Tag: memories

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: not fragile

Another rotation, and here we sit, on a Saturday, on 12 – 23 – 23.

27 F outside, fog obfuscates the scenes past the windows. White has been sketched over the plants as frost settled in last night and isn’t willing to leave. Sunlight is creeping in, casting a phantom aura acoss the optics. No precipitation is expected today, though clouds will be clearing out as the sun carries us to a high of 49 F.

The floofs have been remaining inside during this cold turn, deciding that maybe they’re not as wild as they’ve been claiming in social media. Both still attempted going out and Papi became insistent as Trump claiming to be the greatest, so out he went. In above seven minutes later (because Papi came to his senses, unlike Trump), he’s The Neurons’ inspiration for today’s music.

When I cracked opened the portal to his freedom, I told Papi, “Okay, now you’re on the loose. Enjoy it, dummy. You’ll be back.”

As noted, he was quickly back. Meanwhile The Neurons ended up posting “On the Loose” in my morning mental music stream (Trademark suspicious). I remembered the song but nada else. Turning to the net, I learned that it was by a Canadian band called Saga. Released in 1981, this was their biggest hit in the US. I admit that I only know “On the Loose” from radio play, and haven’t heard any of the rest of their music, but they keep rocking, having released 20 albums, most recenty in 2021.

Stay positive, test negative, be strong, and lean forward. Time for coffee. Here’s the music. See you in the pixels. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: weathering

Been under the weather for the last five days but green tea, napping, and patience has it feel like it’s ending. Time, you know, will reveal if that’s true. Wasn’t too much of a sickness, you know, just some energy-depleting, momentum robbing thing lurking in my guts, drumming in my head, and burning out my eyes. Through it all, though, I’ve had positive if frenzied dreams.

Today is 12/22/23. It’s the Friday before Christmas and all through the house, everything’s about as usual. Cats sleeping, Papi on the sofa, Tucker under the dining room table. They look sweet when they sleep like that, and they are sweet boys, although they’re a little emotionally damaged from whatever they endured before arriving at our door.

The heat is on — so is the fireplace — because it’s cold outside, baby. Was 33 F and foggy; now it’s 37, foggy, and rainy. Ain’t no sunshine taking up space in the sky.

My wife has been baking and baking. She admits that she became a little carried away with her intentions but the kitchen is at last still, the baked goods prepared as gifts except for the ones she took with her to exercise class to dole out.

As for the news —

Yeah. We know. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Weird song stuck in the morning mental music stream (Trademark deflated). Song by The Turtles, “She’d Rather Be With Me”, released when I was eleven bloody years old, was thrown into the mmms as I emptied the dishwasher and cleaned the kitchen. The giggling Neurons wouldn’t say why they put that song in, seemingly amused that I even asked. One sputtered, “You should know,” and they all guffawed and covered their mouths like they were all in on a joke that I should know. Damn Neurons.

This was another song learned through the 1960s routine of someone playing it on a record at home (the older sis is the culprit today) and hearing it repeatedly on TV and the radio. The video, in fact, comes to us from The Ed Sullivan Show.

Stay positive, test negative, be strong, and take care of yourself. The holidays are almost over. For some of you, it’s a happy time, for others, we endure. Off to get coffee. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: sleepy

Good afternoon from Ashlandia. Sunny and 56 F, this Thursday afternoon is muy different from our launching point. Starting at 35 F, fog descended on us, doing a suburb turn at shutting down the world to wandering car lights and noises behind a curtain.

So, still no snow. A friend who resides above Mt Ashland, which is our local ski resort, told us yesterday there was little snow and the morning temperature was 40 F. Snow isn’t in the immediate future. Meawhile, water is on our mind. The town is finally getting around to building a new water treatment plant. They’ve been talking about this for years. In the time where they wallied around it, the price has gone up; five years ago, the intended size was cut to reduce costs, and the price has has double, to about 70 mill. To pay for it requires our water prices to increase by 10% each year for the next six years. That’s on top of an average water bill which is the third highest in Oregon at 61.71 a month. Look at it compares to our neighbors, Medford (32.13), Phoenix (45.97) and Talent (47.86).

Happy solstice as well, as this is December 21, 2023. We used to celebrate the winter solstice with company, fires, drink, cake, soups, salads, and bread. Then, come COVID, we shut down and haven’t picked it back up.

Our morning was spent on grocery shopping as we diced with traffic and plied the cement river called I-5 up the highway to Medford. Costco was hellabusy while Trader Joe’s was casual, and Target was busy but tired. After those stops, we paused at a restaurant to scarf down food like we were starving cats and then headed back home, a nap, and more errands. Now we pick up the remains of the day.

Today’s music is Billy Idol’s rockabilly cover of “To Be A Lover” out of 1986. The Neurons stuck it into the morning mental music stream (Trademark rockin’) after my wife’s comment about something elicted “Have mercy,” as my response. Hearing that, The Neurons ran with it and the song was soon busy in my head. I’d never seen any video of it until now, and watching today, I laughed, remembering Idol’s sneering attempts to lather everything with sexual energy. So 1980s.

Stay pos, be strong, and enjoy your solstice whether it’s summer or winter.

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: prissy

December 20, 2023 is a Wednesday and carries the weight of spring. Confused by the signals the weather is giving, some flowers are blooming. We surfed a night of smooth rain, overnight lows in the mid 40s F. Our high today will bubble into the mid 50s. Casual clouds, thin and stretched, barely mask the blue sky. The cats are struggling to adjust, shedding fur after gaining their winter coats and now finding they don’t need them. Great clumps are left wherever they pause to sleep or wash.

Please, though, give us snow on the mountains. Please. It’s needed.

I surfed the news but left it after a short visit. Not depressing so much as it’s meh. We’re in a waiting stage for some many outcomes and perpetually checking and reviewing developments, breaking news, new revelations of old news and prognostications about what will happen has become tedious. I’m ravenous for some sense of an ending.

Musically, first I had “Too Marvelous for Words” whirling around the morning mental music stream (Trademark pummeled). It’s been performed by a long list of crooners but Mom often played Frank Sinatra’s cover while cleaning around the house. Released in 1956, the year of my birth, it’s drummed into my musical psyche. I have no idea why The Neurons voted it into my mind this morning.

But before it became too comfortable, a song inspired by the floofs was brought into the mmms. Released in 1972, “Children of the Revolution” by T. Rex had Elton John and Ringo Starr playing as part of the lineup. Although I enjoyed it, it went out of head until I heard the Violent Femmes version of it. A friend was colossal Femfan, and was playing the song in her car one day when we went to lunch together in Palo Alto. I asked if she knew the song’s origins, and then gleefully told the tale. I’d only heard it after my cousin, just returned from the UK where his father had been stationed with the USAF, played it.

How did the floofs play into this memory? I’d been teasing them, trying to trick them by pretending they weren’t being fed. They weren’t fooled, which triggered me singing, “You won’t fool the kitties of the revolution.”

Stay pos, be cool, remain strong, and leeeaaannn forward. Coffee has already touched my lips. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: smooth

Good foggy morning to you, and a happy Sunday. Today is December 17, 2023. Just two weeks in the year, so if you’re pursuing any resolutions from 2023, time to start wrapping them up. Many stores have the paper for it on sale now.

36 F around my house now, although there are reports it’s 47 F in other realms of Ashland. We’re not seeing much sun and getting less heat with the face full of fog we get when looking up.

The dancing flash mob on the bricks was fun yesterday. First, I need to correct their name; used to be the Broadway Dancers, but when they realized they were all over 60, they changed the troop’s title to the Broadway Boomers. They did two songs for us, “All I Want For Christmas Is You” (featured in Love Actually) and “Razzle Dazzle” from the musical, Chicago. Weather was swell for it, about 55 and brightly sunny.

Then in the evening, it was off to the Swedish Smorgasbord with friends. Excellent food, sensational Swedish gloog, wonderful people and delightful conversations. No politics heard. My friends’ house is so them. I’ve been there several times and it’s always neat and tidy. Family photos abound, which is expected, as family has always been priority one for them. Their lives in photos were on display from when these two started as a couple all the way through to their current status as great grandparents.

Today my wife is off to an early book club holiday party. Then they’re all going to the Camelot Theater to see The Wizard of Oz. I’m meeting here there at 2 PM to attend the play. Then we’ll likely eat out somewhere.

I have “Smokin’ In the Boys Room” by Brownsville Station in the morning mental music stream (Trademark projected). The song got there yesterday and has hung around after I saw a teenage boy walking down the street smoking a cigarette. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone so young smoking a cigarette in over twenty years. Clean cut, blonde, tall, he definitely seemed like a teenager — didn’t even look like he shaved yet — he strode down the sidewalk along Ashland Street, taking drags and letting out streams of smoke like a practiced sailor.

The scene sent my mind down all kinds of avenue of thought. On one of them, The Neurons caught on about memories of guys smoking in the school restrooms, and voila, they cranked up “Smokin’ in the Boys Room”, treating me to the Station’s version, which came out in 1973, when I was in high school, along with the later Mötley Crüe edition. I’ll include both here.

Stay pos, be strong and mellow, and lean forward. Coffee is being consumed on my end, delighting my taste buds with the bitter warmth, ushing life into me brain. Here’s the video. Cheers

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A Dino Ferrari Dream

Young, probably in my twenties in this dream, I was outside with my wife and some friends. Sunshine bathed us in what felt like a warm, beautiful day.

An unknown and unseen man was telling me that he had a car for me. Excitement growing, I laughed and joked about what kind of car this guy was giving me when I looked across the way and saw the front end and passenger compartment of a red Dino Ferrari 246 GTS.

Gasping, I asked, “Is that the car?”

See, the Dino 246 (pictured in photos) was released in 1969. I was thirteen and had discovered sports car and Formula 1 racing. When the car came out, I found it stunning. Even better, a few years later, the 246 GTS was released. This was a targa version of the same car. I’m embarrassed to admit how much I studied and drooled over photos of this car. Eventually, a plastic model was purchased and put together, and the model found space on my bedroom shelves.

But the unseen man said, “No, that’s not it.”

Disappointment staggered me. Then he indicated a black 246 GTS sitting elsewhere. “That’s your car.”

Ecstasy fluttered through me as I goggled at the gleaming black gem of machinery. The man was explaining, “It’s not a 246, but an Evo.” Even as he spoke, I saw the flares that marked the Evo. Evos privately reworked Dinos with upgraded engines and mechanical gear, and not a targa, but a fixed top.

I couldn’t believe that this beautiful car was to be mine. I asked about it a dozen different ways and the man repeatedly assured me, “That’s your car.” Most of the rest of the dream was spent riding around in the car with my wife, showing it off to people and explaining what it was.

But then came a moment when I’d parked the car and found a man with a petrol hose in his hand standing by it. Going to him, I questioned him and discovered that he planned to dose the car with gasoline and set it on fire. I firmly told him, “You are not setting my car on fire.” My voice and words were enough to send him hustling and stumbling away. I then had to explain to others who came up what had transpired as the man with the hose watched from a distance. Seeing him watching, I thought, I’m taking my car and leaving.

Dream end.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: jumpy

With a blue sky lightly skewed with faint white clouds stretched across it, we’re continuing a mild weather trend. Woke up to 33 F in Ashlandia, where the coffee houses are warm and the coffee is above average. We still haven’t had any snow on the valley floor. I think we’ve usually had some snow by now during my eighteen winters here. Won’t get any today, as stagnant air keeps clouds from coming in and the clouds already here aren’t up to dropping snow. Our temperature will test the upper fifties before the sun’s influence capitulates to the Earth’s turn.

This is Saturday, December 16, 2023.

A busy day is planned for us. Besides the usual ration of Saturday writing, errands, shopping, and chores, we’re attending the Broadway Dancers and their annual flash mob presentation on the downtown plaza. A few friends are in the ensemble, and it’s fun watching their energetic precision presentations. Later, we’re joining friends at their house for a traditional Swedish smorgasbord. Should be fab.

For reasons known only to The Neurons, I’ve got “Heart Full of Soul” by the Yardbirds in my morning mental music stream (Trademark dated). The Neurons are full of secrets and surprises but this one wins the prize. Minding my own business as I did morning things involving the floofs, I found lyrics going through my head. After a few minutes of listening and following the crumbs The Neuons dropped, I recognized the 1965 song. Its presence truly mystifies me. I don’t think I’ve heard it in decades, but I vividly remember my older sister playing the 45 on her little record player. The guitar sound mesmerized me. I didn’t know the group at all then but later learned who they were, and that the guitarist on that song was Jeff Beck.

Stay pos and free, be strong and brave, and keep leaning forward. I’ve got enough coffee in me already that I’m doing those things, at least until the caffeine wears out. Here’s the music video. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: sparkling

Chilly 34 F this morning, but sunshine and blue sky rule the space above the trees and mountains around Ashlandia, where the service is above average and the menus are varied. Peak temperature will be 56 F. Unlike yesterday, spring isn’t hovering in the air; it is a hazy shade of winter.

Today is Friday and this is December 15, 2023. We’re halfway through December once we pass midday. But sixteen days remain for 2023. 2024 is coming. So is winter for us in the northern hemisphere. I’m really surprised by how little snow has visited us here. That doesn’t bode well for next year’s water supply.

I don’t think I mentioned that we made our crock pot candy the other night. Pounds of nuts, bark, peanut butter chips, and milk and semi-sweet chocolate melted and stirred together and then plopped out on wax paper. Well, from many pounds of ingredients comes many pounds of candy. We bagged them up in a seasonal look and shared with others. Fourteen of my beer drinkin’ friends were gifted the treats. My wife calls them addictive. Several recipients emailed me to agree, and some even called them divine. Just tastes like the old Goo-Goo Clusters to me, minus the middle maple or vanilla.

Musically, The Neurons have surprised me with a gift song in my morning mental music stream (Trademark digitized) from an album by The Who, Quadrophenia, which was released in 1973, yeah, fifty years ago. Today’s song is “The Real Me”, a classic Who rocker — loud guitars, screaming vocals, and lots of drumming, but this one features the bassist, Entwhistles, basically doing lead guitar guitar on his bass. So cool to a teenager about to breach adulthood, and I still enjoy it. I also included a cut from the movie which resulted from the album.

The song choice by my head makes sense though in the context of our times. We always want to know who are celebrities are and what they’re really like. Beyond pop culture, we’re hunting the truth in our political leaders, too. Many will claim to be one thing, claiming they’re compassionate and religious and go to church regularly, regaling us with tales of principles and bravery, but their actions betray their claims. Meanwhile, others are maligned, being called liars and criminals despite lack of evidence. And then we meet people, or have relationships with others in which it seems like something shady is going on. Can I see the real you? I don’t know; many have become clever chameleons.

Be brave and strong and true and positive. Lean forward as others have done in our past to bring about better terms and conditions for living the best way possible. Keep advancing.

Here’s the music. There’s my coffee. Hey, ho, let’s go. Blitzkrieg Friday. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: energetic

Today is Thursday, December 14, 2023, but when I walked outside with the cats this morning, it felt like we’d leaped forward into spring outside. Nothing was in bloom but the air carried spring’s sass with sunshine, a blue-ish sky featuring a bevy of small white and gray clouds that looked like turtles reflecting dawn’s light, and 46 F. Then I sneezed several times like allergies had kicked in.

Celebrated a friend’s seventieth last night with her and other friends. Now retired, she’s a world-renown forensics expert in hair and fur. Egged on by two former work colleagues present, themselves forensics experts, she shared interesting tales with us. Entertaining time was had by all.

I have an unusual song circulating the morning mental music stream (Trademark buried). For reasons which they won’t reveal, “Walk Right In” is playing in my head. This is the 1963 cover by The Rooftop Singers. I had to wiki that. The song was written by Gus Cannon in and recorded by Gus Cannon’s Jug Stompers, a man and group I didn’t know of until I read it today. Mom used to play the song on her record player and sing along. The words are simple:

Walk right in, sit right down
Daddy, let your mind roll on
Walk right in, sit right down
Daddy, let your mind roll on
Everybody’s talkin’ ’bout a new way of walkin’
Do you want to lose your mind?
Walk right in, sit right down
Daddy, let your mind roll on

Walk right in, sit right down
Baby, let your hair hang down
Walk right in, sit right down
Baby, let your hair hang down
Everybody’s talkin’ ’bout a new way of walkin’
Do you want to lose your mind?
Walk right in, sit right down
Baby, let your hair hang down

h/t to Songfacts.com

All my life, though, I wondered, what is the new way of walkin’? I remembered asking Mom and hearing laughter in response, which just vexed the hell out of me. I guess some things will always be a mystery.

I know that Dr Hook covered it later but it’s The Rooftop Singers delivering to the mmms, so I stayed with them.

Stay strong, be positive, lean forward, and enjoy the video. Coffee is in me and driving me to get up and go. Once I’m done in the bathroom, I’m out the door to the writing day. Here’s the music. You have a good one. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: respectable

After a nocturnal thimble of rain, waking up to 41 F was a welcome change from the cold-morning streak that’s been going on in Ashlandia, where the restaurants are mostly above average.

Today it’s Monday — again — December 11, 2023, for the first time. 48 F now, we’re gonna clock 53 F, the weather prophets reassure us. Sunshine flutters between weak wings and strong glows, pushing efforts out around a flotilla of mixed media clouds and shadowed blue skies.

My theme song is “I Am, I Said”, by Neil Diamond. To be fair, I always thought the song was honest but a little over-the-top. As soon as I heard it, waaayyy back when I was a young adult, I understand what he was singing about. But, yes, some of the lines made me wince. It was one of those which invited The Neurons to plug it into the morning mental music stream (Trademark constrained).

My fault, though. I was walking around the house, looking for my phone, exasperated with myself for misplacing it. As I stopped and forced myself to recall the sequence of last using my phone — checking for a text from Mom and my sisters this morning — I remembered, ah, office, ah, black recliner. And, lo, there the black phone was in the black chair, left there when I jumped up to see what the floof monkeys were screeching at each other about in the other room.

“Of course, in the chair,” I mumbled to myself as I picked it up, checked the charge and confirmed, no texts. Just like that, The Neurons had Neil singing, “I am, I said, to no one there, and no one heard at all, not even the chair.” As the song kept going with only a brief respite filled by “Fifty Ways to Feed Your Floofy” (based on Paul Simon’s song), I felt a need to share Neil’s musical reflections with everyone else and power it out of my head. You’re welcome.

Stay positive, be strong, and lean forward. I’m working on doing the same and may well succeed if I have enough coffee in me. I have begun. Here’s Neil. Cheers

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