Tag: memories

Thermsday’s Theme Music

‘Tis a quiet Thursday, July 6, 2023, in Ashlandia, where the children are out of school, and the parents are on vacation. It’s 74 F now, ten AM, under a hazy blue sky. We’re supposed to creep up to 90 F today, a change from the last several days, when we saw 97 F. Normal summer for us.

Today’s lower temp pleases me. We’re taking some friends to the OSF Green Show, where a local popular band, The Rogue Suspects, are performing. Featuring ‘The Girls’, three wonderful female singers they’ve added on over the years, 6:45 PM is when it starts. Probably have ice cream at one of the local establishments when it’s over. Should be a very comfortable temperature at that time.

My birthday was yesterday, and was a grand time. No party, per se, but I try to party every day, even if it’s only in my mind. Lots of messages from family, friends, and old co-workers via email, text direct messages, birthday cards delivered by the postman, FB posts, and phone calls. Sorry I didn’t get a telegram, too. I was told that I don’t look a week over 70, which pleased me, as I’m a sensational 67. Now the countdown begins until the next birthday.

Day like that deserves a song like “For A Rocker” by Jackson Browne out of 1983. As mentioned here before, I was at NCO Academy in Florida when the song was released. I immediately took to it and drove others crazy by frequently singing it. I apologized with the post script, “Don’t blame me, it’s The Neurons. They’re totally out of control.”

Stay positive and comfortable. Keep your head above the water and your mind fixed on your destination. A fresh brew of the life energy called coffee has arrived. I will be partaking.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Summer’s bustin’ loose in Ashlandia, where the wine is fresh and the chocolate is made locally. 70 degrees F when I catapulted myself out of bed at Tucker’s insistence about 7 AM. Sunshine was climbing the blue dome, exiling clouds to other lands. My Oregon Scientific weather station said we cleared 99 locally yesterday. Weather geniuses tell us it’ll be 94 F as the high; I’m thinking we’ll see 96 at my house. Almost getting to air conditioning weather.

Well, A/C is used in the car, and all businesses. At the homestead, we avoid it. Wife prefers it a little warm, and I prefer fresh air whenever possible.

The Neurons have sown the morning mental music stream with a Bob Dylan song, “It’s Alright Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)” from 1965. My mind was primed to remember and hear the song by another’s post regarding scenes that ruined movies for them. One was Easy Rider.

I didn’t hear the song when it first came out, as I was nine. Mom controlled the music in that era. That was soon to end because sis was eleven and discovering pop. I don’t think I heard the song until much later, when the Easy Rider movie came out. Didn’t see the movie at that time due to its rating, but the songs found their way into my head via radio. Had my own transistor by then. I do sharply remember being mesmerized by the lyrics. I later learned they were written by Bob Dylan. I also later learned that the version I listened to and enjoyed was performed by Roger McGuinn.

While the lyrics rhymed, they were about things not usually heard in songs at that time, on those stations. Learning them had me singing them. I remember singing this song to myself while getting something in the kitchen where Mom was cleaning and my elder sister was on the phone.. Mom interrupted me: “Michael, what is that you’re singing?”

I thought she was referring to the title and provenance but she interrupted that answer. “What are those words?”

Since I didn’t know where I’d been stopped, I started from the beginning. Sis started laughing as she heard; Mom rolled her eyes, shook her head, and set her lips into the tightest of tight. She said nothing verbally, but those actions were loud. As I left and went around the corner into the living room, I heard her ask sis, “Do you know that song?”

The reply, “I might have heard it once on the radio.”

I stopped to hear more but nothing more was said and I went on. Made a big impression, though. It’s like it’s all before me once again.

It’s in the head today because the line, “There is no sense in trying,” in that sharply plaintive tone, came up in regard to local politics. Wife said something about why even try, and that’s how my brain responded, and along came The Neurons, and here we are.

Be pos, stay pos. At least try, right? I know some days, quoting my wife, it all becomes exhausting and overwhelming. The question, “What’s the point?”, may sneak in. That’s okay. It happens. Get on top of that and ride the wave until it’s behind you. That’s what I try to do. Generally works.

Hark. Is that coffee calling me? Here’s the music. Cheers

Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child’s balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying.

h/t AZLyrics.com

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Back at the homestead. Something is barking outside. Sounds like a sea lion barking up a storm. Understandable, as he’s in the mountains. Probably asking directions for the coast.

It’s Thursday, Jun 29, 2023. Folks are active outside on this cool 62 F morning in Ashlandia today, where the seniors are busy and the coffee shops are crowded. We’re lookin’ fer 90, 92 F, sumpin’ in that area, today. Protect your skin, and hydrate. It’s a no-cloud zone for now.

Coffee drinking has commenced. The cats have been in and out, tickled by their space, entertained by a jay’s activities, soothed by a breeze, warmed by the sun. The jay is always out there doing things — well, dusk to dawn — sorry for the hyperbole — an epitome of energy. Depressing to watch their busy self. Makes me feel like a sloth in comp.

In sad news, sunrise has backed up to 5:37 AM. A moment of silence for the lost minutes. Next thing you know, it’ll be November and the sunrise won’t be comin’ ’round till after seven.

Has been a fast year. I always think that it’s just me feelin’ so but my wife said to me, “It feels like it’s too soon for the fourth of July.” I agree. Feels like we’re shooting through 2023 like a slick uncooked turkey through buttered fingers.

After I began ruminating about time, The Neurons just took off runnin’ with it. Don’t know ’bout you, but that’s how my neurons do. Then people are asking, “You look like you were thinking about something.” You reply, “I think I might have been but I don’t know what it was.” Anyway, The Neurons reacted with “Time Is Running Out” by Muse (2004). I enjoyed the video back when it was released, just under a year before we moved from California to Oregon. Liked those military folks around the table, oblivious and yet doing things as a synchronized act. After my military career, that felt right to me.

Stay pos, and don’t let the bedbugs bite. Here’s the music. Cheers

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The Resemblance

He thought he saw a friend entering the coffee shop, staring at him as the other passed.

Impossible, of course. His friend, Andy, died back in the early part of the century, murdered while on a business trip in Tennessee, a story misted with mystery. Andy and a woman he’d met at a bar talked to a man in the bar about buying a boat. After some drinking, the three went out to the man’s house at midnight to see the boat. A fight ensued.

Andy always carried a knife and pulled it now. The knife was taken from him. Stabbed twice in the abdomen, he staggered half a mile down the long dirt road leading to the house. A trooper found him dead on the roadside hours later.

All that came back as he watched the man with the remarkable resemblance to Andy. Other possibilities could explain why the man looked like Andy. It could be Andy. Andy could have returned from the dead. Andy’s death may have been faked, the death story constructed as part of some larger con. Maybe Andy had a twin he didn’t know about, or he’d crossed into a dimension where Andy still lived. Theories crowded his head as Andy’s doppelganger took his coffee and departed the establishment.

He couldn’t let it go. Catching up, he called, “Andy.”

The man turned back to him. A smile flickered over his expression. “No. Not me.”

Sipping his coffee, the Andy twin turned and hastened away.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

The water wheel turns and drops us into Saturday, June 25, 2023. June, precious boys and girls, is reaching the end of its walk. 2023 is over halfway through its life cycle.

Summer has arrived in Ashlandia, where the rock is old and the musicians are young. 59 F now, 84 F is within our reach if we but try — as if we can make it happen. Maybe we could but it’d need a collective will, and this isn’t the era of collective will. Small collective wills emerge to turn events but overall, we disagree on how and where we should direct our collective will.

Thunderstorms yesterday. My wife reported that she was outside reading in the back when they arrived. Tucker was to one side, in the yard, napping. Rain splattered down. She hurried in. Tucker didn’t even stir. Papi was already in the house, asking, “Did you hear those boomers? Wake me when it’s over.” He then stretched out in the dining room, where he was when I arrived. Wasn’t asleep, though. Nah, not when boomers are thudding and rumbling.

Sunrise today is about 5:33 AM in Ashlandia, and we’ll see the sun’s tail end at 8:52 PM. Only a matter of seconds difference from the ‘longest day of the year’ experienced on solstice, which is about the sunlight hours and not the day’s length, right? Can we all agree that the day remains roughly 24 hours? Today is 23 hours, 59 minutes, 59.9993680 seconds, if you’re wondering. h/t to timeanddate.com

I watched the first episode of “My Life As A Rolling Stone” last night. That one focused on Mick Jagger, one of the primary song writers, lead vocalist, and frontman of the band. Naturally The Neurons became very excited. “Oh, I know this song! And this one, too. And I remember this one.” Can’t say which is my favorite Rolling Stone ditty but “I Can’t Get No (Satisfaction)” is memorable for waking up my sleeping rock ‘n roll sensibilities waaayyy back in the mid 1960s, when I was getting more understanding ’bout who I was. So the song is logged into my morning mental music stream today where it hums ’round and ’round. The selected video epitomizes rock ‘n roll, too, with a large screaming crowd, Mick and the boys in strange attire, balloons dropping on everyone, and a fan rushing the stage only to get clocked by the guitarist, Keith. And the song played on.

Stay pos and keep being your fetching self. Coffee has been served for the faithful. Let’s get ready to ride. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

As we slept, the overlords declared, “This will be Friday, June 23, 2023. Let us see how they take to the change.” So far as I can tell, the reality shuffle didn’t to anything to me, other than that flash in the night when the date and time was established. When you think about it, moving billions of people to another reality is impressive, especially as it takes so little energy and effort. They siphon off less than a quarter teaspoon of the needed energy off of every individual being shifted. Leaves a few people feeling groggy, sure. That’s why the overlords introduced us to coffee.

It’s a warmish June morning, 53 F right now. Heading up the scale to 80 F today. Thunderstorms were being mentioned yesterday when the weather they talked about the forecast. That word left their vocabulary now. Probably because they weren’t expecting the reality shift. Few usually are.

I was chatting with friends the other night. One is an unbridled cat fellow. The other is the father of a daughter who fosters. That’s what started the entire chat; she’d sent pix to him of her new foster. She’d already had a little singleton she was bottling feeding and bringing along. This week, another singleton was introduced so the poor little fellow has a play and cuddle buddy.

Remembering this convo this morning prompted The Neurons to inject David Bowie’s “Cat People (Putting Out Fires)” from 1982. A little rock, techno, and glam folded together, it was written for the movie, Cat People. Wouldn’t say the song is a ‘usual’ Bowie recipe; he frequently reinvented himself. No telling what he would come up with the next time a song or album was released.

Fire up your corporeal being. Stay pos. Drink some coffee, tea, etc., right? Something to light the body and spirit’s burners. Here’s the music. Liftoff.

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Thursday’s Wandering Thought

He’d been thinking about a song earlier, a childhood favorite, reflecting, it’d been a log time since he’d heard it. Then he entered the car and headed to the coffee shop to write. Presto, the song came on the radio. Such delight. Such serendipity.

For the record, the song is “Lola”, straight out of 1970, when he was fourteen, by the Kinks. Just remembering that, he was right there, on the rear patio of the house on Laurie Drive in Penn Hills, enjoying summer sunshine with his friends and sisters.

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Monday’s Theme Music

June showers bring chilly temperatures. It’s Monday, June 19, 2023. Raining. Started about midnight and has been singing from the skies since. 45 F. Not heavy stuff, but still wet and, sporadic. High today will be about 55 F. Yes, here comes summer.

Big battle between our house floofs at 4 AM. Tucker likes to sleep in front of the pet door. Papi enjoys going in and out said pet door. I can only imagine what the ignitor looked like for this incident but battling high notes snapped me out of sleep and launched me across the room yelling, “Hey,” once in a loud and irritated voice. That voice always stops their actions. Learned it in the military as a senior NCO. Worked there, too.

Lot of fur, mostly Papi’s, was left behind. Neither seemed injured. They’d separated themselves. I isolated them for a while as cool down and closed the pet door for business. Letting in cold air anyway. They’re in the house, Tucker asleep back on a bed, Papi asleep on the sofa.

I was remembering a friend this morning. Something about the weather and date triggered thoughts of him. About a year older than me, he passed away seven years ago. An interesting guy and fun to be around. Big Van Halen fan. So after thinking about him as I tended to morning duties and requirements, The Neurons kicked in a Van Halen song, “Runaround” from 1991. Don’t know why they slipped that Van Halen offering into the morning metal music stream. Randy enjoyed watching it being performed while smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer. He’d be outside, window open, watching through it, as smoking in the house wasn’t permitted. The song’s words make little sense. Lots of innuendo but it’s all about Eddie and the guitar, isn’t it?

Stay pos, if and when you can. Bounce back if you fall. I’m about to embrace a cup of coffee and study the rainfall for a bit. Then it’s get up and move, move, move.

Here’s the tune. Cheers

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Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

I’m beginning a new DYI. Our GE Profile dishwasher stopped delivering the desired efficacy. Six years old, though, very old in modern appliance age, I guess it’s showing its age. Troubleshooting was done last night and I think I’ve identified the problem. Repair plans are in place for later today. Since the dishes were still dirty after three washings, my wife and removed the dishes. She washed them, then we dried and put them away.

I remembered when Mom bought her first dishwasher. A white portable unit with a faux blonde wood top. This was in the late sixties when we lived on Laurie Drive in Penn Hills, PA. Purchased from Sears, I think it was a Kenmore but I’m not pos.

The dishwasher was on wheels. She parked it over beside the backdoor where its top was useful for storing napkin holders and the salt and pepper shaker, along with pens and a notepad for the phone. Cherry red, the phone had been updated to a pushbutton device. Hung on the wall separating the kitchen and dining room, the phone had an extra long cord which let Mom cradle it against her ear as she cleaned, cooked, or sat at the dining room table or in the living room.

Her new dishwasher really pleased Mom. She employed it every night after dinner. Eventually life forced her to move, several times as it turned out as fortunes waxed and waned. Eventually the dishwasher was sold. She lamented its absence and when she finally bought a house for herself a decade later, my sisters and I came together and bought her a new portable dishwasher. Eventually, my brothers-in-law, both in construction, renovated her house for her, including the kitchen, and the dishwasher was installed under the sink, where it remains.

As I remembered all this and talked with my wife, she pointed out that her Mom never had a dishwasher. Always did it by hand. We often ‘did the dishes’ as it’s phrased when we were visiting.

Funny thing about dishwasher one and two. Neither gave her any problems through all those years, even though that second one has now been in service for almost thirty years.

Different times, friends, different times.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

After popping the appropriate meds, we woke up as humans on June 15, 2023, a Thursday. As none of us remembered popping the meds, except poor Gerard, all was well. A technical glitch saw the sky as green and the grass and trees were blue, but that was fixed. Everyone but Gerard was given another med to fix their memories.

It’s cool again in Ashlandia this morning, rising from the 40s F to the mid 50s F now. Blue sky now, completely unbroken by clouds. Last night was also clear of clouds and full of astronomical wonders, great to admire as I called Papi. The ginger lord had broken our agreement and was MIA for a while despite calls for his return. He showed up after two plus hours, tall up, happily greeting me as though nothing was amiss, asking for lovin’ and kibble. How could I scold that face? He was back and that mattered.

The Neurons have piped “Yer So Bad” (1989) by Tom Petty into the morning mental music stream. Yes, it’s about Papi. I told him, you’re so bad, and The Neurons said, “You got it, boss.” They always hear a order or request to start a song, whether one was given or not, but they never hear the order/request to stop. I always enjoyed this song’s lyrics about the singer’s sister and her marriage to a yuppie. Some of the later Travelin’ Wilburys songs reminded me of this song. Not a huge surprise, given that Petty is Charlie T. Wilbury, Jr., and Jeff Lynne, who played on the song and produced it, is Otis Wilbury.

Stay pos, fresh and chill. Use coffee. Coffee; it’s what’s for breakfast. Also good for snacks. Here’s the tune.

Adios

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