Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Strangest thing happened today. My big ol’ black and white cat, Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah), came up to me and said, “Me-ow.”
He surprised me. Tucker normally says, “Mrrew.” Or, “Rrow.” “Mrph.” “Mruph.” Things like that. Meow? Never. It was like hearing a dog say, “Hello.” Or a deer offering, “Good afternoon.”
Me-ow. It was so clear. So distinct. You could have knocked me over with a paw.
My wife and I were in the car when the ‘Charlie Brown dance music’ came on. This is that lively piano- dominated music supported by a bassist and drummer used in so many Charlie Brown specials. When the music plays, all the Charlie Brown characters develop big smiles and happy feet.
I guess I should backtrack to clarify that I’m talking about the music used for Charlie Brown cartoons. Charlie Brown is a round-headed kid who is part of the Peanuts gang. Peanuts was a syndicated comic strip created by Charles Schultz. It features Linus, a precocious Biblical scholar who believes in the Great Pumpkin and always has his security blanket alongside his sister, Lucy, the psychologist who charges $.05 to dispense advice, who is also known to entice C. Brown to kick the football, only to yank it away at the last minute. There’s also Sally, Charlie Brown’s sister. Athletic Peppermint Patty and her friend, Marcie. Pigpen, who generates and attracts dust and dirt. And Schroeder, who plays the piano and admires Beethoven. That’s just the nucleus of the group. There’s also the world-famous Beagle, Snoopy, who sleeps on his back on top of his dog house and pretends to be fly a Sopwith Camel as a WW I flying ace, and Snoopy’s buddy, the bird called Woodstock.
That’s the nut of it. Going back to the music, when it hit us in the car from the vehicle’s stereo, my wife and I laughed and talked about how evocative it was. Energetic, it wants you to immediately move in response to its beat and imitate the Peanuts gang. I thought the jazzy tune was written by a jazz musician but had no idea who it was. Had to look it up when I got home and learned it was Vince Guaraldi.
The song’s correct title is “Linus and Lucy”. First heard by the public in December of 1964. It’s a cool tune, Charlie Brown.
Jingle Jangle.
It’s a Trader Joe’s offering for the holidays. Basically, dark and milk chocolate is poured over pretzels, nuts, popcorn, caramel corn, etc. Some tiny pseudo milk-chocolate and dark-chocolate Reece’s Peanut Butter cups and faux M&Ms are thrown in.
Reading about it — a man bought fifty of the tins to give as gifts because he found it so good! — my wife thought that she would buy some for friends. But first, you know, being a good gifter, she thought we needed to try it out. We did that last night.
At first, yum. That’s good dark chocolate but what is it that it’s covering? We thoroughly tested and tasted, sampling everything. “Really sweet,” she said.
“It is really sweet,” I agreed. “I’m feeling a little sick.”
She nodded. “Me, too.”
I cut the sweetness with water and urge myself, stop eating. But the damn stuff was addicting. Finally, stomach in full rebellion against more, I ceased.
“I don’t think we’ll give that to anyone,” my wife announced. “It’s just too sweet for everyone we know.”
I agreed. Then I wondered, what are we going to do with the rest of a tin of Jingle Jangle?
I bet it goes good with coffee.
There’s been a weather shift. From nowhere predictable (or, shall we say, it wasn’t predicted), sunshine and blue sky burst in on Ashlandia. Clouds flee like birds chased off by a cat.
Woo hoo, sunshine! Its warmth pushes the digits to 56 F. 56! I stand in a blaze, face up, sucking in fresh air and imagining sunblessed vitamin D pouring into me. Although…
The sun is the sun, even if it’s winter, almost solstice. I used moisterizer on my face. (Excuse me, I’m not a barbarian.) But does that moisterizer have any SPF rating?
Unable to recall my moisterizer’s nuances and protection, I hasten out of the sun.
This is modern life.
Feeling a hungim, I went out and picked up breakfasts burritos — egg, cheese, and potatoes — from our local Market of Choice. A ‘hungim’ is a ‘hungry whim’ for the uninformed.
I’m just trying to keep the language moving forward, or movfor, if you will. Hey, come on, how do you think they emerged with words like ‘yesterday’ in the past?
Now I’m back to drinking my blafee. Yes, black coffee. Cheers
We went to brunch at a restaurant. Santa came by to say hello. I told him, “Your accent is not what I expected.”
Santa replied, “Well, I’ve been hanging around Oregon a lot.”
I nodded. “Oh, you’ve been Oregonized.”
Santa presented me with a laugh.
We made Christmas crock pot candy today. I’m employing the marital we. I put Christmas confection on them and found containers to house them until they’re bagged up. My wife did the actual work. She blames me in part for them. She said, “I have to make something to exchange with Lori. She’s going to make that biscotti that you like and bring it over. I need something to give to her.”
Yes, I have a bad habit of effusively thanking people for whatever baked goods they share with me. Folks take that to heart. Thereafter, I’m delivered biscotti, banana-nut bread, zuchinni loaves, peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, grape pie, fudge, and brownies. I know, it’s an American tragedy.
We’re also going to a Swedish smorgasboard, so something was needed as a hostess gift. My wife decided the Christmas crock pot candy would work because we gave them out before, and the husband and wife told my wife how much they liked it.
It’s all a vicious holiday circle, isn’t it?
Went grocery shopping yesterday. A light shop, a stop-gap function done because we were in Medford for a medical appointment, so let’s shop since we’re here. Combining tasks is the ‘Merican way.
Watching folks with their shopping carts in stores, I thought, we really need to codify some basic shopping cart etiquette. I mean, most of spend an impressive chunk of existence in the U.S. in stores, guiding a shopping cart. Some rules and expectations could be helpful. Like, “Do not block the aisle with your cart and body. Be mindful of other shoppers.” Yes, that’s a toughie for some: mobility issues, size of the aisle, and size of the individual all contribute to the difficulty levels. But at least make an effort, won’t you?
While we’re at it, could you pay attention when you’re wheeling your cart down an aisle? Nothing like being forced to stop and watch as some yo-yo pushes their cart blindl forward while looking behind them. I was going to say to treat your cart like you’re driving a car but numerous lobotomized drivers seem to be steering motorized vehicles these day.
BTW, we’re all tired and impatient. You shoving your cart around, cutting others off, doesn’t help the sit. But we witness the same thing in road rage incidents, don’t we, as people impatiently cut corners and run red lights and stop signs.
Anway, to socialize these new shopping cart norms, we can involve shopping carts and celebrities. Imagine synchronized shopping cart activities in Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, and other holiday parades. Shopping cart manuveuring and rules can be taught in elementary school. Remedial courses can be offered in high school and college. Perhaps there will be Olympic shopping cart events. Maybe we can change the hundred meter dash. Adding carts and staging it in grocery stores would make events like that more relatable to norms like me. We’d call it “The Shopping Cart Dash”. Makes more sense than high hurdles. How many times do you really do hurdles in real life?
Rev up your imaginaiton to the possibilities. James Croden could go shopping with celebrities. We can have a public service campaigns featuring Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift and other stars pushing shopping carts in stores while complying with the new etiquette. Which sports superstar, Hollywood uber star, or pop megastar would you like to see pushing a shopping cart to inspire you? With examples like Joey Logana, Selena Gomez, Jelly Roll, Tina Fey, Ellen, Aaron Judge, and Patrick Mahomes leading the way, we could become a nation known as polite and civilized shopping carters.
I mean, what else do we have going for us at this point?
Nothing like unwittingly stepping — barefoot — into floof gack to change the morning’s trajectory.
Unwittingly is not superfluous there, either. On the one hand, what fool would wittingly step into floof gack? Are there people out there who cry with glee, “Look, floof gack,” and step in it? Perhaps; this world has some unusual individuals in it.
But it was unwittingly because I didn’t know anyone had gacked. So the gackdar was down. No warning at all until my recovering foot found the wet squishyness under it, forcing me to keep it up off the floor while I hopped-hobbled to the bathroom to rinse it off.
At least it was on the hardwood floor, and it wasn’t a major gack, just a category one. Easy clean up, you know?
They told us we had to have skin.
Our mind pulsed against the news. We don’t know that we would have accepted the premise, were we told beforehand that having skin was a requirement.
Ca!ixha flew in over our head, red with anger. Their thoughts flew into our awareness. Anger, shock, wariness. Doubt. The overarching question, is it true? Is this needed?
My intellect sewed together the action. Having skin was inevitable. We were studying Humans. We needed to live among them, like them, to learn what it is to be them.
We swallowed this with hardship. But as I did, I pulsed in pride. I’d thought, I think, like a Human, using their constructs. ‘Beforehand’. ‘Sewing’. ‘Action’. ‘Live.’ ‘Swallowed’.
?sho7zn came in. They’d been integrating with others and informed us of greater requirements. We will eat. We will have body functions. We will be I. Me.
Human aspects were introduced to our understanding. We would have ears and tongues. The tongues would be in mouths. With teeth. Hair.
We choked down disgust as the Overreach began threading us with these Human aspects. Eyes and noses. Bones and muscles.
The weight of these things burned our sentience. We were to breathe. Hearts and lungs were given. . Nerves were threaded through us. Skin was applied.
Helplessness ached in us. Our eyes formed ‘vision’. We saw as Humans would see. Millions of us were stretched across the space, layers of us, shoulder to shoulder, feet to head, all looking up, stupidly grinning, waving our appendages. Sounds as Humans trickled in. We gurgled and cooed and giggled and farted.
The Overreach bestowed us their presence. “Now your journey will begin. You will soon each have a mother, at least in the initial stage. What happens to her and you after that will determine whether that mother will remain with you. We are with you the entire time and will gather and analyze all of your activities, thinking, and feelings so that we may learn what it is to be Human.”
Our being buzzed with thinking of ourselves as ‘her and you’ and the many shapes and meanings these words convey. We would be ‘he’ and ‘she’, ‘him’ and ‘her’. The contexts had been introduced to us but without greater substance for attachment, they’d been abstract voids. With the body now encasing us, we were beginning to grasp what it all meant. We would have sex. We would sleep.
The Overreach said, “Now, it is time to be born.”
Red lights flared around us. Cold air swamped our tiny form. Something roughly took hold of our body.
In response, we screamed.
Our Human interation had begun.
Michael Seidel, writer 