Tag: memories

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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Friday’s Theme Music

It’s raining again, a light falling, bringing up SuperTramp’s song from fifty years ago. Today is Jun 9, 2023. Friday. Last night’s thunderstorms skirting us. We could hear them like someone shouting from far away. “What?” You should back. “I don’t know what you’re saying.” You strain to hear and then just shake your head and walk away, muttering, “I can’t understand them.”

As for rain last night, it spit on us a bit a few times, but left us alone. Temperature topped 84 F locally, for the record.

Of course, yesterday started with a blue sky. Blue is as rare today as snow on a summer lawn. Clouds of different colors, depths and textures, ranging from flat white with a tincture of gray to billowing, curly, unkempt clouds edgy with dark pockets, have blanketed the sky. It’s 61 F now and the weather gurus tell us 79 will be the high, and there will be rain and thunderstorms later today. As always with weather, we’ll see.

Several songs inhabit the morning mental scream. “Wipe Out”. “Sweat Pea”. The Neurons are mixing weather, writing, and dream inputs. But I went with the song which came up after the dream sequences finished, “Fly Like An Eagle” by The Steve Miller Band, 1976.

Hope you stay pos and enjoy a most excellent Friday. I’m enjoying a most excellent cup of coffee. Establishes my baseline for the day. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Summer’s prelude to summer in Ashlandia has settled into a new weather routine. Blue sky. Plentiful sunshine. Cool, 50s to 60s F, in the morning. Rising to high 70s, low 80s by mid-afternoon. Roll in some clouds. Cue the thunder. Spark some lightning. Now, turn on the rain. Repeat for a few hours.

This is Thursday, June 8, 2023. Yesterday afternoon and evening on the storms squatting on Ashlandia. The climax was a twenty minute deluge of big drops, dense, falling fast and hard. What’s striking about all this lightning (couldn’t resist), thunder, and rain is that it’s so rare for Ashlandia, especially of this intensity, duration, and repetition. But it’s been a growing trend in the last several years. It could be part of a larger cycle and we all just don’t live long enough to experience it, so it strikes us as odd. But it’s also a continuation of an odd weather year.

The cats aren’t pleased. The weather even brought Tucker in, who is usually indifferent to these things. Papi, though, decided the best place to be was with us in a lit room, awakening, waiting, ready to run, and willing to be comforted. Tucker decided that he’d be wherever Papi was.

We’re seeing a lot of deer on our street this week. Two bucks strolling up the street the other evening. Three or four deer — or maybe the same few again and again — wandering around our house and across the street at the neighbors. Well, no recent cougar sightings in our vicinity, so maybe that has something to do with it.

I stood in the front doorway last night, protected by the porch, to watch the rain. Not just watch, but breathe in the fresh petrichor, and enjoy the sounds. Lightning frequently flashed to enliven the experience. As I stood there, The Neurons fired up a 1981 song by The Rolling Stones, “Waiting On A Friend”. Song is still in the morning mental music stream. The Neurons made a good choice. The storm broke me out of my normal routines. The smells and sounds also made me nostalgic for similar times experienced around the world from different phases of life where I was waiting for a friend to arrive as part of our plans to go off somewhere.

Stay positive, and enjoy Thursday as only you can. I have coffee, so I’m pleased for the moment, sipping hot brew, windows breathing in cool air on my back, sunshine slinking around the house, cats wandering in and out to give news updates. Here’s the tune. Love the video’s end, when the band gets up to play in that tiny, tiny space. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Okay, that’s it, we’re takin’ it up a notch.

It’s 60 degrees F. Monday, 6/5/2023. Temp is gonna git up to 86 F today. This gradual climb by day of sunny heat is pleasant, acceptable. Heat isn’t crisping us to overcooked pizza crusts within a minute. Cool morning breezes descend from the mountains, whisper, it’ll be okay. We appreciate it.

Noisy out there. Air is lousy with work machinery noises. Don’t know where it’s from or who are the villians. Stirred me to arise — “Arise, arise” — and make flapjacks for breakfast. I always enjoyed the word, ‘flapjacks’, from childhood till now. The works isn’t easily pulled apart for morning. Not one of those expressions which you hear and immediately understand. See, like ‘pancake’, you have two familiars: pan and cake. Sounds already. ‘Flapjacks’ also have two familiars, flap and jack, but neither make me think food on their own merits. That doesn’t change by putting them together.

Got “(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love And Understanding” throbbing through the morning mental music stream. It’s a regular song in the rotation. Came to me while I was trimming bushes and doing odd jobs around the house. Far as I know, no particular activity or thinking was being done to cause The Neurons to say, “Hold up! We have the perfect song for the moment.” Nope, they just brought it on outta the blue. That’s how the mind sometimes works, hey?

While I was looking for a video to link, I saw another regular song I often hear in my head, “A Change Will Do you Good” by Sheryl Crow. As I listened to it for a bit, I saw that she’d done a version of Peace, Love, etc, so I dialed it up — yeah, I clicked on it. Her rendition became my choice for the day.

Be good out there. Be safe. Stay pos. Ima gonna pop down some coffee and go off with my wife to deliver Food & Friends. Then it’s on to writing, yardwork, housework, reading. Just finishing up reading Six of Crows. Really enjoying it.

Here we go. Let’s start with music and coffee. Cheers

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