Tag: military

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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Monday’s Theme Music

5/29/2023

Monday. Memorial Day in the US.

Another pause to honor the military who died in one of our wars.

How each individual arrived in military service begins in a personalized way, and is shaped by their heritage and disposition, education and religion. Propaganda drove people, as did politics and the norms of the day. What it meant to be a man. What freedom and independence means, the rights of individuals and the rights of nations. Some lacked choice; their number was called in a draft. Too many times as lights came on in the aftermath, lies were discovered as well as crimes against humanity. Sometimes those crimes were never prosecuted. Apologies came later.

War is simple — kill more of the rest and undermine their war-making abilities — and complex. Besides tales of atrocities, amazing stories of sacrifice and courage are revealed. Some become legendary, immortalized in books, movies, statues. Others become a name on a plaque. The most fortunate come back, intact as possible.

I served for over twenty years, a kid who walked in on his own, signed up and stayed. What I’ll say of my military brothers and sisters was the same as I’d say for most gatherings. There were some amazing men and women, many average people, a few troubled ones, and some you tried avoiding because they weren’t going do abide by any law or moral code the rest of us used.

Multiple songs about war, the military, and all the matters which those terms encumber came up in the morning mental music stream. The one which stayed with me is “One Tin Soldier” from 1969. Gaining fame from its use in the movie Billy Jack, the song is two stories; one about a war of aggression by one kingdom against another that was fueled by jealousy and envy. The other story being told is about rationalizing bending morality and your code to achieve whatever goal is set.

Go ahead and hate your neighbor
Go ahead and cheat a friend
Do it in the name of heaven
You could justify it in the end

There won’t be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgment day
On the bloody morning after
One tin soldier rides away

h/t to lyrics.com

Stay pos. My coffee is here. Release the hounds. Time to chase another day.

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Through the Years

1973 found me living in West Virginia, having moved there the previous year, after moving to Ohio from Pennsylvania, and a high school junior. Yeah, changes were underway.

1983 – an adult, in the military, married, stationed on Okinawa with trips to Korea, China, and Japan that year

1993 – still married and in the military, in Sunnyvale, California

2003 – retired from military but still married, living in Half Moon Bay, California, working for IBM

2013 – married and in Ashland, Oregon, still with IBM

2023 – Ashland, married, retired from everything except writing

Different places and careers through the years, but the same marriage since ’75

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

We’re into the week’s repeat cycle. Sunny. Blue and white sky. 35 F. High, 41. Winter warning out for later today. Snow down to 1500 feet. 1-3 inches. Sunrise a minute earlier than yesterday. Sunset a minute later today.

That’s the summary for March 7, 2023. Tuesday.

Got Foreigner’s “Double Vision” from 1978 in the morning mental music stream. Dream brought it on. Won’t encumber you with details. Actually, still sorting it. I will say that I don’t know how “Double Vision” is related.

1978 found me going from Texas to WV, from the military to a restaurant owner and a college student. Hectic period of searching for myself.

It’s a brief ‘un today. My annoyance meter is rising. Just one of those things. Happens once a month. Usually one to two days. Gets really dark sometimes. Don’t know in advance where it’ll fall.

Stay pos if you can. A sip of coffee awaits my lips. Have a better one. Cheers

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Someday’s Theme Music

Someday has come. Without work, without church, without routines save the one to get out and write again, my world has a narrow scope. Days on end seem the same, domino pieces with the same number of dots in the same order. Specifics like weather change, sometimes adding to the experience. Anyway, we’re planning a cruise — well, looking for one — after putting it off for a few years due to COVID. Just a small cruise, right, to feel the ocean’s roll and look at the expanse and remind myself how tiny I am. We’ll still working on our moving plans, but that’s going to consume a lot of energy. I’m not deeply into it yet.

It’s Sunday, Feb 5, 2023. Breakfast was already consumed, a bit of cantaloup and a cinnamon raisin bagel, and the coffee was drunk. News has been perused. Rain fell through the night, replenishing more local reservoirs and cisterns. Snow accumulates in the snowpack. 40 F now, under a gray crown, looking for 50 later. Sunrise and sunset are 7:20 AM and 5:30 PM. Celebrating a friend’s new grandchild, number four for him. He and his family are very pleased. I’m happy and excited because they’re happy and excited. It’s contagious stuff.

Didn’t sleep well, dealing with floofquests to go in and out, to be fed and petted, loved on and played with. They don’t want to recognize that I’m a day creature. “Come join us at night,” they urge.

“It’s dark and I can’t see,” I reply.

“Don’t worry, we’ll help you. Mind that hairball. It’s fresh.”

A bright moon was a break-out hit at one point. Outside with Papi, enjoying the fresh rain-enlivened air, Papi said, “See? There’s plenty of light. What is that over there? What the hell, I’m out of here.” He scurried back, leaving me standing there and staring, mumbling to myself, “What is it? I don’t see anything. Papi? Papi?”

I was also wringing hands over editing decisions and book directions, cursing my novel as a vile creature that needs to be buried. It’s all good, just the process. A looonnngggg process sometimes. Out of this, The Neurons have directed a song from the last century into the morning mental music stream. “Epic” by Faith No More was released in 1990. I was still assigned to Germany at the time, and the song was hugely popular with the troops rotating in as part of Desert Shield/Desert Storm. It was heard often and loud.

Here’s the music. Stay pos and enjoy Sunday as best as you can. I will. Sort of. Cheers.

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Monday’s Theme Music

The moon’s visit moved beyond normal to sublime. Sometimes a clear night hosts a moon that lights the night and finds something more primal and hopeful in the mind. Last night’s moon was one of these, romantic and inspirational, a moon with light that whispers, “the impossible is possible.” No wonder a moon like that is spoken of in sentences about magic, fairies, and spaceships.

It’s January 16, 2023. It’s Monday. It’s 30 degrees F and sunny. It’s calm. It’s a new week’s start. Happy New Week! Have you made any New Week resolutions? I have. Of course I have. I don’t do NY ones, but I do daily, weekly, and monthly resolutions. You only fail if you give up trying, am I right? Some people place the week’s start on Sunday. I consider Saturday and Sunday neutral ground. The week begins on Monday and ends on Friday.

The sun pressed its presence into our valley at 7:37 this morning, coming around like it’s nobody’s business. Daylight will light us up until about 5:05 this evening. Then the sun will set and bring on dusk, followed by night. The cold front will keep our high from getting much above 42 F. Some say that rain is due but the clouds for that job haven’t checked in. Snow is visible in far fields on high mountains, appearing like cake frosting on the ridges’ pines and firs. It’s a tranquil blue-sky sight.

News continues emerging about President Biden and the classified documents found at his home and office. This turn pisses me off more than Trump’s classified doc scandal. I thought Joe Biden was responsible and this oversight, this sloppiness, is infuriating. I was in the Air Force for twenty years. With high secret clearances and active in special access programs, dealing with classified material, including stuff that was Top Secret with special qualifiers, including nuclear war plans, launch codes, attack plans, and intelligence materials, I was frequently the Top-Secret Control Officer, the unit security manager, and also often the OPSEC/COMSEC and COMPUSEC manager. I took it seriously. My peers, commanders, and those we supervised all took it very damn seriously. I was appointed as an investigator several times when processes failed or people violated the governing regs and laws. Trump’s conniving to keep some classified documents ‘as his own’ insulted our efforts to keep the nation safe by properly protecting such material. Joe Biden’s sloppiness — or worse, as the investigations are only under way — undermines our systems as well. President Biden has at least acknowledged that what has happened is bad, unlike Trump, who dances and shouts, trying to deflect blame and responsibility, squeaking out ridiculous justifications for what he did.

Okay, off the soap box. Today’s music is “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood”. I went with the Animals version of 1964. Besides being the version seared into my memory by radio play repetition, I’ve always liked Eric Burdon. I also enjoyed the band’s keyboard use and the gritty blues sound they brought to their performances. The Neurons decided on this song and put it in the morning mental music stream after conversations with the cats. They were asking for something and I didn’t understand what it was. The felines’ insistence was the final driver for Les Neurons. Listening to them, Eric Burdon’s voice just rose from the depths of memory to sing, “Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood.” And there we were.

Try to stay positive. I know it can be tough. I feel less than positive on many days. Right now, I’m positive that I would murder a cup of coffee so I’m heading to the kitchen for that black brew. I’m excited just thinking about it! Here’s the music. Hope your week takes you to new heights. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

We rose to a sky rich with sunshine. It’s Sunday, January 8, 2023. The sunshine is welcome. It’s in the forties here but the cats and wife agree, it feels colder than that. I was out at midnight last night, delivering used kitty litter to a trash can, and paused to check out the night. It smelled like winter to me, if you know what I mean. That sort of element has been missing for this winter except for a few days.

Sunrise finally moved off of 7:40 AM. At last we’ve begun moving toward an earlier sunrise, with the sun sneaking up on us a full minute earlier. Friggin’ rejoice. Sunset is all the way back to 4:56 this evening. By next week, it’ll be setting after 5 PM. I’m looking forward to a longer day. A cougar prowling the town after sunset reduces my willingness to go out there. I don’t think the big cat will attack me, but I really don’t need to test that theory.

Today’s song is by a group called Montrose. The name comes from Ronnie Montrose, the lead guitarist and band founder. Sammy Hagar was the lead singer. The song in the morning mental music stream is “I’ve Got the Fire”. Watching the video and listening, it’s interesting how much Sammy’s voice stayed the same through the decades. Anyway, the song came out in 1974. I didn’t know about it at the time. I entered the military in October of 1974 and the album was released a little later. When in basic, we had little outside contact. This was before the net, personal computers, and cell phones. For people to reach us, they had to contact the squadron office and leave a message. We weren’t permitted to hear radios or watch televisions. Riding in motorized vehicles were off limits until the final week. We had to earn the right to visit the base exchange after several weeks. Funny in retrospect, but we knew little going on outside of our unit. We were allowed to line up and use the pay phone to call home after three or four weeks, if you and your unit were making satisfactory progress.

Anyway, after finishing basic and listening to music again, I discovered the new Montrose album. Montrose was another band that my high school friends didn’t appreciate, except for Scott and Rick. The three of us were considered strange, but we had fun.

The song is in mind today because of ginger cat, Papi. It was pouring rain last night. The wind at one point growled like a large, angry giant, and then slammed the house’s side like it was really pissed off. Of course, Papi doesn’t care about that. Doesn’t care about cougars, either. Just, let me out!

I was going to use an audio only file, but I couldn’t resist this Midnight Special video. “Paper Money” leads off. “I Got the Fire” starts at 4:56 in if you want to cut to it.

I finally did after stern words and ignoring him was ignored. A while later, he banged on the door to get back in. Yeah, he was cold and soaked. I mentioned, “Come in to the heat. We got the fire.” Then I helped him dry off. Meanwhile, The Neurons started several fire songs. I foolishly let my mind wander into the pickets of music I’ve heard in my life, focusing on all the songs that mentioned fire. There are a lot. Somehow, The Neurons dug out this lesser known 1974 song. Voila, it’s our theme music for today.

Stay pos and test neg. I’m off for a cup of coffee, hear what I’m saying. Hope your Sunday trends in a positive way. Cheers

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‘Nother Military Dream

It was another military dream but with a marked difference. First, a friend, Jeff, who was also in the military was in the dream.

I was at some unidentified Air Force base. I was a chief master sergeant, E9, and was due to attend a conference of CMS that was due to start. (This is two ranks above my RL retired rank.) I worried about my hair, my uniform, and my shoes as attendees began arriving. But I slipped away and pressed my uniform, taking care of that, putting razor sharp creases in it. Then I stayed low until the barber opened. When I walked into the barber shop, there were two barbers and no customers, so either one could immediately cut my hair. Both knew me by name.

After getting my hair cut, I left the shop and looked down at my shoes. They were scuffed and old. I said to myself, those aren’t my shoes, and they immediately changed into highly polished new shoes.

I felt a lot better about myself. I ran into Jeff, also a CMS. He and I chatted. I ended up telling him about a cousin who died of cancer (a cancer did die of cancer in RL). We were walking around as we talked. Female military spouses were all over the place, and they kept flirting with me. The attention flattered me.

Jeff and I stayed together through the morning, sitting down and eating. Then the conference was due to start. Another CMS came up and asked if I was going, because it was getting under way. I told him that I’d left the military twice and came back twice, but now I’m done. I wasn’t going to attend. I was taking off my uniform and leaving.

I went off to find a bathroom. When I found one, I undressed and then peed and discovered that my pecker was half purple. One of the wives walked in on me. While taking a long look at my body, she apologized for entering. I replied, “I don’t mind. I’m just wondering why my penis is half purple.”

Dream end.

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Monday’s Theme Music

Long, thin shadows slash the ground as sunshine creeps out of the mists like a forgotten movie star. Monday has come on us again, regular as a calendar. It’s December 19, 2022, and the southern Oregon temperature hovers at 27 degrees F. The sunny disposition of the twenty-four-hour cycle commenced at 7:35 this morning and will be completed with the sun’s turning away at 4:41 this PM. These are colder days than we’re used to, on average. It’s 27 F now, but we’re used to the bottom being 31 F. The highs are closer to average, 46, and that’s what we’ll see today. But this extended period of temperatures dipping into the low to mid-twenties is a winter flavor that we taste in the winter months, but not every day, and it’s not winning me over as other things that I taste every day has done, such as coffee. It’s not like the cold temperatures are delivering some wonderful winter scenes of snow to give it that holiday feel. No, autumn colors have fled. Although grasses are green, the annuals are brown and naked. The land just looks weary.

Yeah, in a darker place today, a culmination of matters which really don’t matter, but try telling that to your brain and emotions, yeah? Yeah. Has me thinking of 1991. 1991 was a transition year for me, coming back from Europe to the U.S., and re-developing my relationship with American culture. 1991 seems like yesterday, as does 1985, and 1975, and many other years, but are all receding further into my past.

Today’s reflective, melancholy mélange has The Neurons playing a 1991 tune by Yes called “Lift Me Up”. Music groups have their own life cycles and Yes has a long, complicated existence. Two versions of Yes as a group were out there for a while, arguing over the right to be Yes. This song is off an album called Union with songs from both Yes factions. It was a real Yes mess but I like this Yes song. It has the usual progressive nuances which occupy every Yes song. Hope you enjoy it and it does a memory thingy for you as it has for me.

Stay pos and test neg. Endure and get on through the lows and highs, however much they swallow and lift you. Now, where is my coffee? It feels like a coffee day. Of course, so does every day, IMO. Here’s the 1991 music, courtesy of 2022 technology and commerce. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

A winter Wednesday morning to you. No snow here in the lower levels, but the temperatures and air quality has us singing that winter is upon us. No surprise, it being December 14, 2022, a nose hair short of mid-month. -2 C and foggy out there. The fog will grumble and fuss around the trees and houses for most of the morning but burn off and permit sunshine’s entrance. Daylight crept through the valley’s fog at 7:32 this morning. By the time the sun lowers its from our presence, the air temp is supposed to jump up to 46 degrees F. It may do so but yesterday’s 42 degrees felt like 34, as they say.

After perusing some morning news headlines, I pulled an early cup of coffee, and wrote the dream journal up. Les Neurons then then pulled me down a ‘where are they now’ path about a one-time neighbor and co-worker. We were serving the Air Force together at Onizuka AFB in the mid-nineties last century. Before Onizuka was renamed to honor an astronaut killed in t he Challenger disaster, it was Sunnyvale Air Station. It went from Air Station to Air Force Base to Air Base after being renamed Onizuka.

That has nothing to do with my friend. Last which I heard of him, he’d gone to Turkey on an unaccompanied assignment, returned to Florida, divorced, and retired. He and I ‘connected’ on Facebook but little was ever there of him except for annual birthday greetings from people I don’t know. He’d quit responding to those a decade ago. Alive or dead, The Neurons wonder.

Today’s song, brought to you by The Neurons and their ‘where are they now’ tour, is “Cut Like A Knife” by Bryan Adams from 1983. This is because the tour subject loved this song. Midway through a party, he’d request it. If he’d imbibed enough and it was late enough, he’d sing and play air guitar to the song. Thinking of him, I think of that song, and cigarettes and beer.

Hope you enjoy it. Stay pos and test neg. I gather from reading digital news papiers that a growing body of folks eschews such quaint measures as masking, testing, etc. “It’s nothing,” you read more often online even as rates of flu and COVID climb. Certainly, local store experiences find my wife and I in a tiny minority when we’re masked while shopping. Oh well, live and learn.

Here’s the tunes. I need to wrap up morning activities, and head to the coffee house for writing activities. Hope your day is safe but enjoyable. Let’s go on a limb and say, productive, too, right?

Cheers

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