A high school couple were seated beside me at the coffee shop. I began by writing, ‘a young high school couple’, but isn’t that redundant? It does stimulate a story beginning: ‘An old high school couple sat beside me discussing their course workload and death choices.” Don’t know where it advances from there.
This HS couple rose to leave. She made a comment about Pink Floyd. He, looking directly at me, replied, “I know. Dark Side of the Moon is such an amazing album.”
I thought, funny, but I was about their age when that album was released. About their age when I went to a concert and witnessed Pink Floyd performing songs from Dark Side of the Moon.
I said nothing back, but I was pleased. It’s good to learn that appreciation for some things goes on.
Sunda has arrived in Ashlandia and is offering it’s bonafides as a typical summer day for us. It is July 27,2025. July skidded by on greased slicks, with little sound but a lot of speed. 82 F now, at noon, sunny, an 87 F high is expected by most forecasters for us. Air quality is good with a small smell of wet smoke detected by my nose. That smoke may have been from the Greenway Fire in Medford, 90% contained and 256 acres.
I take exception with the use of ‘imaginary numbers’ in the one article. Imaginary numbers have a place in math; what Trump is using is fictional numbers to spread his lies, as fiction is something invented or feigned. I know I’m pissing up a tree. It’s semantics and pretty meaningless in a world which plays with irregardless, figuratively vs. literally, etc.
I find the Trump meme about a fat Vance hilarious. Hello, kettle, sayeth the pot. You’re black.
And, there we go again, talking about Trump’s cognitive decline and his age, but few others take up the beat, yet they mercilessly hammered President Biden about these things. Yes, we know where the media takes their lead.
Today’s theme music comes from being outside and considering the stars and the black field where they play. Looking at those nocturnal diamonds, I wondered if there was anyone out there coming to save us or destroyus. Meanwhile, The Neutons quickly filled the mental music stream with songs about space and time before bringing up the diamong aspect, and “Shine on You Crazy Diamond” by Pink Floyd from 1975. I enjoy the lyrics and the sonic interplay happening during the various suites.
Hope you have the best Sunda that aliens, gods, fate, and your good selves can deliver. Time to put another one in the books. Cheers
Rolling out of bed and ambulating down the hall, I checked the windows where my eyes met a wall of fog. Inspiration seizing me, I reversed course and dropped my head back into its indentation on my pillow. A floof’s unending breakfast song forced a reassessment of my moment after an indeterminant amount of additional Zzzs. I rolled back out of my warm coccoon of sheets and blankets and gave it the old Ashlandia try once more.
This is Saturday. January 11. 2025.
Yarp, fog socks us in. 37 F, air stagnation advisory, high of 42 expected, sunshine is being offered if we can slip fog’s tenacious grasp. Then it might be a pretty day.
Or not. As the barista related to me yesterday morning, “I was on the phone with my room mate and she said, ‘Oh, it’s a pretty day. Think I’ll go outside and do something.’ Then, five minutes later, it was foggy and pouring rain.” Yep, and it didn’t stop until daylight no longer let us in on what was going on outside.
The state of fog has fog-themed music energizing The Neurons. But some of ’em were hooked on an earlier thought about breakfast. Shuffling around, The Neurons pulled up Breakfast in America. Released in 1979, the album gained a life in my music rotation. See, this was back in an era when I bought music albums. Through tech’s evolution, the media shifted. Vinyl, tape, CD, whatev, we hooked the album up with the appropriate device and played the album. By then, I was 23 and made enough money that I could drop $8 on a new album now and again. Put it in perspective, gasoline was less than a dollar a gallon and a cup of coffee was usually less than two. Also, phone service was waaaayyyy cheaper and we didn’t have the net. We in the U.S. had cable and paid less than ten a month for basic.
So you’d take your new album home and play and listen to it while cleaning the house, washing and waxing the car, making and eating meals, and other activities. Happened with sufficient frequency that the songs came to be known in order. Every note and nuance was etched into The Neurons’ aural wetware. Today, they began playing the album for me in my morning mental music stream (Trademark droppy).
First song up is a guitar & keyboard-driven offering to Hollywood, “Gone Hollywood”. Supertramp wasn’t happy about the place at first. Complaints about life and Hollywood interspersed with moody sax playing. Real picker-up with lyrics like, “Ain’t nothing new in my life today. Ain’t nothing true, it’s all gone away.”
But the self-pity fades after the guitar solo and musical bridge. A more upbeat mood takes over. “I’m the talk of the boulevard. So keep your chin up boy, forget the pain, I know you’ll make it if you try again. There’s no use quitting when the world is waiting for you.”
Then there’s the rest of the album. Several hits on there. “The Logical Song.” “Goodbye Stranger.” “Take the Long Way Home.” Yeah, you might know those, if you’re of a certain age and musical preference, or if you drove around with the automobile’s music turned to pop stations in the 1980s.
The fog hasn’t let up but coffee and I made a pact, and it’s going to carry me through the trough of the day. Be good, be real. Here’s the music, and off we go, into the wild gray yonder.
Today is October 5, 2024. It’s a Sattyday. For this post, I used the day’s original spelling. Sattyday was so named in the early days of designating days of the week in England after a dog, Satty. This was just as the Saxons were fighting with Dane invaders and trying to establish England. A conversation between warring participants took place in which they postponed the battle, allegedly because Satty was dying and the Saxon leaders wanted to honor the old, faithful companion. The name stuck as a joke but eventually, its origins story became lost for a while. As spelling was standardized around the 12th century, the name became attributed to Saturn, based off existed, earlier Roman calendars. That stuck. Researchers later discovered the true story. Their findings were published the day before Pearl Harbor was attacked, so the story was overcome by the bigger news and lost once again. I later read about it in Reader’s Digest.
It’s 55 F now. We expect to put 30 more degrees on the thermometer (originally named for the cat, Thermo, but that’s another tale) on this day before we strike the high. We’re fluctuating between summer and autumn, the transition season known as autmer. It’s so named because autumn’s features are stronger than summer’s features, whereas sumumn is reversed. Yes, trees are lively with reds in many parts of Ashlandia, and gold leaves abound, all under a sun drenched bright blue sky.
Today’s music is offered by the Alan Parsons Project. It has a straighforward path. Jill on her blog featured the Hollies. One of their songs is “The Air That I Breathe”, a song from my youth which I remember and enjoy. Alan Parson was the engineer on the song, as Jill mentioned. Hence, listening to the song in my morning mental music stream (Trademark engineered), I drifted toward Alan Parsons and then the Alan Parsons Project. As this was on top of reading bizarre and false political news generated by Trump and Vance, The Neurons called up “I Wouldn’t Want to Be Like You” from 1977. As I’d never seen the original video based on the song, I decided to go with that.
BTW, it’s pretty fucking disgusting to me how Vance, Elon Musk, and other MAGAs like Matt Gaetz (who voted against addional FEMA funding just before Helene hit) eagerly embrace the disaster of Hurricane Helene to plant false stories about FEMA trying to stop help to Republican dominated areas. They really have no plans or strategy but to lie and obstruct. Exhibit two from Friday’s news cycle is how Vance was out there denigrating the strong jobs report by claiming that the new jobs don’t matter because they’re just taken by undocumented immigrants (paraphrasing). They’re such craven opportunists with no regard for the truth or facts, and they display this with same consistency as the Earth traveling around the sun. But of course, we know the Republicans aren’t casually lying; they’re brainwashing their base and hope to sway more by their relentless screed.
Here’s the music. Be strong, stay positive, and vote blue in 2024. BTW, I made all that up about Satty, as if you didn’t know that, right? Have a better one. Cheers
Hey Terrans, it’s Monday, March 4, 2024. Snow has relented and sunshine has won the hour. Temps are back up into the 30s and climbing the scale. A 43 degrees F high is on the ropes. Snow remains on the ground, 3-4 inches in my realm with a fine crust but streets and walks are clear. A winter storm warning is still on until 10 PM tonight so who knows what’ll happen. Whatever does happen, snow made the point, winter is not yet over.
I was checking out Foxreviewsrock last night and found an entertaining post about Ronnie James Dio and a tribute album, Ronnie James Dio -This Is Your Life. (BTW, the Dio tribute album post is one of many enticing posts, and I hope you do check them out.) Dio, as the post notes, was a rock and heavy metal legend. His songs often projected the quintessential metal sound. As I read the post and listened to the videos, and remembered and thought, I ended up on a completely different path this morning. I figured one of Dio’s many fantastic numbers was going to be in the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). Lead singer on several bands along, his voice and style is memorable.
But no. This morning found The Neuron had inserted Saga with “On the Loose) into the morning mental music stream. That was wholly unexpected for me. Could be dream related as a passel of dreams from last night are in the memory circle. I think, though, it was more a matter of time and place. See, Dio fascinated my buddy Rick. If we were out somewhere and something with Dio came on the radio, TV, or juke box, he’d launched into a admiring spiel about Dio. That was fine. But Rick tripped out over Saga and how they emphasized “Loose” in the song, so hearing this song, Rick would go on about that, singing and grinning, “Tonight we’re on the loose.” Coming out in the early eighties, it definitely has an 1980s sound to it. Give it a listen and let me know what you think.
Be strong, stay positive, lean forward, vote, and drink coffee. The last is optional. All of it is optional; it’s your life. But I hope you’ll abide and at least vote Blue in the US when the chance comes in 2024.
While it’s Thursday, February 22, 2024, the weather has twisted toward spring here in Ashlandia in southern Oregon. Winds be blowing with a wintry taste but sunshine blinds the eyes and blue sky mixes it up with piecemeal white and gray clouds. None of the clouds are large but they can be something if they unite and stay together.
It’s 54 F now after mid 30s as our overnight lows, and will tweak a few more degrees north of the current temp. The cats are not happy with the situation. “It’s the wind,” they complain. “Too much damn wind for our whiskers.”
The house painting is done and the bill is paid. $7650. Looks fab, though, and we’re happy with it, so I guess it’s worth it.
The Neurons have infiltrated the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) with some Rush flavored prog rock, aka progressive rock or prock. Today’s song is “New World Man” from 1982. I can’t find the roots of its presence in the MMMS, only that sometime while I was in the kitchen after feeding the floof boys, that song was in my head as I prepped my brekkie. It’s a song I know from a military co-worker on Okinawa. Rush music was a big staple of his listening hoard. He considered them severely underrated and unappreciated.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote. That’s all we ask of you; is that so much? I hope not. Coffee has been served and sampled. Here we go, into the winds of a new day. And here’s the music. Cheers
December 29, 2023. Today is Friday, and it’s a wet windy time in Ashlandia, where the New Year Eve celebration preparation is below average. 59 F degrees right now, 61 F has appeared on the offerings board as our high. It’s like winter has declared a moratorium on snow in our valley, and the mountains around us. While it’s nice for now, we need the snowbank to be replenished.
The cats are happy, though. I let them out and they settled on the covered porch, leisurely surveying their kingdom as the rain fell, yawning, washing, then drowsing. Tucker stayed out but Papi banged for re-entry to get some sugar from me and have a third breakfast.
No serious plans for NYE in our house. We looked for dancing and dining opportunities but nothing called the inner rocker. Seriously, the pickings were lean as a wheat crop in the Sahara. So, shrug, it’s a quiet evening planned for us. Neither of us seem overly upset over it.
The Neurons fed a Triumph song, “World of Fantasy” from 1983, into my morning mental music stream (Trademark fantasized). A convo with the significant O opened the portal for the song. We were talking politics and how some seem to live in such a fantasy world. I was later humming but didn’t quite recognize what it was. Later, in bed, the song came more deeply but I still couldn’t hook up with the title or band. Come morning, while downing coffee, The Neurons tipped that it was Triumph and “World of Fantasy”. As I remembered it, I thought how Triumph, a Canadian group, sometimes reminded me of Rush, another Canadadian group.
Stay positive, be strong, test negative, and lean forward a better future. Coffee has been sucked up and is yielding positive results. Here’s the music for you. Cheers
A stratus layer mothers the sun, protecting it from our prying eyes. Theoretically, we had sunrise at 7:11 this morning, but few bright rays have slipped past the cloud shield. The temperature is hovering at 46 degrees F as a fine mist drifts and falls, but today’s high is forecast to be 77 F before sunset at 7:25 PM.
Today is Tuesday, March 22, 2022, or 03222022 in the American style.
I was up with cats last night. Another — a different — sick one, as Tucker puked and went lethargic. My wife is sleeping in another bed adjusted for her back issues. Tucker, who sleeps with me 99 percent of the nights, slept with her. I missed my furry boy and his taps on my hands and nose, and deep, throbbing purr. I asked her this morning, how he was. “Oh, he’s fine,” she said. Oh, he ate? “I don’t know.” Did he drink water? “I don’t know.” Did he use the litter box? “I don’t know.” How do you know he’s okay? “He seems okay.” That is not how it works.
Meanwhile, sick cat took Tucker’s absence as an opportunity to cuddle against me. I pet, scratched, and spoke for him for long hours in the night. His ability to eat is diminishing and he’s fading, despite hopes. Of course, I used the time to write in my head. It wasn’t the plan; the writer is always there, and the muses said, “Hey, while you’re not busy doing anything.” They’re very single-minded. My mind shouted, “Eureka,” as some new and surprising vector took shape. Of course, it must be pursued today.
A 1986 Moody Blues song, “Your Wildest Dreams”, settled into the morning mental music stream. The neurons latched onto after a few dreams. Now it’s on loop and must be released into the net so the neurons can go on to other music.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the shots when you can. The neurons are calling for coffee, threatening me with a medley of 1910 Fruitgum Company melodies if I don’t comply. So off I go. Cheers
It’s midweek. Wednesday. And half of March of 2022 has passed on. It’s now the 16th. The news is pretty much the same. War is going on. Russia is being expelled from organizations. Threats are being aired. Trump issued a statement full of lies that have been repeatedly debunked. But he can’t change his nature as a liar. And people still believe him. Look up to him, etc. Meanwhile, another strong quake hit Japan and tsunami warnings were issued. Just what’s needed to feed our anxiety fatigue.
The Earth kept spinning. The sun ‘came up’ and will ‘set’ again, 7:21 AM and 7:18 PM, respectively. Almost to twelve hours of daylight here, and I feel it, brothers and sisters. The temperature is now 37 F but we expect 67 F today. While yesterday gave us slashes of rain followed by shocks of sunlight, today’s clouds hoover like faded giants on our northwest horizon. It’s sunny, people.
A wide range of songs are being played by the neuron jockeys in today’s morning mental music stream. I’m going with the Yes cover of Paul Simon’s “America” from 1972. Friends did not get this one; everyone I knew at that point asked with different degrees of doubt, suspicion, and surprise, “Do you like this?” It wasn’t until I met Scott a year later, in another state, another school, that I discovered another person who knew it and liked it. This particular version is an intriguing recording of them recording the song in the studio. Wonderful seeing that talent at work in such young people.
Hope you like it, and the sun is shining for you, and you’re safe, healthy, and happy somewhere. Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, when needed, and get the vax and boosters. I’m off to coffee so I have a fresh cup while listening to the song. Then back to writing’s sanctuary, where the madness is cranking up. Cheers
Hello. Welcome to this edition of Wednesday, brought to you by 2021. “2021. The year that has to get better.” Today is the twenty-fourth of February, meaning that February is fast running out of time. Today’s sunrise came at 6:54 AM in Ashland. We expect sunrise about eleven hours and four minutes later, at 5:55 PM. A sun bomb has gone off but the air is chilly at 40 degrees F. We expect another late charge into the low to mid fifties by late afternoon. The mountains blocks so much sun as it steals over the sky, robbing us of warmth and plunging us into early twilight. Across the valley is the land of sun, where it’s bright all day long, you know?
Rush is the music provider today. “Limelight” from 1981 skipped into the mental music stream as I walked yesterday. Its rhyming lyrics, with their sharp enunciation, are memorable.
Living on a lighted stage Approaches the unreal For those who think and feel In touch with some reality Beyond the gilded cage
Cast in this unlikely role Ill-equipped to act With insufficient tact One must put up barriers To keep oneself intact
Living in the limelight The universal dream For those who wish to seem Those who wish to be Must put aside the alienation Get on with the fascination The real relation The underlying theme
And so the song goes, a good walking song, solid beat except where it slows for the solo, but that’s how prog-rock often goes, innit? Stay positive, folks, and test negative. Persevere, carry on, wear a mask, and get vaccinated. If that all fails, have a drink. Think I’ll go get a coffee, black, thank you, and unsweetened, like my soul.
Michael Seidel, writer 