Thursday’s Theme Music

Out in the backyard last night, breathing in the quiet and cool air, looking for stars through the clouds. A cat twined around my legs and then did a tuck and roll, stretching out for a belly rub.

Lyrics from a Smashing Pumpkin song, “Tonight, Tonight” (1996) came to mind. I’d just retired from the military the year before and was in my first civilian position ever as an adult. It was a bit different, and I was questioning myself and my plans back in that era.

And you know you’re never sure
But you’re sure you could be right
If you held yourself up to the light

And the embers never fade


Funny, but I’m still questioning myself and my plans, in this era. ‘Nuff said.

Beginning Puzzle #9

There was box on the front porch mat. 

I’d been in the office for a while. To get to the front porch, the office must be passed. The office has a large window which faces the street, driveway, and walk, so that I can watch for zombies and aliens. The phantom deliverer was either invisible or a ninja.

Ninja Delivery – “When you don’t want people to see it coming.”

I informed my wife of the find. She was as surprised as me. “I didn’t hear a truck or anything.”

Anything, I guess, were footfalls. I was nodding, but thinking, at what point had I been dashing around the house naked? I used to do it often, less so after the Okinawa Incident.

We were stationed at Kadena Air Base on Okinawa (or in Okinawa Prefecture), Japan. As we were lowly enlisted people, we were residing off-base. There wasn’t enough housing for everyone on base. We enjoyed our little apartment. Two of them could fit into our great room, the cathedral-ceiling living-dining-kitchen combo in our current house. The whole place was like an Easy Bake kitchen blown up by about four times.

Living there was fun. The place was full of couples like us. Typhoon parties were lively, although the walls were thin. The newlyweds’ loud and energetic coupling brought everyone in the neighborhood over to ensure no one was being killed. Space between apartment buildings and houses were tight. I chose that day after showering to turn on music and dance around naked, entertaining my wife and the cats.

I was also entertaining three third-grade girls on the porch next door, just five feet away from the bedroom where I gyrated…until I saw them. High on music, by the time I’d noticed them, they were sneaking away. I’m sure I shocked them for life.

Since the Okinawa Incident, I’ve been more careful about dancing around the house naked. My wife still calls if she’s coming home and bringing someone along, though. It’s safer for everyone.

I’d not danced around that day, but I had stripped naked for a shower and then remembered that I’d wanted to check on something in the office. What the hell, what are the chances of someone being outside and looking in just as naked me sauntered by?

Yet, my mind summoned an image of the UPS guy hurrying to the door, preparing to ring the bell, package in hand, and seeing me through one of the windows on either side of the door. As he’s ready to ring the bell, my nude man-feast passes by the window. Averting his eyes with a hard gulp, he mutters, “I’ll just leave this here,” and flees, head down, like someone’s shooting at him.

Anyway, I learned from checking tracking numbers on the Internet machine that these are the puzzles we’d ordered from Zulily. After letting the package sit outside for a few hours to lose some of its COVID-19 strength, I brought it in and put it in the sanitizing zone. When another day had passed, we deemed it safe to risk opening the package.

Oh, new puzzles. I was sure that they probably had all the pieces. One — fifteen hundred pieces (yeah, we’re getting bold) — featured a red Corvette. The year isn’t given, but I guess it’s a 1960. I had a neighbor who had one, and once rode in the trunk, so I was pretty sure about it. You don’t forget something like that.

“That’s a lot of red,” my wife said. I know she’s thinking of past puzzles that featured long stretches of blue sky, blue oceans, or green lawns.

We turned to the other one. It’s a lovely reproduction of a David Bradley painting with vivid colors and many details. I opened the box. The colors look true. Among the pieces were eyes, heads, and faces. That appealed to us; it’s easier to find faces and put them on heads than test red piece after red piece.

We began today, because it’s Sunday. An old wise woman once told us that it’s best to start new projects on a Sunday.

Damn, I just realize that she said Monday.

Or was it Friday?

Oh, well, what do days of the week matter during this period, when most of us are inside, hunkering down against zombies or alien invaders?

We have begun the puzzle.


The Luggage & Shoes Dream

First, the dream was in two parts. I dreamed part one, awoke, returned to sleep and had part two.

Second, it again involved military. I understand more about myself, though, like I’m terrible at socializing. The military with its rank and structure gave me a niche where I was comfortable.

In both dream parts, I was in civilian clothes and traveling alone (which I often did in the mil and civilian life, because of my specialized roles).

Part one had me arriving at a hectic place lousy with Army personnel. They were arriving and staging. All of them were in uniform. Many had down time and were waiting to move on. It was all out doors, and it was a mess.

For my part, I’d arrived, found a place for my two bags, left them, and headed off to find food. Then I’d figure out where I was to next go.

Well, after eating (which happened off-dream, apparently), I went to use a can. All the cans were out of order, which pissed me off (no pun intended). I wandered for a while in search of working facilities. I did find and use a shower, and then eventually discovered a working but filthy latrine.

I’d wandered a long way and had lost orientation, with no idea where I’d left my bags. I began that search. After a bit, I went up on a hill.

A person who used to work with me waved to me from up there. She came down to chat. She was traveling on a separate mission. I told her that I’d lost my bags and had to go look for them. Bored, with time to kill, she volunteered to come and help.

We went down the hill to a sort of ad hoc intersection. While there, she spotted a piece of paper fluttering on the ground. It looked like a set of orders. Picking it up, she read my name off it. She realized that it said something about what’d happened with my bags. With her leading, we went to see a man. She gave him the paper, and he (complaining as he did) gave me one of my bags. I was thankful, but she had to go. That was okay, though, because suddenly I completely knew where I was and went right to my second bag.

Awakening at that point, I thought about it all. The dream setting’s chaos and messiness bothered me, as did the fact that I couldn’t remember and find my bags on my own. I went back to sleep.

I was back in the same place, but order had been established. With chairs set up, all the troops were sitting in order. I had my bags, and the toilets were working. I also had food. We’d been provided with box lunches on the long flight over. I’d not eaten mine, so I had two big sandwiches along with other things to eat in a clear plastic bag that I was carrying.

On arriving, my feet hurt, so I removed my shoes and set the to one side. I had a rental car so I was basically going to eat and use the facilities and then hit the road. As I walked around, though, I worried about my hair not being in reg (I was notorious for that back in the day). I found the barbershop but it was busy. A commander and his staff passed by me. After deciding that I couldn’t do anything about my hair, I decided to eat and leave.

First, I wanted my shoes. I knew where I’d left them but they weren’t there. Irritated, I started searching for them. I spotted them in the middle of a wide, beaten dirt road. As I went to get them, an army PFC (female) was crossing the road and kicked one of my shoes. I yelled at her for that; she gave me a dirty look. I then got my shoes (loafers, as I was still in civies), put them on, and went to a table, where I sat down to eat.

End dream.

Friday’s Theme Music

Back in 1985, I was traveling frequently with the military. Based in South Carolina, I was a frequent visitor to California, Florida, Virginia, and New Jersey. Between them, I spent months in South Korea and Egypt, dashed through Spain, and part of a week in Belgium. This travel all revolved around war readiness planning and exercising.

Somewhere in those travels, I picked up on a song called “Live is Life”. I’d heard the song but didn’t know who did it. It didn’t seem to have much playtime in America. Eventually I hunted it down and discovered it was by Opus, from Austria.

Anyway, as I adjusted to today’s limited agenda and travel plans and admired spring’s growing presence outside, the song returned to me. It’s a jaunty song without deep lyrics, kind of odd as a rock song — more pop than rock –but it’s easy to sing.

The Lawyer Dream

Dreamed a lawyer was trying to seduce me. Blonde and female, she was young and friendly.

hadn’t started long that, though. First, she and several other young lawyers showed up. All were dressed in suits with trousers. She wore a gray suit with a white shirt. There may have been four in the beginning. They’d already to literally practice law by observing and doing mock cases. None were anyone that I know.

I was young and they were young. I wasn’t a lawyer. Seems like sometimes I was in the military but other times that I wasn’t, which amused me during the dream.

I found a place to sit on a secluded cement space just outside the courtroom area. The center was a courtroom; the rest was like a small arena. I wasn’t there to watch, but to rest and take a nap. The young lawyers arrived. I observed them but didn’t think much more about it than, “Look; young lawyers.” All were dressed neatly.

They came over to where I was seated and asked if they could sit there, too. Sure; I didn’t care. There was space. The blonde, and a slender, dark-haired white male, sat beside me. He was dressed in a blue suit with a white shirt and red and blue striped tie.

She was immediately adjacent to me. I had a blanket, and I told them that I was going to take a nap. They were fine with that. The mock trial started as I pulled my blanket up. The blonde said she was cold; would I mind sharing my blanket?

Sure, no problem. The trial continued. I was making comments about it because I knew the people involved, which surprised the lawyers. I shrugged it off; it was just stuff that I knew. The blonde cuddled up against me. As I drifted toward sleep, her hands roved over me. She began kissing me.

Amused, I chatted with her about it. She told me that she wanted me. I told her that I was flattered but I was going to pass. She was understanding. She went off to get something. Her friend told me that the blonde really liked me. The whole thing amused me, as it was so much like high school.

One mock trial ended. I was going off to another area. He wanted to walk with me. “Sure, come on.”

We left the courtroom arena. Now we were inside an enormous atrium attached to a tall, large building. I knew that I was on the eleventh floor. We could look down and see other sidewalks and bridges, all of it connecting buildings, all of it inside. I was chatting with the lawyer, who was young, bright, and friendly. He was also gay, he told me. Well, cool, fine he was friendly and polite person, so what’s orientation have to do with anything?

He wasn’t sure how to get to the next courtroom, so I took him there. We arrived, and as we were chatting, the judges arrived. Two were previous commanders of mine, 0-6 colonels. They greeted me, making jokes about things, hamming it up for the others beginning to arrive.

I took me leave as others arrived. The blonde female lawyer arrived dressed in a tight, dark-blue dress. She kissed me hello, told me that she had a room nearby, and suggested that we go. I let her take my hand and lead me away.

The dream ended.

Today’s Theme Music

Dreamed about a Chev. Corvette last night. My Dad and I were in it. I was driving it first. We stopped at a store. People complimented us on the car. I told everyone that it was his, and most people said, “Yes, I had that impression.”

I’ve had similar Corvette dreams before, but it put a Corvette song in my head. Prince’s 1983 song was “Little Red Corvette”, but that’s what came to mind this morning as I was thinking about the dream.

I vividly remember hearing “Little Red Corvette” while stationed on Okinawa. (I was assigned to the 603d MASS on Kadena AB, 1981-1985.) We’d gone to McDonald’s on a whim because we were going to have some corn soup. Standing outside in sunshine afterward, “Little Red Corvette” was playing on a car radio beside us. We were talking about going to the American Bakery for dessert. It’s a strangely vivid moment in life.

Saturday’s Theme Music

Planning the day, thinking about doin’ a little drivin’, I thought of Sniff n’ the Tears.

Don’t know much about this band. I could look them up, but I didn’t. I remember listening to the radio somewhere on a Texas Interstate, coming back from Austin (we lived in on Randolph Air Force Base, just outside of San Antonio) and hearing this song, “Drivers’s Seat” on the radio. And the announcer – it was the weekly countdown – said, “That was Sniff n’ the Tears moving up in the countdown.” My friends and I, hearing that band’s name, started laughing, and then we were coming up with other band names.

Anyway, the song mentions being doin’ a little drivin’ on a Saturday, which I’ll be doing. I’m sure many others will be out there. As they used to say on Hill Street Blues, “Let’s be careful out there.”

Thursday’s Theme Music

A double-whammy brought this song into the stream this morning. First were dreams about photographs. Then, as I’m sitting at my desk thinking about the dreams, I see a photograph of my wife on the desk. Taken of her in Christmas, 1981, it was our first Christmas in Okinawa, Japan. A note on the back in her writing says, “I was sick as a dog.” She looks wonderful, though, in a bright purple short-sleeved top. Her hair is bobbed short, as she wore it for a number of years.

Between the dreams and memories, Ringo Starr’s old hit song, “Photograph” (1973) arose. About the only thing in common between the song’s lyrics and sentiment, the dream, and the photograph on the desk is that word, photograph. Everything else is quite different.

Wednesday’s Theme Music

I was ’bout to go outside (and let a cat out) (it’s Boo’s morning habit to go out, do his business in a corner of the yard (the far left side behind the bushes, thank you), and then groom in sunshine) (unless it’s raining or snowing, of course) to gauge the weather (it looks pleasant and warm) when I stopped. Hand on door handle, I watched through the glass at a profusion of birds. The many birds me from opening the door and disrupting the little sparrows’ and jays entertainment.

Boo really wanted out, chittering and chattering at the birds (they were a joyfully noisy congregation). I wondered what’d brought them here.

The juxtaposition of birds and weather reminded me of an instrumental song, “Birdland” by Weather Underground (1977). I used to listen to this in the Philippines while burning candles, reading books, and sipping wine, a pleasure combo.

After the birds abruptly departed, I let the house panther (and jigsaw puzzle expert) out to do his thang, and then came in and re-acquainted myself with “Birdland”. That song always prompts a grin. Hope you hear it and grin, too.

Or at least, smile.

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