Tag: history

Sunday’s Theme Music

Woo-hoo. Welcome to Sunday, September 12, 2021, National Video Games Day! Yes, today is set aside as a day of observance and remembrance to the video games we loved and played. Yeah. A popular social media device is to ask you what your favorite video game was a child. I think mine was Etch-A-Sketch. Does that qualify? I do remember when Pong came out and we all played it for about twenty minutes. Ah, the seventies. What a period for video games.

Sunrise was 6:44 AM today. Sunrise cometh at 7:27 PM as daylight hours accordion down. AQI is moderate, mid seventies, and the high today will be in the low 80s F here in Ashland, southern Oregon.

I’ve already dated myself with my video game recollections. So, nothing to lose. I awoke with “25 or 6 to4” by the Chicago Transit Authority playing in the mental music stream. Its emergence for here and now isn’t clear. What is clear is that it’s stuck and must be shared to be removed. Chicago later dropped the last two words of its name. Its style changed, too. But, that’s how it goes with music.

So here it is, from pre-Internet, pre-worldwide web, pre-video games. Why I listened to this song on vinyl. Then tape. Now I listen to it on digits. Remember, stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get the vax. Now go play a video game while I get coffee. Cheers

1

Saturday’s Theme Music

Welcome to Saturday, September 4, 2021. Here in Ashland, smoke veils a cloudy spread. We’ll probably see 80 F in our area. The sun arose at 6:39 AM. Pearlescent hues on the cats and walls. Sun fade will be at 7:40 PM. The window of daily sunshine is closing.

After a week of noisy news, my soul seems spent. People are enduring some hard times in the U.S. from coast to coast, Canada to Mexico. Fires and flooding, hurricanes and tornados. Lies and more lies. And, yeah, COVID-19. People who otherwise fasten their seat belts, go through security with shoes off, without water, passing through metal detectors, who otherwise agree that public safety and security are important now can’t wear a mask. Others remain vaccine hesitant. They have their reasons, we’re told, and shouldn’t be mean to them. Meanwhile, others still find time to be racist and cruel. Murders and abuse continue.

I sort of chuckle, though. I’m reading HIlary Mantel. The Mirror and the Light. About Thomas Cromwell and that period. England. Henry VIII. Anne Bolyn’s beheading. Henry’s other wives. Conflict with the Pope. Empires and kingdoms. Dukes and ladies. The church and the state. Wars. Among it all, the poor, the starving, the diseased. We are better off now. I think where my disappointment builds is that we could be so much better. We should be so much better. Guess I watched too much Star Trek as a child.

Muse filled my mental music stream with “Uprising” from 2009. Specific lyrics.

Another promise, another seed
Another packaged lie to keep us trapped in greed
And all the green belts wrapped around our minds
And endless red tape to keep the truth confined
(So come on)

[Chorus]
They will not force us
They will stop degrading us
They will not control us
We will be victorious

h/t to Genius.com

Anyway. Test negative. Stay positive. Wear a mask as needed. Get the vax. Please. Here’s the music. Enjoy your day. I’m gonna enjoy my coffee. Cheers

3

The Zombies Are Here

The zombies are here.

He wasn’t surprised. Not eating brains. Yet. No. Just a matter of time. Someone will probably tell them that eating brains will save them from the coronavirus or something. He wouldn’t put it past them.

He’d been expecting the zombies for a while. They’d quit thinking several years ago. Clearly were unthinking and undead, not caring about anything except themselves and the undermining of their so-called freedoms.

What else could they be but zombies? Living in such an alternative world, believing ridiculous conspiracy theories for which proof wasn’t offered. Well, okay, sometimes they tried to put up some ‘proof’ – or their idea of it – but then it was shot down. You know, like masks don’t work. Vaccines will magnetize you. The coronavirus is a hoax. No worse than the flu. There’s a secret child sex ring on Mars. Trump is still secretly POTUS. And take ivermectin for the virus that doesn’t exist, that’s no worse than the flu. Now they were trying to blame Biden for Afghanistan. Biden, who has been in office for seven months, who took office twenty years after the war in that poor country began.

Yep, the zombies are here.

0

Friday’s Theme Music

Today is Friday, August 27, 2021. Had some issues figuring out the day yesterday. Thought it was Wednesday. Had a Wednesday vibe. My wife’s comments abetted the Wednesday vibe. But it cleared up. I’m flying right now. Because, you know, it’s important what day of the week it is…isn’t it? Well, that’s how I was raised. Chores, school, vacations, holidays, work, it’s all built on the calendar.

Sunrise was at 6:31 AM. Sunset will come at 7:53 PM. Temperatures will range into the low 80s F today. They claim that our air quality is good today – first time it’s hit that mark in weeks – but the looks and smell don’t align with a good reading. I kept the kitties in and the doors and windows closed.

I’ve been thinking about the 1900s today. Started with wars. Progressed to a pandemic. Then the dust bowl struck. Obliterated millions of acres and displaced families. Thinking of all of that due to comparisons with now. The 2000s. Started with war. Then COVID-19 struck. Half of the western U.S. is suffering drought and fire. (Might be a little hyperbole there.) Thousands are being displaced.

Also been thinking about the Rolling Stones. Of course. Watts, their drummer, passed away. Long life. I think he would say he had a good one. Better than many, for sure. His passing has prompted me to listen to Stones music. A universe of Stone songs are out there. I’ve used many favorites as theme music already. What to do? How ’bout “Living in A Ghost Town” from last year. Fits the general mood. Smoke casts a ghostly pall over my world. COVID-19 lockdowns and smoke slash unhealthy air forces cancellations. Businesses are closed or hours are reduced. Activity slumbers. Why not, right?

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, get the vax, celebrate life, remember that it’s Friday. Time for coffee. Enjoy the music. Cheers

0

Tuesday’s Theme Music

On the Oregon coast for today, Tuesday, August 17, 2021. Sunrise was at 6:20 AM. Sunset is at 8:09 PM.

Cool, here. Rained this morning. Ahhh. Rain and coffee. Is there a song for that? We expect a high of 64 degrees F. Brilliant, walking along in the cool, fresh air, going to a coffee shop in the early hours while the sun is still clearing its eyes behind a bank of clouds. Going into a funky coffee shop. Fantastic art by local artists on the walls. Fresh coffee. Fresh pastries. Fortunate to enjoy such things.

Back home, the woman staying in our house and taking care of the three amigos told us the smoke blew away after we left town. Yes, we’re taking it personally. The heat dome wandered on. Temperatures dropped by twenty degrees. Yes, we’re taking it personally.

Talking with friends about their lives, medicines, treatments, and ailments. Friend visited Pompei back in the mid seventies. I’m listening to the Bangles’ cover of “Hazy Shade of Winter” in my head. You know, “Time, time, time, see what you’ve done to me. While I looked around for my possibilities. I was so hard to please. Look around. Leaves are brown. And the sky is a hazy shade of winter.” It’s another terrific Simon & Garfunkel composition. Paul and Art released the original in 1966. The Bangles did their bang up in 1987. Here I am, thirty plus years later, listening via technology’s assistance. Do you have a preference between these two versions, or another?

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, get the vax. Here’s the music. Cheers

0

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Today is Tuesday, know what that means? Means it’s May 18, 2021. Your reality may vary.

Sol pulled out over the hills and sluggishly beamed into the valley where Ashland is nestled at about 5:47 AM. His visit is expected to last until about 8:28 PM, when we’ll wave farewell and watch him set off for the rest of his daily visits. It’s never ending for that guy. He just keeps going and going…

Sol’s arrival was sluggish because surly clouds, puffed up and thick as steroid-infused weightlifters, wouldn’t make room. Some rain could be in our day, fingers crossed. ‘Too dry’ is how I’d label this spring. Temperatures will tug onto the lower seventies, maybe just the high sixties, depending.

Historically, Mount St. Helens blew on this day back in 1980. I just read it, otherwise it would’ve blown right past me. The old volcano had been threatening for a few months. When it finally blew, it made major headline news. We just don’t experience many volcanos erupting in the continental United States.

I was in the Randolph AFB Command Post at the time (in the Taj Mahal, under the water tower — yes, it’s true), and called the commander with the information when the volcano finally erupted. My wife and I lived in base housing with two cats, P.K. and Roary, watching cable TV on a big Magnavox console. We were getting ready to leave and head to Okinawa on assignment. Our car was a metallic copper Pontiac Firebird, the first new car we ever bought.

Dredging up music, I came up with Pink Floyd The Wall and Billy Joel. “It’s Still Rock and Roll to Me” was a big song at that point. Billy Joel was on a roll, pumping out albums and hits, and in the news because of his successful roll. I’m going with it because of its sentimental connections with who I was when. “Hot funk, cool punk, even it it’s old junk, it’s still rock and roll to me.” We can add a few more genres now, can’t we? It’s still rock and roll.

Stay positive, test negative, adjust your mask wearing as appropriate, and get the vax. Also encourage your friends and relatives to get the vax. Here’s the music. I’m gonna get coffee. Be right back. Ta

0

Thoughts

I spent over twenty years in the military, 1974 to 1995. The Cold War was underway. The U.S. and U.S.S.R. and the allies of each were constantly ready to fight a war. Stationed in Germany for several years, we used to practice wearing our hazmat suits and gas masks, taking shelter as we were attacked. I did the same during war games in Korea and Egypt.

Wearing the suits and masks wasn’t fun. That experience rendered it much easier to wear masks during the pandemic. These masks over our mouths, attached to our ears, are much easier to wear.

I’ve just finished reading The Splendid and the Vile. This book by Erik Larson covers Winston Churchill’s first year as Prime Minister. World War II had begun six months before. The London Blitz began that first year, 1940. The tales of deprivation are stunning. Larson uses multiple sources to weave a narrative not just about Churchill, England, and the Blitz, but about Hitler, Goering, Goebbels, Hess, FDR, and the many people around Churchill coping with him, helping Churchill, and hunting for the way forward.

Imagine those times in the United Kingdom as bombers flew overhead through the night skies, dropping incendiary devices, and then bombs, feeling the ground shake with violence as buildings were shredded and people were killed. Imagine being one of those people in London and other cities, enduring as food and tea was rationed, gas, electric, and water services were interrupted, fighting fires, worrying about unexploded bombs if you survived the raid, then going to work. Imagine sleeping in air raid shelters in squalid conditions. Imagine the black-out demands where lights were left off, forcing all to stumble through darkness.

And so many here, in 2021, complain about social distancing. They won’t wear a mask, because fake news. Freedom.

They know nothing. They should have been in London or any of the other cities around the world that experienced these conditions. Then maybe they’d realize what sacrifice means. A mask? Six feet apart?

Really. It is nothing.

Wear the mask. Stay positive. Test negative. Get the vax.

0

Friday’s Theme Music

Today is January 22, 2021. Sunrise is 7:33 AM and sunset is 5:13 PM in Ashland, Oregon, moving us closer to ten hours of sunlit. Our temperature is 37 F. Choppy layers of clouds, like pieces of clothing being sorted and stretched, are moving as the weather finds itself. A storm is shyly crowding in. We might have snow next week. We’ll definitely have colder weather.

Hammerin’ Hank Aaron passed away. Hammerin’ Hank broke Babe Ruth’s MLB home run record in 1974. I graduated high school and joined the military that year, so that’s childhood’s end for me.

When I think of my childhood, Hank Aaron and baseball were a large part of it, almost as big as music and politics. Music was defined by its growing presence on television and the increasing number of festivals and stadium shows. Other things from that era include the Doomsday Clock and the chance of the U.S. and U.S.S.R. using nukes, the Vietnam War and the peace talks, Watergate, student protests and riots in the 1960s, the oil embargo and gas shortages, and the explosive spread of cable television. Reasoner, Smith, Rather, Brinkley, and Hunt gave us the news at night. We were sending rockets with men in them to the moon and talking about the future of computers where everyone would have one in their home. The EPA had been created and the ERA was still a possibility, acronyms which were regularly discussed in school and on talk show panels.

It’s nice having President Biden in the White House. Nice not waking up to see what madness Biden’s predecessor was saying. Been a while since I read about a Karen employing privilege to insult and attack others. Coincidence? No.

Today’s song comes after another busy dream night. In one dream, I and others sometimes say, “There she goes,” in response to someone we’re looking for. In the course of thinking about that dream and phrase, the LA’s 1991 song, “There She Goes”, jumped into the thoughts. I guess my mind thought that would be helpful. It wasn’t.

Anyway, “There She Goes” is a strange song to me. It feels and sounds like something that should have been a hit in the early seventies or late sixties due its simple structure and sound. It’s also a brief song, under three minutes. Growing up with pop/rock, songs on the radio were typically three to four minutes long, so this song is ending just when you expect it to explode with something more. It doesn’t, leaving me asking, “Was that it?”

Here we go. Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get vaccinated. Cheers

0

Tuesday’s Trivia

Politics and books took over my bandwidth last week.

  1. Books are such time thieves. Writing them takes time, energy, and attention. With energy, I’m referring to intellectual, emotional, and physical energy. The effort absorbs everything. Don’t know if that’s true for other writers, but this is how it is for me.
  2. Reading books also sucks away time and energy. I read a C.J. Sanson novel last week, Tombland. Tombland isn’t a small novel, registering at eight hundred packed pages. The latest in the Matthew Shardlake series, like the other novels, I was compelled to read, almost as if I’d been cursed. The mystery is relatively thin but that is incidental to the history, period, and characters. His voice is authentic, and the characters are alive and shifting. You feel it all.
  3. But reading that book meant I was doing almost nothing else. It was that consuming. I was also trying to read it to return it to the library. It was due 10/22, but I had other books on hold. My wife also had library books to return (The Plover, and The House in the Cerulean Sea). (She’d read Tombland before me.) So I was pushing to finish to turn the books in, limiting our library visits and its potential COVID-19 exposure. They do a good job at the library, but exposure is exposure, right? Right. After returning Tombland, I returned home and had an email from the library system: they’d extended Tombland for me. Nice of them but unnecessary.
  4. I recommend Tombland. This particular novel swirled around murders in Norfolk in 1549. Somerset was the Lord Protector for the young king. It being England and that era, politics around rights for the common people the Kett Rebellion, differences in the church (Protestants vs. Catholics), power struggles among lords and ladies (including Edward’s sisters), and enclosures – fencing off common land that set aside for animal crazy. All the sinister and cynical conniving among the wealthy to increase their power and wealth, and their attitude toward the lower classes, and the subservience expected from the upper classes strikes amazing similarities to what’s happening in the United States in this century.
  5. Tombland was a fresh reminder of what England endured and how they prevailed and developed as a democracy. Turmoil and bloodshed are occurring in the U.S., but not at the levels seen in England at that time. I want to add, yet. It may come to that.
  6. The monstrous poverty and homelessness of the era also brought out sharp comparisons to here and now in America. It provided rich fodder for heavy thinking.
  7. Of course, reading a book that I enjoy helps inform the novel that I’m writing. Nothing I read made me want to tear up my manuscript (or delete it) or start anew. It did inspire nuances and new flavors to fold into the blend, and of course, fuel up the need to sit down and write.
  8. The skunk and I (and my wife) continue our non-violent confrontation. I don’t want the skunk to go under the house to live; the skunk wants to. I’m not a violent person, and love animals. Watching the skunk (and studying it through the window as it emerges at night) gives more appreciation to who it is. Yet, I know it’s damaging our foundation, insulation, and weather barrier. I empathize with the little critter, though. It’s a tough life out there, and it’s only trying to exist as I’m trying to exist. It certainly has the same rights as me.
  9. I blame some of my sympathy to the skunk to the Netflix documentary, My Octopus Teacher. A wonderful love story, it revealed standard details the octopus and its tough existence. Naturally, after watching it, I transferred the octopus’ struggles to ‘my’ skunk. There is a difference between the octopus and skunk: the octopus isn’t invading ‘my’ territory. Anyone can argue, the skunks were there first, and that I’m the trespasser. I know; that doesn’t make my job dealing with the skunk any easier.
0

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑