Monday’s Theme Music

Sunshine coats our southern and western views. Huzzah, my spirit shows. A cup of coffee is served in celebration.

This might be part of recent weather pattern. Calm, sunny mornings. Winds begin gamboling. Then they start raging. By early evening, rain begins. The rains and winds intensify and slam us throughout the night. They fade away with morning.

Not bad for us. We’re on the edge of the atmospheric river slamming California. Stories from the mountains’ south side are about floods and wind destructions, miracles of lives saved, the tragedy of another death. The other cities just a short distance north and west see little of this. While our monthly and seasonal rain levels surge and our cisterns and dams fill, those other places, such as Medford, fifteen miles away, remains behind on their precipitation levels.

This is 2023, Monday, January 9. Sunset has moved back to 4:57 PM. Sunrise keeps yesterday’s schedule, coming in at 7:39 again this morning. It’s 40 degrees F beyond my windows. Letting a cat in (or was it out?), my nose finds that wintry smell has departed from our place. Today’s high temperature will be balanced out at 54 F.

Today’s theme music sprang from DIY projects. Three projects are lined up. As I walked around and considered them, and the steps I’d take to research them and get them completed, I thought, I’ll find a way. That’s like my motto for 2023 so far. Last week, while editing and reconciliating the novel in progress, I ran into a problem. I will find a way, I told myself, but I knew it wouldn’t happen that day. Anyway, I ended up with that as some lyrics being sung in the morning mental music stream. Eventually a song by Tesla, “Love Song” from 1989, was identified. So here we are.

I remember this song from the regular work and shopping circuit my spouse and I followed in the 1990s. This song was part of the heavy rotation of the stations I rotated through, depending on our moods and what we were pursuing, and the time of day. NPR with “Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me” and “Car Talk” were part of the weekend’s rotation.

Ah, the morning coffee is done. I’ll be on to other Monday things now, if you’ll excuse me. Stay pos, test neg. Here’s Tesla. BTW, this is the first time I’ve seen this video. Although I knew Tesla was part of the ‘Hair Metal’ movement, I’d never seen them and their appearance surprised me. They got the hair, they got the moves, they have the sound. Looking back like this is fun.

May your Monday be terrific. Cheers

I Notice

I often think about what might come next in my WIP, plot arcs, character growth, scenes, and dialogue. Sometimes I use what’s produced but I frequently go with something that erupts in my head when I sit down to write.

Got my coffee. Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.

The TV Movie Dream

The dream felt like a made-for-TV rom-com. I was a clean-shaven young NCO in a pressed service-dress uniform and tidy haircut. Due to weather circumstances and other logistic problems, I was required to help a four-star general for an evening. The general was a notoriously finicky and critical man, but I accepted my assignment with an aw-shucks gulp.

He was at a conference. The evening didn’t go as planned but I managed to keep a step ahead, and it went well from the general’s point of view, if not to anyone else’s thinking. (Sorry, but details are lacking.) The general then wanted to leave – now. But his aide, chief-of-staff, and other personnel weren’t there. Nonetheless, he wanted to go now. So I led him out of the building.

It was late a cold and starless late night outside. It’d been snowing for several previous days but sunshine had prevailed that day. Much snow had melted, flooding streets with icy slush. It was messy and travel was limited. But no problem, I took to the general to my parents’ house. Previously in the evening, I’d come by and set up a place for the general in their sprawling split-level. After showing the general to his place, I went upstairs and told my parents about their house guests. They accepted it with a matter-of-fact shrugs and smiles.

After that, I checked in on the general. He was fine, didn’t need anything and stressed, he didn’t want anyone to disturb him. He had work to do and then was retiring for the night.

Good to go. I returned to the convention center and encountered the rest of his group, as hoped, because they needed to be told what’d happened. They demanded to know where the general was. I explained it all to them and answered their questions. Their hostility soothed, they admitted that I’d done well. One insisted that he wanted to visit the general. I told him the general said he didn’t want disturbed. I left them discussing what they were going to do and went home.

As I arrived home (my parents’ house), a car of young women pulled up. The neighbor’s daughter left the car. The car left with the young women leaning out of their windows hooting and waving at me. The daughter, a short brunette in her late teens whose father was in the military, came over and flirted with me, beginning, “I hear you kidnapped a general.”

I told her the story. We flirted and then I was temporarily called to the house because the general wanted something to drink. When I returned, the young woman’s older sister, a tall blonde, was there. She asked me, “What would you do with slush like this when you were a kid? Wouldn’t you build a dam?”

“Absolutely,” I said.

The older sister said, nodding, “You settled a debate. Good-night.”

She left us. The young women and I went for a walk along the slushy street, building slush dams, but also breaking one open.

The dream ended.


Somehow, from all of this, I ended up thinking that the dream was about the outcome was the only thing that mattered.

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