Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Revision work on the novel in progress, Memories of Why, continues. I work on it everyday. 40% completed, I’m being a tortoise in this endeavor, slow and steady. Not infrequently, I read and revise a chapter three or four times. I mostly did this because it was overwritten to hell and needs to have overbearing words cut away.
But it’s satisfying and entertaining, and keeps me out of trouble, so I’ll keep on keeping on.
Mood: Coffpassionate
May continues is march. Today is the month’s 17th day.
It’s Friday. Clouds have won the morning, but they’re a modest whipped cream overlay. 63 F out there, 70 F is today’s top. 70 F isn’t bad for me, although it always comes to me as ‘not quite hot, and not quite cold’. I feel like Goldilocks writing that.
I miss my cats, Tucker and Papi. Note: I also miss my wife but I get to chat on the phone with her every day. She presents updates: “It’s nice outside, so they’re out there sleeping somewhere.” Not much color there, but then, but they’re low-key floofies. My wife does tell me that Tucker sleeps with her every night. Papi, of course, wants out. I’ll be happy to be back with them.
The Neurons have plugged a Sly Fox song into the morning mental music stream (Trademark reflected). The group came out with “Let’s Go All the Way” in 1985. As an 1980s product, it offers an eclectic and intriguing mix of techno sounds with mellow, laid-back vocals.
What’s interesting about this song is that many perceived it as a tune about sex. The truth is, it’s about politics. Here’s the initial verse:
Sitting with the thinker
Trying to work it out
It’s a traffic jam of the brain
Makes you wanna scream and shout
Presidential party
No one wants to dance
Looking for a new star
To put you in a trance
And the chorus is about a better way:
Let’s go all the way
We need heaven on Earth today
Aah-aah-aah
We can make a better way
Let’s go all the way
Go all the way
Let’s go all the way
Yeah
h/t to Genius.com
I think The Neurons’ choice is pitch-perfect. We have that guy, Trump, a Bible Belt darling with some. He practices as they preach: hate and name-calling is his daily delivery, for, as the Bible orders, “Hate thy political opponent with all the anger on Earth.” Their Bible seems to also state, “Treat women like they have no rights. Grab by the pussy and move like a bitch. Cheat on thy wives and lust after thy daughter.”
Also in their Bible is the guidance about morals and ethics: “Lie and cheat to get ahead, for more money is key to your place in Heaven.”
So, my fellow Democrats, let’s go all the way. Vote out those MAGA Republicans and make it a better day.
Coffee has made its way to me. Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Then let’s work on restoring voting rights and women’s rights, and rights for everyone everywhere, and act like a compassionate nation that immigrants helped build, instead of treating them like garbage, as the MAGA Bible apparently directs.
Here’s the video. And there’s the rain. Cheers
Sitting in the coffee shop, I sometimes take a break to pay attention to the people waiting for their coffee. Some are jittery, constant movement. Like they’ve already ingested a significant amount of caffeine, buzzy as little kids on a sugar high.
Then we have the impatient customer. Frequently tapping a foot, normally with hands in pockets or arms crossed, they look like they’re sighing over the unfairness of having to wait so darn long for their drink. Many of these will turn to their cell for comfort, chatting, texting, reading stuff, watching videos.
Others waiting for coffee assume a cool Steve McQueen demeanor, leaning back with mild indifference. The coffee will come and nothing they do will hurry it, so why bother? It’s not surprising to see some of them casually check cell phones, oozing as they do.
Fourth are those with the coffee stare. Stiff as a bronze statue, usually with their arms crossed, they posture right up against the counter’s edge, eyes opened wide, unblinking, waiting for their order. As drinks are made, you can almost hear their neurons shouting, “Is that mine? Is that mine?”
Finally, we have the laissez coffee set. Ordering, they find a table or sit until their order is called out.
People going into hospice care seems to be increasing in numbers. Not a great surprise as the population ages and end-of-life planning becomes more widespread.
I do think we might consider verbalizing ‘hospice’, though. Instead of stating that someone is entering hospice care, why not say they’re being hospicized?
Refloofsition (floofinition) – To shift an animal or relocate it from one place or posture to another. Origins: Internet, 2000s
In Use: “Thor and other house floofs loved taking over Amy’s places in the house. Knowing her schedule, they raced ahead to claim her office chair, for example, forcing many morning refloofisition when she began her remote work.”
Floofturb (floofinition) – 1. An animal which interrupts an activity. Origins: 14th century Middle Floofish.
In Use: “Marmalade is a known and famous floofturb. Interrupting the making of a bed is one of his floofcialies.”
2. An animal which causes worry or anxiety. Origins: late 20th century world wide web.
In Use: “Her propensity for roaming the neighborhood earned Patience many friends but also floofturbed her people with endless worry about her.”
I read a NYTimes article about Dr. Richard Restak’s new book on aging. His new book is “The Complete Guide to Memory: The Science of Strengthening Your Mind.” The Times’ article’s title is “How to Prevent Memory Loss”, and that sums it up.
As I reach toward the end of my sixties, I think about memory loss, especially forgetfulness. Whenever a moment of forgetfulness strikes my wife or I, she tends to say, “We’re getting old.”
I dispute the idea that my forgetfulness is automatically a product of aging. I didn’t at first but then I began thinking back to previous episodes of forgetfulness in my life. I’ve had brain farts at one time or another, so I don’t think we should assign much importance to them now. Further, I think blaming it on aging is a sort of surrender that will propagate the myth and acceptance that my memory burps are all about aging.
For instance, if you will.
We’ve gone shopping without a list prepared and forgot to buy something. My partner’s almost kneejerk reaction is, “We’re getting old. We need to remember to make and take lists.”
Well, yes, dear, lists are useful. We learned that lesson forty years ago. That’s why we began using lists in the first place. So, it ain’t necessarily because we’re getting old now. It’s because, like those times in our youth when we forgot something, we were busy. We didn’t slow down to think. We let our mind wander from the task.
That’s almost exactly what Dr. Restak notes in his paragraph, “Some memory lapses are actually attention problems, not memory problems.”
That’s why I liked this article. Many of the suggestions and ideas Dr. Restak presents to help prevent memory loss were ideas I’d discovered for myself. So I find it validating. I think practicing self-awareness about how I approach it whenever I forget something is key. Think about the circumstances around why something was forgotten. Reflect on it: was it an isolated moment or part of a larger trend?
A larger trend is more problematic but dig for the roots of it. Don’t automatically react, well, I’m getting old, so I’m getting forgetful. No, be mindful about remembering.
Finally, what really triggered me to think about this as a post subject was his point about reading novels.
One early indicator of memory issues, according to Dr. Restak, is giving up on fiction. “People, when they begin to have memory difficulties, tend to switch to reading nonfiction,” he said.
Yes, indeed, I thought. Remembering characters and plot events and details is challenging when reading a novel and thoroughly exercises our memory muscles.
But if you think reading a novel is a memory challenge, try writing one. Keeping details in mind of a complex character and involved plot will definitely help exercise your memory.
Now let me get back to editing and revising before I forget what I was doing.
Been watching the Starbucks Grand Prix.
It’s a flat Mickey Mouse circuit. Enter from the main road. Then into the quick left right complex. Hard 90 follows. Accelerate up the short side straight.
Then a fast lefthand sweeper into to the end of the line. Creep up, order, and shoot back out into traffic.
Or, the less used option. wheel around and rush into a parking slot. Park, jump out. Fast walk to the door. Get inside and then —
Options: pick up order at the counter and hustle back out. Or order at the counter. Stand back, cross arms and wait, hip thrust out, staring as they prepare your order. Tap foot as needed.
Rare option: enter, order, sit. Pull out ‘puter. Do typy/clicky things.
Watch the Starbucks GP.
Rarest option: sit. Open book or newspaper. Read.
I logged into my wife’s email account to help her sort an issue.
Correction: I tried to log into her email.
They — Hotmail, or whatever mastermind now behind it — wanted to send me a code to my wife’s second email address to log into the Hotmail.
So I filled in the second email account and went to log into it to receive a code to log into the first email account
Voila. The second email account wanted a code to log into it. They wanted to send it to the first email account.
To summarize: to log into one email account, they wanted to send a security code to a second email account but to log into the second email account, I had to log into the first email account to get a code to get into the second email account.
I always knew this was where tech was heading. It’s pretty FUBAR.
Michael Seidel, writer 