Tag: funk

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Papi’s sour expression talked down the weather change. Colder at night, he’s happier in a comfortable shadow on a hot day. I feel him. Yesterday’s temperature rocketed up to 98 F at our place, then drooped to 54 F overnight. With have blue skies and sunshine but shifting angles have us yielding to cold mountain air at night. 72 F now, it’s wonderful outside. Delightful place to visit with a ginger floof and a cuppa coffee to soak up sunshine. But it’ll peg the mid 90s before the Earth’s curve cuts off our sun supply. Then the mid fifties will take over, temp wise. Politically, we’ll keep dropping until we’re in the early 1800s.

This is Wenzda, September 24, 2025. If you thought the Dementor in Chief’s power would be waning by now, you’d be half right. It’s waning, but he doesn’t know it. As always, he’ll be the last to know.

The Neurons were working as dreams were ending. While I dismantled the dreams and picked through the pieces for whys and whats, The Neurons cranked up “1999” by Prince in the morning mental music stream. I laughed at that. Clever Neurons. Back in the 1980s when Prince wrote this beat, he was proposing a party for 1999 because that was to be end of an era. All this was based on a Nostradamus prophecy. After 1999 came dystopia.

Then the 2000s began. The hanging chad Florida voting fiasco. Gore v. Bush. 9/11. Global War on Terror. Attacks on Afghanistan. Iraq. Then, Trump, and Trump again. Tearing into basic fundamentals of our nation. National Guard units are being deployed to opposition cities based on Trumped Reality. Aided by the Supreme Court, it’s now okay to discriminate on the basis of skin color to arrest and deport people — without due process because the man ordering it is now above the law — but it’s bad to adjust for shortcomings to advance people in employment, culture, and education based on their skin color. “Free speech for me but not for thee” is a growing Trump thing as he shuts down even complaints against him, let alone protests.

So, thinking on it, a quarter century after 1999, we should party like it’s 1999. Because we were culturally, socially, and politically more advanced back then, and going in the right direction. Now, as polls will tell you, we’re veering into an ugly, ugly place. It’s the wrong direction. And Trump the Disuniter isn’t going to do anything but make it worse and accelerate the decline.

I bet Trump’s BFF, Jeffrey Epstein, his running partner of that earlier era, would also agree, things are going to crap.

Have coffee, will function. Hope peace and grace climb out of their graves and finds us all. May it begin today. Cheers

0

Saturda’s Theme Music

If we’re rockin’ and rollin’, it must be Saturda. Well, according to the calendar, even if you’re not rockin’ and rollin’, it’s still Saturda.

Sunshine flashes some spirit but we’re mostly under cover of long stretched waves of gray-topped white clouds. Will it rain? Wouldn’t you like to know… Temperature is 42 F. We came close to edging into 60 yesterday. Weird experiencing that much warmth and sunshine for such sustained exposure. Dressed in jeans, shirt, and light jacket, sweat peppered me as I walked around on household business. Nice to have, as this is our expected average for the year. But it’s been so sorely absent that we have to re-adjust to it.

This being February 22, 2025, we expect a high today of 55 F. It’ll be partly sunny and partly cloudy. Rain is expected this afternoon. The wind has punched up, reminding me of that expression about March coming in like a lion. Papi the ginger blade (aka Butter Butt) doesn’t like the wind, mewhining, “Let meeee iiiiinnnnnnnn.”

Today The Neurons have offered a musical suggestion on behalf of Trump supporters. “Use Me” by Bill Withers, from 1972, inhabits the morning mental music stream.

But my answer, yeah to all that use me stuff
I want to spread the news
That if it feels this good getting used
You just keep on using me
Until you use me up
Until you use me up

h/t AZLyrics.com

I approached coffee with an offer that was eagerly accepted. Now the two of us are almost like one. Hope you have a day worth remembering for all the good reasons. Cheers

0

Wenzda’s Theme Music

This Wenzda, February 19, 2025, is being rinsed off. Yes, it’s 43 F and rain is falling. Papi the ginger blade, aka Meep, Butter Butt and Butter Booger, has chosen to ensconce himself on the living room sofa, not far from the fireplace’s steady warmth. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) remains under the weather and is staying on a bed under the influence of antibiotics. He’s showing a slow but steady recovery. Fingers and toes remain interwoven, as in crossing.

I’m running late due to tending the cat but also because today’s lymphedema massage therapy appointment is at high noon. So I’m ’bout to bust out the door. I bathed with a wash cloth and then did my self-massaging and moisturing, but then washed my hair. A hope is lit that I’ll be done with the thick wraps today. That’s because I’ve shown steady improvement, and the swelling has drastically declined. My efforts certaintly contributed but she added some thicker padding at several locations, and I noticed a dramatic impact from that. Although the wraps only remain on my lower right limb and foot, I can’t properly bathe while working them. I’m aching for a solid, warm shower, you know?

The Neurons have a weird song playing in my head. Not a weird song, sorry; it’s an excellent song, emblamatic of an era and attitude. But why today? That is the question. The song in question plowing my morning mental music stream is “Super Bad” from 1970 by James Brown. Nothing to do with dreams, cats, weather, food, coffee, or news. So what the heck, right?

Love all the different dance moves of the period the young dancer employs.

Quick reminder. Friday, Feb. 28, 2025, is a planned day of boycott. Hope you’ll participate. We are. The more the merrier. While it’s targeted on corporations which rolled back DEI policies under PINO Trusk’s encouragement, like Amazon, Target, Best Buy, PBS, NPR, Coca Cola, Pepsico, McDonald’s, Starbucks, and more. Costco is one of the few major corporations which stood firm against DEI changes. Share the news. Make it real. It begins at 00:01 AM on Feb 28th and ends at 11:59 PM.

I approached coffee with an offer and it accepted, so I’m blissfully in a cup. Hope your day delivers for you. Time to funk out. Cheers

0

Thurzda’s Theme Music

A stiff wind was rockin’ us last night in Ashlandia. As night came on shift, I watched our outside temperature drop to 34 F and then rise to 37 F. Rain fell and the temperature kept sneaking up outside as the wind barked at the moving branchs and howled at the sky. It’s not 41 F. ‘They’ have notified us that 51 F is possible as a high. The wind has skipped into a more mellow mood, sunshine has found a place in the sky, and all seems momentarily well on this day, Thurzda, Feb. 13, 2025.

Snow remains out there in force but its presence is shrinking. Bushes and trees continue their recovery. Fallen branches and trees around the city are being collected, cut up, moved away. If a bit more snow can melt off the piles lining the roads, we’re almost be back to normal.

Many are commenting on the bizarro Oval Office presentation by PINO Trusk. The elected half sat in a chair doing nothing and little vacuous. The other paced and made claims about finding and eliminating fraud. He made wild claims but stayed with the GOTP M.O. of offering no evidence or facts to back the claims. Looked like a Banana Republic Production to me. Paul Krugman did a nice take down of it in a post titled, Elon Musk Is Faking It.

Bet you saw the news that the GOTP wants to raise the debt ceiling for PINO Trusk. One reason given for the need for more debt is that ICE is running low on funds. Wow, who would’ve predicted that, right? Well, just ’bout anybody with the wits to realize the enormous costs involved with Trusk’s deportation plans. As seen on TV, the GOTP and their Project 2025 planners are purty damn witless, in addition to being lawless.

The Neurons jumped back to 1974 to find a tune to honor PINO Trusk. With all of his claims, he’s done nothing provable in quest of slaying fraud, as he claims; he’s only made us more vulnerable as a nation, broke laws and undermined justice, broke promises made to his MAGAts (see inflation and the cost of eggs), and sowed disorder and chaos on a national scale.

Stevie Wonder was found to have provided a song for the times. He called it, “You Haven’t Done Nothin'”.

We are amazed but not amused
By all the things you say that you’ll do
Though much concerned but not involved
With decisions that are made by you

But we are sick and tired of hearing your song
Telling how you are gonna change right from wrong
‘Cause if you really want to hear our views
“You haven’t done nothing”!

It’s not too cool to be ridiculed
But you brought this upon yourself
The world is tired of pacifiers
We want the truth and nothing else

And we are sick and tired of hearing your song
Telling how you are gonna change right from wrong
‘Cause if you really want to hear our views
“You haven’t done nothing”!

h/t to AZLyrics.com

I chugged some coffee earlier and I’m pretty well ready to go. Hope you have the plum-est of days imaginable, or some reasonable facsimile thereof. Let’s go get it. Cheers

4

Sunda’s Theme Music

Sunda, February 2, 2025, arrived in Ashlandia as inviting as a gray, wet mop. Sunshine feels like an alien life form. 35 F, the thermometer says the air temp is, and ‘they’ tell me that the temperature will punch up to 36 F. Light snow is falling.

Kind of light snow is falling. Sometimes, it’s rain, sometimes it’s sleet. A position can’t be staked and claimed for the local weather. Reactions on NextDoor about the weather are frequently amusing about this. “The forecast is for rain. Or snow! Maybe we’ll get zero inches, maybe we’ll get 88! Who knows?!!!” I can imagine someone looking a little wild-eyed and giggling to themselves typing this up. But she has aptly captured the general flow of thoughts.

Part of all this is elevation. Ashland is built on a series of southern mountain slopes. Weather changes are experienced as you slipslide up and down. Our house resides around 2100 feet. Looking up the street, where elevation increases a few hundred more, snow is visible lining roofs.

A winter storm warning is out for our area, so ‘they’ think it’s gonna be something. The rest of us are giving the forecast a jaundiced ‘we’ll see’ gaze. It is good soup weather. Soup, with hot buttered bread, as been conditioned into me. Mom had a practice of dishing out soup on days like this. Campbell’s had advertising campaigns predicated on the need. My wife is also out of that school. Her eyes and expression gain a little light as she states the idea, “This looks like a good soup day.” Best of all on a day like this, with trouble in the news — I haven’t looked but this is now the Trump era, and that’s all there is since he’s been installed as POTUS — would be a big bowl of Mom’s chili. She had an awesome recipe, and I could eat that stuff eight days a week.

Today’s theme music emerges from more conversations with my wife. A lifelong feminist who took on the ideology that everyone is born with equal rights regardless of anything else at an early age, the Trump’s administration to break the world and shove us back into the 1800s has her GRRRRRRR cranked up to eleven. The match point from the convos is that Trump respects nothing. We suspect that he doesn’t even have much self-respect; although he blusters about how great it is, his statements ring with a desperate need to be believed. That’s why he lieks his rallies, where the gullibles line up to worship him as he needs.

The other portion of these talks is that Elon Musk doesn’t respect the Trumpet at all. Being genuinely more intelligent, craven, and cruel, Musk is eagerly taking advantage of Trump to plunder the United States, with eyes on plundering the world. He has no respect for anyone but himself.

All these talking about respect invited The Neurons to pulled up a song from my teen years and dropped it into the moring mental music stream. “Respect Yourself” begins with the lyrics, “If you disrespect everbody that you run into, how in the world do you think anybody’s gonna respect you?” Trump thinks he can get respect by bullying everyone; he’s convinced himself that’s how it works, and his sycophants feed him a steady diet of ‘you got that right, sir’, so he never hears — or learns — otherwise. So this 1971 tune by The Staple Singers is dedicated to Trump and the Grand Ol’ Trump Party as they go about disrespected all others. No one is gonna give you respect in return.

Beyond the sentiments of the song, I love the funkiness dropped by the electric piano and bass. What a sweet sound. With its beat and vocals, it’s an excellent song to sing along with as you dance around the house. Feel free to turn it up loud.

Coffee has suggested that I have a cup. I didn’t want to be rude, so I agreed. And off we go, into the gray and white yonder. Look, it’s raining again. Or is that snow?

Cheers

0

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Goodbut

I remain on the carousel, counting days up and counting days down. So many days left in the year, so many days left till the election, the trials, the starts and ends.

I’m sitting on Tuesday, April 30, 2024. A mass of clouds, gray and big as an elephant herd, is sitting on our valley. The thermometer is sitting on 46 F. Sunshine comes and goes as clouds coalesce, shrink, and move on. We will reach 57, the weather folks declare.

“Totally unacceptable,” Papi declares, going out, and then returning. How can he do his rounds and ensure the yard is safe under these conditions? Tucker, older and wiser, eats, washes, shrugs off the weather, and joins us in the office. He settles into his bed and is so slumbering.

With Tucker’s health improving, he’s gained weight and energy. He’s also rediscovered his singing voice. He was a mezzafloofprano this morning, belting out arias for food and attention. It’s very endearing to see.

Thinking about the news, chatting with my significant other about it, we get into the ‘yeah-buts’. Yeah-buts dominate life. A situation is summarized. Or a question is asked. Etc. Then the yeah-buts arrive.

Like Hamas, Gaza, and Israel. They did this. Yeah-but the Hamas did that.

The SCOTUS said this. Yeah-but the Constitution says that. Yeah-but Alito.Yeah-but Roberts and his legacy concerns.

The weather is this. Yeah-but.

POTUS polls say this. Yeah-but Allan Lichtman says that. Yeah-but the polls. Yeah-but the trials. Yeah-but the economy. Yeah-but the Supreme Court. Yeah-but Clarence Thomas. Yeah-but Mike Johnson. Yeah-but the GOP resignations and infighting. Yeah-but.

Yeah-but enough for now. The yeah-buts are overflowing in my mind. I’m counting up and counting down.

Back in the kitchen, I went into the coffee-producing segment of my morning. BTW, my mind asks, why is it called a ‘kitchen’? A detour is made to research its roots. The usual suspects are involved: Latin, Old English, Middle English.

Okay, back to making coffee in the kitchen, where my mind sings, “For the love of coffee.” This is sung to the O’Jays’s song, “For the Love of Money”. Gleefully, The Neurons strike up the 1974 song in the morning mental music stream (Trademark brewing). I sing my version, “For the love of coffee,” and dance. Tucker watches with judgmental soicism. Papi heads to the door and yells for his release.

Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue 2024. The coffee is upon me. Here’s the O’Jays. Cheers

0

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: crotchety

Another foggy and sunny Oregon aunter day in Ashlandia, where the people are liberal. Well, mostly. It’s complicated. Of course. Everything is complicated in the information age in the modern United States.

It’s Saturday, December 9, 2023. We’re rolling through the upper thirties to low forties, depending upon which part of town you’re in, and whether it’s sunny there. My home’s overnight low was 28 F. The cats stayed in. Didn’t even complain about it. Just got themselves cosy and slept the night away, except for litter box breaks and kibble bowl visits. Reminds me, I need to clean the litter box and refill the kibble bowls.

Our high today will crest the mid 50s F.

Can’t stomach the news today. I start reading about Ken Paxton, AG of Texas and his efforts to stop a woman’s abortion and just want to puke. So much is wrapped up and on full display about Republican ‘values’. Doctors are behind the medically recommended abortion; Republicans are pushing their ‘religious beliefs’ to stop it, this in a country which is purported to advance freedom from religion. This s the death panel that they used to threaten would happen under ACA, the ones which never did happen. It’s typical of Republicans to project this way.

Remember, please, this is the party of small government. Limited government. Government that shouldn’t be in people’s bedroom. Right. Sure. That’s all more GOP smoke. Nothing they do is really about small government; it’s about control and power.

Like the Zieglers of Florida. They project in the same way. She, Bridget, is busy with Moms for Liberty, banning books, worrying about what these books she wants banned will do to children’s morality. In parallel to this bullshit, this morally upright Republican christian was having an affair with a woman. Actually part of a three-way with the woman and her husband. Her business, yes, except her business is directly contradictory to her political stands, causes, and ‘principles’. By the way, show me where in the bible they extol it says threeways are okay. Christ on a penny, this is who christians look up to for leadership?

All this exploded onto news pages because her husband, Christian Ziegler, is accused of raping the woman in the three-way. He is of course, the GOP party leader. Makes perfect sense. While innocent until proven guilty of the rape, this paragon of Republican virtue does admit to the threesome. There is video but that means little to the GOP; all that video of Jan 6, and Republicans claim those folks threatening their elected officials, breaking into our capitol building, smearing feces on the walls, threatening the police, and stealing things are just tourists. Or they’re really antifa or BLM. Anyone except Republicans.

See why I want to puke after perusing the news?

For the theme music, The Neurons have launched “War” with “Low Rider” from 1975 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark torpedoed). I honestly searched for why they plugged in this funk tune. I enjoy the song and haven’t heard it in a while. But why, after eating oatmeal with nuts and cranberries, drinking some coffee, feeding the cats, and reading the news, is that song going on? I can’t see a direct correlation.

Could have something to do with a general mood of mine, an overstretching sense of optimism that runs contrary to so much evidence. The mood, when I pause to feel through it, takes me back to when I was young and just starting out, and that is where this song was released. Maybe my mind is tuning into the radio of my youth. I can see myself in my old little ’68 Camaro, driving home from work in the Command Post in Fairborn, Ohio, back home to my girlfriend, who become my wife later that year. Nice scene to remember.

Be strong and positive, and lean waaayyy forward, right? I’ve had some coffee and I’m eager to tackle some matters that need tackling. Here’s the video. Cheers

0

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: contentious

Forty and foggy for Friday in Ashlandia, the weather mothers proclaimed. I saw no fog but forty F did come around. Even with forty and sunshine, les chats were all for coming in where the furnace warmed us and staying in.

It’s November 17, 2023, and the countdown toward holidays in the US and the year’s end is heating up even as our temperatures go down. We’re in the midst of a hot streak, and our high will be 62 F.

Now, I gotta tell you, I’m tired of a lot of things going on not just in the United States, but the entired world. War is one of them, mass shootings and killings with automatic weapons is another, along with climate deniers, and ‘cultural warriors’ who baked issues with women’s rights (abortion choice), teaching children critical race theory (doesn’t happen), GOP gerrymandering, and pulling rights out from under LGBTQIA+ people, just to scare and divide people. I’m tired of people trampling others’ rights, religions and freedoms because they’re claim in strident tones that they’re being persecuted. I’m tired of people who don’t like a book banning it to keep others from reading it. I’m tired of Evangelicals and White Supremacists and antisemetics all trying to pose as something other than the haters and evils that they are. Tired of media and pundits pretending that both sides are the same when talking about Democrats and Republicans as Republicans rise up to deny people equality and justice and burn the country down to get their way while Democrats fight to defend us and keep it all going. If you think they’re the same, you’re not paying attention, and I’m tired of people not paying attention, not applying some critical thinking, not doing research, not exercising their memories, not understanding their government, and trying to rewrite history. But mostly, I’m tired of damn Donald J. Trump and his whole tribe of lying, hypocritical supporters.

Out out of that, The Neurons fed “You Haven’t Done Nothin” by Stevie Wonder to my morning mental music stream (Trademark declared). It’s a solid theme song choice. This 1974 protest song was addressing another infamous Republican POTUS, Richard Nixon, you know, the one of Watergate, dirty tricks, and wiring taping fame. The one who resigned and was pardoned by his successor.

While written for the political environment and events of almost fifty years ago, this song is exactly what’s needed to address Trump and his stolen election lies and the many other facets of his re-election ‘campaign’, along with his constant insistent about how great he is, how he’s so incredibly fit when we can see that he’s not, what an amazing memory he is as he makes claims about things that never happened. I’m tired of the growing cancerous mass which he represents. Stevie Wonder could have written his song for Trump.

We are amazed but not amused
By all the things you say that you’ll do
Though much concerned but not involved
With decisions that are made by you

But we are sick and tired of hearing your song
Telling how you are gonna change right from wrong
‘Cause if you really want to hear our views
“You haven’t done nothing”!

It’s not too cool to be ridiculed
But you brought this upon yourself
The world is tired of pacifiers
We want the truth and nothing else

And we are sick and tired of hearing your song
Telling how you are gonna change right from wrong
‘Cause if you really want to hear our views
“You haven’t done nothing”!

h/t to AZLyrics.com

Stay positive, be strong, stand up for your rights, and lean forward for a better future. Here’s the music. Coffee is up, if you want some. Hey ho, let’s go. Cheers

0

Moanday’s Theme Music

6:37 Papi Standard Time. 22 degrees F. “Let me out,” the ginger floof bellows while prancing around on his tippy toes, tail up.

I walk along, explaining to the walls that it’s 22 degrees outside, too cold for Papi to go outside, but I open the door for him. Papi steps up, looks out, takes a breath, steps back. “Let’s try the front door,” Papi suggests. We do, just to satisfy him. Open-step up-breath-back in. “That’s not what I want,” Papi says. “Feed me.”

I feed him, along with Tucker, who is a savvy fellow and saw where this was going. Then I’m back to bed. See, I went through this once four hours earlier with Papi. Except he went out that time. Stayed out for almost twenty minutes before hammering the door for re-entry. He blasted through the house when I opened the door, living up to his nom de floof, Thunderpaws.

I, of course, went to the bathroom. My bladder said, since you’re up. Sure. Somewhere in there, The Neurons began singing “Lucretia MacEvil”.

Hello, Monday.

It’s January 30, 2023. 9 AM now, the temperatures has climbed the heights to 27 F. Other than the cold, it’s a fine sunny day, complete with blue sky, and frost free, too. Sunrise came at 7:26 AM and the turning away will remove sunshine from our visible range at 5:23 PM.

“Lucretia MacEvil” is a funky, brass dominated song by Blood, Sweat, and Tears, released in 1970. I have no idea why it’s circulating the morning mental music stream. I’d dreamed, yes. Women were featured, yes. But the dreams and women were all pleasant. Who knows the ways of The Neurons? Not I.

The ‘MacEvil’ part of the song’s title always puts me in mind of McDonald’s, right? I say ‘MacEvil’ and I have that little Micky D theme song follow it. I figure it must be some kind of adult meal. It’s not on the menu and you must know the code word to order it. It’s only sold to adults, and you must provide ID. Totally worth it, though, I imagine.

I have my coffee. Countdown has commenced. We’ll soon have liftoff. Stay positive. Happy Moanday. Here’s the mood music. Cheers

2

Thursday’s Theme Music

“Out in the fog, the fog dancers begin moving. They only appear when it’s foggy. The thicker the fog, the more fog dancers there will be. They want humans to come out, walking in the fog, so the fog dancers can grab them and make them one of their own. If you become a fog dancer, you’ll dance for the rest of your life and never see sunlight again.

“That’s why I don’t go out in the fog.”

I don’t remember this, as I apparently did it on a whim, but my sisters insist that I told them this story when I was about twelve. My three youngest sisters said the fog terrified them for years. They said that I also said that adults know about this and that’s why they don’t go out into the fog. It worked well because Mom would always say, “Oh, I don’t like the fog,” and shiver whenever she looked out and saw fog.

As I said, the sisters claim that I told them this, and I don’t doubt them. Sounds like me. I think of it today because pretty deep fog is out there. Some trees and bushes look like fog dancers.

Remember the movie, The Fog? The sisters said that as soon as they heard of that movie, they remembered my tale.

It’s December 22, 2022. Just three days before the C holiday. And then, boom, the after Christmas shopping rush begins. It’s nutty.

36 F out there today, with timid sunshine squirming through the fog. S’posed to rain today. That’s the weather rumor. 49 F is to be our high before the sun peters out of the valley at 4:42 later today, just seven hours and five minutes after the sun kicked over the eastern mountains.

Got “Rockafeller Skank” by Fatboy Slim from 1988 occupies the morning mental music stream. I know exactly when The Neurons turned it on this morning. I’d raised the blinds, looked out and saw the fog. The Neurons responded to this by opening, “Right about now, the funk soul brother, check it out now, the funk soul brother.” Fog and funk. Sure, makes sense. I think The Neurons are losing it on some days, but I enjoy the song. Not many lyrics and easy to learn. I had a friend a few years after this song was released who always insisted, “That’s not really music.”

Stay positive and test negative.

2

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑