When I returned from the coffee shop writing session yesterday, my wife related a story she’d read.
A man began a new habit of going to the coffee shop every Saturday morning. He enjoyed the atmosphere and would surf the net on his phone and text friends while nursing a coffee drink and nibbling a pastry. After a few weeks of this, he discovered he and the owner had once been friends. Then, life happened. This disconnected but now reconnected in a casual way.
One day the guy received an email from the coffee shop owner. The owner said that the barista complained that the man was ogling her on Saturday mornings and that the owner was going to have to bar him. The man refuted what was happening. Through a back and forth series, he convinced the owner that wasn’t the case.
Meanwhile, the barista was moved off Saturday morning to another schedule. Therefore, the owner said, the man would be welcomed back.
Fuck you, the man wrote back.
I wholly understood and agreed. That place would never be the same for him, and other coffee shops would probably be tainted for him as well.
Sad that it came to that. Made me wonder, as I sit in the coffee shop and people watch, what did that barista think she saw?
The bowed garage door has been repaired. The repair dude came, he saw, he did what I thought should be done, as he’s done to hundreds of other garage doors in his young career. A strut was tranversely attached via bolts to the garage door’s width. Repair dude used a stouter strut than I would have used mostly because I didn’t see one like it when I searched, but I thought it made sense when I saw the finish. He also tightened the chain’s tension to help compensate for the added weight. Although it wasn’t a DIY project, I was satisified.
The other repair event was the Mazda’s GPS, made by Tom Tom. I’d attempted to update the system before going on vacation. It went badly wrong. I asked for money back. Support reached out to me. I finally set aside time and followed their repair instructions. That didn’t work quite as they suggested, but I employed my own knowledge from my stone-age experience in tech support management. If one thing doesn’t work, observe what happened and try others. Following that perfected process delivered a good result. Didn’t consume much more than twenty-five minutes, too.
So, yeah, yea. Celebrate small victories, right? Yeah.
Sunshine prevails today. Tuesday’s sky can be described as mostly sunny or mostly cloudy. Both seem correct. While sunshine washes over everything in the valley, large clouds brood like waiting bears, shadowing large swaths of land.
Yes, it’s May 3, 2022. Our high is gonna be 64 F, they say, about ten degrees higher than it is at the mo’. The sunrise cometh at 6:01AM. The other end of the daylight session ends at 8:13 PM. Tomorrow, the weather ‘they’ say, we’ll see 79 F.
After a series of dark, messy, and splashy dreams, the neurons summoned a Nine Inch Nails song. Released in 2006, “Every Day Is Exactly the Same”, some of the lyrics go, “Every day is exactly the same.” Which sometimes is how my life feels, outside of writing. Feeding cats and taking care of them, house and yard work, the eternally aggravating question of “What’s for dinner,” dressing and eating, reading news, doing errands, reading books. Yet, in many ways, that’s how it was when working and in the military, too. The world is built on bureaucracies and routines. Sometimes, though, that tedium gets me. It’s funny, but I know this song because one of the QA guys who worked for me when I managed a tech support group introduced it to me. He no longer worked for me by that time, but sent me an email after the song came out, telling me about it, and mentioning, “It reminded me of what you used to say.” I still laugh about that.
Stay positive — yeah, who am I to talk? Test negative, etc. Here we go, music and coffee. Cheers
Sunday arrived like a Monday morning, on time and as expected. Cool and smoky.
Today is August 29, 2021. This is it. If you vowed to do things during August — clean cupboards, fly to the moon, bake a cake for a friend, write a novel — you better find the go button.
Sunrise settled its glowing blanket over our dried out brown and green valley at 6:33 AM. Sunset will be 7:49 PM. Our high temperature will be in the mid nineties.
We have a few warnings for you today for Jackson County, Oregon, including Ashland. Excessive heat warning, so don’t go outside. COVID-19 is still raging out here, climbing to levels that bring the national news services to the area to write stories about how bad it is in hospitals, so don’t go anywhere without your mask. Also, the air is rated unhealthy to extremely unhealthy so don’t go outside unless you must. Masking is suggested. Also, don’t exert yourself too much while you’re out there. A red flag warning has been issued for fires, so you know, be careful and don’t use power tools outside. Finally, there’s a drought still underway, so don’t waste water. Other than these stipulations and limitations, feel free to go nuts.
My mind started the morning with pieces of dreams. Most of them evaporated, leaving me to look at fragments and wonder what was going on there, sort of like we do when ancient ruins or old family photographs are found. Then, I thought about “Friends”. Have you heard about this? It was a television show about a gang of people – a brother and sister, and, well, their friends and room mates, and work and relationship entanglements presented in a humorous way. I believe it’s called a ‘sitcom’. On NBC in the states for a while. It’s also been on reruns sometimes after it went out of production. Anyway, I was thinking about the friends’ parents. Liked how the parents were written into their lives and relationships, and the actors who played the parents, but I was thinking mostly about Chandler’s father, played by Kathleen Turner.
Whew. Got that out of my system. I then checked out the landscape, thought about the situation, and concluded, Jesus, get me out of here. That prompted the Gospel song turned rock hit, “Jesus Is Just Alright” to kick off in the morning’s mental music stream. After re-acquainting myself with the DC Talk version and the Byrd’s version, I went back to the Doobie Brothers and pulled a recording of a live version off the net. The song doesn’t have many words. You can learn them quickly, I think. So feel free to sing along.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as necessary, get the vax, and be careful out there. Here’s the music. You listen while I go get my starter fluid, aka, coffee. Also need to turn on the air purifier because it smells like smoke in here. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 