Tag: father-in-law

Sunda’s Theme Music

Well, it’s toasty out there. Step into the sunshine and toasty shifts to broil.

Yes, Sunda in Ashlandia is a hot space. 92 F now, a 98 F high will crisp us before the thermometer drops back to 65 tonight. Last night had us hanging at 80 F at 10:30 PM, which makes it a push to cool the house before the next heat cycle — I mean, day — begins. We will see some cooling on Wednesday, when the temperature sinks to 86 F.

The heat is expected. This is Jun 8, 2025. This is Ashlandia. Summer is coming.

Thinking about the heat pushed a faraway recollection of my father-in-law once saying to me, “It’s hettin’ up outside,” into my mind’s foreground. I laughed, and he responded, “What?” He passed away the year my wife and I returned from our tour of duty in 1991. And the memory of him saying “hettin’ up” was old by then.

Papi was a rambunctious floof this morning. He slept and chilled all day yesterday so his energy cup was brimming over. He was also apparently bored. Starting a little before 5 AM, he came in, jumped on the bed, and purred loudly at me, often tapping me awake or rubbing his little chin against my head or arm. I kept rising and feeding him. By by count, I fed him six times between 5:30 and 8 AM. And he chowed it all down.

Political heat is rising. Americans are reacting to Trump’s ICE raids. Resistance is rising. Americans don’t care for masked gunmen disappearing other Americans off the streets in snatch and grab ops. Getting particularly het up in Los Angeles. Resistant is rising and protests are planned. Numbers are stacking. So is irritation, as are TACO Regime counter measures. TACO has never been on for restraint and is always eager to rush to violence. It would’ve been more of a surprise if TACO called for restraint, but he rushed in 2,000 National Guard troops in a move that’s sure to escalate tensions and further divide the nation. That’s TACO, the Great Divider, bitchboi for billionaires everywhere.

Today’s song is a 2015 tune. Rachel Platten and David Bassett wrote the song and Rachel Platten performs it. “Fight Song” was written when Rachel Platten was at a low point, and sees the song as a vehicle for empowerment. Some sample lyrics for you:

This time this is my fight song
Take back my life song
Prove I’m alright song
My power’s turned on
Starting right now I’ll be strong
I’ll play my fight song
And I don’t really care
If nobody else believes
‘Cause I’ve still got
A lot of fight left in me

Losing friends and I’m chasing sleep
Everybody’s worried about me
In too deep they say I’m in too deep
And it’s been two years
I miss my home
But there’s a fire burning in my bones
I still believe, yeah I still believe

I wasn’t too surprised that The Neurons offered it to the morning mental music stream as I read news and analysis of the LA protests.

Feel free to raise a fist and sing along.

Coffee is at hand. It’s hot, cuz some, like me, like it hot. Coffee, I mean. Hope your day caps off a good weekend for you. Cheers

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Another Kind of Flying Dream

This was a different take on flying dreams. It’s actually a segment of a large dream sequence but this part had me smiling.

So the dream heavily featured my father- and mother-in-law. Both are deceased with my MIL passing a few years ago and FIL passing in 1991, shortly after his retirement at age 65. I had a good relationship with both.

They were young in this dream and their physiques reflected their younger selves. In this dream, there was a point where they announced to my wife and I, “We’re no longer driving. We’re going to fly everywhere from now on.”

O-kaaayyy. Their announcement left their daughter and I with multiple questions. How were they planning to do this? Jump on airplanes? And what did they mean when they said —

Well, even as we were wondering about these and other aspects, my in-laws produced am airplane. Think a small Cessna. Piper Cub. Single prop. High wings. Red and white. It was clear now that they intended to fly themselves. Which defied expectations. Neither had a pilot’s license when alive. Neither had even flown many times.

But, okay. There was an announcement then that we were going to the grocery store and they were flying us. My wife and I are in the airplane with them. We’re still discussing what’s planned and how this is possible but we take off. But I’m challenging my wife, how are they going to take us to a store? So many obstacles exist, right?

My wife and I are in the back. But we’re seated backwards, facing the rear. I turn around to see what’s going on and realize, they’re going to fly down the street. Below the overpass. Past the buildings, trees, and wires.

Holy shit!

The aircraft’s rotation, yaw, and pitch are all wrong. At one point, we’re between a set of telephone wires with the aircraft nose pointing straight up. My wife and I are giddy with laughter about the affair. But they’re calm and casual up front. The in-laws land the aircraft in the store parking lot. And park us between cars.

Segment end.

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A Fishing Dream

A friend was taking me fishing. I was ignorant about what to do. He was providing me gear, bait, and instruction.

First, we had to get there. He gave me instructions, but we were driving separate cars. Both were white. It then developed into a quasi-race. Oddly, as we drove, he would sometimes be beside me in his car, and sometimes I’d be beside him in his car, talking, even though we were in separate cars.

We arrived at a place but stayed there only a short period. Being there mostly seemed to amount to me walking around behind him. Both of us were carrying our gear (and wore fishing hats). Smiling people tried talking to my buddy, offering advice, or just wanting to exchange fishing insights, but he was abrupt and dismissive to everyone. After leaving there, we went down a four lane white concrete highway. Parking in a lot, we needed to cross to the other side. He made a comment, “We can do this whenever we want, there’s no time limits, and we’re not racing.” Then he went and crossed. After considering the situation – no traffic was coming – I followed.

We went into a long, low building. Sounds of running water filled the space. Rows of blue plastic seats were set up for fishing. No else seemed to be fishing. A young man had a stack of white things enclosed in clear plastic bags. He offered them to us as we went by. “No,” my friend said with barely a look.

The man called after us, “They’ll give you support.”

I was intrigued, so I stopped. “What kind of support?”

The man explained that they could support your back and shoulder, and held one up for me to see. My friend had kept going. He called back, “We don’t need support, we’re already sitting in chairs.” I thought that made sense, but the young man replied, “This will aid your comfort and remove some of the strain.”

My friend answered, “We don’t need them,” but I said, laughing, “Well, I might need them.” That’s where the dream ended.

The dream reminded me of my father-in-law, Jim. He passed in December, 1991. I met him before I met my wife, his daughter. He and my father were best friends at the time. Dad had been stationed in Germany before being reassigned to DESC in Ohio, which was supported by Wright-Patterson AFB outside Dayton, Ohio. Dad had been assigned there before and had supplemented his military pay by working part-time for Jim at a grocery store.

I met Jim through fishing. He instructed me in my early fishing efforts after I moved in with Dad. I enjoyed fishing with Jim, and will even say that I never enjoyed fishing as much as I did with Jim.

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