Tag: eavesdropping

Tuesday’s Theme Music

The dice have been tossed. Rolling to a stop, they come up Tuesday, July 26, 2022.

106 F is today’s magic number for our valley. We hit 103.5 F yesterday. Only cooled to 22 C overnight. Already 24 C this morning.

The sun peeled back the night at 5:58 AM. Night will reclaim the valley upon the sun’s setting at 8:37 PM. Them’s the rules.

All this warm weather has the cats in an interesting zone. During the day, they staked out cool shade and slept. One took up the front door and the other guarded the back. This morning’s cool air turned the house into a grand prix circuit as the cats exercised some zoomies, accelerating down hallways, blasting around corners, obliterating toy mice and throw rugs encountered along the way. The FIA should check out it as a new race venue: the Clay Street Grand Prix. Seating will be limited so they’ll need to turn to television to keep their lofty revenues up.

Today’s music came from eavesdropping on two young women. I’d bet on them being twenty-somethings. One was encouraging the other in some enterprise and told her, “Your day will come.”

Well, The Neurons leaped right on that, popping “Our Day Will Come” into the mental music stream where it remained this morning. The original hit that I knew, from a year I couldn’t remember, was by Ruby and the Romantics. A 45’s label is burned into memory as it was loaded on a pink and gray little portable record machine. Where, who, when are blanks. Covers and other variations of the song were encountered throughout my life but I always enjoyed the one with the organ solo in the middle.

BTW, I just love that expression, “eavesdropping”. Hearing it conjures a person hanging upside down from eaves outside people’s windows.

Well, here we go. Stay safe, test negative, exercise some critical thinking, and remain positive. Coffee time now, before the heat becomes oppressive.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

I’m sitting on Friday, June 3, 2022. Also, sitting on my ass, and on a chair. at

First Friday of June. That means art walks around here. Wine tastings. The OSF Green Show on the Bricks.

Mild day for it. 70 is the expected high. 52 F now. Sixty percent chance of rain, and thunderstorms might come around. Sunrise was at 5:36 AM — a minute earlier — while sunset is at 8:42 PM, a minute later.

The cats are loving this weather. I opened the pet door, and they slip in and out. Eating, checking to ensure we’re not breaking any floof rules, and ensuring we’re still capable of opening cans and dispensing treats. They’re mostly sleeping outside. Papi had claimed the Boo spot and made it his own. But Tucker noticed. Guess who is now in the Boo spot? Yes, Tucker.

Today’s music was brought on by an overheard conversation. Someone said, “It happened right before my eyes.” They said this three times, using the same inflection and nuances each time. I wanted to know, “What happened before your eyes?” They never said in my hearing. Like they were deliberately withholding the info as a prank.

Hearing it, though, the neurons started humming, “Baby, What a Big Surprise” by Chicago from 1975. Within seconds, it went from a hum to the full-on song. It was still residing in my morning mental music stream.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get the vax as needed. Stay alert and aware. Have some coffee. I know I will. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Overheard Confession

“No one is putting anything up my ass. Sorry, no colonoscopy. This policy is traced to something done to me when I was a child. I don’t know the backstory but my auntie prevailed on my mother to give me an enema. Other than vowing to never let anything go up my ass ever again, I’ve blocked out all memory of it. I believe that Mom regretted it to her death. Whatever it was, whatever happened, I found the equipment in the hall closet, got a pair of scissors, and cut it all up. I was four years old.”

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Eavesdropping

You ever get sucked into listening to another group’s conversation – people that you don’t know, in a public place – and then they lean in and drop their voices, making it difficult to hear them? Doesn’t that just chap your nose? It chaps my nose because it puts me in a bind. I’m invested in their subject. I want to hear what’s going on. Asking them to speak up usually doesn’t work, and moving closer to them often interrupts the discussion.

Thank the flying spaghetti monster for the technology that lets me listen from a distance. Yes, I mean, bugs. You can just point and hear. Relatively inexpensive, they’re easily found on Amazon, are now so discreet that nobody ever notices.

The things I’m forced to do to satisfy my curiosity.

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Eavesdropping

Have you ever been eavesdropping on someone else’s conversation and want to join in? Are you a joiner? Do you insert yourself in their private conversation?

For me, it depends on the subject and the people’s emotional state. Their drunkenness and my drunkenness can contribute.

I probably join in others’ conversations about twenty-five percent of the time.

Today, although the others’ subject matter and comments fascinated me, I restrained myself.

I just posted about it.

9

Expansion

Don’t you love it when you’re writing a scene in your head, and you overhear some strangers’ conversation, and a word in it becomes a catalyst that accelerates and expands the scene you’re writing?

Oh, yeah.

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The Urge

You ever overhear someone talking, passing along erroneous information, and develop an itch to stop them and explain, “Excuse me, but, um…that’s not quite correct.”

Yeah, me, neither.

4

A Father Day’s Problem

Holding onto his son’s hand, he’s walking back toward the hotel, accompanying his steps with a constant explanation. “We’re just going to the the hotel because Daddy forgot something, and so — ”

The child is pointing back toward the car. Mom is back there. He’s saying something incomprehensible.

Daddy pauses in his speech and then begins again. “No,” the son shouts. “I want Mom. I want Mom.”

“I’ll give you a Skittle — ”

“I want Mom! I want Mom!”

” — if you — ”

Mom calls, “Honey, you want to come get in the car with Mom?”

Silence falls. Dad asks, “Do you want to get in the car with Mom?”

“Yes.”

Problem solved. I’ve been there.

As the child.

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