Friday’s Theme Music

Good mornin’. It’s Friday again, March 24, 2023, for the first time, we think.

Shakers of snow have spilled in several places. Tiny flakes laze from a pewter sky. Sun arrived a while again but the clouds have the numbers. 34 F now, the weather lizards explained with great showmanship it will reach 44 F.

Snow earned the cats’ disapproval. Tucker ate and found a warm space. Papi checked the front, back, front, back, front, back, front, back, and finally accepted that no comforting levels of sunshine could be found. Whiskers drooping in disapproval, he’s lounging on the sofa.

Meanwhile, I’ve retreated to the office with a cuppa coffee. With little solar energy feeding me, I needed a brew stat. Musically, The Neurons have imposed some Green Day in the morning mental music stream. I’m listening to “Holiday” (2005). Written in the aftermath of 9/11 and the retaliatory war started by Dubya’s administration, the songwriter was pissed and let fly his feelings. I shared them, because we were warned about WMD even though just months before, Colin Powell was reassuring us they weren’t there. Cheney had a different feel for it and added by Curveball, pushed for the war. They said it was gonna be a cake walk. Said it would pay for itself. Sure. Yeah, it was all dressed up very pretty in patriotism and UN resolutions, but it never made sense. Still does not.

Here’s the music. I wish you all a happy Friday. Stay pos. Cheers

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Today is Wednesday, March 22, 2023. That means it’s World Water Day! Children around the world celebrate as water fairies come to them at night and throw water on them. Parents don’t know about the water fairies and accuse the children of wetting themselves. “It was the water fairies,” the children protest. “Don’t lie to me,” parents reply. “There are no water fairies.”

The parents, sadly, are right. No water fairies exist. That’s why we have this international observance. From Wikipedia.org, “World Water Day is an annual United Nations (UN) observance day held on 22 March that highlights the importance of fresh water.” Many around the world don’t have regular access to fresh water, a number that the UN puts at 1 out of every 4. True in the United States, too, which many proudly claim as the world greatest nation. Drought, overuse, and pollution has damaged or destroyed water supplies in the U.S. We’re trying to build them back up and be smarter in our use, but it takes a nation, and we’re pretty divided on matters, even matters like water.

The sun climbed over the hills and mountains east of Ashlandia at 7:08 this morning and will disappear over the Earth’s curvature at 7:26 this evening. Puffy, flat, fragmented white clouds obscure the sun and blue sky. It’ll rain today, the weather fornicators inform us. Current temp is 42 — F, you know — and it’ll climb into the upper fifties, despite the clouds and rain. Not much rain will fall, less than a twentieth of an inch. Upon hearing this, the house floofs, Tucker and Papi, demanded to be let out to enjoy the day before the rain arrived. Smart cats. Yeah.

With talk about rain and water, The Neurons have poured a long list of songs about the subjects into the morning mental music stream. Think about it and you’ll probably find some favorites of your own about rain or water. Elvis P., Deep Purple, Simon and Garfunkel, CCR, BJ Thomas, Joey Bishop, Billy Joel, the Eurythmics, Tina Turner, Eric Clapton, the Beatles, are among the many who had rain or water songs. Those are performers from the first half of my life. Add to them the many, many performers who added more, such as Avril Lavigne, Billie Eilish, and Adele. Rain, water, etc., is a popular theme for music.

In the end, I went with Radiohead, “High and Dry”, 1995. Just like its vibe. Good reflective song, and a solid addition to a cup of coffee.

Stay pos. Begin with the end in mind and make Wednesday worth remembering. I have my coffee, thanks, but I might get a warmer. Stay strong. Here’s the beats.

SPECIAL NOTE: The clouds overtook the sun and the cats have returned to inside the house. Cheers

A Better Dream

While yesterday morning’s dreams upset and depressed me, I found a dream from last night reassuring and energizing. My wife and I were driving in my old Chevy Camaro, a 1968 copper-hued RS with a black vinyl type, black stripes, and a sweet 327.

We were racing down a highway toward a project. The sun was in my eyes, so I constructed a hat with a pole sticking out from it and a small saucer on the end. I’d tilt and turn my head to use the saucer to protect my eyes. Something humorous was written on the saucer and on my hat, subject: beer, but I remember it not. When people read it in the dream, they laughed.

We reached our destination and parked. The project underway involved baking a ton of bread. We were volunteers, working with a local group. Another organization had loaned us their building for the day, a rambling, ramshackle school and industry combo. Built of bricks, following a form follows function straightforward style, inside was a maze of tiled halls and rooms. We found the folks we were working with and began producing bread. It was an odd process of holding small brown balls under a duct until the duct sucked it up. Somewhere/sometime after that, bread was made and delivered elsewhere in the building.

We were put on a break while they checked to see if we’d made our quota of bread. As we stood about and chatted, I spotted smoke coming out of the duct up by the ceiling. I pointed that out, and then flames appeared. A fire extinguisher was brought forward but we were waiting for someone to bring a ladder so we could reach the flames. Meanwhile, the flames were spreading, so I took the fire extinguisher and put out the flames. The guy arrived with the ladder, climbed up and gave it additional precautionary sprays.

We were still waiting for them to tell us we were done but my wife and I were bored and decided to leave. We ran down the halls like children, encountering grade-school children coming in to go to classes. Out into a hot, sunny day, we jumped into the Camaro and took off.

Construction was encountered. Don’t know exactly what was going on, but I kept going at a reduced speed over churned mud. A guy working a machine was met. He would work a little and I would drive a little. I finally reached my turn and pulled off. We were planning to have lunch. Children and cats were running around. I encountered an old teacher of mine. Wearing a red sweater and a skirt, she sat down on a green park bench and invited me to join her. I did, and she started asking me about NFL offensive linemen. I tried changing the subject and then my wife came up and told me we needed to go.

Dream end

Monday’s Theme Music

It’s a draggin’ Monday. Speaking personally. How else can I speak. Also, it’s a metaphorical speaking, cuz I’m writing.

Monday. March 20, 2023. A series of depressing dreams left me depressed. I feel tired from it all.

The sun managed some light between clouds and rain at 7:14 this morning. Temperature is 36 F with a high of 56 F stealing in. Ashlandia’s sunset, famous around the world for its stupendous resemblance to other landlocked places surrounded by moderate mountains, will be at 7:23. Other than when people are up at one of the mountain wineries sampling a flight, folks rarely mention our sunsets, except for those times when wildfires’ nasty air rewards us with interesting colors.

It’s been raining, and it’s going to rain. As can be expected, it’ll also be mostly cloudy.

I thought I needed a little goofiness infused so I challenged The Neurons to come up with something. They gifted me “Don’t Let’s Start” by They Might Be Giants. The song was released in 1977, but ten years later, in Germany, Bob and I were discussing it at a party, pleased that we knew the song. The convo started when Bob said, “Don’t, don’t, let’s not start,” referencing work, and I replied, “Don’t, don’t, let’s start, this is the worst part.” He told me later, he felt it cemented our friendship.

Alright, coffee is here, and Papi is back in the house, after checking the weather outside — the sun is actually now out, he says, but it’s boring. Stay pos as best as you can. Here’s the music. Cheers

Friday’s Theme Music

I began the day by asking GPT4 via Bing to write about Ashland, Oregon today. Here is the response.

Ashland is a city in southern Oregon that is known for its cultural and natural attractions. Today, the weather was cloudy and cold, with a high of 45°F and a low of 27°F1Some of the things that people could do today in Ashland were visiting the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, hiking in Lithia Park, exploring the ScienceWorks Hands-On Museum, or enjoying the local cuisine and art2Today was also a day of news for Ashland, as some Starbucks workers continued their fight to unionize3, the Mail Tribune announced its closure after 115 years of operation4, and a bill to create a guaranteed income program for Oregon sparked debate5.

It’s interesting, like a school paper. Doesn’t tell me the day or my favorites, sunrise and sunset. Told me a news summary and the weather.

A number of things prompted my choice. I’ve been using GPT4 via Bing for about two weeks. Getting into dialogues with it is interesting. Meanwhile, Creativindie.com used GPT4 to write some science fiction. Here’s a sample.

Beneath the cathedral of indigo heavens, where constellations danced like divine jewels, a solitary figure traversed the twilight realm. The forest, an intricate tapestry of shadows and whispers, bore witness to his journey. His gait, a melody of steps whispered into the hallowed earth, carried him onward like a specter of dreams.

The air, heavy with the scent of ancient secrets and verdant life, caressed the wanderer’s face. Gossamer strands of otherworldly mist, entwined in the tresses of nocturnal blooms, played with the edges of his cloak. Above, the moon, a luminous pearl suspended amidst the cosmos, bathed the world in ethereal opalescence.

The wanderer’s eyes, twin oceans of liquid azure, were imbued with a tale of a time long forgotten, and his heart resonated with an unyielding determination. He bore the weight of an untold legacy upon his shoulders, a mantle woven from the threads of fate and chance. His destination shimmered like a mirage on the horizon, a promise, a whisper of hope as ephemeral as the morning dew.

End GPT4

Any thoughts?

Let the record establish that this is Friday, March 17, 2023. Sol spread sunny wealth across the winting land at 7:20 and twelves hours later, sunset takes place at 7:20. It’s an Ashlandia equinox. It’s St. Patrick’s Day. I don’t celebrate it as I once did. Not even wearing green…yet. I’ll don green fleece, I suppose.

Personally, in another sign of life and progress, my niece’s 38th birthday is today. She has three boys of her own now. It’s one of those holy-cow moments.

I have Harry Nilsson and “Jump Into the Fire” from 1971 in the morning mental music stream. This is because the drummer on the song, Jim Gordon, passed away this week, 77 years old. Suffering some issues, he’d murdered his mother and died in a medical and psychiatric prison.

I feel like a good day has begun. Stay pos. Coffee has been tested and approved for my consumption this morning. Of course, I’m self-regulated – inspector, tester, approver. Now strong checks and balances built into this system.

Here’s the music. Cheers

Thursday’s Theme Music

Light and shadows tangoed on the bedroom walls. The wind had come up and at 7:24 AM, the sun showed it. Working together, they had the trees dancing.

It’s Thursday, March 16, 2023. A Sunday pizza party is on for a few friends. One of them likes organizing this about every five to six months. Just a get-together to eat, chat, and see faces. Three couples, six faces.

It’s 42 degrees F at my Ashlandia place. Blue skies. Sunset will be at 7:16 this evening. Till then, the temperature will go up the numbers until finding 44 F.

Just finished reading a couple booksWe Are Legion (We Are Bob), The Chalk Circle Man — and am starting The Thursday Murder Club and Full. Contacting contractors is in the to-do list for various house improvements and repairs, since it’s March and the weather should become acceptable for these things to be done, like painting the house and repairing a window. And isn’t it interesting that ‘contractor’ is one of those words that end in ‘-or’ instead of ‘er’?

The cats are out. They like the sunshine and warmer temps but dislike the wind. Neither are wind fans. I expect one to start beating on the door at any moment.

“Nowhere Man” by the Beatles (1965) is stuck in the morning mental music stream. I don’t know if The Neurons desposited them or some other agency. No clue as to the why it’s playing. I’ve used it as theme music before and wrote about it then so I’ll not re-state all that. Just seems to fit some mode today. Maybe I feel like I’m nine again on some level. I chose this video they took about doing the song and then perform it in a ‘live’ setting, comparing it to the notes ingrained in my head. I’ve always been intrigued by the differences between studio recordings and how the band play it live.

Some of the catalyst for “Nowhere Man” might be the text exchanges with Mom. I’m asking her about the inspiration for her children’s names and the story behind my own. Michael wasn’t first choice. Anyway, I’d known a few of those stories and was surprised that the story was different this time. Did I mis-remember or is she telling it differently? I go with the latter. Either way, it’s a little bummer that what I recall isn’t what I hear now, because one of us is changing their tale.

Here’s the music. Hope you enjoy it. I’m off to let the cats in and get coffee. Stay pos, and carpes Thursday. Cheers

Friday’s Theme Music

White billows of clouds push and pull across the blue sky. Sunshine bullies the southern and eastern views. “Gorgeous,” the cats say.

I agree with them. This Friday, March 10, 2023, it’s 39 F outside but sunny, with a high of 50 expected. Showers for the next five days, the weather minions tell me with a wink. Highs about 50 F, low of 36. Ashlandia’s weather is sliding closer to its norm. The winds have settled into an infrequent light breeze, but they gave us a rainy tussle yesterday, shoving people around, fighting against car doors being shut, trying to rip hats and clothes off, and mangling umbrellas.

Today’s sun presence began at dawn, a little before 6:32 AM, and will continue for almost twelve hours. All that changes on Sunday. We’re springing ahead. Sunrise won’t be until 7:30 then, but we’ll have more shine on the day’s tail end. Of course, it means less sleep because if I get up at my usual time, it’ll be an hour later.

I have the song, “Magic”, by Pilot (1973) in my head. Dream stuff. In the dream, I was going through an almost empty city looking for magic. While it was a modern city, I wore dusty old white robes, bit torn, with sandals, and had been walking for a long time. At first, I didn’t know what I was looking for but then, in the dream, it came to me, I’m looking for magic. With that, I started the air for magic, following my nose, letting it lead me, and then looking. I came across others and spoke to them about it, and sometimes cars would drive by, but no one was helping me. I stayed on my own. Then, voila, walked around a corner. There was a aluminum briefcase against the wall. With some surprise, I knew it was mine. I thought I’d lost it years before. Opening it, I found magic.

Thinking about the dream later, I kept wondering what did I see in the briefcase that I knew it was magic? But, like the movie Pulp Fiction, I never saw the briefcase’s contents. Gold didn’t come out of my briefcase, though, and I never thought or said it was beautiful. Then, though, The Neurons came through with Pilo out of my childhood.

Stay pos. This is Friday. Pretty exciting, huh? Well, all kinds of approaches can be employed for Friday. Me, it’s Friday, time to write again, woo-hoo. That just might be my coffee shouting. I’ve had a cup already.

Here’s the song. Cheers

Thursday’s Theme Music

Windy is the weather word for today. Windy, as in lots of wind, and it’s gonna get intense. Not hurricane, cyclone, tornado, or typhoon level, no. But hold onto your hats. Or tie them on tight.

Today is Thursday, 3/9/2023. Temperature is 42. We lack snow, fog, and rain at the moment. We offer blue sky, white clouds, and sunshine on this Ashlandia morning. The sun was coming up at 6:33 AM, when Papi did his seal bark to demand exit number three. The window beating to come back in was at 7:05. Ashlandia’s sunset comes at 6:10. We’ll be up to 42 F by then.

Papi is back out now, sitting on the porch, glaring at the wind, very dismayed with the weather. He’ll be wanting back in soon, and then will rest so that he’s fresh for his nightly needs. He is off, victimized by the book club visitors last night. Papi is not one to socialize with people or animals. He’s a loner. When they arrived, he retreated to the master BR and sulked on the bed, listening for one of them attempting to sneak up on him. He’s knockin’ to get back in now. Excuse me.

Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to be gone so long. Had to pay the floof tax and tell him how smart and handsome he is until he said, “Enough,” and dashed off. Those of you with floofs will understand.

Papi is a neat and clean cat, though. Not a fur out of place. Any out of place furs are immediately shed. It’s quite a system.

I dreamed I was trying to remember who sang “Baby Blue”, a song which came out in 1971. As part of my dream effort, I kept watching a black and white static-filled TV screen while older me shouted at younger me, “Bad Finger. It’s Bad Finger.” Younger me would not listen, but kept muttering, “Bad Company?” Arrgh.

It’s a walking song in the morning mental music stream today. Out yesterday, walking today. Winting is back and the sun and cold wind medley was enhanced by things trying to figure out if they should bloom now. All very pleasant, however. Reminded me of youthful moments. The Neurons tossed a Grand Funk song, “I’m Your Captain (Closer to Home)” from 1970 into the mix. It’s a song I often recalled when walking or driving and getting close to home. I often traveled in my youth, and then again in the military, and then again in marketing.

That’s enough of that, I’m sure. Stay pos. Treat Thursday like a golden opportunity and do your thang. Peace out.

Monday’s Theme Music

They told us it would be snowing again on Monday morning, but wow. Sunshine is splashing the land like champagne at a championship celebration. I’m digging it. So are the purr beasts.

Temperature, we’re looking at 42 F, up from overnight stays at 26. 42, the weather theorists say, will be our high today. This glorious sun entered the scene at 6:38 and sunset will come at 6:07 on the PM end. Not bad for Monday, March 6, 2023.

I’ve been reading/writing, assisting spouse with house-cleaning needs. She’s hosting her book club this month. Originally known as ‘The Number One Ladies’ Book Club’, inspired by the set of novels they were reading at that time, they don’t go by that name any longer. They’re just the book club.

Everything presented to the public has been cleaned for the book gathering. I am not permitted to be present. Standard rule across all the households. Members only, and they’ve decided, for purposes of dynamics, to keep it female only. New members ask to join and that’s thoroughly debated as the candidate is vetted. They’ve been doing this for fifteen years, I think. They rotate roles. Each month, one serves as host, another is moderator, and a third selected the book. These roles are established by requests, volunteering, discussing, and voting in December. Several original members have dropped out or moved away. One member passed away. Cancer. Don’t know what their median age is, but the cast includes retired accountants, teachers, nurses, administrators, and fitness instructors. The book club cooking phase will commence tomorrow. The meeting is Wednesday. They meet once a month.

I do get to participate vicariously through discussions with my wife as she reads and thinks about the books and researches the authors. I’ll read many of the books as well as the discussions draw me in.

An off-the-cuff remark to my spouse excited The Neurons. They responded with thoughts and music about Pandora’s Box. With a little mental dithering, I addressed the two different pop songs I know by that name. They’re wholly different. The Aerosmith version was released in 1974, and it’s a raunchy rocker. Procol Harum’s piece followed a year later, and as expected, takes a little more cerebral approach. I’ll include both today, and you can decide works as your Monday theme music.

Coffee is being enjoyed as I type. Stay positive and use your day as best as you can. Don’t be one of those who sit back at the end and say, “Well, I wasted that day.” Never a good feeling. Sometimes happens, but I try to avoid it if I can.

Here are the tunes. Cheers

Flooformation

Flooformation (floofinition) – 1. Animal’s ability to change its look, attitude, or behavior.

In use: “Crystal was a sweet little Bombay black with a softly questioning meow, a deeply happy purr, and the most gorgeous black velvet fur. She loved sleeping on laps, but the first sound of an animal fight brought a flooformation into baleful-eyed ninja cat, terrifying other animals — and humans who got in her way.”

2. A change to an animal brought about by care, patience, and/or medical assistance.

In use: “His first years in the neighborhood, Tucker was identified as a black and white terror, a beast unwilling to back down and eager to bring it on. Dental work, patient words, and a home to call his, and his flooformation into a doting lap cat began.”

3. The standard pecking order or line up shared by animals.

In use: “When Michael took the cats for a walk at night — his three, with the neighbor’s big orange cat joining them — they always used the same flooformation, Jade on point, Rocky and Sammy flanking her, and the neighbor cat finishing the diamond as a rear guard. With Michael setting the pace and direction, the five moved as one.”

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