Tag: Papi

Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: Mondtumn

It’s a wonderful fall day, aka autumn, in Ashlandia this Monday morning. 14th of October, 2024. We’re approaching the month’s midpoint, don’tcha know. Skies as blue as Paul Newman’s eyes. Unabated sunshine splash off autumn’s colors. 71 degrees F outside now, with a few more degrees yet to be gained today before the sundown show begins.

I was out last night — early Monday morning, actually, but you know how our language is when you’re addressing a time that’s a half past midnight; it’s night but it’s morning — checking the sky for northern lights, asteroids, and meteors. Saw none of that. Was accosted by a spaceship. I believe they were aliens but could’ve been Trump supporters, as they were very weird. Anyway, the waxing moon was well short of full but the light it dished out into the night was impressive on its own. Lovely cool air felt me up and a serene silence serenaded me. Love nights like that. They lend a sense of calm optimism to me. With that moon, I could’ve called this Moonday.

Looks like the MAGA belligerence and lies toward FEMA in Hurricane Helene’s aftermess came home to roost. Funny, how when someone took a shot at Trump in PA, the GOP was all about softening the tone. Yet, now that a man was arrested for threatening FEMA in North Carolina amid stories that armed militia are threatening FEMA, the folks that were shushing the Democrats for their attitude and verbiage are letting the crickets sing in the silence. It is notable that many GOP leaders on the ground in North Carolina are pointing out that Trump is lying when he says that FEMA isn’t there helping. Sadly, mainstream media covers that news, and Trump’s MAGAts treat such media as fake news.

Got a ditty about “Jack & Diane” from 1982 in the morning mental music stream (Trademark flooding). Heard the John Mellencamp song on the radio as I aided my wife in her Food & Friends deliveries. This is our county’s version of Meals on Wheels. When I heard J&D, sitting in the car as my wife headed off to door knock, shout out “Food and friends,” and wait for the door to be answered so she could hand over the food items, I started listening to all the instruments employed. The song features an unusual, fragmented musical structure. Different instruments are employed to suggest moods in a way not usually employed in rock music. I think I even heard a recorder or a flute toward the song’s end among the pianos, guitars, drums, and clapping.

It also stayed in my head because I modified the words after I returned home and sang, “Little ditty about Tucker and Papi, two house floofs doing best they can.” BTW, that’s Tucker, pronounced Tuck-ah. The song actually lends itself well to singing about the cats. Example: “Papi sits back, scratches his neck for the moment, washes his paw, and does his best lion king.”

Last note, I want to reiterate that Donald J. Trump is unworthy of holding office. Latest reason for me to make this declaration is his falsehoods, which are known as lies in many places, about Kamala Harris and her cognitive abilities. He likes reflecting back. Whenever he shows signs of something, he immediately uses that issue as a cudgel to bludgeon voters into confusion. Clearly, when listening to Trump and Vice President Harris, it is Trump and his windy, meandering, fraying, old ‘weave’ — and I’m not referencing that abomination on his head — is the cognitively impaired individual seeking our nation’s highest office.

Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue in 2024. We will need all of these things if we’re going to subdue the Orange Menace and his anti-Democracy hordes.

Coffee and I have furthered our fling.

Here’s the music. See if you hear that woodwind somewhere around the 3:17 mark. Cheers

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Winday’s Theme Music

Mood: windulated

It’s a windy beast out there this morning. Definitely a creature of autumn. Trees are shimmying and waving branches like they’re cheering on the University of Oregon Ducks football team.

It’s technically a Sattyday, or Saturday as they call it in some parts of the U.S., samedi in some other places. October 12, 2024. 64 with a lovely balminess riffing. Most of the sun action is obscured behind a cloudy gray monolith. Our air will tiptoe into the low to mid sevenities this day.

The cats are out there, trying to make out like they’re happy with the weather’s shape. But their dismayed whiskers reveal their truths, that this wind is disturbing their sleep, mussing their fur, and annoying them with its sounds. Whenever I go by a door or window and look out, they eye the house like they want back in. I will go back and see if that’s true. Both will probably come in. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) will stay but Papi will go back out. He has a short memory when weather is introduced as the topic.

You know who else doesn’t like the wind? DJ Trump dislikes the wind. The former President said some stuff about the wind at one of his rallies last week as part of his magic weave. This is lifted from a Huffpost article shared on Yahoo:

“The wind, the wind, it sounds so wonderful. The wind, the wind, the wind is, the wind is bullshit, I’ll tell you,” he said.

The crowed roared.

“It’s horrible, so expensive. Just too expensive. It doesn’t work. All of that to do y’know one tenth of one percent, I mean the whole thing is crazy,” he said.

Trump complained that wind power means people can’t watch television on days with no breeze.

He is right; the whole thing is crazy.

Speaking of wind, it’s a mess down in Florida after Hurricane Milton finished with them. Millions without power. Massive flooding. Sixteen dead, but people left homeless. Gas stations lack gas and alligators are swimming freely as a threat. President Biden has asked Congress to return to pass more funding for FEMA. Let’s see how the GOP reacts.

Moving on.

I have a friend with a fruitful fig tree, and she’s generous with its produce. After receiving pint after pint after pint of fresh, ripe figs, my wife baked a fig cake with a mix of almond and white flour. Excellent with coffee. I theorize it’d go well warm with a scope of vanilla bean ice cream as a dessert. But I’m having it this morning, cold with my coffee. Still fine riding on the taste buds.

All this wind thinking lends itself to songs about wind. I ended up with Kansas singing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark blown away). The Neurons agreed with the choice (although they did campaign for “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger and The Scorpions’ windy offering, “Wind of Change”. So here is “Dust in the Wind”, the 1977 progressive rock offering.

Stay strong, be positive, and vote blue in 2024. Rock on with your day. I’ve been rocking mine with coffee. Here’s the music. Cheers

Update: both cats came in and stayed.

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Thurturday’s Theme Music

Mood: Hurricanefatigued

It’s supposed to be Thursday. Where I sit, it feels like Saturday. So it’s a hybrid day, officially Thursday, but more like Saturday in feel. Thurturday.

By the numbers, this is October 10, 2024. 54 F, it’s mildly cloudy. Highs might top 80 F, and there’s a chance of leaf showers. They’re coming off the trees fast in my backyard, energizing memories of being out there with a rake on a chilly day under a cloudy sky, cup of coffee off to one side to sustain me, raking and bagging. Sometimes, it would lightly drizzle. I prefer to keep the leaves in place as mulch but my wife dislikes that approach, so I put myself out there and get ’em up.

Pleased that Hurricane Milton seemed to have skimmed Florida without too much devastation and loss of life. Considering Milton’s smaller size but more powerful winds, we worried here in Oregon about what was going to happen. But Milton swept through fast. Yes, there’s some damage and flooding, and loss of life. Sorry to hear of all of that, of course, but that the levels of these things were not on the scale of Helene is a sort of release.

Now, I’d appreciate it if we could go without a hurricane for a while. I’m sure others have much stronger feelings on that than me.

With this mild but dry, warmish weather, the house floofs are making it their business to tuck in for long naps in their favorite yard spots and while out time with a snooze fest. I check on them regularly, and each will come in, tail up, for attention, food, or treats, but only after long hours outside sleeping. Guess these are the floof days of autumn I’d always heard about.

Today’s song is A Flock of Seagulls with “I Ran (So Far Away)” from forty-two years ago. It started in the morning mental music stream (Trademark purrfect) after a floof incident. Papi the ginger blade was the catalyst. Stepping from the house as Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) walked toward it, Papi darted at Tucker and made a little swipe. Toothless elderly Tucker, stopped, half-turned, and used his one good eye to give Papi a stare. Papi responded, “Whoa, shit,” and blazed across the yard to a tree. Springing halfway up it, he hung on and looked back at me. I thought his expression said, “See how far I ran away?” Seeing that (as I chuckled and Tucker completed his journey into the house), The Neuons kicked on the Flock with “I Ran”.

Stay positive, be strong and merry, and vote blue in 2024. I have introduced myself to a cup of coffee. Here’s the music video. Dig the hair. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: adultuated

Autumn continues it new reign of weather, pale blue sky, bold but late sunshine, goldenish green trees. Upta 56 F now, with 80 F on the horizon. 80 F makes a fine temperature for Ashlandia. If you ever vote for the temp for this place, I urge vote 80.

Told my wife yesterday after we got some things done, “You know, as I look back on October, I’m impressed with how much we got done.” Cuz this is Wednesday, October 2, 2024.

I enjoy watching Papi. Papi is the ginger blade component of our felinious duo. Younger. Very outdoorsy. Coming in the back door, he avoids stepping on the mat. Like it’s lava. Then inside, he circles around the outside of the sofa, to the room’s far side, like he’s a scout in enemy territory. Cuts back in to the rug under the dining table. Like it’s a safe base. Talks to me from there, tail up, back arched, whiskers brimming. I make inquiries about his appetite and willingness to eat. Tail still standing like a sundial, he races alongside as I head for food prep. Gives me some vocal encouragement. Then sits. Patient. Waiting for the food. Final burp of pleased noise as his bowl lands. Sitting, body adjustments, because he must be postured just so, it’s a thing of his, he commences.

Brother-in-law’s mother passed away. 92. COVID pneumonia. She, like all of her children, including BIL, are Trump supporters. But her grandchildren are not. Sorry for the loss, etc, but my emotional sea churns with conflicting currents.

I went out with the cats and enjoyed the still fresh air. They groomed and tended to sounds while I just did breathing exercises and reflected. For some reason that only The Neurons know, Tom Petty ripped into “You Wreck Me” from 1995 in the morning mental music stream (Trademark wrecked). Could be simple association. (Ya think?) October 1974, I entered the military, October, 1995, I dished the retirement papers to the service. This song is from ’95. So. Not saying the military wrecked me. Not at all.

Stay positive and lean forward and vote blue next month. Coffee and I already rendezvoused on familiar grounds. Here’s the music, and away we go.

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Fridetermined

Sunshine jumped over the hills and in through the windows, lighting up the trees against a blue sumumn sky. Although we’re ranging through the mid fifties now as the sun’s air kisses the air, we’ll be striking the mid to upper 70s by day’s end.

Cut the grass yesterday. We have one large section of it which is something called clover. Bees were busily jumping from clover to clover so I left that nine square feet uncut so they could do their thing. I’ll cut it once they’re done. Not a big deal to cut the grass, as I use an old mechanical push motor. No gas or electricity needed.

At 6, we headed to the OSF Green Show to see one of our favorite local bands, The Rogue Suspects. The sun was dropping and the tempertures was sifting through the low 70s, providing a wonderful venue for enjoying music. As expect, per usual, they put on an excellent show, featuring songs from the Pointer Sisters, B-52, Journey, Huey Lewis and the News, and other bands and performers out of the last century.

Today The Neurons have “Fix You” by Coldplay going in the morning mental music stream (Trademark broken). Weirdly, I have featured this song twice before, both times in September. Must be a September song, right? Curious, I checked; released in September, 2005.

Papi drew the song into my head this morning. The other night, he was acting listless and uninterested in his food. That’s unusual for the feline known as the ginger blade. Six times out of ten, he comes in and heads right to the food bowls. Three other times, he’ll come over to me for skritches. Once, really less than one time out of ten, he’ll come in due to weather, loud noises, or something else disturbing his force, and head into the bathroom to chill.

This time, he came in and went over to a corner and settled. I took food to him. He sniffed as if interested but passed.

Okay, this is a cat who experienced a life-threatening bout with triaditis before. I informed my wife about my concerns and we made plans to keep him in overnight and keep watching him.

Later that night, he wanted out. No, I told him, not until I see you eating. I checked the food bowls put out for him: untouched.

I fed him the next morning. He showed some interest and ate a little. No vomiting, and he was acting closer to normal. A Churru was given him, and he lapped that up. After drinking water, he came to me and purred. His tail rose a bit, more like his normal self. I made him some kibble slurry — warmish water with kibble. Starting hesitantly, he lapped up most of that.

Anyway, to finish, he’s jaunting around with his tail up today, eating in his normal style, and meowing and purring per usual. Talking to him after he ate all the breakfast provided him, I told, “I’m happy we were able to fix you.” Lo, Der Neurons cranked it up.

Be strong, stay positive, lean forward, and vote blue in 2024. I’m doing the same. Coffee has been warming my innards. Time for the music, with Michael Fox joining them. Cheers

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Friday’s Them Music

Mood: roadweary

We left our vacation house on the coast this morning at 10:30. It was 58 F. When the sky saw we were leaving, it started crying.

We headed north from Waldport to Lincoln City because we wanted to do something stuff up there. And while we were there, the sky’s crying launched into heavy bawling. And that wet stuff kept coming down. We head east to Oregon’s capitol, Salem. The rain came down. We headed south. The rain went with us.

Well, we told each other, this cool air and heavy rain will help with the fires. Let’s hope California is getting some of this precipitation.

We slammed to a halt just south of Coburg, then inched forward for thirty-five minutes. Finally, we arrived at an accident site. Clean up was in progress. We didn’t know anything about injuries but three cars and a truck were involved. I tried learning more via a search of the net. Ridiculous results ensured. One AI reported a recent accident on I5 southbound by Coburg happened, but that was three years ago. Google’s reporting showed me accidents for up to one day ago, along with accidents from Feb. and April Not fucking useful.

Any way, we the route, weather and traffic delays, we were on the road nine hours and I’m a little road weary. Funny, though: when we arrived here at home, it hadn’t rain. Light spit was falling. We asked Alexa about this, but she can’t answer questions like that. She’s too limited.

Going right into the music, I’m staying with the theme of songs with colors in the title. The Neurons pulled out “Raspberry Beret”, a 1985 song by Prince, and popped that into the morning mental music stream (Trademark wet).

As always, it’s good to be home. My cats greeted us with purrs and rubs before demanding makeup food. It was lovely being in cool coastal weather with a restless Pacific at hand. That reminded us of our Half Moon Bay life. I still miss that. We made the right decision to move away from there.

In fine symmetry, it was 58 F here in Ashlandia at our 7:30 PM arrival. Rain is expected tonight. It’ll be 69 F as tomorrow’s high, a weirdly low temperature for an Ashlandia August.

Well, coffee was consumed, and here I sit. Stay positive. Ride the wave of positive and joyous Harris – Walz energy. Vote blue. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sundated

We’ve crashed into another Sunday. It’s August 11, 2024. Jays are busy arguing outside. A whipperwill keeps some background song going. Distant car travel are reminders that others are out there and on the move.

60 F now, 92 F will be the high. It’s a comfy 74 in the house. Meanwhile, the air quality is in the moderate stage again, 82, but smoke discolors the blue sky mountain tableau. Thin smoky tendrils are slithering into the windows so I’ve shut ’em.

Not sure where our fire is from. Haven’t seen any recent models for wind and smoke. The Park fire still blazes away down in California, less than a hundred miles away. Started by a man rolling a car down a ravine, it’s closing on 400K acres of burned land.

Dozens of fires are burning in my state, Oregon. None are too close at this point. Fingers crossed and knock wood that that won’t change. Burning more than 459 square miles, the Durkee fire on the state’s eastern side along the Idaho border, is Oregon’s largest. Started by lightning, it ate through the hot, dry vegetation, killing cattle and wildlife and forcing evacuations. It’s 95 percent contained.

Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) and Papi have entered a new state of floofproachment. First, Tucker was giving chase after Papi a few times. Then, as Tucker sailed past Papi, Papi sniffed Tucker’s nethers and tapped his tail. Next, Papi was sitting at the open door. Tucker, walking by to leave, paused and leaned his had Papi’s way. Papi politely tapped Papi on the head, signalling, move on, buddy. Then the two were seen touching noses in a classic flooformational exchange. This is only what we’ve witnessed but we’ve not found any signs of more intense encounters, so we’re assuming they’re moving closer to trusting one another and maybe getting along. It’s only been almost a decade. Time is sometimes needed for these things.

The dancing theme continues for the time being. Pausing to think of songs with dance in the title and songs about dancing, a scroll of titles are unrolled. The one The Neurons seized and plugged into the morning mental music stream (Trademark tapped), “And We Danced”, a 1985 song by The Hooters. Why that dance song, oh Neurons of Mine, I politely inquired. Have some coffee and think about it, they replied. I’m still sipping the coffee and thinking. I got nothing.

Stay positive, be strong, and lean forward. Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: rainlifted

Start the coffee. Saturday has landed on us in Ashlandia, where the students are young and the population is old.

A light rain fell this morning. After the smoke cleared to moderate levels last night, I opened windows with dreams of cooling the house. As we slept, the smoke returned. I awoke congested at just before six. Heading to the bathroom to spray saline up my nose and blow it out, my ears captured the ping ping of rain on the exhaust fan hood. Checking it out, I discovered Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) out on the patio, watching a mild rain descending. Papi was not far away but showed less interest in the rain.

It’s August 3, 2024. 94 days until the 2024 elections. 71 F here at this point, today’s high should stop short of the upper eighties. With this rain has come mouldering gray clouds. Smoke still obscures the mountains. We’re skewing toward moderately unhealthy air from wildfire smoke at the moment.

Today’s music will be “Freedom” by Beyonce. Reading that Vice President Kamala Harris is rolling it out as her campaign’s theme music, The Neurons and I agreed that it would be good theme music for today. I admit that I’m not overly familiar with the song. Released in 2016, I saw her perform it duing the Superbowl halftime show one year. There is no doubt the powerful, energetic song and its lyrics fit the fighting spirit VP Harris needs to win. It’s also a fitting album for a year in which the GOP is cutting back women’s rights and shackling their freedom. Hell, JD Vance even suggested making it a requirement that women have papers for traveling between states.

Freedom! Freedom! I can’t move
Freedom, cut me loose! Yeah
Freedom! Freedom! Where are you?
‘Cause I need freedom, too!
I break chains all by myself
Won’t let my freedom rot in hell
Hey! I’ma keep running
‘Cause a winner don’t quit on themselves

h/t to AZLyrics.com

Stay positive and be strong. Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has arrived. Here’s the music. Cheers

1

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: soursmokeworn

Day has broken, smoky and sunny in Ashlandia, where the temperatur is 69 F. The smoke isn’t ours; it’s from one of the many fires burning in California, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, or Canada. Or maybe somewhere else. Or all of them. While the election rushes on, the world turns, the heat increases, the planet dries, and catches fire. While the Olympics parade across our screens, typhoons, hurricanes, and storms take death and destruction to new levels. What isn’t on fire might be flooding, like down in Florida. Just take some time to check out the many ‘natural disasters’ that we’re either recovering from or enduring right now.

It’s Saturday, July 27, 2024. Too late to wake up. It’ll be 89 F in Ashlandia today, not too bad, so long as we don’t drive too far away.

Don’t know what was happening before the moment today when the jay flew in through the bedroom’s open sliding door. The bird landed on the stepping machine and let out a screech. Papi the ginger wonder bounded in after the bird, jumping up onto the bed and orienting to acquire the target. We have a vaulted ceiling in that room so the bird flew across first to the idle fan, perching on a blade, and then to an air vent embedded in the ceiling. Striped ginger tail wildly lashing, Papi leaped from bed to dresser, directly below the bird.

Meanwhile, I’d arisen and was addressing the bird, telling them that they need to get out. Closing doors to the bath and hall, I pushed the slider to its max. Taking the hint, the jay shot out. Papi shot out after it.

I looked out. It was a happy ending with the bird in a tree scolding Papi, and Papi returning to tell me good morning.

Well, with all these fires going on in the news and Trump’s campaign burning like a housefire as GOPers toss fuel on in, and Kamala Harris catching fire with voters and groups, The Neurons pulled up an old song about fire. Called “Sleep Now in the Fire”, the song is burning up my morning mental music stream (Trademark aflame). The 1999 song is about this little rock band called Rage Against the Machine. You tell me what it’s all about.

Be strong, stay positive, lean foreward and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee and I are going at it. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: coffeetermined

Dry, hazy, hot. Not as hot as many U.S. places. Haven’t really checked the rest of the world. I’ve been mired in my American experience.

It’s 83 F in Ashlandia, where the sky is postcard blue and the sun beams down with frying bacon intensity. Gonna get hot today. How hot is questionable; one source said, 99 F. Another gave us a quote of 95 F. Somewhere in the upper nineties is my guess.

Tomorrow will be cooler, they’re saying. Fingers crossed, they’re right. Some are saying, 89 F will crown the temperature. Others declare, 91 F.

I’d love something in the high eighties for a change. I’m working on the side yard. We have a couple raised beds located there but chose not to use them this year, because we had other plans. While I was away in May, this yard grew thick with weeds. Now they’re all straw yellow and ripe fire fuel. I’m trying to remove it all but the heat gets in my way. Also, I grab this stuff and it just breaks away. Getting rid of it is going to be an involved process. I’m considering watering it to green it and then pull it up.

Papi and this jay have something going on. Papi is our ginger blade, a rescue floof abandoned when neighbors moved away. He and they apparently didn’t get along well. He’d started visiting us and socializing. Originally calling him Meep because of the soft sound he made, we started feeding him and giving him shelter when the weather went to shit. Eventually, he was ours and his original folks were gone.

I don’t know what precipitated it, but whenever Papi leaves the house and goes into the backyard, this jay flies over and screeches at him. I mean, it’s relentless. This started several days ago but this morning’s episode seemed more intense. I had the bedroom slider open to let the cool night air in, with the screen closed. Papi came in and ate just before six and went back out, and that jay started up like a frenzied MAGA fan. I could see the bird on our table yelling at Papi. Papi didn’t seem to be doing anything in response.

Anyway, out of that, The Neurons conjured the 1972 song which Billy Paul had a hit with. See, I’d said to myself, Papi and that jay have a thing going on. I guess The Neurons thought that segued well with the song’s lyrics, “We have a thing going on.” So now I have the song playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark scratched). If you listen to the song as I did, I sang along but subbed the words, “Papi and the jay have a thing going on.” When I sang it to Papi, I swear that he rolled his eyes and walked away.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee is mingling with the tastebuds. Time to jam. Here’s the music. Cheers

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