”. Although the Beach Boys perform it with Annette Funicello singing it, it’s written by the Sherman Brothers. Yeah, I looked it up. I knew the first two pieces but not the third. The Sherman Brothers were prolific songwriters. You should check out their list. I can tell you that one of their other songs, “It’s A Small World”, has entered my stream.
Meanwhile, the monkey’s uncle idiom amuses me. In one of those flashes in the dream, someone else says it in what feels like a sitcom moment. I’m looking at the guy when he does. Canned laughter kicks in, and then the song begins.
I don’t hear people say, “I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” that often any longer. I think it was dying out as a popular saying even when I was young, sputtering along in movies and television where caricatures of old folks say it.
That frenetic dream activity left me felt energized, like it was a storm blowing out my mind’s systems. Anyway, the long and short of it (had to throw that in, it was in dream), is “The Monkey’s Uncle” is today’s theme music.
Feel free to sing along, or if you’re like me, laugh along, with the video.
Here We Are
Here we sit, on the first day of 2020.
Memes about the roaring twenties abound, but others are attracted to the vision aspect of 20/20. That’s funny when you think of it; people often think of 20/20 vision as perfect vision.
It’s not.
“A person with 20/20 vision can see what an average individual can see on an eye chart when they are standing 20 feet away,” says Dr. McKinney, an ophthalmologist and glaucoma specialist at Eye Health Northwest in Oregon City, Ore.
An eye chart measures visual acuity, which is the clarity or sharpness of vision. The top number refers to your distance in feet from the chart. The bottom number indicates the distance at which a person with normal eyesight can read the same line.
For example, if you have 20/30 vision, it means your vision is worse than average. When you are standing 20 feet from the chart, you can read letters that most people see when they are 30 feet away.
h/t to American Academy of Ophthalmology.
You can argue that 20/20 means clear vision to you. That’s fine; we’re not here to nitpick.
Whatever it means and whatever you do, when you create your vision for this day, week, month, project, or year, make it your vision for you to see where you’re going, and give yourself some ways to measure your progress.
If you’re serious about wanting to achieve that vision, you should write it down. Studies have shown that doing so helps you become more likely to achieve your dreams (h/t to Huffpost). Evidence exists that the path to success becomes stronger if you share your dreams and ambitions with a friend who believes in your ability to succeed.
So, don’t wait for success and achievement to fall into your lap. Pursue it. Write it down. Put it out there. Find someone who believes in your ability to succeed.
Create your vision and pursue your dreams.
Cheers
Water Dream
It was a water dream featuring Dad.
He and I lived in a house together. I was a teenager. Our house was pleasant and modern, with water features in the backyard.
We were going about the early morning with him talking to me about something as we were in the backyard. Hearing running water, I traced the source to a pipe sticking out of the house’s side beside the faucet. I’d never seen that on a house.
Water started flowing from it. I put my hand under it; it was was warm. I said, “Dad, I think something is wrong. There’s warm water coming out of this pipe.”
Dad said, “Yeah, we’d better check it out.” Then he went on about how he needed to go out and get something to eat. When he talked about the food, his choices appalled me. He was saying something about getting about a dozen sliders and I ended up asking him to get me a couple.
“But what about the water?” I asked.
“You take care of that for me,” he said.
I went into the house. Shock struck. Water was seeping out of everywhere. The kitchen floor was swollen with a huge lump in the middle. Horror seizing me, I thought, “This water is pent up and is going to burst, where are the valves, I need to shut the water off,” and ran to find the valves.
Dad returned (I don’t think he’d actually left but had been in another part of the house). I showed him the lump and leaks. I told him that I’d shut the water off. He said, “We’d better do something about that. Find someone to call.”
Ready for the pipes to burst, I dug out the phone book to call a plumber.
The dream ended.
Editing note: No, I didn’t get up and go to the bathroom.
Monday’s Theme Music
Counseling myself last night as I stepped out and hunted stars through the descending night fog, I thought about plans, and how easy it is to slip into a comfortable rut and let yourself stay there, successful in the rut to the detriment of everything else. I realized that I’d done that to myself. Easy to do, especially when the rut gives you joy.
My rut is writing. It satisfies me in so many ways, but it definitely steals energy from the rest of my life. I knew I had to shift myself out of my rut when I had my response to agents being interested in some of my work and my response was, meh. That’s just not right.
So I began hunting and shifting the mental and emotional levers to ply myself from my rut. More easily said, am I right? The duality of it all struck me. I’m a person that feels the darkness and rages about once a month, ready to shuck everything in fury and despair. Then that passes and I’m good to go again. I’m fortunate that I know my cycle and cope with it, but not fortunate that I have such a cycle. I’m fortunate, too, that I can see into myself and find the levers to change the cogs. This comes from being sixty plus and having friends and relatives who’d make comments to me that opened my awareness to how others see me, subsequently providing me with greater insight into myself. It comes from luck, too; others know these things but struggle more with it than me. (Yeah, and there’s a ton of other stuff, nature vs. nurture, socialization, genes, etc. We’re dynamic, complicated beings, always playing on the balance of a blade.)
Well, to the music, then, because this is about the day’s theme music. Into this crucible of thought flowed words from “Over My Head (Cable Car)” by The Fray (2005).
Everyone knows I’m in
Over my head
Over my head
With eight seconds left in overtime
She’s on your mind
She’s on your mind
h/t to Songmeanings.com for the lyrics, because it’s easier to get them right by copying and pasting.
It was that ‘eight seconds left in overtime’ that I keyed to, not that there was pressure, nor that time was running out, rather the impetus from the image of a sports game that something needs to be done. The goals are clear; now execute. Get ‘er done.
Laborious explanation for a song choice, innit? Happy Monday, campers. Cheers
The Déjà Vu Dream
I believe it was a dream. But —
I often enjoy oatmeal for breakfast. Berries, fruit, and nuts are frequently added for taste and nutrition.
A large bag of walnut pieces is kept in the refrigerator (so they won’t go rancid). As I pulled them out, I flashed on the bag falling open. Walnut pieces poured out.
Standing there, I didn’t recall anything like that happening to me, and thought that it was a dream. It seemed so startling real that I looked around to see if any walnuts were in the refrigerator or on the floor.
I remembered then that I’d been talking to someone as I was doing this. Music had been playing in the background. I was aware of the music and recognized it but I don’t know what it was now.
So many walnuts poured out of the back, it seemed like half of the bag had emptied. Yet, when I closed the bag, I was surprised to discover it was still almost full. But the refrigerator drawer had enough walnuts in it to fill another bag.
Whoever was with me hadn’t noticed anything going on, so I said, “Look at this. Look at all these walnuts.”
They asked, “Where’d they come from?”
Holding up the bag, I said, “From this bag. But the bag is still almost full.”
The other came over and looked. “Yeah, that’s something.”
End of dream (or memory).
I am about ninety percent certain that it was a dream. Thinking about it as I finished making my oatmeal, I chuckled to myself. Was I telling myself that I was nuttier than I realized?
###
After I typed this out, I saw a photo of a squirrel on the net. The photo triggered a fuller memory. The walnut incident was a dream last night.
After the walnuts had spilled out, etc., the dream continued. I’d gone outside. Two cats were present. One was ours and the other belonged to a neighbor. (Neither are cats that I know/recognize from life.)
My wife and I were trying to keep ourselves safe, along with the cats. To that end, the cats were kept in a large and hilly fenced yard with many trees, but the cats kept getting out. I kept asking, “How are these cats getting out?” Watching them, I’d discover a secret path or a hole in the fence and block it only to see them out there again, and discover that another secret way existed.
The neighbor’s cat then came in through a secret tunnel with a squirrel in their mouth. The squirrel was alive. I then noticed the yard had many squirrels. I concluded that the cat was going out, finding squirrels, capturing them, and bringing them in. As I realized this, I saw her coming in through another underground tunnel, carrying another squirrel in her mouth.
I told my wife what I was seeing. Then, remembering the walnuts, I rushed inside, got the bag of walnuts, and brought them out to feed the squirrels.
Dream ended.
The Dreams
No dreams last night that I remember. Wonder what that’s all about?
Slept normally and feel wonderful today. Strong and exciting day of writing yesterday. Holiday parties successfully navigated, and now in the rear view mirror.
I guess, no stress. The dreams were standing down for the night. Odd feeling, not to have dreams to think about as I pursue the morning.
Onward.
The Hated Dreams
I hated the dreams that I had last night. All were about being overlooked, forgotten, or ignored. All featured others being given promotions, honors, and awards.
Little surprise was experienced as I reviewed the dreams. I’m sliding into the dark side of my spectrum. Haven’t visited it for almost sixty days – or, more likely, it was visited and overcome. This week, though, I heard the dark side spitting and hissing at me, felt its snake bite sometimes, etc. Coping with it – fighting is the wrong thing to do (for me – your needs probably vary) (unless you’re me, of course) (and if you ARE me, what the hell are you doing out there?) and its impact, I felt myself losing the battles. Part of that is being forced to socialize more – ’tis the season (ho, ho, fucking ho). Socializing drains me faster than an old car battery with the lights left on (but it’s expected, why don’t you want to see friends and have fun? Why must you be like this? Oh, sorry, when I made this choice, I didn’t look at the entire menu, or I would have gone with something else. Sure, it’s all that easy, because life is binary, black or white, innit? And it’s all within our control.) (Bah, humbug.) (I should coin that.)
Well, to me (and these dreams), I said, fuck you, too (yeah, original – I should be a writer). I know what’s going on. Can’t quite shrug it off so much as cope and swore, whine and moan, and remind myself, this shit will also pass.
Coffee, stat.And maybe a scone, too. Comfort foods. It’s that time of life.
Michael Seidel, writer 