- Thinking of the post’s title brings back memories and a smile. Pre-pandemic, I used to regularly visit a coffee shop. I usually ordered mochas there. So, it was Michael’s mocha. Going with the alliteration scheme, Michal’s Mocha sometimes became Michael’s March Madness Monday Mocha. It also took place in May. Just harmless fun, banter between me and the ‘ristas.
- The skunk under the house was active last night. Lots of squeaking under the master bath and then arose that smell. We admire this skunk for her persistence and tenacity. She’s like a writer, never giving up, you know?
- I shut down the skunk’s activity last night — well, it was this morning, really, one twenty-five AM by all the standard references — with the iPad. Turning it on, I called up a video of David Frost interviews. Setting the iPad on the bathroom floor with the volume turned up, I plugged it in so it wouldn’t run out of juice, and closed the door. As soon as David Frost began speaking, the squeaking ceased.
- Just to make home life more interesting, we now have what seems to be a gopher hole in the back yard. Investigations are ongoing. More reports forthcoming. We’re a no-kill household, so I’ll probably be turning to sonic stakes to drive them away.
- I’m always fearful of calling down the muses’ wrath when I mention that writing is going well, that I’m enjoying the process and entertaining myself with what I write, so I won’t mention it.
- I really enjoyed the 60Minutes interview with Colson Whitehead that aired Sunday. First novel rejected twenty-five times and never published. He writes for himself but hopes that one person will identify with and like what he writes, and maybe one will become ten, etc. That’s me paraphrasing, based on what I heard, and perhaps what I wanted to take away from his outlook. He’s won two Pulitzer Prizes, which, great, congratulations to him. More importantly, those two books are in the house in my reading pile. My wife read both and recommend them to me. I seriously trust and respect her judgment in these matters. So, I’ll put those books higher on the pile.
- The reading pile is always growing, it seems. Books get recommended or passed on. Reviews are read and chords are struck. Friends publish new books and must be read. A new favorite author is discovered and other works are hunted down for reading. Then, there’s the non-fiction side. Reading is a constant requirement. I’m fortunate to have the time to indulge myself.
- I was reading in the living room yesterday afternoon. The book at hand was Countdown City by Ben Winters. It’s a quick, engaging noir adventure. Sunshine bubbled in over my shoulders through the blinds. Sitting, listening, in a pause from reading, I heard no electronics running. No lights were on. The furnace and refrigerator were silent. Radios and television were off, though clocks are running. The home weather station was running, and so was the net and laptops and the associated equipment. But none of these things made sounds. I enjoyed the sunny stillness.
- Thinking of clocks…four ‘clocks’ are in the house. Two are in the kitchen, in the microwave and range. Another is in the bedroom. The fourth is a battery operated clock in the snug. But then, we wear Fitbits, which offer us the time. So do the phones, the thermostat, and laptops, printer, and tablets. We track time everywhere.
- I’m fussy about synchronizing the clocks, too. I think, or at least, pretend, that it harkens back to my military career. Being synchronized to the second was important to us in that life.
- Also to keep life interesting — because these are such boring, tedious times — credit card fraud struck us. I was reviewing my credit card billing last week. It’s a weekly habit for me to go online and review all the finances, a time-killing activity to fill space when I’m putting off doing something else. It just takes a few minutes. Well, lo’, there was a small charge that I didn’t recognize. After verifying it didn’t belong to my wife, I challenged it with the company. They responded by cancelling that card and sending me a new one. However, they didn’t tell me that they were doing that. First I know of it was when the credit card was rejected. That spun me up fast. Suspecting it was related to the fraud that I reported, I checked into the account to look for notice that such is what happened. No notice. A chat with an agent was required to verify cause and effect. It would have been nice to be warned or notified that they’d done this, right? Irritating customer service policy, to say the least.
- We have only two credit card accounts. Each is used for certain activities, to help limit exposure. That meant, though, that we are down one credit card. Momentarily, yes, but it’s a domino effect. Emails arrive, hey, your card was rejected, what up? No idea when the new card will arrive so some activities are on stuck in a queue. Whereas I had reduced checking the mail to once a week in general, sometimes twice in one week, I’ll now be going to the mailbox daily.
- Also, I knew that credit card information. I could rattle off the number, expiration date, and security code without hesitation. Now I’m forced to learn a new number and particulars. Yeah, I like whining, don’t I?
- Got my coffee. Ready to write like crazy at least one more time.
Netfloof
Netfloof (floofinition) – Video content production company and streaming service operated by and provided to animals headquartered in Los Floofos, Califloofia. Founded in 1997, the company currently provides service to multiple planets and dimensions via quantum electronics.
In use: “Some of the original content that Netfloof offers includes shows such as House of Floofs and Floofless, offerings which mirror original human content.”
Thunderclap Newfloof
Thunderclap Newfloof (floofinition) – A Flooftish flock band formed by Pete Townshend and Kit Lambert in 1969. The group was originally active for two years. They released one album, Hollywood Floof, before disbanding. The band reformed in 2010 and released another album before disbanding again in 2012.
In use: “The 1969 song by Thunderclap Newfloof, “Something in the Floof”, became a number one song in the Floofnited Kingdom, and has seen use in movies, television shows, commercials, and advertisements.”
The Goal
I’m swearing about modern technology again. It’s all so easy, so taken for granted, they have groomed me to complain.
Today’s target is my Fitbit. It needs recharged, again. Every few days, this takes place. I wear the thing almost 24/7, removing it only to save it from the showers. The rest of time finds it hugging my right wrist, monitoring my activity. Sure, it sends me an email when it needs recharged. That email arrives at 1:30 to 2:00 AM. I supposed, if I’m more rigorously disciplined and attentive, I can train myself to check it each night when I’ve reached my goal and see how much remains on the charge. Yeah, I could, but I’m lazy.
“It wouldn’t need to be recharged so much if you didn’t keep using it,” my wife observes.
A growl is given back. This is not time for humor. Charging the fitbit means removing it from my wrist and waiting while it charges. While it charges, I’m not collecting steps. My goal each day is twelve miles. It’s a new goal every morning, achieved every night. No, I haven’t walked it, didn’t run it, swim it, bike it; it’s an accumulation of twelve miles of activities, twelve miles achieved each day, something tangible.
Writing is different. I use word counts as mileposts but they don’t matter. I may have added words but the novel isn’t finished. I’m not certain how close to being done it is. I have guesses which makes sense, but I know, even when it’s ‘done’, it isn’t done. It needs revised and edited. Even then, it’s not done. It’s not published, not finalized in some concrete form. Until it reaches that final moment, it remains a work in progress. It’s like going from Earth to Mars; it’s gonna take a while.
So, I pursue my twelve miles every day, a goal established each morning, something achieved each night, something to make me feel good, damn it.
Rainfloof
Rainfloof (floofinition) – Floof metal rock musical band. Formed in 1975 by the former Floof Purple lead guitarist, the band’s success was driven by their powerful shows, which eventually translated to Floofboard chart success.
In use: “Rainfloof’s highest charting song and best known globally is likely “Since Floof’s Been Gone”, released in 1979, when it hit number 46 in the Floofnited States and reached the top ten in the Floofnited Kingdom.”
Floofchant
Floofchant (floofinition) – 1. An animal’s strong and continued inclination.
In use: “The young Husky soon revealed floofchants for singing outside the bathroom if the door was closed and stealing food from the table.”
2. An animal’s (or animals’) melodic, and often repetitive sound.
In use: “She was certain the feline queen began the floofchant, a meow that sounded weirdly like, “Feed me now,” but it was when the Beagle, the ginger cat, and the bedroom panther joined that she became unnerved and started opening cans just to shut them up.”
Quicksilver Messenger Floof
Quicksilver Messenger Floof (floofinition) – San Floofcisco floofchedelic band formed in 1965. Initially active until 1979, the band was a floofhedelic flock (floof rock) pioneer, developing a global floofbase with their melding of folk, flazz, and classical influences while leading the way toward album-oriented music.
In use: “Quicksilver Messenger Floof didn’t achieve much commercial success with their singles, with their best known, “Fresh Floof”, reaching the top 100 in 1970.”
Floofthos
Floofthos (floofinition) – Quality in an animal that evokes sadness or pity.
In use: “Many animals who become pets learn to use floofthos to get what they want from humans, such as looking up with big puppy eyes.”
UFO – Unidentified Floof Object
UFO – Unidentified Floof Object (floofinition) – Material belonging to or on an animal that isn’t recognizable and must be treated with caution until categorized.
In use: “Something was on the hall floor. Look like a clump. Could be bark carried in by one of the cats. Or it could be a UFO. Warily she approached. It needed to be picked up, but she wasn’t going to risk that with her bare hands. No sir, when it came to UFOs, it was better to use toilet paper or paper towel, in case it’s a floofberry.”
Michael Seidel, writer 