Take them in and grin, giggle, and guffaw at existence. I particularly enjoy the Presidential goals. True yet funny, it aptly encapsulates GOP goals and progress for most of the last forty years.
Floofthing
Floofthing (floofinition) – 1. Unexplained behavior and noises manifested by animals. First noted use in the early nineteenth century in the United States and North America.
In Use: “One of the most commonly witnessed floofthings is cats chattering (also frequently mentioned as chirping or twittering) when they see insects, birds, or rodents.”
2. Entertainment, bedding, spaces, feeding and medical devices, etc., set aside for animals’ use. First recorded use in the late twentieth century.
In Use: “Catios are trending upward as a floofthing, with homes adding catios as a place where their beloved floofurevers can safely go to outside enclosure and enjoy sunshine and fresh air.”
3. Assembly or court used in Floofmanic lands during the Middle Ages. Also known as a floofmoot in some regions, or a floofsembly. Used to peacefully settled disagreements and try floofs for breaking common laws. Origins: Floomania in the 800s, early Flooxon.
In Use: “Claw carvings found on ancient trees tell of Floofitus calling for ‘repfloofentation of all wyld floofs’ to join together to reduce mindless floofwar.”
Saturday’s Theme Music
Mood: Saturitis
Saturday, April 13, 2024, has emerged through timid sunshine and mild, sporadic showers. 51 F degrees now, the thermometer’s advance will end somewhere around 60 F. That’s life in April.
The cats and I were spoiled by that burst of warm sunshine, though. We want it, we cry. Papi the ginger warrior is particularly vocal about it. “Screw this wet stuff,” he cries. “Give me the shine.”
Tucker has magnificently recovered from his surgery. While still an old boy, north of 14 years old, we believe, his personality has re-asserted itself after bearing pain for several years. I’m sorry I didn’t help him sooner but I was really leery about having all of his teeth removed.
I’m feeling Saturitis today. It’s a blend of it being Saturday and the need/desire to get some work done that is also conflicting with the idea that it’s Saturday, let’s do something fun! Undermining the Saturitis mood is the weather, which doesn’t seem overly conducive to either end of the Saturitis spectrum.
Mom seems to be doing better. Hospitalized, enduring pain and discomfort, going through physical therapy. She said she’s there for another ten to fourteen days. Also said she’s doing alright. “The food is terrific.” That’s always welcomed. She had meatloaf with peas for lunch with banana cream pie for dessert.
An odd song was summoned to the morning mental music stream (Trademark showing) today. The Neurons somehow pulled up “Enola Gay” by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark (OMD).
This song was released in 1980. It’s about the Enola Gay, the American B29 Superfortress which dropped the atomic bomb, called ‘Little Boy’, on Hiroshima, Japan, in August, 1945.
I didn’t learn about the song until I was helping my wife with a Hiroshima/Nagasaki vigil she was setting up in conjunction with WILPF – Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom – around 2006. She asked to help brainstorm some music. I came across the anti-war song, “Enola Gay”. The techno-pop tune was rejected as too silly and lost to the standard American anti-war and pro-peace pop/rock offerings.
I don’t have good insights into why The Neurons brought “Enola Gay” forward today. Maybe they just confused April with August. Hard to say with them.
Okay, stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue. Coffee has found its way into my body. Here’s the music. Please give it a chance. Cheers
Thursday’s Theme Music
Mood: springflective
Thursday arrives with a whisper so soft, most miss it. It’s April 11, 2024.
Spring outside pulls me in. 51 F degrees. Still wind and expansive sunshine. The air is expected to bring temperatures in the low 70s.
Sounds of the city travel through the yard. Cars on the roads. A train warning of its advance. Hammering and sawing. No voices except crows, robins, and sparrows passing on observations. The cats listen. They don’t reveal what they’re thinking.
OJ Simpson passed from cancer, Alexa tells me when I ask her about why she’s lit green. My wife says, I don’t know what to think about that.
Truly. Simpson was once an American hero on the gridiron. First in college, then in the NFL, if those things matter to you. Otherwise, he was just another citizen. Then came the murders, the trial, the riots, the questions. It all hangs over us like a pause in existence.
In personal news, Mom is still coping at the hospital. The place was packed. After spending most of the day in a bed in a hallway, she was moved into an ER space for the night.
She’s being transferred today. They’re going to put her into rehab and work on her balance and mobility. She’s grumbling about it. A creature of habits, she gets uncomfortable being wrenched from her ruts. I know because I’m much like her.
As far as the fever and pain over the last several days, the med staff is postulating that this is just the after effects of her abdominal surgery. The surgery was five days ago, so my little sister on the spot has flagged it as dubious. But, that’s how it’ll be treated, going forward.
Thinking about our small town’s sounds later in the morning has The Neurons summoning songs about cities. Stevie Wonder’s music about living in the city whispers through the morning mental music stream (Trademark under construction). Then comes Billy Joel. 1982 “Allentown”.
Yes, more it’s more fitting. Billy Joel’s song was about hopes and changes. Substitute America for Allentown. Change some other words and you have a new anthem for the U.S.
“Well, we’re living here in the USA.
“And the way it’s changing is hard to say.
“Standing in lines, watching our phones.”
But the song’s real heart for me comes later when he addresses the promises made or implied by teachers that we would succeed and advance, “if we worked hard, if we behaved.” The promise was hijacked. I put it on corporate greed, but that’s fueled by individual greed, selfishness, and now, by a GOP that is trying hard to go back in time as a way forward.
Sorry, boys, but there’s not a DeLorean big enough to fit all of us to take us back in time and change now. The vast majority of us know that. We’re moved on. We’re moving forward, and we’re going to keep moving forward.
I don’t think of everything in terms of politics, BTW. May seem like it’s so but it’s more that this seems like a politically charged period for me and many others. I also look back through the lens of history to see what changed, how it changed, and what did not.
Stay positive, despite what has happened so far. The promises were made or implied that we’re part of a grand experiment in the US, creating a government by the people, for the people. It’s a work in progress. Other nations are doing it as well, and many have become better at it than we are now.
I’ve already boarded the coffee train. Here’s the music. Cheers
Worth Sharing
I’m pleased to share Annie’s recap of about Simon Rosenberg. “Hopium” Rosenberg’s insights into the 2024 polls — and why they’re wrong — make tremendous sense to me. Read and think about what his take, and you’ll see what I mean. Like these significant points:
Can you explain why? This goes back to the midterm congressional elections in 2022, as I recall?
“Yes. The argument I made then was threefold. One was that the Republicans did something unusual in 2022. Usually when a party loses elections, they run away from the politics that caused them to lose. And Republicans were running toward it. They were becoming ever more MAGA, even though MAGA had lost in 2018 and 2020.
“Second, that Biden was actually a good president, and we’d have a strong case to make. And third, there’s been this huge increase in citizen engagement in the Democratic Party. We’ve been raising crazy amounts of money and have an unprecedented number of volunteers because of the fear of MAGA”.
“We were stronger and better than was the conventional wisdom. The constant mistake everyone’s been making since the spring of 2022 has been the overestimating of their strength and the underestimating of ours. We went into Election Day with there being this huge belief that the Democrats were going to get killed. I believed those three things were going to allow us to do better than people expected in 2022. And I have that basic view now about 2024.“
I mean, shouldn’t we ask why what didn’t work in three previous elections will work in a fourth? No; three strikes; Trump is out.
Cheers
Wednesday’s Theme Music
Mood: Histalgic
Hello, fellow peepers. Today is Wednesday, April 2, 2024.
It’s raining again in Ashlandia. The temperature as dropped back into the forties. Oh, but that day, yesterday, when the temperatures resided in the upper 70s (Fahrenheit — could you imagine what it’d be like if it was 70 degrees Celsius?) was glorious and spirit lifting. I remind myself that the rain will help things grow and continue to nibble away at our drought problem. The rain is a good thing, as long as the rain is kept to a moderation.
The rain displeases my house floofs, Tucker and Papi. I released them to the backyard per their demands. The patio is covered, so they weren’t in danger of melting from the rain. And the rain imbued our air with a lovely, fresh scent. But when I opened the back door fifteen minutes later, they scurried right in and demanded treats, because it’s raining. They made a good case, so I treated them. Then I treated myself with a lemon scone to go with my coffee.
Today’s reading for me included coverage of Senator T. Tuberville. He’s an R out of Alabama, although he might be living in Florida. That’s okay, though; Alabama wrote its laws so people representing their people don’t need to live among the people they represent; they only need be a resident for a day. Seems sensible *snark*.
Sen. Tuberville was campaigning in Utah where he claimed that supernatural forces were undermining the United States. Was he talking about Jesus? Because I agree, those people saying they love and believe in Jesus but then do everything possible to be contrary to Jesus’s teachings are undermining our country. Some — not all — of these GOPers for Jesus stand against the whole ‘love thy brother thing,’ at least in words and actions, if not in thought.
But this is about AI. Artificial Intelligence. The Alarida Senator also claimed in his Utah speech to have visited all fifty states during his political life. Curious, I asked Bing AI — BAI — about it. BAI replied, “Yes, Senator Tommy Tuberville has indeed traveled to all 50 states during his political career. He made this claim while campaigning for an ally in Utah, emphasizing that he has been to both good and bad places across the country 1.”
Well, hey, BAI, I claim that I’ve been to the Moon and Mars. Does that make it true? That’s what I’m looking for, BAI. Actual evidence beyond a claim.
See, I don’t trust Tommy T. as a reliable source. He made claims before which didn’t hold up. See the things he said about his father’s military service. Or his foundation for veterans. Check the actual donations made after he declared every dime would go to Alabama vets.
In the end, I’m not overly worried about Sen. Tuberville’s declaration musings “supernatural forces” undermining our government. After all, he once declared the three branches of the US government to be “the House, the Senate, and executive.” I don’t believe he’d know a supernatural force if it bit him in the ass. The way he sometimes appears, I think they might be biting him in the ass. Then again, that could be Trump or one of his sycophants.
Today’s music comes by way of the news. I was thinking about the impact of state abortion laws which deny women the right to control their own health when it comes to pregnancy. The same laws handicap medical staff from helping women who are pregnant, in more than one state. For an example of one of the worst, see Texas.
Besides taking away women’s rights and insisting women carry fetuses to term, these states often do very little to help people their unwanted children are born.
With all that thinking scrambling The Neurons, I wasn’t too surprised when those Neurons posted “Love Child” to the morning mental music stream (Trademark unrealized). The 1968 song was another Motown gem. Performed by Diana Ross and the Supremes, the song lyrically relates the stigma of a girl born in poor circumstances, wearing rags or second-hand clothing, and having an unwed mother. They experience guilt; they feel scorn.
Now, she’s addressing the matter of sex for herself. What if she becomes pregnant? They might ‘end up hating the child they’re creating.‘ The song deftly shows the complexities suffered by someone who is an unwanted who is now forced to address that same situation. Abortion is never mentioned. For my sensibilities, it’s there, waiting to be discussed. Remember, Roe v. Wade didn’t happen until 1973, five years after “Love Child”. Abortions were often dangerous and frequently illegal, depending on the state.
Afternote: even in Texas, back in 1968, abortions were illegal, except when when necessary to save the mother’s life. Now the great Texas legislature has decided that the mother’s life is worthless if she’s pregnant; only the fetus matters now in Texas.
Well, I hope I got that all out of my system. Hope someone is still reading. Had to put it out there to understand what I think.
Remain positive, lean forward, and Vote Blue to put us back on track toward a nation and world where women have the right to control their own body again, and a place where another’s religion or privilege doesn’t dictate everyone else’s rights. Here’s the song. Let’s have a good one, shall we?
Cheers
Tuesday’s Theme Music
Mood: coffeetized
March 26, 2024 is a Tuesday. I mention it because it is upon us. Winter and spring heroics are vivdly displayed in a skybleau vivant of blue, gray, and white pieces. Rain was here yesterday and last night. Might it come again today? All signs point to ask again later. It’s 42 F. Sunshine is shimmering in around the clouds, alleviating the chill. 58. That’s what they say our high will be.
When I looked out at the mixed composition of clouds, The Neurons began “Cloud Nine” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark cloudy). I enjoy the 1968 song by The Temptations. It sets up a tempting tableau.
(Cloud 9) [Paul:] You can be what you wanna be.
(Cloud 9) [Dennis:] You ain’t got no responsibility.
(Cloud 9) [Eddie:] Every man, every man is free.
(Cloud 9) [Dennis:] You’re a million miles from reality
h/t to AZLyrics.com
The interplay by the singers and the upbeat tempo and optimistic lyrics made it a childhood favorite. Don’t mind it in the morning mental music stream at all.
When I was young, I wondered, “Why cloud nine?” What’s going on with clouds one through eight? Are there higher clouds? Like, number ten?
The first question was answered by a teacher. Sort of. He suggested that “Cloud Nine” was from Dante’s Paradiso. As a twelve-year-old, I’d never heard of it. An elderly neighbor later said it was about angels. In a meteorology class in the Air Force, a sergeant talked about the classifications of clouds, telling us that nine is the highest level of clouds.
While musing about it today, I found a neat little article on udiscovermusic.com covering these things. They also noted that it used to be cloud seven used as a euphoric state.
‘Indeed, improbable as it sounds, as far back as 1896, the first edition of the International Cloud Atlas defined ten types of cloud, of which the cumulonimbus, rising to 6.2 miles, was declared the highest that a cloud could be. In 1960, the Dictionary Of American Slang defined “cloud seven” – not nine – as meaning “in a euphoric state.”’
Despite all this, today’s edition of “Cloud Nine” is by Beach Bunny. It’s a 2020 TikTok hit and no at all like he 1968 beats. I like checking out TikTok to see what our young are tuning into and heard the song on there. I don’t recall when. But dialing up the song today on YouTube reminded me of it existence. So I’m playing it just to spite The Neurons. Yes, it’s petty.
I’ve read Beach Bunny’s song described as a ‘giddy love song’. With a quick beat and a breathless, sometimes abrupt delivery, that seems like an apt description for the quick little number.
Stay strong, be positive, lean forward, and vote blue if you’re’n the U.S. and a citizen, etc. Coffee has been served. French roast. Here’s Beach Bunny. Cheers
Sunday’s Theme Music
Mood: writcitement
TL/DR: It’s spring. Today’s song is “Why Worry” by Dire Straits. President Biden’s predecessor and current GOP candidate is enamored with dictators, promises a bloodbath if he doesn’t win, and thinks some humans “aren’t human”.
Hello, my traveling peers. It’s Sunday again, March 17 again, but adding the year, 2024, makes it a whole new date.
The average daily high for Ashland in March is 58 F degrees. We expect to hit 71 F. I think I’ll be higher.
I checked a local weather station’s temperature, along with the SOU (Southern Oregon University) weather station, and a web weather source. Here are our temp variations:
My house: (Clay Street, southern end, in early morning mountain shadows, 1836 feet elevation): 45.5 F
Wimer Street: (2 miles west of Clay Street, above downtown, 2050 feet elevation, in mountains): 46.2
SOU: (1.1 miles southwest of Clay Street, 1890 feet elevation, in sunshine by East Main Street): 42.1
MSN.com: 50 F.
Honestly, SOU’s elevation — 1890 feet — seems suspect to me. We descend to that location via a series of hills. For the record, Ashland’s official elevation is 1949 feet. We consider ourselves ‘the valley’, but the valley floor is a little bit lower than us. It’s a pinched and rolling place on this end of the Rogue Valley.
Whatever the temp, it’s a spring day out there, with colors along the spectrum breaking out all over the region.
Reading political news, it’s another head-rubbing, grrrr morning. We have the headline, “Trump warns of ‘bloodbath’ for auto industry and country if he loses the election”. He sounds desperate, resorting to such base threats, trying to induce fear in others.
Then there’s the story circulating about Trump’s other comments during a campaign speech. This is from an article on TheHill.com, but it’s in WaPo and others, too.
“I don’t know if you call them people,” he said at the rally. “In some cases they’re not people, in my opinion. But I’m not allowed to say that because the radical left says that’s a terrible thing to say.”
See, I am ‘the radical left’ because I think others are people. I base this on biology. Genetics. Not politics, religion, or circumstance. It doesn’t matter where they come from. Or how they reached our land. But in Donald J. Trump’s opinion, some people are not people. That’s just laying the foundation to treat other humans as less than human as justification for inhumane treatment.
Okay, class, can anyone name a fomer world leader and dictator who said things like that about other humans?
Up top of that, I read a USA Today opinion post. “Trump keeps praising dictators like Hitler and Kim Jong Un. Will Republicans ever care?” Sara Pequeño wrote it. After writing about Hitler’s record as a dictator who ordered millions to be killed, Ms Pequeño write, “There is no redemption arc for Hitler. We all agree on that, right?”
Well, no. I agree. However, a surprising chunk of Americans seem to disagree. People — and I was one — overlooked how many Americans backed Hitler before WWII and even during WWII. There are Americans among us who still back Hitler because they’re antisemites. They want someone to blame, and remain willing to claim Jews are causing them problems.
That’s one reason they like and support Trump. Trump isn’t bothered by Hitler’s record. His former chief of staff related that “Trump said Hitler did some good things.” That’s worrying for someone threatening bloodbaths if he doesn’t win, and chatting and joking about being a dictator on day one if he does win.
But what about the greater Republican party? I share Ms Pequeño concern, “Will Republicans ever care?” I’m concerned that many don’t know and don’t care because they’ve convinced themselves that Trump is something else, someone special to them. They write off the rest of us and our dire threats about Trump as the lies of outsiders who don’t see Trump as they do.
I agree, too, with Ms Pequeño’s final assertion: “So, everybody who is bothered by this, Republicans and Democrats alike, should keep pointing to his comments for the rest of this election. Then voters can ultimately decide if they support this or not.”
Today, The Neurons posted “Why Worry” by Dire Straits to the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). I know exactly what’s going on with me this soft 1985 song by Mark Knopfler.
I’m a worrier and regularly talk myself down. I recognize that the view I get of the world is skewed and imperfect, no matter how many sources I use. Many of those sources are political or commercial. Each uses buzzwords and headlines to gather attention. Some of them are just trying to rile me up or say things to help their revenue streams. So, while I will continue to worry and voice my thoughts about my worries, I’ll also try to talk myself down.
The cats are outside in the fenced backyard, loving the warm air and sunshine. I’m about to do the same. Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote. Hope your weather is to your approval at your place. Here’s the music. There’s the coffee. Let’s bring it all together. Cheers
Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts
I came across a plague in Ashlandia’s railroad district. The plaque identified the tree beside it as a slippery elm and announced that it had been the tree of the year.
The tree of the year is an annual tradition in our city. Stepping back, I admired its height and thick, expanding branches. Sunlight backlit them against blue sky.
I didn’t have a camera with me — yep, not even a phone — so I don’t have a photo of the plaque nor tree. I ran a search for a photo of it but nada emerged. I need to return to the scene with my phone, I guess.
Forty-seven years had passed since the tree had been honored. It still looked like it could be the tree of the year.
Thursday’s Theme Music
Mood: groovey
It’s March 14, 2024, and we’re swimming in blue skies and sunshine. It doesn’t make this a warm day — yet. The furnace is still running, dragging up the house’s internal temperature as the day recovers from its 33 F start in our area. 44 F is what the digital thermometer now reads. We expect its readings to climb over 61 today.
That’s why I like spring. I enjoy the shift from bareness and cold, or the white of snow and ice, to the brisk green sprouting, sunshine, and warmth. Summer is lovely but becomes cruel, overdoing it with heat intensity. Thunderstorms add a troublesome facet in the summer, lancing the hot dry land with lightning and sending fires across the fields and mountains and smoke through the sky. Spring is full of possibilities and growth. It feels like a season to relax.
I skimmed the news and marked things to go back and read in depth. Hopeful signs, suitable for spring, emerges along several trajectories. Nothing to get excited about — yet. They must play out. That’s the most difficult aspect of modern life for me. I’m given so much information to digest. It accumulates and shifts with the slow effort of tectonic plates until some resolutions emerge. Often takes years, though.
I occupy a mellow place this morning. Sensing that — they can be very observant — The Neurons lined the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) with Eric Clapton’s acoustic version of “Layla”. The initial rock version came out in 1970. Eric Clapton and his buddy, Duane Allman, playing behind the curtain called Derek and the Dominos. The accoustic version came about 22 years later, 1992. MTV was involved.
There’s a lot of personal behind this song for Clapton. George Harrison was his running buddy. They played for Delaney and Bonnie and Friends on the road. George was married to Pattie Boyd. Clapton fell in love with her. This song helped him express his suppressed feelings. A model, Boyd inspired George to write four songs about her while Clapton wrote three. She divorced Harrison in 1977 and married Clapton in 1979, divorcing him ten years later.
Stay strong, be positive, and lean forward. I’m leaning forward for my coffee cup at the moment, strategically placed right of my computer, but an arm’s length away. That leaves room for my black and white wonder floof, Tucker to get up here and supervise my ‘puter efforts without knocking my coffee over or getting fur into it. I’m very fond of not having fur in my coffee.
Here’s the music. Cheers
