I’ve been thinking about tomorrow. In some sense, it was about delaying something that I want to do, like rake leaves. Stagnant air shrouds the sky. The temperature floats up and down, thirty-five to thirty-eight and back. Too chilly and uncomfortable for this sugar cube. I’ll do it tomorrow, I tell myself, knowing tomorrow is forecast for more of the same. Shrug.
Then there’s the broader version of tomorrow, a new time, a new year, and not quite a new era, when Trump is out of the office and Mr. Biden takes the oath as POTUS. Come on, tomorrow.
Several songs come to mind, but the 1994 offering by Silverchair, “Tomorrow”, takes over my mental musical stream.
So here it goes, in honor of tomorrow, and its promise.
I’d fed the cats, done some dreamflecting, emptied the dishwasher (and put the stuff away), and was making breakfast (and writing in my head) when some neurons took a sidebar to discuss today’s theme music. Without any apparent deliberation, they decided it’d be “American Woman”.
Why? “That’s why,” they answered. My neurons can be so immature.
So now, “American Woman” is rumbling through my head. Which version? Oh, several. Lenny Kravitz led off, but the neurons switched back to the original version by The Guess Who (1970), followed by the Butthole Surfers’ cover (which is always interesting). In the end, the original led the way.
Here we go. I selected several of the versions as theme music at least once before, so this is a redux, but the neurons have spoken. Here we go.
World seems almost black and white out there with this dense fog smothering it all. No chameleons lying in the sun, because there’s no sunshine. Just the bleah.
So, this rocking, simplistic song with this driving beat seems a fine song for a COVID-19 Friday. Run runaway.
Once again, a cat is inspiring the theme music choice.
Today’s song arrived with a cat’s request in false dawn’s weak light, “Hey, feed me.”
“Eat kibble.” He’d awakened me, so naturally, my bladder said, “Well, as long as you’re awake, you might as well get up and pee.”
I eyed the kibble bowl as I wobbled past. “There’s kibble.”
Sitting down outside the bathroom, he waited. When I came out, he gave me a look with hungry eyes. “Please, sir, I am oh so hungry.”
I sighed. “Come on, youngblood,” a nickname for Papi, my young ginger.
Oh, the joy he displayed. Tail shot up as he dashed past, purrs and mews filling the space.
So here it is, “Hungry Eyes” by Eric Carmen, 1987. I’m probably as familiar with it as much from the movie, “Dirty Dancing”, as the radio. Starring Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey in the prominent roles, “Dirty Dancing” was a large hit. We ended up with the album of songs from it, so I heard it alot.
Ever been out, doin’ your thang, mindin’ your own bizness, when suddenly, ‘lo, an urgent need strikes? Maybe it’s urgent hunger; you’re suddenly famished. Or thirst. You need coffee — stat. Or maybe it’s the worst one, you feel the need to pee…urgently.
Such happened to me yesterday afternoon. Halftime had started for the rain. I thought I’d get some outside walking in. I’d headed up into the hills around and behind my house. One mile became two, two became three.
I was monitoring where I was and deliberately plotting my routes. I knew I was about a mile from home. Dusk was slithering in. I’d descended down to Siskiyou Boulevard. Four-forty-five, cars passing had their headlights on. I was torn between putting on more distance when the need to pee struck urgently.
Naturally, as I pondered my sit. and debated options, a song provided distraction. In this case, it was “Urgent” (1981) by Foreigner.
“Urgent! Urgent! Urgent! Emergency.” I think that’s how the lyrics go.
Enjoy your day. Wear a mask, please, and social distance. I know it’s been a while, and you’re getting weary, but the payoff by staying strong is that it’s better for us as a civilization.
I was spying on neighbors this morning, verifying that they followed their regular routines. All seemed alive (although some moved like zombies) and in good health (but such appearances may be deceptive, no?). Each followed their recurring and regular, sharply predictable, Tuesday morning routines.
My routines are not predictable — in the mornings. Writing, I set my structure. As socializing and common activities like shopping or heading out for a cuppa are curtailed, my day is a freeflow form. What do I want to do, and when do I want to do it, along with what needs to be done regarding health, house, and history, right?
All that thinking about busy activities stirred thinking about insects, spiders, and ants. That invited the 1994 song, “Ants Marching”, by The Dave Matthews Band.
Today’s theme song thinking finds one of the Red Hot Chili Pepper’s melodic songs from earlier this century in my head.
I looked out to check the weather. The rain had abated. Sunshine was making its way in like it could use a cup of coffee, and the temp was stumbling into the upper forties.
Not bad. No snow. I wondered if snow were on the ridges on the valley’s other side. Thinking of snow brought on RHCP’s 2006 song, “Snow (Hey Oh)”. My mind lit on that one chorus.
It’s raining this weekend. I like a nice, solid rain, which is what we’ve received. Brew some coffee and chill with relaxing rain sounds. I shouldn’t be surprised that a song about rain entered the mental stream yesterday. That it was Bob Dylan and “Rainy Day Women #12 & 35″ surprised me.
I was finishing up shaving and such when I thought out of nowhere, what’s Bob Dylan’s real name? I came up with Zimmerman but took a few more seconds to remember Robert. And then the song began.
I used this song as theme music back in October, 2017. Its mocking, rambunctious nature always entertains me. The song came out in 1966. I was ten, so the song passed under my radar. But when I became aware of it a few years later, I thought, yeah, this is about getting high. After doing a paper for a pop culture class years later, I appreciated the play on words, how people are throwing stones at others for imagined slights.
Pretty appropriate for these years, in which stones are slung for every damn thing, right? Have a good one. Wear your mask. Enjoy life.
After the morning’s dream review, Steve Winwood’s 1986 hit, “Higher Love”, punched into my mental stream. The album it was on, Back in the High Life, was a favorite. I frequently played it as part of my life activities. Although “Roll with It” is my favorite Winwood solo song, “Higher Love” is up there on the list, so I thought, why not? Works well for today.
Hope you enjoy it. Have a good one, wherever you are, and wear a mask, okay?
You ever think, “Boy, I could use somebody to…” do X? Complete the sentence. Fill in the blank.
I haven’t thought those words in a long time. When I managed people, I often thought that. Juggling resources and priorities was a constant. Not too infrequently, it ended with, “Boy, I could use somebody.”
This came to mind yesterday, after Veteran’s Day in the U.S. As a veteran, I have many veteran friends. Photos of them back in the day rolled into Facebook.
So I was remembering when with some of them. One in particular was an intelligent but withdrawn guy when he worked for me. He seemed like he lacked self-confidence, that he could be a lot more than what he was showing. Another section came to me and said those words, “I could use somebody…”
This guy was the choice. The officer with the need was dubious, but my guy blossomed. From that, you could see the change in him manifest. It was something to behold. Leaving the military after eight years, he went into tech, where his talents and intelligence were applied and rewarded.
The phrase itself, “I could use somebody”, cropped up when I was shopping for cat food during my day out. A woman said that to a store employee. That then triggered a foray into mental writing as I went about my business, creating a scene that I wrote after I returned home, centered on the phrase, “I could use somebody.”
Lot of disparate thinking to reach today’s theme music. But each time the phrase, “use somebody” passed through the mental stream, my strangely wired neurons said, “Playing ‘Use Somebody’ by Kings of Leon, 2008.” So, really, this is about getting a song out of my head. I enjoy Caleb’s enunciation of the phrase in the song. It’s a good song to sing when it hits the radio and you’re alone in the car. Just sayin’.
Michael Seidel, writer 