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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Downxiety

Ah, Wednesday arrives with some relief for us in Ashlandia. Dropped to 68 F last night and will only hop up to 100 F today, compared to the 102 seen yesterday. Whew, good. Happily, the air doesn’t have smoky discoloration to it and no scents sting my nostrils.

On the worrisome side, Tucker cat seems to be really feeling the heat, showing lethargy and a diminished appetite. He was a purr machine last night, though. Papi seems very robust, showing off a sprout of zoomies this morning with furious gallops back and forth between house doors front to back, then repeat.

My AC part has arrived and I’m heading up to the attic space to install it. I have this insanely demoralizing worry that it’s not going to fix it. Almost making me physically sick. Just gotta get up there and get ‘er done.

Going out with my beer friends tonight to specifically fete one of our members. He’s retiring for the third time as our local university’s biology chair. His first retirement took for about three weeks when the school rang him up and asked if he’d consider doing his former position on a contract basis. His replacement had been found and hired but changed their mind at the eleventh hour, leaving the university short. Same thing sort of happened on his second retirement, leaving us wondering, WTH is going on that people are backing away at the last moment? True, the organization was going through some turmoil and changing presidents and that sort of thing, and these were doing the pan years. My buddy has no additional insights to add about the situation. But he says this is it: third and done.

The Neurons are feeding “You Don’t Own Me” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark steaming). My wife shared a clip of a young person, Reid Wilson from Alabama, singing the song on AGT. It’s a terrific song and he belts it out. I’ve included a video for your entertainment. Reid begins singing around the 2:30 mark.

But the Lesley Gore original is today’s theme music so here’s a video of her performing the song.

Stay positive and be strong. Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has done its thing and now I’ll go do mine. Here’s the music. Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Raintertained

A light rain falls in some Ashlandia neighborhoods, where the traffic is light and the pace is slow. Petrichor’s smells ease into my nose and raise my spirits. Love that smell. Reminds of everything and everywhere and nothing and nowhere. Goes well with my black coffee’s bright, sharp scent.

Glad to report that Tucker continues his comeback. He’s gained weight and energy, and has become more talkative.

That all took Papi by surprise. Unaware of Tucker’s improving health and increasing energy, Papi pranced up to Tucker and indulged in a sniff.

Whipping around like a startled cougar, Tucker snapped out a left paw, just missing Papi as the latter jumped back, snapping, “Meowww!” I think “Meowww” meant, “Whoa, dude, chill, I was just smelling you. Didn’t mean to offend you. My bad.”

Floofish is an economical language.

Today’s music comes by way of a song. Sounds silly but listen up. As I went about my morning, I was suddenly hearing “There Is Nothin’ Like A Dame” from the musical, South Pacific, in my morning mental music stream (Trademark staged).

Hearing it, I queried of The Neurons why that song was playing. Those cheeky monkeys responded with The Eagles singing, “I Can’t Tell You Why” from 1979.

So that’s where I’m at. Stay pos, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Cheers

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Goodbut

I remain on the carousel, counting days up and counting days down. So many days left in the year, so many days left till the election, the trials, the starts and ends.

I’m sitting on Tuesday, April 30, 2024. A mass of clouds, gray and big as an elephant herd, is sitting on our valley. The thermometer is sitting on 46 F. Sunshine comes and goes as clouds coalesce, shrink, and move on. We will reach 57, the weather folks declare.

“Totally unacceptable,” Papi declares, going out, and then returning. How can he do his rounds and ensure the yard is safe under these conditions? Tucker, older and wiser, eats, washes, shrugs off the weather, and joins us in the office. He settles into his bed and is so slumbering.

With Tucker’s health improving, he’s gained weight and energy. He’s also rediscovered his singing voice. He was a mezzafloofprano this morning, belting out arias for food and attention. It’s very endearing to see.

Thinking about the news, chatting with my significant other about it, we get into the ‘yeah-buts’. Yeah-buts dominate life. A situation is summarized. Or a question is asked. Etc. Then the yeah-buts arrive.

Like Hamas, Gaza, and Israel. They did this. Yeah-but the Hamas did that.

The SCOTUS said this. Yeah-but the Constitution says that. Yeah-but Alito.Yeah-but Roberts and his legacy concerns.

The weather is this. Yeah-but.

POTUS polls say this. Yeah-but Allan Lichtman says that. Yeah-but the polls. Yeah-but the trials. Yeah-but the economy. Yeah-but the Supreme Court. Yeah-but Clarence Thomas. Yeah-but Mike Johnson. Yeah-but the GOP resignations and infighting. Yeah-but.

Yeah-but enough for now. The yeah-buts are overflowing in my mind. I’m counting up and counting down.

Back in the kitchen, I went into the coffee-producing segment of my morning. BTW, my mind asks, why is it called a ‘kitchen’? A detour is made to research its roots. The usual suspects are involved: Latin, Old English, Middle English.

Okay, back to making coffee in the kitchen, where my mind sings, “For the love of coffee.” This is sung to the O’Jays’s song, “For the Love of Money”. Gleefully, The Neurons strike up the 1974 song in the morning mental music stream (Trademark brewing). I sing my version, “For the love of coffee,” and dance. Tucker watches with judgmental soicism. Papi heads to the door and yells for his release.

Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue 2024. The coffee is upon me. Here’s the O’Jays. Cheers

Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: optermined (yes, that’s optimistic and determined: optermined)

Good morning’ sunshine. Good to feel your presence.

And hello, clouds. Not a surprise to see you coming back today. Felt like your visit here wasn’t over.

Hey, winds. You’re here, too? I understand rain is on the way.

That’s the weather set for April’s penultimate day, Monday, April 29, 2024. May is going to kick it on Wednesday.

Well, alright. We’re still experiencing spring. It’s coolish with that wind, and the clouds have more impact than then sun in deciding the temperature. Right now, yeah, 51 F, with a high of 57 F as a maybe top end.

Papi doesn’t approve of this weather. The ginger floof went outside, announced, “This is unacceptable,” stormed back in and headed for bed.

Tucker, my other house floof, just ate, washed, and curled up by my feet, like a worn-out puppy cat.

They were fed and happy. I made coffee and toasted a cinnamon bagel, then added butter, sugar, and cinnamon. I felt like I deserved something extra today. I had things to do and was a little impatient with existence. It was time to get things started.

Triggered by that phrase, The Neurons selected the Lenny Kravitz tune from 2001, “Dig In”, and commenced playing it in the morning mental music stream (Trademark in purgatory). Good theme song. Like the solidly energetic pop rock vibe it carries.

That’s it for this post. Stay fresh, be strong, remain strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. I’m gonna seize the coffee now. Here’s the music. Have a better one, friends. Cheers

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: coffeefied

Good day, all you misfits, miscreants, and citizens. Today is the day before Wednesday and the day after Monday, April 16, 2024. Summer is right around the corner, and then a few blocks away.

Sunny here in Ashlandia, but that was needed. Woke up to 35 F. Now it’s 51 F. Clouds pepper the eastern blue sky and smother the western sky. Gonna go below freezing tonight but we’ll lift up to 64 F before the sun leaves today’s scene.

Must mention, though, the air here smells and feels really fresh, like its never been breathed before. It’s mighty fine air.

Mom is doing well, living large at the rehab center. Tucker is recovering fabulously. I caught him setting up an ambush for Papi in the living room. Papi rounded the corner, saw Tucker and sat down to stare at him. Tucker busied himself observing the sunshine on the carpet. Both floofs’ tails flicked in that eternal signal that they’re waiting, watching, thinking.

The Neurons popped up with “All You Zombies” by the Hooters in the morning mental music stream (Trademark flashing). I’m afraid the 1982 song’s presence in the stream is politically related. I’d just finished a NYTimes column about the state of Trump’s MAGAers before his criminal trial.

This, by the way, is the criminal trial about Trump paying hush money to keep the story about his affair with Stormy Daniels. Just didn’t want to ensure you didn’t mistake it for another trial.

The trial started Monday, that is to say, yesterday. The story was written a few days ago. Trump’s supporters were happy and confident as ever that the trial didn’t matter. Dressed in red, white, and blue outfits, including onesies, or in camouflage, it was a rave event, even though much of what Trump said in his speech has been disproven as lies, false information, misinformation, or urban myths.

They didn’t care! No sirree. They are mated for life with him.

So the song, “All You Zombies”, would seem to fit because zombies are the unthinking blissed out undead in our society.

Stay pos, be brilliant, remain strong, and Vote Blue. Coffee has gone over the lips and past the gums. Here’s the music. Feel free to sing along. Cheers

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