Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: spirited

The crescendo you might have heard earlier today was Tuesday, October 17, 2023, arriving. We’ve now passed half of the tenth month. Many are gearing up for the holiday season to launch.

It’s 53 F in Ashlandia, where the animals are feted and the people drink coffee all day. It feels curiously warm and pleasant. Forecasters expect our temperatures to crest at 71 F. We may see another degree or two at our house. Where and how we’re situated in relation to mountains and sunshine often results in a little more heat found in my space.

Beautiful out there, though, with stingy white clouds drifting through a strong azure sky and an invigorating sun.

A friend forwarded some humor to me. I plucked a few out for your morning jollies. They seem relatable to modern life and might distract us some from the wars and political messes swirling through October.

I’m feeling much better today. It’s been days since I’ve had any energy. This illness drained and wearied me, and became a stanch reminder of how often we don’t appreciate things until they’re gone. In my case, it was energy, willpower, clear thinking, and being pain free. I hope I never reach that state on a regular basis. So many people live like that with diseases and sickness. I saw it regularly when I visited Mom and witnessed her enduring and coping with multiple issues.

I also see it with my buddy, Larry, who lives on an oxygen bottle these days, Most painfully, I see it in my wife as she fights with flares of pain and stiffness delivered by her auto-immune issues. I took my own decent health too much for granted.

The Neurons have “Love Will Keep Us Together” looping in the morning mental music stream (Trademark flabbergasted). Although Neil Sedaka was co-writer and originally released it, I have the Captain and Tennille cover from 1973. As I said the last time I shared this song, back in 2018, it’s not my style but it was being played frequently on the radio stations where I lived, so I heard it all the time. I don’t know what prompted The Neurons to bring it out of the music vault but I fear I must play it for others or it will keep going around my head.

If you read a previous post this week, you might remember that my wife and I couldn’t remember what I thought I might buy Mom for her birthay. Well, one happy tidbit is that my wife pulled enough out for me to recall all the details. See, two brains are better than one.

The converasation was about genealogy. We were specifically talking about the Mayflower and William Brewster. Three of us are related to him via DNA. In my case, he would be my great-grandfather by ten. From that conversation, I thought buying Mom a gift to the General Society of Mayflower Descendants. I wonder if they shorten that to ‘the society’ or ‘the descendants’ in private conversations?

Stay positive, be strong, and keep optimistic. I’m up for coffee. Anyone else?

Here’s the music. Cheers

Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: unenthusiastic

Monday came in for me like a snail runnin’ the hundred meters. It’s October 16, 2023.

53 F now in Ashlandia, where the wine is local and the Pinot Noir is pretty damn good. An unrelenting, unhappy wind is assailing us under a dull gray sky. Rain is due. Fall is assuming its familiar form. Leaves changed color and now they’re dropping off trees, piling up again curbs and in yards, and zipping past windows on a zephyr motor.

Birthdays are pending. Cards and gifts must be purchased and sent. October is our family’s heaviest birthday month, with one past and eight due.

Mom’s birthday is one of them. I’m not sure what to get her. Sitting and conversing at Empty Bowls on Friday, someone mentioned something. I said, “Maybe I should get that for Mom for her birthday.”

Beside me, my wife brightned. “That’s a great idea.”

Neither can remember what ‘it’ was. We’re still working on pulling it out of memory. Sometimes it takes two minds to remember things. LOL.

Still sick. Stayed in from writing yesterday. Mostly read and napped, watched some NFL football.

Sore throat is gone; yea. Energy, though, is really tanked. Like someone siphoned it away. Headache was there and ears were hurting this morning. But I drank coffee to kick start my energy. Surprise, the head and ear pains fled. So hurray for coffee, once again.

Locking into my mood, The Neurons have positioned “Ridin’ the Storm Out” by REO Speedwagon into the morning mental music stream (Trademark ignored). The 1981 song emerged when I was stationed with the Air Force on Okinawa, Japan.

Okinawa is a narrow island and subject to typhoons/tropical cyclones. These were often endured with ‘Phoon Parties’. You tape over and board over the windows with what you can find. Then you raid the booze store on base and the Commissary to buy provisions. While the aircraft were evacuated, we prepared to survive a few days, possibly without electricity.

My wife and I were fortunate in our first three years. We had a tiny off-base apartment in a tiny apartment building. The landlords lived on the bottom floor, and a dozen US couples lived in the apartments. During a ‘phoon, we could visit each other via the inside hallways, so we’d play games like Uno, or Trivial Pursuit, or visit to chat and borrows stuff.

Time to light this Monday. Stay pos, be strong, and keep well. Here’s the music. More coffee, stat. Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: unenthusiastic

Sunday, 10/15/2023. 66 F now, 74 F later, sunny, bluish and grayish sky with some bleak, skulking clouds, blustery.

Based on symptoms and energy level, I apparently have a cold, which is shorting my energy. Guess it’s a cold: tired, scratchy eyes. Headache. Sore throat. Some sinus congestion. Good appetite, though. Sounds like a cold, doesn’t it?

Yes, it could be something else. This all started last week, on Wednesday. I tested negative for COVID yesterday.

In honor of my physical condition, The Neurons are playing the 1977 10cc song, “You’ve Got A Cold”, carrying it on in the afternoon after starting it in my morning mental music stream (Trademark strained). They may have tapped into something, right?

Stay positive and be strong. Here’s the video. Cheers

Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

He told his friends, “With all the recent smoke, I’ve added some things to my morning routine. Now I spray each nostril with saline spray, and then put eye drops in. I can’t help myself from thinking when I do, is this the smoke, or getting old, or functions and tissue breaking down?”

His friends replied in unison, “Yes.”

Monday’s Wandering Thoughts

First you must learn how the human body works in general, and what’s expected of it. Then you learn what your body can do, and its exceptions and variations. Then you’re often forced to understand how the body of those you love and support works differently. Few of us have a body that doesn’t come with quirks that split us away from being ‘average’, which becomes specially true as you age, because it changes again. What you could once do or eat is suddenly — and sometimes, dramatically — different.

Friday’s Wandering Thought

Tinted by smoke, the sun was a tangerine as noon rolled up. A short man walked through the warming, stifling day. Someone caught in middle age’s trenches, hard-edged in his slenderness, pale as a grub, bald as a newborn, walking fast. Unbelievable sight in this nasty air. White-grey ash collected on surfaces, dulling car polish, stinging nostrils with high magnitude burnt-wood flavors, usually encouraging tears, runny noses, sniffing, coughing.

But this guy walked down the sidewalk like the town’s proud owner, the only one out there, protected by sandals, a white tee-shirt, and light blue denim jeans. He also sucked on a cigarette and blew out his own smoke.

That might explain a lot.

Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

One of the strangest aspects of life in the United States that I’ve been reading about recently is that a growing segment of men aren’t wiping their asses after doing their business. Or they’re claiming that they’re not. Yes, it’s a strange thing to write about — a strange thing to think about — but it’s out there.

Let’s ponder what’s going on for a minute. Men consciously and deliberately decide, “I’m not going to wipe my rear. Or, “I’m going to tell others I don’t.”

Strange, strange, strange image to cultivate.

But their reasoning is that wiping your ass will make you gay. This is something that they say they claim. Bizarre. Seriously, WTF is wrong with them? Have they lost their minds?

Don’t believe me, then do a search. Go on Reddit. Read the complaints. The insanity is out there, and it’s documented.

Tuesday’s Wandering Thought

Most of us view ourselves as younger than we are. Just a trick of psychology. I can see, then, how disturbing using a cane or walker because you’re now elderly and need it can severely disrupt your self-image.

Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

Monday found me helping my wife deliver food to elderly, incapacitated, and disabled people, part of a community effort. Someone does it everyday Monday through Friday. Meals are provided for weekends and holidays on request as part of the system.

We were delivering six frozen meals to a new person on the route. We were instructed to call him first, to let him know we were on the way. He came out of his house as we pulled into his driveway. Obese, on oxygen, in a wheelchair, he looked about fifty years old, at least ten years younger than me.

Sad and shocked, I wondered about the circumstances of luck, genetics, work, and habits that brought the guy to that point. Most of life seems like a lottery, and the health lottery seems like the cruelest and most random of all.

Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

It’s amazing. When he was a kid, he usually had two pairs of shoes, known as his ‘good’ shoes and his play shoes. Good shoes were also known as ‘dress-up’ shoes and ‘nice’ shoes. Play shoes became gym shoes and good shoes became school shoes. Dress shoes were added into the mix.

This trio — gym, or ‘tennis’ shoes, as they grew to be called — school shoes, dress shoes — were the status quo for years. A second pair of school shoes was added, along with cleated shoes for sports.

During his military years, he stayed with the triumvirate of shoes for his personal life. Gym shoes were still tennis shoes (though he didn’t play tennis), along with dress shoes and ‘jeans’ shoes. He began playing racquetball, so racquetball shoes were added to the mix. So were sandals. Then running shoes joined the shoe group. Military requirements dictated three more pairs of shoes: low-quarters (which were a super-shiny version of dress shoes), chukka boots, and combat (or paratrooper) boots. So it mostly stayed for his military career, except slippers were added through Christmas presents, and jungle boots and desert boots were added to fit his mission needs. The three pairs of military footwear were now five, because they’d done away with the chukkas.

Civilian life post military retirement brought on more shoe requirements. Aging helped. And shoe marketing. Now he added beach shoes, boating shoes, hiking shoes, walking shoes, and several pairs of ‘jeans’ shoes, also now called ‘casual’ shoes. There were work shoes, so he looked the role in the ‘business casual’ environment, but the military shoes were gone.

Going into marketing added more shoes to go with suits. Brown, gray, and black shoes were needed. He still had running and hiking shoes, along with walking shoes, jeans shoes, and casual work shoes. He was wearing cargo shorts frequently, and needed shoes to go with those. Moving from a pleasant year round clime to a snowy and wet environment brought up needs for wet weather and cold weather shoes.

Now he’s come to retirement. The suit shoes sit in boxes on shelves, but the rest have become so complex and numerous. He purged his shoes regularly, giving them away. His feet had widened and his feet’s needs had changed through the years, and that dictated changes as well.

Like so many other things, it’d become so very, very complicated. He wished for the days again when he had just two pairs of shoes. Given how life goes, he figured that circle would complete itself when he grew older.

Next: socks.

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