Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: humordacious

It’s the first Thursday in September, the fifth day of the month in the common era year of 2024.

We awoke to chilly night air but guess what? Today’s projected high will be another 30 degrees above this current 70 degrees F temp, leveling out at 102. The air quality is not bad at 52 according to airnow.gov.

The light on these days where the temperatures enter triple digits always seems stronger and brighter to me in the AM. I don’t know if that’s a psychological thing for me or if there’s an actual meteorological explanation.

A local fire polluted us and put us on high alert yesterday. Started at about 11 AM. Hot day but not a whole lot of wind. A fire broke out at Exit 11 on I-5. The southbound entrance to the Interstate, it’s a couple miles past the town’s southern boundary, about three miles from my house in Ashlandia.

The authorities responded fast. Some early evacuations were ordered because the wind was blowing northwest, which would push the fire toward one mountainous, isolated neighborhood. But the fire was contained within two hours and declared done after eleven acres went up.

My wife has been an energetic individual this week. She’s organized purchases of Harris – Walz bumper stickers and yard signs for her friends and fellow Harris – Walz supporters. They’ve also been buying Harris – Walz tee-shirts. My wife emphatically stated, “I want to publicize her support so people see how strong the blue wave is and feel more encouraged to add their support.”

I lost a bet. My healthcare system reached out to me and I have an appointment with an Ortho surgeon on September 26. I thought the appointment wouldn’t be for six weeks. I’m happy to have lost. I’d like something down about the foot/ankle, as it signals regular messages that all’s not well on my body’s southernmost regions. That’s how I look at it. My feet are my south, and my head is the north.

I read some posts and stories about Trump’s support among young men, especially when they’re white. Not real surprising to me. My wife has been fascinated by relationships between the sexes for years and updates me on what she reads and sees. One of the many facts she’s provided to me is that less men are pursuing higher education. More women are enrolling in college and universities these days. There’s fall out from that in several ways. One, men are increasingly less likely to land higher pay professional positions. Two, men are less educated, which makes them less attractive to women. That triggered the incel — involuntary celibat — movement among men, driving resentment and outright hatred toward women. Hence, young men are increasingly not dating women, not getting good jobs where women are succeeding, and feel resentful. Trump and Project 2025’s message speaks directly to them, that women need to be put back into place, at home, taking care of her family while the man brings home the bacon.

As women have said to that, we are not going back.

Today has The Neurons playing “Lola” by the Kinks in the morning mental music stream (Trademark muddled). The 1970 song infliltrated the stream after I read another’s blog. She wrote about “You Really Got Me” by the Kinks. The Neurons just started playing other Kinks songs. Then they settled into this terrific love song, “Lola”. The rest is history.

Stay real and be positive. Vote blue n 2024. Coffee has been sipped up. Here’s the music from over fifty years ago, about an encounter between a man and a man — at least, that’s what it might be.

Cheers

End of World Dreams

I’m covering two of my three end of world dreams from last night. First, these dreams had very dark settings. Most of the first one took place underground or at night.

Another aspect that fascinated me about the dreams was how it combined elements of my military career with my IBM employment. Trippy mind work going on there. And now, the dreams.

I was working for IBM and it wasn’t going well. Exhausted from working and trying to save our division, many of us were sleeping at work, going twenty-four hours to try to save it. But we’d run out of time and knew the division was going to be shut down. Worse, and more surreally, we realized that the world was ending. How and why it was ending, the dream never covered. But this was something I knew, and was continually in the back of my dream mind.

To start, I’d been sleeping on the floor in my work office. It’s totally dark. I have a few private possessions and clothing, and that’s it. Voices awaken me. I listen and recognize our division director dismally describing the situation: world ending, division ending, shutting down. We were hanging on to our jobs because it gave us some hope that something could be done to stop the end of the world. Now he’s saying, we failed.

His comments stir me into a restless fit. I pace, trying to brainstorm about what we can do. Crazy ideas emerge but nothing sensible. I want to go talk to him about it, so I dress and head out, tracking him down.

The office area is built on a rock-strewn coastline. I clamber over rocks to find the director. He vaguely knows me. I throw out some ideas and he thanks me but tells me, they’ve already shot down those ideas because we don’t have the resources. It’s all dark doom and gloom.

I wander into another section and find an unused office. Turns out, the IBM offices are built on top of an old military base. The office used to be a missile control center. Finding a key, I put it into a dusty receptacle and turn it.

From elsewhere, I hear alarmed chatter that there are lights on: a missile is firing. I’m horrified to discover that I’ve turned a key to launch a nuclear missile. I’m also shocked; apparently, this one was overlooked when the nukes were removed. I frantically attempt to turn back the key but fail. Finding the director and other people, I try to reassure them that the nuke won’t detonate because it wasn’t armed, but I’m not sure. I’m pretty certain that high explosive are in the warhead and will detonate. I speculate that could cause the nuke to go off.

I run out to watch it. The missile launches into the dark sky. Huge ocean waves are crashing into the buildings, tearing them down. Shouting warnings to others, I climb the slippery rocks and escape.

Time slips past. I’m now surviving with three other men in the remaining office complex. We walk around setting small fires to keep warm and looking for food. We’ve found a cache, so we’re not too worried. I’ve also found a radio and keep tuning it, attempting to pick up radio stations and get some news. I worry about some of the fires they’ve set because they’ve put them under wall calendars and posters, which are catching fire.

“So?” Others ask. “What’s going to happen? We’ll burn down the building? It’s the end of the world.” Although I understand what they’re saying, I’m thinking that they have a bad attitude about surviving.

We drift out of the building to find other survivors. We end up in an underground tunnel in a yellow taxi. I’m driving. The tunnel is dully lit with dim yellow lights. To proceed further, we need to stop at a toll gate. There are three lines. Two lines are hugely backed up. The third has no one waiting. We pull up to the gate for the third ine. I get out to talk to the gate attendant, a short, swarthy guy, and ask him, “Can we use this gate? We don’t have any money — “

He interrupts me by showing me a finger, wait. As this happens, a blond woman in a green skirt comes up and reminds the gate attendant that the gate we’re at is to only be used by VIPs and emergency personnel. She leaves and he turns to me and says, “Now you can.” I understand him to mean we can use it because she’s gone. I thank him and asks, “But how much does it cost?” He replies, “No charge.”

I awaken and think all that through. Falling back asleep, I have another dream about the end of the world. It’s burning, and I know it’s ending.

Another dream begins, and I’m with the other three men again. We’re just leaving the toll gate and enter a building. In there, we find some other people and plentiful supplies, including alcohol. We basically decide to drink and get drunk. Why not? The world is ending.

We’re sitting around drinking and hear the outer door open. Investigating, we find four woman entering. They tell us they were looking for someone to party with since the world is ending. We tell them that we have alcohol and invite them to join us. They agree, and men and women pair off.

My companion is a short, chubby woman. She and I begin making out but she becomes morose about the of the world and starts crying. I try consoling her with hugs and some positive statements but she goes on about how so many people are gone and it’ll all be over soon, which is why she and her friends were looking for someone to party with. She and I go back to the main room, where the others are also arriving. All have had the same situation, that the women are sad and crying. They live.

Dream end. I awoke and realized with surprise that it was part of the first dream because of the background situation, my companions, and the setting.

The Disasters Dream

Sunshine blazed down from a cloudless blue sky. I was arriving at a busy site ensconced in a valley’s flat green floor, either a fair or festival, I realized. Laughing and happy folks were everywhere. Waving to me, my wife and her sister called me over to their group, introducing me to others and then explaining in turns, “This is the Father Festival. You’ve never been to one? It’s put on every year. Free food, games, and prizes. There’s music and dancing later. Have a drink.”

Taking this in, I looked around and saw fathers of childhood friends and male teachers circulating, instructing, ordering. No, I’d never heard of this, but I participated.

Then, dream shift. The festival was nearing its end. A mountain hid the sun. Though the sky seemed clear, it was much suddenly much colder as shadows cloaked us and the light faded.

I’d been traveling and decided I wanted to change clothes. A group of us found a motel and got rooms. Entering one, I asked the others to leave the room so I could wash up and change. Talking and laughing forced me to raise my voice. “Will you all get out so I can change?” Laughing, mocking me, they finally acquiesced.

I found my long-sleeved blue shirt. That’s the one I wanted to wear. Just as I stepped toward the bathroom, the building shook. In another second, people yelled in shrill voices, “Earthquake.” Sirens rose.

A man broke into the room. “There’s a tsunami warning. We need to leave and get up the mountain.”

Dressing in my blue shirt as I left the room, I joined my wife, her sister, and a small group of people. “Come on, we need to go,” I said. “This way. We’re going up the mountain.”

We fell in with a queue of people also trying to get up the mountain. Peering ahead, I saw fire up on the mountain’s upper side. Pulling my group aside, I said, “It’s on fire up there. Come on. Follow me. This way. Don’t tell the others yet. There’s going to be a panic, and then getting away will be a problem.”

I led the rest along a narrow mountainside path that was going up. I heard them yelling behind us as they discovered the fire. People were re-directed to follow me.

Stinging black smoke descended down on us. Bending low, covering my mouth and nose with a mask, I told everyone else to do the same. We hurried on along the path.

Then I came up short as I rounded a curve. The quake had opened a wide and deep crevice, and our path was gone, along with a chunk of mountainside. There was nowhere to go but back, but back wasn’t safe because the fire was engulfing where we’d been.

Dream end.

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: bent

Ashlandia, where people wear athletic gear except for five people in suits. It’s 68 F under a haze blanket with expectations of 91 degrees F. Today is Saturday, August 26, 2023, the last Saturday of August as it stands. The month sped by like excited electrons. We’re coming soon to the part of the time experience where the month changes once again. Coming up fast is the moment where the year changes once again.

Smoke? Yeah, it’s out there, a wall encircling the city, waiting to encroach. Folks I speak with are much like me, can we get some smoke-free time again? More than a few hours, more than a day? Long enough to start feeling better about existence and breathe some fresh air and get a few things done?

And there are whole areas where the summer has been worse for them. Imagine being in places in Canada where they’ve endured it all summer. Criminy.

The Neurons took up an odd route for today’s theme music. Opening blinds, doors, windows this AM, on alert for the perverting smoke, seeing that it’s somewhat clear — only unhealthy air today, woo-hoo! — I said to myself, I says, leave before the smoke comes in. Well, Der Neurons turned that into the Artic Monkeys song from 2006, “Leave Before the Lights Come On”, faster than you can say “Lock him up!” Never saw the video before today but it was another intriguing vid tale. Hope you watch it.

Now it’s time for the coffee race. Grab your cup. Ready – go! Stay pos and be strong. Here’s the music, and away we go. Cheers

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: disconcerted

August 17, in the year of 2023, has graced us with Thursday, the after Lousy Wednesday and the day before Waiting Friday. It’s cooler, cloudier today in Ashlandia, where the workers are busy and the politicians are idle. We expect some storms of thunder, maybe rain, with 91 F as the designated stopping point for the day’s heat. 83 F right now, pretty comfortable, except the humidity is pressing in to make its point that rain could be coming.

Met with the beer gang last night, ten strong. Our first toast, breaking with standards, was to Fani Willis. She’s the Trump breaker indicting the former POTUS with some RICO brew that looks strong on paper and has gained some gushing reviews. First blush, it doesn’t look good for Trump and his gang of eighteen. These were the criminal masterminds trying to work an overthrow of the 2020 election, you know, the one Trump claims to have been stolen after he was soundly beaten. Refusing to bow to reality or lack of evidence, he’s kept on about it. My beer comrades are all looking forward to the moment when Fani Willis brings the wood.

You know Trump is concerned about this turn because he’s come out fast with multiple false claims. He says he has facts that will immediately exonerate him. Then he attacked Willis’ reputation by claiming that she had affairs (pretty laughable, coming from Trump and his shady history), while trying to undermine her role by spewing some lies about Atlanta having a record number of murders, suggesting it would be better use of the DA’s time to pursue murderers. Of course, all these things have been debunked, but since when are facts important in Trump World?

For music, I started singing “This Wheel’s on Fire” to myself yesterday while walking. Written by B. Dylan and Rick Danko, numerous entities have covered the song since its release, but I was singing The Band’s classic rendition, released last century. I think The Neurons’ inspiration was the walk to the brewery where we’d sip our beers. Bit smoky, spattering rain through ninety-nine degree heat, I wondered where the smoke originated, speculating about fires. Then the song started. Still remains in my morning mental music stream (Trademark worthy).

Alright, be strong, be informed, and stay positive. Time to rock Thursday so we can move on to Waiting Friday. Here’s the music. Cheers

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: sour

Saturday is being served in Ashlandia, where it’s warm and getting hot. Not 110 F hot, no, none of that crazy stuff here today, just 96 today, 100 tomorrow, 103 Monday, and so on for the week.

It’s August 12, 2023, and this is when the region usually heats up in the year, so we’re not surprised. We metaphorically hold our breath and cross our fingers that some wildfires don’t arise from the heat and dry conditions. We’re not special with this high hot so far as the US. Over in Texas, they’re in the hundreds all over the state. Northern California will lounge in low triple digit heat, as will parts of Nevada, southern California, and New Mexico. Of course, in Hawaii, they’re literally on fire in several areas. Then my sister sent me notice that a house in one of the neighborhoods not far from her in the Plum area outside Pittsburgh PA exploded and a house is on fire. You feel for the people of that neighborhood.

And then I went on and caught up on Ukraine news.

Reading the news and weather reports brought my spirits down. More killin’, of course, and lots of general craziness being reported out there. The Neurons delivered “Crazy On You” by Heart to the morning mental music stream (Trademark crazy). The song is a classic rock offering from waaay baaack in 1976. Wow, that’s a thought that momentarily makes me feel ancient.

Then I think, hey, 1976 wasn’t even fifty years ago, so it’s not really that long ago, right? Yes, the optimistic Neurons reply, bobbing their heads. Then I think, and isn’t it cool that this music style was discovered? Isn’t it terrific that we have so many talented people in the world? And, hey, we have the technology to bring these stuff to us across time, although this recording is of a performance Heart did just a few years ago.

But then I think, gosh, with the brains for such technology to be advanced, shouldn’t we be able to solve other problems?

How do you solve a problem like a human? Tech doesn’t seem to be the answer there.

Okay, let’s get on with the day. It’s not going to live itself. Stay pos and be strong. Coffee is available in the kitchen. I got enough in there for at least one other cup. Here’s the music. Cheers

Thursday’s Theme Music

Welcome back to Ashlandia, where the men are fit and the women are fitter.

It’s Thursday, July 20, 2023. In brief, it’s 69, clear but smoky, with a high in the upper 90s, depending on how much smoke rolls in. We’re in the yellow zone of the AQI’s spectrum about how healthy the air is. I’m trying to figure out whether this smoke is coming up from California or over from the Flat fire in Agnes, Oregon. Might be both.

Today’s music is “Tomorrow Never Knows” by the Beatles, 1966. When I first heard it as a teenager, I was ‘interested’ in its sounds. It was later, while reading the Tibetan Book of the Dead that the song grew more enticing. That took place during my mysticism exploration era, which roughly began when I was nineteen and stationed with the military in the Philippines, and lasted a few years. Never took LSD, but I was instructed in transcendental meditation and meditated each day for over a decade.

I haven’t heard this song in a long time, at least twenty years, I think. Came about today I think because Les Neurons caught me thinking about the beginning of different things. That brought about that long period of the song when Lennon is singing, “in the beginning, in the beginning.” Next thing I know, it’s playing in the morning mental music stream (trademark pretended).

Stay as positive and strong as you can. I can it can sometimes feel like work. Sometimes, it is work, I think. Hopefully, good will come to you from being positive, strong, and shall we add optimistic? I’ve had some coffee, so, sure, let’s through optimistic in there.

Okay, ready? Three…two…one…let’s begin with your mantra. Ooommm. Here’s the music. Cheers

A Better Dream

While yesterday morning’s dreams upset and depressed me, I found a dream from last night reassuring and energizing. My wife and I were driving in my old Chevy Camaro, a 1968 copper-hued RS with a black vinyl type, black stripes, and a sweet 327.

We were racing down a highway toward a project. The sun was in my eyes, so I constructed a hat with a pole sticking out from it and a small saucer on the end. I’d tilt and turn my head to use the saucer to protect my eyes. Something humorous was written on the saucer and on my hat, subject: beer, but I remember it not. When people read it in the dream, they laughed.

We reached our destination and parked. The project underway involved baking a ton of bread. We were volunteers, working with a local group. Another organization had loaned us their building for the day, a rambling, ramshackle school and industry combo. Built of bricks, following a form follows function straightforward style, inside was a maze of tiled halls and rooms. We found the folks we were working with and began producing bread. It was an odd process of holding small brown balls under a duct until the duct sucked it up. Somewhere/sometime after that, bread was made and delivered elsewhere in the building.

We were put on a break while they checked to see if we’d made our quota of bread. As we stood about and chatted, I spotted smoke coming out of the duct up by the ceiling. I pointed that out, and then flames appeared. A fire extinguisher was brought forward but we were waiting for someone to bring a ladder so we could reach the flames. Meanwhile, the flames were spreading, so I took the fire extinguisher and put out the flames. The guy arrived with the ladder, climbed up and gave it additional precautionary sprays.

We were still waiting for them to tell us we were done but my wife and I were bored and decided to leave. We ran down the halls like children, encountering grade-school children coming in to go to classes. Out into a hot, sunny day, we jumped into the Camaro and took off.

Construction was encountered. Don’t know exactly what was going on, but I kept going at a reduced speed over churned mud. A guy working a machine was met. He would work a little and I would drive a little. I finally reached my turn and pulled off. We were planning to have lunch. Children and cats were running around. I encountered an old teacher of mine. Wearing a red sweater and a skirt, she sat down on a green park bench and invited me to join her. I did, and she started asking me about NFL offensive linemen. I tried changing the subject and then my wife came up and told me we needed to go.

Dream end

Wednesday’s Theme Music

A small patch of blue sky threatens the fifty shades of gray above Ashlandia. Today is Wednesday, Feb 22, 2023. As Bill Withers sang, “Ain’t no sunshine.” There is daylight, coming to us since 6:57 this morning, illuminating the snow frozen across the ground. @ 33 F, the streets and walks are clear. The weather monitors note it feels like 33 F now, but we’ll punch 36 as a high before celestial mechanisms take our sunshine away at 5:52 PM.

For anyone tracking the stats at home, we’re into our final week of Feb, 2023. It’s the first final week of the second month of the year.

It’s warm in the house, thanks to all the connections which evolved through the centuries regarding gas and electricity, heat, walls, foundations, and roofs. Had the fireplace up last night. Thinking about fire prompted The Neurons to slot “Good Times Roll” by Jimmie Allen and Nelly from 2020 into the morning mental music stream. There’s a chorus line from the song about the good fire rolling. The song is an interesting sound, bit of country, bit of rock, a sound like something out of four decades past.

Stay pos. Make your midweek work for you. Give me so joe and I’ll get right on it. Here’s the music for your listening pleasure. Cheers

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