Tag: nephew

Munda’s Theme Music

Suming continues in Ashlandia. It’s a spring base with heavy summer nuances today, Munda, June 2, 2025. Presently 60 F, we’ll pop through 80 before the sun declares fini.

I’m in a bit of a hurry this morning. Time again for us to do Food & Friends deliveries. After that, it’s back to the writing routine and then beginning of month chores. I also pruned trees and bushes around the yard, and now must cut it all down and put it in the green bin for pickup tomorrow.

Haven’t heard back from Mom in days. I’ve regularly texted her. I do know she’s okay. Little sister’s youngest just turned 17. I saw Mom in FB photos of he bash. The lad, named Michael because one can’t have enough Michaels, is the youngest of the nieces and nephews. The next generation of them are nipping on his heels, as they’re sixteen. All are impressive examples of human beings, so far; we know how people change as they age, don’t we? Well, not everyone. But many inevitably shift into someone else who may be better or worse.

My wife bought a book this weekend called A Short Stay in Hell. It’s very short but thought-provoking. We both read it and then discussed its ideas.

With my nephew’s birthday in the rear view, it should be no surprise that thoughts of generations and transitions are occupying The Neurons. They dug out The Who with “My Generation” from 1965. Love the video of the era. The basics of people walking, dancing, and working aren’t much different from what we’d see in a video produced today. Shoes, clothing, and hair styles would be the most notable aspect of the differences, along with cars and vehicles. Since there’s no sound, we’d miss the other facet of change: how talk has changed. But of course, any video of people on the streets today would be peppered with folks on cell phones., right?

Time to make it a Munda, just as so many generations before me. I’ll start with coffee. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

I have a nephew who is starting at the University of Pittsburgh this fall. He auditioned for the band as a trumpet player and was accepted, so he’s already moved into his dorm room so he can attend band camp. Yes, I am pleased and excited on his behalf, and I’m very proud of him.

Today, we found out that one of our friends here in Ashlandia has a niece starting college. Know where this is going? Yes, she’s attending the University of Pittsburgh. And she plays the trumpet. And she’s in the band. And she’s moved into her dorm room already because she’s attending band camp.

It’s like six degrees of separation all over again. Do you know the movie?

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: oneofthosekindofdaysic

We started this day in Ashlandia, Wednesday, May 1, 2024, at 36 F. Chilly, baby. No clouds besmirched the blue sky. Sunshine stormed in at dawn. Asserting itself like a new young bull, the sunshine and front pushed the temperature up to 53 F. It’s still climbing with an expected final stop at 67 F.

The cats can’t wait until it gets that warm. Both stayed out for a testing period in the early hours but galloped to the house when I opened the door and offered sanctuary. Tucker and Papi are now napping like the house cats they are.

Yeah, my mood is oneofhosekindofdaysic. All first world blues junk. Fitbit crashing itself, losing two days of data. GASP! Stop the presses. Slow-loading pages. Connectivity matters at the coffee shop. OH NO, it’s the end of the world. Little matters like that which chip away at your spirit like water dripping on stone. It’s such a cruel world. How can I possibly enjoy my scone and coffee under these conditions? Yes, that’s 24 karat snark.

Reading news restores some semblance of balance. People killed in tornados and storms. I can’t deter my brain from imagining what their death must have seemed like. The noise and power of the storm followed by some manner of incident which causes their demise. Seems like a lonely and terrifying way to die. Of course, hearing incoming missiles or artillery shells also seems terrifying. Is it worse when a blow just comes with little sound and warning? What about being a child in a school listening to one your classmates picking off your peers as they walk the halls with a semiautomatic weapon? That also seems like it would generate all-consuming terror.

One of my nephews experienced his 18th birthday recently so I was thinking about him. Naturally, The Neurons conjured Alice Cooper to the morning mental music stream (Trademark simmering) with “I’m Eighteen” from 1971. The song came out three years before my eighteenth natal day, so I had a ready-made theme song for the day.

I pondered the differences between what I was like and my life, and my young nephew. A straightforward comparison is hard to generate. Our social mediate in those days was passing notes and writing letters. Information was just beginning to emerge beyond AM/FM radio and the big three national television networks.

But I think both ages embody a sense of chaos and challenges. I think that’s so for every generation, no matter the era. We face the same issues of finding our nature and going forward as adults.

He, from my vantage, is an intelligent, poised, and talented individual. My sis, his Mum, is proud of him, and so am I. I look forward to seeing him soon. I hope he votes this year and casts a blue ballot.

Okay, I’ve boarded the coffee train. Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the rock video. Stay chill. Cheers

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A House Dream

We were in a new home. In some ways, we seemed dissatisfied. The place was large and new. Despite that, there was a feeling that we needed to change it and make it our own.

My wife left on errands. While she was gone, we were overrun by cats. We had cats, but every time I looked around, new cats had arrived. Some were afraid of me and scurried out. Others ate without care.

While this was going on, I was trying to explore the house. There wasn’t any furniture or personal things yet. Those were due to arrive. I found we had a large, green yard surrounding our house. Part of a plan, we were on a paved road with other new houses. Plenty of space was between us.

Yet, something about the house continued to bug me. As I walked around, I realized the floor was tilted. It hadn’t been that way. I inspected the rooms while talking with the cats, trying to understand why the floors were tilted. Returning to the living room, I discovered a huge bulge in the floor.

My wife arrived back home in an annoyed mood, berating me for not ‘doing things’. As she went about, I tried telling her to look at the damn floor and the bulge, but she stayed focused on other things and kept talking. I finally said, “Will you stop and look?” in a loud, dramatic manner.

Glancing toward the bulge, she dismissed it as my fault.

That irritated me. I didn’t see how it was my fault, and didn’t care; it was a new house – less than a year old, I decided – so the builder should be responsible. I had to find the building.

In my underwear, I left to find the builder. As I went, I grew more concerned that if something wasn’t done, the house would collapse, or if we waited to take care of it, the builder would weasel out of responsibility. While walking in my underwear, I carried shorts with the idea that I would put them on. Every time that I tried, something convened to interfere and stop me.

Struggling on to find the builder, I came to a market and passed through it, trying to put my shorts on as I went. I discovered a black woman naked from the waist down. Not wanting to embarrass her, I looked away. She laughed at that, but I made it a point to stand in front of her with my back to her so that she could dress with some privacy, which she did. Then I put my shorts on.

I left the market and ran into my nephew. He said that he’d been by my house and that a pillar had gone through the roof. I was horrified. He told me that the same thing had happened to his house, and we needed to find the builder and have him take care of it.

I hurried home with my nephew to tell my wife. As I approached my home, I studied the roof. I didn’t see the pillar sticking up through it. When I turned to ask my nephew, he was walking to his car and about to leave.

That’s where the dream ended, giving me a lot to think about.

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