Tag: Dreams

Twosda’s Theme Music

Welcome, welcome to Twosda, June 17, 2025. We’re continuing a nice weather balance in Ashlandia, dropping into the fifties at night, sunny & cloudy during the day, high of 84 F. No one has been heard complaining.

Although I slept well, I had a night rich with dreams. Papi has refined a way of awakening me which can only be called a bark. I don’t know where this cat learned his bark. I guess he went out and hung around with some dogs, heard them barking, and then imitated them. It’s effective — for him. I wish he’d go back to purrs and nuzzles.

My wife’s ‘movie group’ is meeting today. One of them began hosting about a dozen of her exercise class comrades to watch and discuss movies. Today, they’re watching the 1990 flick, Truly, Madly, Deeply, in which the late Alan Rickman plays a ghost, and Juliet Stevenson is his widow. What surprised me was how many of the rest professed to be unaware of the film. My wife and I both enjoyed it on its theater run and have seen it again since. She is a big fan of it and suggested the film. I’m interested in learning whether others remember the film when they see it again.

Dad’s surgery went well. He told me that his kidney was stented; his wife said, no, he had a nephrostomy tube and drainage bag installed. Come on, give him a break; he’s 92. When I speak to him and ask him for details such as, “Where did they put the stent,” he replies, “Hell, I don’t know. Ask Maxine. She takes notes.” Maxine is his wife (#3, and the longest tenured wife by far).

There’s something wrong with Trump. We have many ideas about what it is. Now we have Catheter Gate & Bag Gate. This is based on Trump’s leaning forward walk, like something is irritating his ass, and photos which seem to show a catheter installed in his johnson area. Since he’s our elected official, don’t we have a right to know? To employ the voice used when Republicans are demanding answers from Democrats, WHAT ARE THEY HIDING FROM US? IS TRUMP DYING? Well, of course he’s dying — just ask Sen. Joni Ernst. But is he dying so fast that he’s failing to do us job? Is he a liability? We the People demand to know the truth about what’s protruding in those photos. Snopes claims they investigated and Trump isn’t wearing a catheter but the Trump Regime may have gotten to them. We want answers and we won’t accept anything reasonable until Trump takes off his pants on national TV and shows us that he’s not wearing a catheter, bag, or diaper. Even then, we probably won’t accept it because that could be Trump clone or a Trumpbot, or AI creating a wholly fake television event.

Trump fled the G7 conference in Canada. He claimed it was because of Mid East tensions but many believe he was just Taco Always Chickening Out again. In this case, the meeting was structured, they weren’t deferring to him, and he wasn’t getting the attention he wanted and kept being quoted saying stupid things, so he fled. That’s so TACO!

Today’s music is “Tough Guy”. It’s a 1980 Reo Speedwagon song. Don’t know why The Neurons plugged it into the morning mental music stream. I was just reading the news online about Trump fleeing the G7 when that song kicked off in the stream.

Coffee has snuggled into my system again. You all have a good one. Here we go, one more time. Cheers

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Frida’s Theme Music

Frida, June 13th, 2025, breached with cold air and muzzled sunshine. 59 F, we’re pacing ourselves to climb to 74 F. It’s a chill day. Feels good out there.

Another night of dreams. They covered feeling lost and frustrated, ignored, and change that confused me. Awakened, I felt heavy with loss and disappointment, struggling to find direction and traction, like I’m spinning my wheels to stay in place.

We saw more Trump Justice Two Step last night. Judge said, “Illegal to put them National Guard into LA, Donald,” and another court said, “Keep doing it while we talk about this.” I laughed when Trump’s lawyers argued that California should not “second-guess the President’s judgment that federal reinforcements were necessary” and that a federal court should defer to the president’s discretion on military matters. Oh, they can rouse themselves to such pompous righteous indignation. Trump loves to say he’s leaving things up to the states. ‘I’m gonna wean them off FEMA.’ “The people on the ground know what’s going on and can take care of it best,” he said before.

But he’s fast to ignore the state’s rights and decisions when it doesn’t suit him and barge right in wherever the fuck he wants. The principle behind his moves are always, “Me Donald, you I hate.” In this case, he hates Gov. Newsom and California because he lost California. Didn’t get within sniffing distance of winning it.

TACO is very predictable in his lawless ways. “You spit, we hit!” But that wasn’t the case with the J6 insurrectionists. Yeah, they were attacking the nation, doing a lot more damage phsically and judicially, as the J6 gang attacked the police. No, that had TACO saying, “Me Donald, me love you,” because they were doing it for him. He’s sickening, and the GOP is sickening and shameful for going along with his twisted hyperbole. They won’t be happy until they burn the nation down and then they’ll blink their eyes wide and say, “Gosh, what happened?” Just as they did with multiple previous fiascos. See the Gulf Wars as a big fucking example. My contempt for them has surged out past Starlink.

I’m also having a good laugh at MAGAts. They’re trying to excuse the DC parade as planned BT: Before Trump. One MAGAt declared that President Obama became planning it, lazily conflating celebrating the Army’s 250 year anniversary with the bloated military display scheduled for this weekend. That’s the MAGAts, always bending over for TACO to screw them.

I have “Creep” by Radiohead in the morning mental music stream. Just that sort of morning. Here, little TACO. This is for you.

Pressing on with coffee to go get things done. Let’s be safe out there. Cheers

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Thursda’s Theme Music

Come in, come in, come in. Welcome to Thursda, June 12 2025.

It was a beautiful night for sleeping for me. After a high in the low 80s F yesterday, the night temp zipped down 52 F. I had a window open over my head and a light blanket on my nekkid body. Cool breezes lapped and refreshed me all night long. Truly a sinn-sational sleep experience. Hope the rest of the world experienced the same.

Today’s weather peeked over yesterday’s shoulder and said, “That’s what I’m going to do, too.” 64 F now, sunshine is climbing though cloud-hazed blue sky toward a high of 81 F.

It’s a rare Thursda’s fourfer in the morning mental music stream. Four reasons stand behind The Neurons’ thinking. First and second, two major musical influences on my childhood passed away. That would be Sly Stone and Brian Wilson. Third, PINO Trump is rolling the nation back to the 1960s, escalating violence and warning, “If you spit, we hit.” Fourth, I did some dreaming.

For Brian Wilson departure from this existence, The Neurons summoned a favorite of theirs, “Good Vibrations” from 1966. I was ten years old when the transistor radio speakers roared with this Beach Boy tune. I enjoyed it from the start.

For Sly Stone, The Neurons recalled “Everyday People”. I remembered my buddy Curt talking about this new song and how excited he was when it came on the radio when we were at the ballfield talking about getting a pickup game of baseball going. The song was a wonderful mélange of funk, rock, and pop with neat but meaningful lyrics.

For the 1960s vibe, Jackson Browne was drafted to play “Doctor My Eyes” from 1972. I just felt that the song, though an upbeat melody, captures and projects the weariness we’re enduring in the Age of Trump, when right is wrong, good is evil, and down is up. I particularly enjoy the memorable guitar work by Jesse Ed Davis.

Doctor, my eyes have seen the years
And the slow parade of fears without crying
Now I want to understand
I have done all that I could
To see the evil and the good without hiding
You must help me if you can?

Doctor, my eyes, tell me what is wrong
Was I unwise to leave them open for so long

‘Cause I have wandered through this world
And as each moment has unfurled
I’ve been waiting to awaken from these dreams
People go just where they will
I never noticed them until I got this feeling
That it’s later than it seems

Finally, from the dream world comes the 1986 Van Halen offering, “Dreams”.

World turns black and white
Pictures in an empty room
Your love starts fallin’ down
Better change your tune
Yeah, you reach for the golden ring
Reach for the sky
Baby, just spread your wings

And get higher and higher
Straight up we’ll climb
We’ll get higher and higher
Leave it all behind

Run, run, run away
Like a train runnin’ off the track
Got the truth bein’ left behind
Fall between the cracks
Standin’ on broken dreams
Never losin’ sight, ah
Well, just spread your wings

We’ll get higher and higher
Straight up we’ll climb
We’ll get higher and higher
Leave it all behind

So baby, dry your eyes
Save all the tears you’ve cried
Oh, that’s what dreams are made of
‘Cause we belong
In a world that must be strong
Oh, that’s what dreams are made of

Songwriters: Sammy Hagar, Edward Van Halen, Alex Van Halen, Michael Anthony. From Musixmatch

Well, I’m off. Have your best day possible. Coffee, quick. Let’s go.

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Twosda’s Theme Music

The morning’s routine skipped past faster than a visit with a good friend. Starting at 53 F when Papi ordered me out of bed, the sun pushed the day through the sixties in short order. It’s a hot sun. Yeah, all suns are hot, but you know what I mean, that given air temp and sun angle and other factors, this one puts out extensive heat in our region. A cool northerly breeze sometimes drops in with relief. We sit at 75 F as we race toward an 89 F high. Sunshine? You bet. Blue sky cuts a fine scene behind the green themes of the hills and mountains surrounding us. Ice still caps the highest posts for a moment. This is Twosda, May 27, 2025.

My wife and I spoke about transitioning out of the holiday mode. I said, “Isn’t it interesting that we’re aware of that, that we feel that, even though we don’t work? Yet, we feel that holiday spirit.”

She made a face. “It was a weak holiday. We have the so-called leader of our country denigrating and insulting many of those who fought for this country because of a difference in politics or skin color and things like that. It’s pretty sad. Pathetic, really.”

No argument from me. I’m pleased that with the bad weather warnings and air traffic control issues, no major disaster marred the weekend. That feels like slim praise: yea, no crashes! We made it. But that’s the state of the nation under Trump.

I read that consumer confidence was up higher than economists expected. I heard that it was because Trump put off doing something with tariffs. People apparently responded, “Yea, we’re saved!” I had to laugh. Like the arsonist didn’t start a fire, so everyone is happy because there’s no fire to put out.

Meanwhile, the Senate takes up Trump’s Big Disastrous Bill. One of them at least and at last mentioned the piece of non-finance legislation in this spending bill that says, “Courts can’t say Trump or his administration are in contempt.” So they just want to keep re-writing the laws to cut out criticism of his un-Constitutional behavior. That’s so sad, weak, and spineless. If the merits his decisions and ideas can’t stand the scrutiny of the law, they’re not worthwhile. By calling for weaker enforcement against him, the Greedy Old Trump Party just hastens us toward the bottom. We’ve been climbing that mountain for hundreds of years and they’re happily pushing us back down it.

Dreams influence by music choice today. A lasting image from my dream had me speeding through a bold blue sky. It wasn’t flying but free fall. But The Neurons supplied “Fly By Night” by Rush to my morning mental music stream. The progressive rock song from 1975 has a spirited, uplifting feel to it. It came out the year my wife and I married, and was sort of an anthem for me as I went about my military career. Neurons have it right as a theme choice, I think, as the lyrics go, “Fly by night away from here, change my life again.” That’s about how I feel, but in a good way.

Coffee has made its entrance. Time to rock on. I hope the best for you and your day. Here we go again. Cheers

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A Dream In A Dream

I dreamed I plunged through a blue sky. Arms at my side, I wore a helmet and face plate. Bulleting thousands of feet, I made my hands into fists at the last minute, put my arms straight out in front of me, and crashed into a thickly iced sea. Breaking through the ice, I entered icy indigo water, then celebrated my success. I was meant to break through the ice and knew it could only be done from a great height.

I then awoke in my dream and remembered my ice-breaking sky dive and its outcome, and was pleased again. After that, was up and moving around. Dressed casually, today was my big day. I’d do the ice-breaking dive later that day. For now, I was just tying up loose ends. This was both my last day and my first day. I was crossing an intersection from what I’d been to what I would be.

My spirits were buoyant. Doubt kept flitting through me. Could I really do the ice-breaking dive? It seemed risky and dangerous. I reminded myself that I’d done it in a dream. Did a dream matter? No, but it had not been a dream, but a practice run. I pondered that as I went around outside, across broad green swaths, around copses of trees and small arrangements of modern buildings, often in white,, saying good-byes to others and hello to more.

I worried about some of the things I was leaving behind. These were military matters, such as readiness reports. But I told myself, that was their problem, not mine. I also didn’t think they did those things the same way that I did them. So, no, don’t worry, I told myself. Time to move on.

And that’s where the dream stopped. Or at least, my memory of it.

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Frida’s Theme Music

I’m still riding a good mood. Knock on wood, right? Well, depends on your age and beliefs, I guess. I was speaking with someone the other day who claimed that ‘knocking on wood’ was to summon good spirits. I always heard/slash read it was the opposite: to scare off evil spirits or to avoid tempting fate.

Today is Frida, May 23, 2025. Sunny in Ashlandia, we’re anticipating a warm stretch. It’s not going to be a steady rise. Today will be 75, tomorrow will be 82 F, and then it drops a little again before rising into the nineties by Wenzda. Clouds lurk like spectators at a crime scene but blue sky and sunshine are on the main stage.

Per usual in Trumpland, the news is a blender full of good and bad news. Supreme Court rulings, miscarriage of justice, vindictive DOJ action on Trump’s behalf, redistribution of wealth to the wealthy at everyone else’s expense catch most of my attention. I was intrigued to see how expensive beef is becoming. I don’t eat much beef so prices have skyrocketed without me noticing. Lot of it is driven by Texas beef and the cost of feed. The cost of feed has increased because of drought. Don’t worry; Trump will be all over this, as he’s a big advocate of addressing climate change. Yes, that’s snark. We know Trump will try to blame former President Joe Biden and the Democrats for it. I’ll just shake my head and move on until the rest catchup. With tariffs on beef from multiple countries, beef prices are set to increase more.

Today’s music is related to a dream. I was in the kitchen, chatting with Papi, aka butter butt, about his brekkie when dream snippets floated in on my brain waves. As more dream made its way into memory, I recalled an individual in the dream telling me, “Don’t forget me when I’m gone. I won’t forget you.” It’d been a touching dream scene.

The Neurons were on that like Trump jumping on a woman. “Don’t Forget Me (When I’m Gone)” was soon playing in my morning mental music stream. I had no idea what year it came out or who performed it. The net helped me learn that it was 1986 and a Canadian group called Glass Tiger.

Alright. Got my coffee at the coffee shop. Sunshine is warming the outside world, and shadows grow shorter and sharper as we move into the afternoon. It’s Memorial Day weekend and vehicle traffic in Ashland has jumped. Hope you have an awesome day. Cheers

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Wenzda’s Theme Music

Sunshine and blue skies are beckoning me out in Ashlandia today. Supposed to be 78 F today, but it’s gonna have to climb from its current 52 F. Feels like the local weather has it in it to do so, though.

This is Wenzda, May 21, 2025. May is splitting past me faster than forked lightening. I’m astonished by its speed. They tell me that time goes faster for you as you age. If I reach 80, I’m be blinking away in the morning and getting ready for bed at the same time. Maybe it’ll just feel like it is.

I’m in a very good mood today. Don’t know what nutrition and hormones and factors out of my dream network and thinking network brought me to this zenith of eagerness and satisfaction. It’s a periodic thing, though. I wrote almost the same words not a few months ago. How the world seems like it’s getting thrown into the garbage disposal and the water is on and the switch is about to be thrown, taking many good things down the drain and into the past. I hear of Trump’s “Big Beautiful Bill” and I just want to puke with disgust and anger, yet here I am, with high spirits and happiness. Probably a high from editing myself. Reading the novel again to fix what’s wrong, I’m happy and pleased. I wrote what I like to read, and I’m enjoying it. Just like that, it’s all about me. Really is a surreal existence.

Today’s music is a ZZ Top cover. Isaac Hayes and Dave Porter wrote it. Sam and Dave recorded and released it. Then along came ZZ Top with their version of “I Thank You.” I do like ZZ’s version best; it just better suits my sensibilities. Why the song has settled into my morning mental music stream is only The Neurons to know. I’ve been reading about recent research on dreams and how they’re made. I was interested because I dream a lot. They speculate now that it’s a network working together using many more functions than originally guessed, and not housed in one specific place, like the hippocampi. Reading that, I wondered if some similar network worked to produce the songs that land in my morning mental music stream.

Going to the music, I’ll give you Sam and Dave and ZZ Top’s offerings, because we all don’t have the same musical tastebuds. Both are terrific.

Coffee is lifting me higher. I’m ready for another day, at least for the moment. Hope you have a great one. Here we go.

Cheers

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Dream Repeat: A Running Dream

My dream seasons amuse me. There was a period of episodic adventure dreams that didn’t seem to have me as a character. There are dystopian dreams where I’m part of a cadre of survivors. Military dreams are common in which I arrive at a new assignment and something goes wrong. Then there’s the running dream.

The running dream was had again last night. In them, as in others, I’m running. Yes, that is why it’s called a running dream. This running was being done on a timed closed course full of hills and curves, really like a sports-car or Formula 1 circuit. No purpose was given. All I know is that I arrived to run. My sisters are present to cheer me on. Stripping down to the basics of shoes, trunks, and shirt, I take off on a timed practice run.

I finish and my time is announced. People are astonished by my speed.

But I’m not pleased. I think, I can do better. So I set out again, again, and again. My time improves every time. I’m getting faster and faster. Moreover, I’m noting where I’m slow. Certain curves and hills slow me down. I systematically develop ways to overcome those issues.

Fans are now lining the start/finish line and most of the track. They cheer me on, along with my sisters. My sisters also brag about me. I hear them telling others, “I knew he’d be fast.” Other contestants are dropping out because they don’t think they can beat me. I’m try to encourage them to remain in the race, telling them, it’ll be a good learning experience, and I might not win. They might find more speed in themselves; I might hurt myself. I could fall and fail to finish the race.

But on race day, I’m alone as the sole competitor.

Dream end.

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A Positive Dream

Dreamland hasn’t been a happy place recently. Dreams featured me being lost and struggling. Maggots coming out of my skin. Being a broken robot. Etc. Different nights. Each brought a new horror of who I was. I disliked those dreams.

The Neurons flipped the script last night. In this one, a young and vigorous me was starting a new job. In medical device manufacturing, as I did for a few years. I was a mid-level manager. Working alone, as, again, I often did. But I had a great cast of supportive, friendly co-workers. They checked in on me. Helped me set up an office. Joked with me and came to me for my opinion, advice, and insights.

There were some messy moments. Like, my clothes became filthy from an office accident that didn’t otherwise involve me. I felt that I had to get out of those clothes but what was I going to wear? Co-workers came through with clothes they had available. Stuff planned to work after work for the gym, golfing, and dating. They willingly gave me those clothes.

I received a phone call. There was a family emergency. I needed to get somewhere that night. But my car was in the garage. A real-life friend from now, Ron, showed up. Turned out he was a co-worker. He asked me about my problem. “I’m going that way,” he said. “I can give you a ride.” We cemented arrangements.

I was so pleased. Then, chaos broke out at work. Problem after problem. While I worked to solve them, co-workers consistently came through with tools, insights, and helping hands.

The message I took away was, yes, life is messy and chaotic. But don’t worry. Others are there to help.

It was a message I really felt like I needed to hear.

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Sunda’s Theme Music

May 4, 2025, broke as a Sunda. Rain falling off in the night, blue sky and clouds mix it up in a friendly competition. Sunshine comes and goes with the clouds’ permission. The weather ‘they’ is hyping a high of 65 F, part of a warming trend for the week.

Dreams delivered today’s song. The dreams didn’t include the song. Disturbing as a loud animal roar in a coal-black night, the dreams had me scribbling details for well over an hour. Part of that was the phrase, “I’ve been thinking.” More usually followed. Now, though, The Neurons picked up the phrase, found where it belonged in a song, and rolled it for me. The result in the morning mental music stream was 1990’s song by Londonbeat, “I’ve Been Thinking About You”.

I’ve also been thinking about Mom. Her house is a mess without electricity. Day 5. She was convinced yesterday to go to my sister’s house and stay the night. Mom’s live-in boyfriend stayed at his daughter’s house. Taking care of her has been increasingly difficult for him. Her drugs and illnesses dull her mind and make her moody. She snaps at him. That’s worn thin. With her mobility lessening, he’s forced to carry her. She’s lost weight and doesn’t weigh more than a few birds these days. Still, weight is weight. Repetitive bending, lifting, and twisting is wearing out his 95-year-old body. Both have refused to leave her house and move into assisted living. But with her energy diminishing, his strength dropping, her senses dulling, and his eyesight and hearing worsening, will this be the straw that changes their mind?

We don’t know. More than anything, they’re independent and stubborn. I see so much of her in myself in these matters. Intellectually, I understand. Emotionally, it’s a far more complicated path.

My coffee is half gone. The cat has completed a few laps around the inside of the house. Now he’s gone to find sunshine. I want to do the same but I’ve planned a full agenda for myself. Who knows if I’ll stay with it.

I hope the best for you and your day, and us and our days. Deep breath; here we go. Cheers

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