Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: spirited

T’was the day before Christmas and all across the land

few people were thinking that everything was grand

those with money to spend had brought presents to no end

while those lacking food and shelter did what they could do

Yes, today is Sunday, December 24, 2023, the day before Christmas in the US. Light rain intermittently douses us in wintery 43 F temps under a dystopian dim sun stuck behind the clouds. It’s today’s high, already achieved, so we have that going for us in Ashlandia, where the Christmas decorations are average and the Kwanza and Hannukah celebrations are muted.

I found myself with the Red Hot Chili Pepper’s 2006 cover of Stevie Wonder’s “Higher Ground” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark gifted). Those first lyrics that include soldiers keep on warrin’ was in my mind during this holiday month, when so many people talk about peace on Earth and goodwill toward man while doing the opposite so often. Few walk the talk. They’re just depressin’ damn people, especially the faux christians who have emerged.

Let’s just call them faustians, which is really similiar to faustian, isn’t it? Interesting; those faustians (faux christians) focus on themselves, complaining about how overlooked and put upon they are, which, in their words, is terrible because they have the best religion and god. Meanwhile, faustian is an adjective to describe things often done for present gain without any thought about the future, which is exactly what the faustians (faux christians) do; they want to go back to some faux good ol’ days when women knew their place and it was in the house, and there were only two genders and one sexual orientation – male on female – and men were in charge, and all bad things like racism, bigotry, and discrimination were all swept into places where it couldn’t be seen. They didn’t want to hear about women being raped (because they probably deserved it anyway, in their minds, because of how they dressed or acted). Nor did they want to know about people born with a mix of gene sets that creates a spectrum of true and viable genders. God only created two genders, darn it, and science is bad because it teaches otherwise, so don’t trust it.

Factories were in America and all things were made in America, because it was and is and always will be the greatest nation in the world (because, god), and the houses were all the same clean cottages behind fine white picket fences, except for the wealthy but noble and pious people who lived in mansions on the hill, away from the riff raff. To achieve their goals, faustians will lie and pretend their leaders are wonderful people, overlooking or even rationalizing their crimes, and go to war to make peace, because they believe in god, and that makes everything that they do okay. Diversity is not good in the faustian world. Nor is critical thinking.

Anyway, that’s why I’m playing “Higher Ground”.

Stay pos, be strong, and keep leaning forward toward a higher ground. Coffee drinking is underway. Here’s the music. Cheers

Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: unproductive

Monday cometh, cloaked as December 18, 2023. I’m starting to plan some holiday purchases.

Winter painted the morning sky lazy grays and thickly mottled white. Will it rain, even snow, was being mentioned around town everywhere. At 52 F, snow didn’t seem likely but as some of winter’s sky work darkened, rain possibilities seemed to be inching up.

Meanwhile, heavy winds are playing with us. I watched a large fir tree across the street madly swirling, waving its branches like an angry MAGA at a rally. No other trees were moving, so I was thinking, “WTF? Why is that tree moving while no others do anything?” Must be a haunted tree, I decided. Then it went still. I watched for a demon or sumpin’ to emerge. Instead, all the other friggin’ trees started waving at the same time. Like watching a home crowd cheering a touchdown. Then it stopped again. I decided I needed to have coffee before watching more. Coffee helps me make sanity out of the insane, or pretend that I don’t care.

Wind is still going but the sky has disrobed the clouds. Sunshine spreads itself over the pavement and buildings. The temperature is up to 53 F.

In the ‘I don’t care’ side of things, I had to tell myself that I don’t care that GOP darling Ron DeSantis, Lord Destructor of Floriduh, says dumb shit. I almost gagged on the latest dumb shit as he declared that liberals allow abortions after birth, aka ‘post-birth abortions’.

WTF does that mean, the interviewer didn’t ask Ron. Can you tell me where this happens, Ron, the interviewer also didn’t ask. Wouldn’t that be murder, Governor, also wasn’t asked. Talking about it with my wife, she informed me that this is a standard GOP talking point. I looked it up and Politifact confirmed, yes, this is something Republicans regularly mention, and no, there’s not truth to it. Would’ve been nice to have the interviewer pursue the truth while they had DeInsanis in front of them, but no, that sort of journalism is rarely practiced in ‘Merica. Don’t want any snowflakes meltin’ on TV, no sir.

No wonder the United States is going to shit when GOP ‘leaders’ say such ignorant and foul ideas and don’t get challenged by the media. No wonder so many voters are ignorant and blind. The media deserves a huge fucking chunk of blame.

Musically, my wife mentioned a song to me the other day, to wit, Miley Cyrus singing her version of “Santa Baby” with some feminist lyrics about not needing Santa to bring her things. The Neurons took it up in the morning mental music stream (Trademark given away), and now I can’t get it out of my head, so here it is for your listening and viewing entertainment. Ho, ho, ho.

Stay pos, be strong, lean forward into the wind, and press on with pride. Coffee has been poured into me and I’m now firing on six out of eight cylinders. Hopefully, more hot caffeine juice will push the other two cylinders to start firing, and then all eight of them will get into rhythm, right? Yes, hopefully.

Oh, look, the sun is gone, the clouds have returned, and it’s raining. Here’s the video. Cheers

Sunday’s Wandering Thought

I like being proactive and getting ahead of things for the holidays, so I went ahead and gained my holiday weight.

That’s just one less thing for me to worry about.

Sunday’s Wandering Thoughts

Someone said, “I’ve been watching Hallmark Christmas movies. I watched three yesterday.”

Surprise went through me. Had I missed Halloween and Thanksgiving? I replied, “What month is this?”

Another said, “We put up and decorated our first Christmas tree. We usually put up two, one in the living room window, and a larger one in the family room. That’s the one we put up.”

I was staring out at the sunshine and leaves. Many were still on trees, their chlorophyll declining, losing their green colors, letting other colors emerge. Autumn, in other words.

As others continued talking about their Christmas-themed activities, I thought, I’m really out of touch.

I’m still celebrating autumn.

Friday’s Theme Music

Launch the Mark V!

Today is Friday, May 26, 2023. Friday before Memorial Day in the US. This year’s Ashlandia weather has been set up for a fun weekend. 68 F now, no clouds to scuff the blue sky. We’re looking at some low 80 F highs for the period.

Many folks around the nation will employ the Friday Mark V. Features of the Mark V includes a four-day weekend, cook-outs, and general games and partying. Memorial Day is a Monday holiday, as established by law in the Uniform Monday Holiday Act of 1968. Gives many people at least a three-day weekend. Employees often invoke a three and a half day weekend, taking off from work early.

People are still working though. Restaurants, hospitals, emergency services, military, hospitality and travel industries. And sales. Memorial Day always invokes some kind of sales extravaganza. The opportunities used to be blasted over the radio and television airways. Cars, furniture, mattresses, lawn equipment.

Let me note, though, my wife’s family always treated as a solemn period. No cook-out or grilling, nor drinking and partying. They drove to the cemetery to pay respects to the passed and put flowers on their graves.

Not us. Mom always pushed for a big holiday for this one. Lotta food. Fried chicken, burgers, hotdogs, complemented by potato salad and chips, finished up homemade pies. We usually attempted to go to some park for the day, and my favorite memories involve Keystone Lake in Pennsylvania. We’d leave at dawn so we could get good parking and the best spot. Then we’d haul our food and gear across the land like some great pioneering family. Chairs, blankets, umbrellas, food, beer, sodas, Kool-aide, gloves and balls, frisbees and other games, radio, utensils and plates. Directed by Mom, I would run ahead to find the best spot and claim it, as if the park wasn’t almost empty at that point. Oh, we had such good times.

But sometimes, we stayed home, cooking out in the back yard, playing games there. Fun, too, you know? That was mostly done on Laurie Drive in Penn Hills, before things began unravelling.

Those were the years I was finding rock and roll. One of my early favorites were Steppenwolf with “Born to be Wild” from 1968.

Stay pos. Whether it’s a holiday for you or not, I wish upon you a great day. Not all days can be great but we can still try.

Here’s the tune. Dial up the volume and wake up the wayback machine and sing along.

Sunday’s Theme Music

Warmish and foggy, kind of cool, too. It’s Christmas day in southern Oregon.

Dawn dashed in under the fog’s cover at 7:38 in the morning. I fed the cats and we prepared food to take to our friend’s house for Christmas brunch. Sipping coffee, I looked out the kitchen window. The fog was hurrying away. Sunshine struck the valley’s southern edge, lighting the trees and the blue sky.

I thought about all the matters which have gone well for me and pushed that aside. Homelessness plagues our small town. All those people were out there, looking for places to get warm, to be safe, to rest their bones and minds. I helped a few this week but it never feels like enough. Never. It’s a pattern encountered across the nation, one of the most powerful societies the world has ever seen.

I thought about the misery of people in other states hanging on as snow and ice storms undercut their infrastructures and cut their power. I thought about the military forces battling for arcane logic in Ukraine and the people trying to help one another to stay alive there. Then I thought about all the wealth hung onto by our world’s most fortunate families, individuals, corporations, wondering if they’re the most deserving, and how the sperm lottery affects our existences. I’m flattened often by stories of the wealthy do the most that they can to stay wealthy and make more money. Work harder, others are told. It’s just that easy.

Just Christmas reflections, little different than my recurring daily thoughts. Not original, but worn and tired.

My music today has nothing to do with the holidays. The song came out of dreams and efforts, weariness but hope. Called, “Turn It On Again”, the song is by Genesis. Released in 1980, the song is about a man whose friends are the people on TV.

Have a merry one. Happy holidays to you, whatever your flavor of seasonal celebrating as the common era year slides to an end. Hope you’re warm and safe, with a belly full of food.

Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

Sunshine casts its web over the valley. Highlighted by a blue sky, shadow places are hard with white frost under the green pines and naked annuals.

It’s 21 F out but warming, which we’ll do until petering out at 42 F. The sun’s valley march commenced at 7:34 in the morning and though the march is ever going, our view of it will fade away beginning at 4:41, when curvature and action eliminates our view and negates the sun’s effects. Then we’ll endure the cold night and the whole cycle continues tomorrow.

This is Sunday, December 18, 2022. Time to do your next to last Sunday of the month cleaning, shopping, and celebrating. I don’t recognize the next to last Sunday, myself. Disguised as just another day, it slinks past my unwitting senses and drifts into the past.

We attended a Christmas concert yesterday. Friends play in the orchestra so we support them and buy a ticket and attend. It’s a fun time. They have only four concerts a year, not for the seasons, but for holidays of the seasons. Next will be the Spring Concert, though, just to toss a spanner into it.

As the oboe played its note and the others matched it to ensure they’re in tune, I sang the note in the audience, softly under my mask. My wife heard and leaned over with a chuckle. “Getting in tune?” she asked.

Well, of course. The Neurons immediately pulled up the Who rock classic, “Getting in Tune”, from 1971. But they surprised me by shifting to another Who song, “The Song Is Over” off the same album a little later, when we were waiting to see, is this a pause between movements or is the song over? Do we applaud now? Some audience sections had been fooled once. But it was over, so we clapped in appreciation, and The Neurons planted “The Song Is Over” into my mental music stream, where it remained this morning.

That’s impressive staying power because, other music. The Neurons were barraged with the usual Christmas popular favorites, like “Frosty the Snowman” and “Jingle Bells”, and a personal favorite, “March of the Toys”. I was introduced to MotT when I attended a concert as a young boy. Then I later saw Babes in Toyland, which left a staying mark. The Neurons shrugged it off, so here I sit with the Who. Love the opening piano in this song, though. Evocative to me. Then, of course, come the other familiar Who elements of bass, drums, and guitar notes dancing with the vocals.

Stay positive, test negative, and so on. Just got word via text that a third of my Pittsburgh nieces and nephews are sick with flu, along with a sister and her hubby. All adults were vaxxed. Word isn’t known on the children. I wish them all speedy recovers.

“On coffee, on bagel, on oatmeal, and dressing.” Sorry, The Neurons got a little silly there, substituting morning things for Santa’s reindeers as they’re called out by name in Clement’s classic. Here’s the music. Catch you later. Cheers

Tempting Tuesday’s Theme Music

Misty and 25 degrees F. Graylight bangs in through the windows. Gray stillness enthralls the landscape.

The cold outside works with the moment to tempt my spirit to cozy up under my duvet and covers and just hang tight in that warm cocoon for just a little longer, perhaps until March. The mists rule beyond a few hundred feet, depriving me of any mountain views. As far as I know, the lip of the world’s end is just over on the next street.

This is Tuesday, December 13, 2022. Not much of a holiday vibe rings the air. Sure, there’s Christmas music on store speakers. Holiday music thrills the coffee house ambiance off and on through the hours. Stores have some holiday items on display but overall, it feels like the holiday launch was premature and already peaked. Now we’re just waiting for the finale and the curtain fall so we can applaud and go on to the next big thing. Perhaps this is only my sentiments. Not many people seem jolly. Anxious is more how I’d color them. Anxious and tired.

It’s going to be 46 F as a high today. Of course, these are the same weather geniuses telling me that it’s sunny out there. Maybe it’s same zip code, different worlds. Sunrise entered at 7:31 but it was already light throughout the house by then. It seems like daylight is already showing up earlier in the morning. The sun show will end shortly before dark.

Freedom is on my mind this morning. I often feel constrained. Most of this is my own doing as I set up schedules to write, eat, exercise, and relax. Cats (2) and wife (1) add to this constraint, by their needs and wants. So does house and car mischief and the business of residing in the U.S. So I chaff. Even so, I know others have it much, much worse. It’s a fascinating thing, a web of emotions, logic, and expectations. Not complaining, I protest, just stating it as I see it.

The Neurons noted my subject on their radar. Their response was adding “Freedom! ’90” by George Michaels to the morning mental music stream. The song is about freedom and reflects his feeling that he’d lost freedom because of his stardom. Cry me a sea, right? But many celebrities end up on Michaels’ path, lamenting what success has done to their privacy. It’s a tricky labyrinth to follow, but that’s seen in most endeavors attempted where success is found. Success pulls admiration and brings more pressure to succeed and be. It ends up like golden handcuffs.

Now, I knew this song when it came out in 1990. Heard it on the radio all the time. Knew of Michaels and his success. But I’d never seen the video associated with the song. Seeing it today, I read more about Michaels’ reflections and frustration with success and freedom.

I know, waa-ville. Okay, I accept that. Stay positive and test negative. I’m up for a cup of coffee now. The cats are with me. Not that they’ll be having coffee — I shudder to think of them hopped up on caffeine — I mean, woof — but they’ll accompany me as I leave the office, make the brew, etc.

Here’s the tune. Hope your Tuesday works out well. Cheers

Sunday’s Wandering Thought

Two subjects wander through his mind as he situates himself at the coffee haunt to write. One, it’s raining and holidays are coming. Those conditions always make drivers less attentive and more dangerous. In his two-mile trip to the coffee place, he witnesses two near misses with people in cross walks and another involving cars making turns. Stay alert, he tells himself. Dn’t be one of them.

Two, what’s with the pajamas look? It’s forty degrees F out. Cold rain spits down. It’s leaning toward noon. Yet people of several generations are walking around in sandals with fleece clothes that resembles something worn to bed. And the sandals? Well, the whole ensemble looks like they rolled out of bed and were too lazy to dress and put shoes on. He wonders if they brushed their teeth. Their hair looks uncombed. Well, that’s fashion.

Yeah, he knows, he sounds like a cranky old man.

He knows.

Thanks-day’s Theme Music

This is it, the fourth Thursday of November, Thanksgiving in the U.S. President Franklin Roosevelt signed a Congressional proclamation declaring this is what we were going to do as a nation going forward. Before that, Thanksgiving was all over the place, sort of like Elon Musk and Twitter, an agent of chaos and close to unpredictable.

It’s November 24, 2022. Feels like spring is visiting autumn outside. Recognizing sunshine, the cats wanted out immediately. Their eagerness was rewarded by calm air hovering around 56 F on its way to a 65 F high. Gadzooks, what a treat. Sunshine invaded at a little before the 7:12 AM sunrise. Sunshine will hang out until 4:43 PM.

Thanksgiving is a day of deep planning for many families. Traditions are observed, new ones established. Martyrs are born as people go to extremes to satisfy their Thanksgiving commitments. Warnings are a newer Thanksgiving tradition as people point out which foods are vegan, gluten-free, vegetarian, or contains eggs, dairy, or nuts. Mom and my sisters do Thanksgiving up, going over-the-top with their food. There’s turkey with stuffing and all the American food staples associated with that through the years of Thanksgiving, but also pasta dishes to honor the Italian side. Dessert and treats? My god, yes. Apple pie, and pumpkin, along with cookies, pretzels and chips, cheese trays with crackers and bread, relish trays, and, yes, cake and cheesecake. Leftovers are eaten for a week. Some things are frozen and eaten later in the year.

My wife and I celebrate Friendsgiving with a group. We’ve been doing this for a while and it’s become our Ashland tradition. I’m looking forward to it, as friends that I’ve not seen in months will be there. I enjoy their company and catching up with their news.

A friend of ours is breaking her tradition this year. She loves Thanksgiving and plays hostess to her extended family every year. This year, though, her newly married son invited her and hubby to his in-laws’ Thanksgiving celebration, an enthusiastically accepted invitation, with just one hitch: part of his new family’s Thanksgiving tradition is a visit to the family spa in the nude. About that, she is not enthusiastic. She is seventy years old and a radical mastectomy survivor. She’s not excited about others viewing her nakedness, age and mastectomy or not. She’s just not one to share her nakedness. We understand. As my wife said to, “Hell to the no. Nobody outside of you is seeing my body.” That’s a position she’s held since she was a little girl.

Today’s music comes out of a car ride yesterday. The song is called “Classic” by Cam and came out in 2020. There are lines in it which we enjoy: “Johnny and June, Chevy light blue (They don’t make ’em like this anymore), Bette Davis, Yellow pages (They don’t make ’em like this anymore).” When we first heard it after its release, we laughed, went home and confirmed that we heard right.

Well, if you’re read this post before, you know that The Neurons liked that and have kept it going in the morning mental music stream this morning.

This is a late post. I’ve had my coffee, as I spent the first hours cleaning up and doing dishes after my wife did her cooking last night. Stay positive and test negative. Hope you have a day with an outcome worthy of giving thanks. Here’s Cam with “Classic”.

Cheers

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