Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Female friends took another female friend clothes shopping. 103 years old, the third friend had declared, “I’m tired of wearing bras. I want a garment to stop me from jiggling but I’m swearing off bras.”
My wife — who never wears a bra at home — exclaimed, “103 and she’s swearing off bras now? Boy, she has a lot more tolerance than me.”
Caught a commercial on TV. About a doctor and her doctor peers, I guess, and their work in a hospital, and their personal lives and romances. As the female doctor kisses a man, a female voiceover says, “The Universe has a way of making sure we’re where we need to be.”
Well, I call bullshit on that. Bullshit because so many people, including children, live in poverty and food insecurity. Some work several jobs. Some deal with personal darkness or physical, emotional, or menal handicaps. Bullshit for the women denied their choice in America and suffer fear and pain because others decide how they should live and strip control away from them. Bullshit for the people around the world with trying to understand themselves and their minds and bodies — I’m speaking about people who don’t neatly align with a binary world — being denied assistance and support.
What about those innocents in war zones? That where the Universe needs to be as the bombs rip up their lives and kill their families. Naw, I’m calling bullshit on that, too. That’s just the tip of a 2024 existence.
I’m happy that some people wherever around the world finds a happy medium where they are and where the Universe has delivered that gives them a safe and happy life. But I think for most, we live lives where we’re scrambling or helping others scrambling to survive.
Man, television and Hollywood can be full of such bullshit. Yeah, that was a young elderly white American middle-class rant. Just needed to expell it from my system.
Mood: Alright
March 1, 2024! And Friday.
It’s a late start again for me as far as writing and posting go. Friends are in town and we met for a big coffee gathering. See, there’s a tradition established around a M-W-F exercise class. It engages at 8:30 AM. Finishes at 9:30. Then a group goes off for coffee. The female side of the visiting friends was part of this coffee klatch, so she did the class and then all joined for coffee. Several husbands and I, who are a normal part of the gathering, joined the gathering to see our friends and socialize. The visitors lived here in Ashlandia, then moved to Portland, and now are in the process of moving to Spain. That last isn’t an easy process but they’ve been going every year during the last three and are committed to making the move.
The winter storm they’ve been warning us about slammed into the valley. For a while, we hung at 34 F as snow charged down and clung to the Earth, building its base. Warmer air crowded in. Snow became rain and melted all the snow at our elevation. Bright sunshine now smothers the valley, and the temperature is working close to the expected high of 48 F. Friendly white clouds are driving in a blue sky.
My morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) has been like a radio station. A sample of today’s music heard in me head:
“Our Day Will Come” – Ruby and the Romantics, 1963
“Little Red Corvette” – Prince, 1983
“Turn the Page” – Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band, 1973
“The Luck You Got” – The High Strung, 2005
“I’m Alright” – Kenny Loggins, 1980
“Our Day Will Come” seemed like a dream remnant. The Neurons plugged in “Little Red Corvette” because I’d seen a red Corvette the day before, a 1984 one, like Dad’s, except Dad’s was Navy blue. “Turn the Page” is a natural arising from on month’s ending and another month’s start. “I’m Alright” was cranked into the stream after I completed my daily self-assessment, done after walking around, seeing if anything is misaligned, malfunctioning, or gone, as far as my body and mind goes. Another two or three songs were featured in the MMMS but I went with “The Luck You Got” by The High Strung because it demonstrated the strongest presence.
I learned about The High Strung from an episode of This American Life I was listening to while driving one day and then sought their music on the net. Of course, I did hear “The Luck You Got” not too long ago when my wife and I checked out the US version of “Shameless”. We’d watched the Brit version back in the day and were leery of what an American version would be like. When I heard the theme music I thought, hold it, I know this song. Weirdly, just as I began looking it up, I fully remembered it.
Be strong, lean forward, vote, and remain positive. Fortified with coffee, I’m right there with you. Seize the Friday. Here’s the music. Cheers
Whenever I come home, I check to ensure the cats are still alive. I do the same with my wife if she’s napping or in bed. Is this normal behavior.
Signed, Am I Being Macabre?
Mood: Cofoptimism (optimism fed by coffee)
Today is Wednesday, Feb. 14. 2024, my fellow travelers. Which means Valentine’s Day. You probably haven’t heard about this little-known holiday. Invented to sell more jewelry, candy, flowers, and cards while increasing liquor and restaurant business. According to a 2017 ABC News piece, Valentine’s Day spending in that year topped $136 per person on average.
Sadly for my partner, my romantic tendencies withered away long ago. She accepts that with acidic humor, but accepts. Although she doesn’t cop to remembering this, she told me in our first years of marriage not to buy her Valentine’s Day Gifts. I was hurt, and I remember. She bought a bag of Dove dark chocolate hearts and made little gift bags for her friends. They were passed out after exercise class this morning; she said she’s celebrating ‘Galentine’s Day’, because, “We gals don’t need men.” Her gay friends are included. She cracks me up. BTW, I did buy her a gift last year, some lovely little earrings which she likes. Or claims to. She does wear them. We did go out to dinner last night, too.
Rainy, cloudy, and chilly are today’s descriptors. Temperature is 44 F and it’s not going much higher. In the give and take between winter and spring, and their offspring, sprinter, winter has asserted its presence.
The rain is keeping the housepainters away. They are very close to having our house done. It’s a welcome break, because they’ve been by the house almost every day for almost two weeks. The cars also appreciate it, because they can relax and behave ‘normally’. Well, Papi can. Tucker has been reasonably unaffected by the painters. Just his nature. Meanwhile, we’ve been keeping them in at night because, cougar. Papi is generally displeased by this development but I assuage his mood by giving him a treat when he wants out. He eats that and goes off and sleeps. Knock on wood that this strategy continues working without him becoming a chunkofloof.
Lot of interesting and exciting political news today. Maybe it’s just my natural optimism rising or I’m being naive, but my confidence for a Biden re-election victory is rising. Fingers crossed, etc.
The Neurons didn’t have anything loaded into the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). I don’t know what’s wrong with them. On vacation? Sleeping in? Hungove? I don’t know. After some thinking as I fed the cats and myself, I thought I’d share Madonna’s 1990 song (written by Lenny Kravitz), “Justify My Love”. Returning from a four-year tour of Germany with the military, I saw the video for it when I was in a hotel at my new base the following February (1991) and thought, holy cow, or something like that.
But then I came across this thing on Facebook, so I’m instead sharing Taylor Swift and Phoebe Buffay (Lisa Kudrow) performing “Smelly Cat”. This song was featured on a television sitcom called “Friends”. “Smelly Cat” was introduced to the show in 1995, and was regularly performed several years after that. It’s a humours little piece.
Stay positive, remain strong, lean forward, and vote when the opportunity arises. I will do the same. Now, back to drinking coffee for me. Here’s the music. Cheers
An email was forwarded to us by friends who live about two miles away. We’re toward Ashlandia’s southern perimeter, and they’re above the library downtown. It’s a small town.
Good morning HOA – I wanted to reach out and let you all know that the past 2 nights we have had a cougar in the neighborhood. Last night, it unfortunately killed our older cat. We also found a dead raccoon in our yard so I would urge you all to keep any pets inside at night if possible. The cougar seems to be especially active around dusk – It was hunting earlier in the evening yesterday just after 6pm and we had let our cat out without thinking it would be active so early.
It looks to be injured and we have seen it limping. It did not run away when we tried to shoo it away so be aware that if you are near it, it may not run away and may be more aggressive because it is injured and can’t run away easily.
We’re rural, not deeply populated or industrialized. Cougars and bears live in the area along with foxes and coyotes, raccoons, deer, etc. Of course, the cougars and bears are rarer that most of the others, wilder, and carnivores, so they get a sketch more attention than other critters. That it has killed someone’s pet makes me wince for the animal and its owner. Grudgingly I accept, this is part of life, and then my thoughts churn with worry about my own little housefloofs and how much they enjoy going outside.
We may need to revisit that policy.
I had a strong and productive writing session yesterday. But being so involved, my sense of time evaporated. I found myself leaving the coffee shop an hour later than usual.
I couldn’t go directly home, but had to go buy light bulbs. Finishing with that errand, I jumped into the car to head home. By now, I was an hour and a half later than usual.
My phone rang. It was my wife. “What’s up?” I asked.
“Where are you?” she answered. “You’re much later than your usual time. I’m calling to see if you’re dead or unconscious in a hospital.”
“You called to see if I was dead or unconscious?” I laughed.
She did not.
One of the baristas seemed angry with him. He didn’t know why, but she appeared to act colder toward him, like he’d offended her. Searching his memories, he didn’t find a triggering episode. It could be other things, he told himself, like he’d imagined her being nicer and friendlier before, or he was imagining now that she was angry with him. Or, she might be upset with something happening in her life, and he’s just reading her interaction with him and misinterpreting it.
Really, though, while all of those were logically possible, it felt to him like she was angry with him, and that bothered him.
One important matter that many new writers overlook is, what does their muse want?
The muse can fill a critical function in the fiction writin’ process, so identifying them and learning what they like — and DISLIKE — can be a significant component of your personal process. Sometimes, as it is for me, it’s more than one muse, so the aspiring writer must pay attention to who the muses are and what they do. Fer ‘nstance, my muses love coffee. Don’t try to pawn tea or chai off on ‘em; they’ll inform you with seething disgust that they’re not the same. However, some of the muses are more impatient and arrogant than the others. Some of them read someone else’s fiction and immediately scream into my ear, “Write something like that!” I’m always coping with them doing that. The way I do so, with more patience and caution that touching a sleeping cat’s belly, is to gently promise I will write something like that after I finish this (whatever this is) and hope they accept and quiet down.
BTW, don’t try to overlook the grammar and punctuation muses. They can be wrong but they will push and push for a decision about a comma, period, tense, noun, verb, and so on, until they’re satisfied (at least for the moment).
My muses are not fond of writing at home, cuz cats, spouse, phone – well, environmental distractions. (Yeah, we still have a home phone, althought it’s VOIP.) My muses like it in a noisy coffee shop where nobody pays attention to them and they can write in peace surrounded by people bustling around on their business. As I have multiple muses (sometimes called musi in the more traditional plural spelling) (yeah, just kiddin’ ‘bout that), I need to ensure the right one shows up on time. Little is worse for me than entering a revision session only to have a ‘new project’ muse enter to help, suggesting the concept for a new novel, novella, short story, movie, song, play, or essay.
Last, my musi demand time and focus on them everyday. If they don’t get it, they spoon crankiness, exasperation, and irritation into my mood. So, every day, no matter what’s happenin’, they want me to sit and write or edit. They don’t care if zombies are overrunning the neighborhood, a blizzard is underway, or nukes are falling. Nor is being hungry, sick, or social engagements a concern for ’em. They want their writing or editing time. And don’t think that research is good enough for the muse. I’ve tried mollifying them with research; my muses don’t buy it and will sometimes go off and sulk, leaving me without a muse to write. I can do it, but it’s a bit like having problems with a bowel movement.
Now, back to writing. So sayeth the muse what’s in charge.
Mood: Hapup (happy and upbeat)
Saturday, January 13, 2024, has arrived with higher temperatures and heavy, wind-driven rain whipping Ashlandia (where the coffee is excellent and the parks are above average). It’s 42 F now, not far from the expected peak of 49 F. Rain has been falling all night, and the misty low, fat clouds look like they have a lot more to give.
The cats both wanted out this morning after their breakfast. Tucker settled in a dry but cold location on the front porch while Papi sought whatever drives him to wander. I managed to coax both back in after thirty minutes. When they came in, both dashed for me and I discovered Papi was soaked. I toweled him off (despite his protests and efforts to flee) and then Papi headed for the kibble station while Tucker went to the litter box.
Left home early, didn’t take the dog (don’t have one) or the cats (I have two). Coffee shop numero uno was at full cap so I went to numero dos. A prime writing location was available so I sat and began. Unfortunately, I discovered that a leak was exploring the ceiling above and splashing down. I alerted the staff and shifted sites. No good writing location was available but I found a table and set up camp. A young guy at my most preferred site. Understanding that I was on a laptop and could use an outlet, he approached and offered it to me. Such kindness. I offered to buy him something as reward but he declined.
One amusing thing was observed. I saw one barista drift through, washing off the unused tables and tidying. About four minutes after she went through, a second one went through, doing the same thing to the same tables.
Very satisfying and uplifting dreams were experienced last night. Hope everyone has such dreams in their life. Thinking about it had The Neurons plug “What Is Life” by George Harrison (1971) intorock the morning mental music stream (Trademark drifting). I get what The Neurons are doing there, because I’d been musing about life since a conversation with a friend about death the other day. Her husband worries about death and fears it. I related back that I didn’t worry about it because we don’t know if there is an ‘other side’ or the full nature of ourselves and our existence. I mean, between religion, science, and philosophy, we’ve developed some great ideas and insights about what it is. But knowledge is ever-evolving, and as we explore the quantum side of being more, we might surprise ourselves with what we learn. “I think, therefore I am,” might even apply to us after we die along paths that we can’t yet divine.
Stay pos, lean forward, remain strong, and test negative. Coffee and its bennies are already perking through my systems. Here is thy theme music. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 