Woo-hoo, it’s August of 2023. Let’s give it up for August, everyone. August is ready to come in here and be special for you.
Yep, it’s Tuesday, August 1, 2023. I’m still Gold Beach, where the streets are quiet and the sea is blue. It’s 56 now. Seabreeze doesn’t clock in until later in the AM so it’s tranquil down by the waves. Perfect time for a long walk by the ocean. Flat, the beach is a few miles long.
We’ll be going up the river today. Taking a Mail Boat tour. Mail used to be delivered inland via the river since there were no roads. There will be a two hour stop for dinner at the lodge in Agness. Agness as a stop give us a little trepidation, as that’s the sight of the Flat fire which has been going on over a month. Firefighters are staging here in Gold Beach, among other places, so we see them all over. Most are very friendly and will give detailed accounts of their impressions of the fire. It’s still less than 20 percent contained.
I’m a little surprised by The Neurons’ music choice for my morning mental music stream (trademark foolish). They have Whitesnake with “Here I Go Again” playing. Those neurons might be a little crazy.
Stay positive, be strong, and carry on. Coffee service has begun. Pleasant to chug it on the back porch while watching the waves and feeling the ocean air. Here’s the music.
It’s Monday, July 31, 2023. Yes, this time it really is Monday. Yesterday had me thinking Sunday was Monday. I have it screwed on right.
So, it’s a mixed mood. We’re on the beach, renting a house in Gold Beach with friends. That’s our back porch view from 8 AM. Not bad. Clear weather, about 60 degrees F, full sunshine, the whole shebang.
Here to relax with others. But I miss my writing and routines. I’m required to socialize, and I’m awkward at doing so. Especially when solitude and silence are scarce. My wife is sympathetic — she does know me after over years of being together from middle teens to now — but t’ain’t anything to be done about it. Things collide.
Interesting tense moment during the drive yesterday. Was on a two-lane highway, third car in line, carving up the mountains between southern Oregon and Nor Cal at a speed varying from 55 to 65 MPH. heading for the coast. Rounding a corner, I saw a woman starting to cross the road. I then saw her stepping back. A truck in the other lane was stopped to turn. I looked back up in time to see the two cars ahead of me slam on their brakes. Shouting, “Jesus Christ,” because I knew I couldn’t stop in time, I veered into the other lane and flattened the brake pedal against the floor. As I wrestled with the steering to keep the car straight, the car slewed about, tires chirping, chassis shuddering, traction control and antilock kicking in. We stopped and no one was hit. While I appreciated that the first car’s driver was being polite, stopping on a highway around a blind corner where the speed limit is 65 might not be sensible. Afterward, my wife and I agreed, we didn’t need any coffee for the day.
Der Neurons chose today’s music based on another moment from yesterday. Last night, I went upstairs to bed. I was last and it was late. I didn’t want to turn on lights and disturb anyone, so I went up in the complete darkness. Man, was it black and lightless. Going slowly, feeling with my feet as I climbed, I experienced a weird sensation that the black ahead of me was solid. What a trip.
Anyway, thinking about it, Les Neurons punched up “On the Dark Side” by Eddie and the Cruisers, aka, John Cafferty and the Beaver Brown Band for the morning mental music stream (trademark explored).
Now I’m off to trek the beach for a while before the sea breeze cranks up too high. Stay pos, be strong, and live the day. No coffee for me, thanks; already had two cups.
A beautiful day has been born in Ashlandia, where the produce is local, except for the imports. We’ll call this Sunday, July 30, 2023. Skies of blue promise don’t know anything about smoke, and sunshine is spilling down. 56 F now, 89 F is the projected high, quite doable numbers.
A short post. I’m getting on the road to another city here shortly. So I’m eating coffee and drinking breakfast — oh, wait, other way — and then I’ll be in the bath for the standard three morning maneuvers which start with S. Then I’ll dress. That’s right, I’m naked and posting. No, not really. I’m in my night shorts. They were originally sold to me as jogging shorts but they work so well with a tee shirt, that it’s my chosen sleep gear. Today’s tee shirt features the Blues Brothers and was picked up in Chicago at Buddy Guy’s bar.
Since I’m going on the road again, my oh so imaginative Neurons have packed the morning mental music stream (trademark visualized) with Willy Nelson singing “On the Road Again”. You know that’s gotta be my theme music on this day.
All you on the road have safe travels. Whether on the road or not stay positive and be strong. Keep your eyes on the road and your hands upon the wheel. Here’s the music. More coffee, anyone?
It’s another day of rock and roll in Ashlandia, where musicians are elderly and the students are young. July 29, 2023. Sattiday. 66 F now, 89 F is expected to knock on the door before we take leave of the sun.
Same three fires burning around us — Bedrock, Flat, Golden — north, west, east. Wildfire smoke boiled in yesterday afternoon and stayed through most of the night. Tastes of chemicals and burnt wood. Sinuses back up in protest. Eyes get gritty. Little dribble of snot wants to leave the air holes. Fortunately, the house cooled down on its own. We avoid running the air to salve our conscious about a few different matters. Inside the house dropped from 82 to 72 overnight. I usually need to open doors and windows after dusk takes over to make that happen. Smoke’s cover pushed the evening temps down fast, which made the difference. It’s typically still about 80 F at ten. Yesterday, we had 78 before eight.
82 F, friends say. In the house? That’s too hot. Naw, we run a fan as we do things. Yes, we sweat, but, so? We also bath. Tasks are completed early, while it’s still cool. Doesn’t get warm in the house until after 3:30. Then it creeps into the eighties in the house, By then we’re ‘puting, cooking, reading, streaming. We run the kitchen vent fan when we cook so we don’t kick the room temp up too much.
Today, some dirty air scuds over the blue shine. Looking north, the sky changes from blue to smoky white.
Yesterday, my wife said, “Well, pangram was easy.” So I knew I was cursed. We each do Wordle and the Spelling Bee everyday on the NYTimes site. We call Spelling Bee ‘pangram’ because we’re really only interested in getting the pangram(s). Anytime that one of us expresses the conclusion that Wordle or pangram was easy, the other is immediately cursed. So it was with me. I pulled it up and stared at the letters, coming up with BEATZIP. Site said, not a word. Okay, how ’bout ZIPBEAT? Nope. I vowed to come back later.
Later came when I was closing the ‘puter for the day and realized, I never did the thing. I flipped to the page. Immediately saw BAPTIZE. WTH couldn’t I see that before? It was the curse.
The Neurons tossed “Tripping Billies” by The Dave Matthews Band into the morning mental music stream (trademark fantasized). As is often true, The Neurons don’t drop any clues about this song choice. I haven’t heard it in longer than I can remember. Don’t hear anything in the lyrics that I can connect to thinking or what I’m doing. Fun to blast it, though. Brought up old times.
Stay pos, be strong, and ride the way of thinking, emotions, and activities. I’ll be back tomorrow. Here’s the coffee, and away we go.
Mood: slow, mentally and physically. Took me an hour to yawn this morning. Emergency coffee begun.
Yeah, Friday. July 28, 2023. See that date, kiddos? July almost done, another young older, another year gone.
Cool mountain air has been climbing all over me through the open windows. 66 F now, we’re looking at 90 as the top end. Fires are burning but our skies remain clear, knock head. Hope everyone else surrounded by disasters or engulfed by them are doing well.
Well, sis finally told Mom ’bout her cancer, so we can all talk about it openly. Youngest one was diagnosed with rectal cancer. First reported symptoms were rectal bleeding. Went on a while before her older sister forced her to the doctor. A large polyp was removed but now her rectum will be removed. As others have said, and I have said, and will probably say again, cancer sucks.
Along with that, her young son had a severe, terrifying seizure earlier in the month. First one ever. They’re searching for the root cause. A few years short of being eligible to get a a driver’s license, he’s scared. Yes, sis and her fam are having a not very good year. There are bright spots; #1 son just got his license. He graduates HS next year and spent part of his summer visiting college campuses.
I have “Rocky Mountain Way” by Joe Walsh in my morning mental music stream (trademark surprised) today. Why it’s there is a question for the ages. Why do Der Neurons do anything? They rarely explain themselves these days, like they’ve becoming indifferent to what I think.
Meanwhile, I’ve been preoccupied with the GOP and their CRA to overturn endangered species protections for the lesser Prairie Chicken. They used gems like this to rationalize their decision:
‘Rep. Bruce Westerman, an Arkansas Republican who chairs the House Natural Resources Committee, called the Endangered Species Act an important but outdated part of U.S. history.
“The unavoidable truth about the ESA is that a listing means less private investment, which harms conservation efforts,” he said.’
So, to be clear, investment is more important than life, in his opinion.
This one by Sen. Moran was a laughter.
‘On the Senate floor, Republican Sen. Jerry Moran of Kansas said the rule threatens ranchers and farmers.
“I am confident there are ways to conserve the species without hindering economic opportunity in rural communities,” he said.
He said what Kansas needs is “more rainfall not more regulations.”’
See, the numbers for this species have been plummeting for years. I think a smart child would point out to the senator that if there were ways to conserve the species without regulations, it would have already been done.
Sure. Experts point out that this species is often used as a bell weather for an ecology’s state. As the species goes, so does the region. Meanwhile, heat records are being smashed around the northern hemisphere. The GOP actively blocks efforts to deal with climate change.
And this is the GOP in a nutshell to me, a party that ignores facts in pursuit of BAU, a reactionary party that will drag itself, the nation, and the world over a cliff while telling everyone that it’ll be fine.
Sen. Moran, BTW, also thinks that protecting the lesser Prairie Chicken will also harm energy producers, because, you know, despite record profits and high executive pay and bonuses, that industry is hurting. *end snark*
Well, that certainly did nothing for my mood. Deep breath. Stay pos and strong. Move forward, and specify what that means. Here’s the music. Coffee is half gone, brothers and sisters. Time to awaken. Here’s the music from fifty years ago to cheer us up and move us on. Am I being ironic, hypocritical, or just plain ol’ ridiculous?
To begin this day, once upon a time in Ashlandia — actually, we can be more specific. To begin this day, once upon Thursday, July 27, 2023, in Ashlandia, where the dogs and the deer struggle to get along and both avoid the bears, there were two cats named Papi and Tucker. Sorry, that’s all I have.
A cool 68 F air holds sway in our dominion. 88 F is the anticipated high for the day, continuing Ashlandia’s trend for a mellow, less heated summer, knock on wood (I use my head as a substitute, when called for). While my weather system shows two days over triple diggies have been reached this year, the official records say, nope, hasn’t happened. Three fires — Bedrock, Golden, and Flat — continue burning, contributing their smoke to our fresh air, but it’s not been much of a factor thus far, knock head. Hope the dedicated firefighters can get them contained and done soon. Bet they’re hoping the same. Hard life, fighting wildfires, according to five friends who did or do it for their employment.
Not much on the agenda for the moment, which is superfine, yeah? A dream inspired The Neurons (motto: “We don’t know and we don’t care”) to upload “Say You, Say Me” by Lionel Richie, 1985 to the morning mental music stream (trademark laughable). He was The Man for romantic music in the 1980s, and his album, Can’t Slow Down, was huge. We were living in Columbia, SC, at that time while I was stationed at Shaw AFB, but I was traveling a lot, mostly to Africa, but also to Europe and Florida. It’s just an association, you know? “Say You, Say Me” and the 1985 travels.
Time to start up and go. The Neurons have now begun “Kickstart My Heart” by Mötley Crüe (1989 – livin’ in Germany then) in the morning mental music stream. So it goes. Stay pos, be strong, remain hopeful and optimistic, and persist. Ah, there’s my coffee. Here is the music. Cheers, my friends.
He’d been walking on a sidewalk, going up a hill, when a passing van’s music blasted him.
He knew that song — rock, yes — but his mind refused to give up the song’s title or the band’s name. Even more of the song was denied him. The same seven seconds kept swirling through his mental music stream.
It was going to tear up his mind. He needed to find enough to remember it or look it up. Based on his current rate of remembering, it’d probably be sometime on Friday or Saturday before he remembered.
Mood: low-energy. Don’t know if that qualifies as ‘mood’. Feels like my batteries are blinking with a ‘recharge now’ message. Or maybe I just have the Wednesdays.
Yes, Wednesday, July 26, 2023, pulled into Ashlandia, where the skies are not cloudy today. Low was in the upper fifties this morning and the high will pull the numbers into the lower nineties. While the fires continue burning north, east, and south, and advisories warning us about our air quality is out, the sky is blue and the air is smoke free. If we can play keep away with the smoke, a lovely summer day will reward us.
After another dream invasion, I awoke thinking about dreams, my mind, and memories. Last night’s thinking about doors in my mind and event boundaries just before going to sleep probably contributed to that. The Neurons ended up plugging a 1967 song by The Amboy Dukes called “Journey to the Center of the Mind” into the morning mental music stream (trademark imagined). This song has a bit of prog to it — reminds me of several Moody Blues works — with a psychedelic edge. The lead guitarist knew his stuff. It’s a guy named Ted Nugent. I don’t usually share his work because I consider him repugnant. On a scale of one to ten, he goes to eleven. It’s about his interest in sex with thirteen year old girls and his comments about not every man being created equal. It’s not a question of his politics; he’s just hateful.
But we’re going with this music to satisfy Les Neurons (who just fired up “Satisfaction” by the Stones in the morning mental music stream). You be strong, safe, positive. Work it as best as you can, right?
Okay, my coffee is singing to me. Here’s the tune. Cheers
Let me introduce you to Tuesday, July 25, 2023. As befitting a day almost at but not quite the end, she’s sort of laid back and cool. Neighbors are out doing mysterio work around their houses, making noise, sometimes speaking. One neighbor isn’t seen, just manifesting his presence with sounds of activity. Might be repairing a space ship, for all I know.
Cool morning at 66 F in Ashlandia, where the business buildings are getting old, and the mountains have turned brown. Be 89 F for us today, before the sun carries its heat and light contributions away at 8:37 PM. A waxing crescent moon hung in the sky last night, picturesque against the stars, planets, satellites, and galaxies. A tranquil viewing experience for the hours when the heat finally leaves the air and cools us once again.
Three fires burn around Ashlandia. None are closer than an hour’s drive, but they’ve triangulated around our little valley; Bedrock burns to the north, Flat fire — the largest, oldest, and now four percent contained — burns in the east, and a new fire, Golden, burns in the west. It’s problematic for having fresh air daily.
The Neurons have a play-off between two songs going on in the morning mental music stream (trademark iffy). First is Delaney & Bonnie with “Never Ending Song of Love” from 1971. It’s a pleasant, heartfelt song with some interesting vocals. The other song is “Bring Me to Life” by Evanescence from 2003. “Bring Me to Life” combines hard rock with soft vocals with dramatic rapping, an interesting and sort of overwrought gothic juxtaposition of sounds and male and female voices. As the latter song is now more firmly in my head because I’m thinking more deeply about it, I’ll go with it for today’s theme music.
Here we go. Stay positive, be strong, move forward with confidence. Go ahead without me. I’ll catch up after I’ve had my coffee. Here’s the tune. Cheers
Let me introduce you. This is Monday, July 24, 2023. It’s a day which can really help you. You should get to know it.
Today’s weather in Ashlandia, where the cost of living is high and the less-fortunate struggle, finds the air stopping at 88 F. It’s 64 F, and I’ll tell you, brothers and sisters, that cool air feels so good to my skin. Goes well with hot coffee. Yes, I’ve already started downing a cup.
Smoke finally reached us in a serious manner last night. Kicked our AQI into unhealthy levels and was a stench in the air. Shut offended windows. Fortunately, not all required they be closed. Just the northern and western in our arc of Ashlandia.
The Neurons have planted “Secret Agent Man” by Johnny Rivers from the mid-sixties in the morning mental music stream (trademark dangerous). Secret Agent was a television show of the time in the US, a rebooted version of the Brit show, Danger Man. SA starred Patrick McGoohan. I wasn’t a huge fan that I recall, but I remember several extended family members would put it on when we were at Grandma & Grandpa’s house, and I’d watch. My preferred spy show was The Man from U.N.C.L.E. I adopted that in a big way.
Anyway, “Secret Agent Man” is in my stream because I started singing it to my cat. Floofurally, my version was “Secret Agent Floof”. This was dedicated to Papi because after he ate today, I’d find him peering around corners. When I said his name or went to visit with him, he’d galloped away on a mission, only to return a short time later. Ah, floof games in the morning.
So, I have my coffee, and I’m drinking it. You can have some of your own if you wish. Or something else. Whatever works for you, within the bounds of — well, you know the bounds. Don’t go out of bounds. Stay pos and strong, and don’t let the world’s multiple messes undercut your spirit. You can do this.
Here’s the music. Sound and pic sync is a little off. Tech. What can I say? Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 