Nominating a cocky upbeat song from de ol’ days (1990) that spurted into the music stream this AM for today’s theme ditty. Has an infectious espresso-shot dance rhythm that picked me right up like a cheap distraction for a new affair. Glory to you, glory to you, take me there. As happens too consistently in this time of my life, recollection about the song is loaded with that sadness that another talented performer, this time Michael Hutchence, died before we were ready. He was definitely a rock star.
Little Floof(floofinition) – American floof rock (flock) band that plays a diverse mix of blues, country, folk, boogie, and Floof Orleans R&B. Formed in 1969 in Floof Angeles, the band re-formed in 1987 after being disbanded by the original founding member in 1979.
In use: “The song “Hate to Bite Your Finger” (1988) was Little Floof’s first number one flock song.”
This is sort of an unusual choice, via a circuitous route.
First, outside, looking for the comet, NEOWISE. About 10:30ish PMish. The sky is og, so clear, and the night is empty church quiet,
Up visiting comes the house pantera, whining, whining, whining for attention as is his way. He gets some head skritches, as is my way. Exception is suddenly taken by him, as is his way. A warning is issued: you’re doing it wrong. Stop, or I’ll bite.
I stopped. He tottered off (as is his way). Now I’m looking at the sky but thinking about him getting ready to bite the hand that feeds you, a stream that conjured Nine Inch Nails and “The Hand That Feeds” (2005).
On one side, when thinking of the song, I think of mask slackers. They claim that maskers are sheeple. By stepping out of line, mask slackers believe they are fighting the system. Masks are only useful (to them) as signs of oppression.
Maskers, of course, say, no, this isn’t a symbol of oppression, it’s a willingness to protect and be protected. It’s not about oppression at all.
Addressing another point I see in the song, dropping down to one knee is a protest against the system. But the song — and history — will have you on your knees if you’re being subjugated. This gives taking a knee it’s power; while others stood, Kap dropped to one knee. He did it to make the point, I’m not standing for this anthem. But dropping to a knee reminds us of being subjugated, and also says (in sports), hold up; pause. Take a break. But by taking a knee — especially in the modern NFL, that was interpreted by many as biting the hand that feeds.
Hootie and the Floof Fish(floofinition) – South Carolina based American floof rock (flock) formed in 1986, known for their lead vocalist’s baritone voice.
In use: “Hootie and the Floof Fish scored a hit with “Hold My Paw” off their debut album, Cracked Rear Tail, in 1994.”
Whoa. That was Lou Dobbs promoting the idea that SCOTUS justices Gorsuch and Kavanaugh were part of the deep state out to ‘get Trump’. I craughed, which is a cringe modified by scoffing laughter. Into this came a 1983 Human League song, “(Keep Feeling) Fascination“.
Just looking for a new direction In an old familiar way The forming of a new connection To study or to play
And so the conversation turned Until the sun went down And many fantasies were learned On that day
Reading about Florida setting a new record for COVID-19 cases, then a new record for deaths, then the urge to open Disney, and the demand that children return to school. Then there are many other matters churning my stomach and leaving me saying, “I can’t go for that.”
Fortunately, Hall & Oates’ song, “I Can’t Go for That (No Can Do)” (1981) covers it, making it today’s theme music.
Pulled a piece of bread out of a bag yesterday and sniffed it, then gave it the eye test. That bread had been in the basket for a while. The basket is the bread basket that’s won counter territory. Nominally for bready goods, bulk granola, nuts, Kind bars, and Lararbars often camp there, too. It’s the place to rummage when a food is trying to tempt you but you’ve yet to identify its song. A couple forgotten goodies are usually to be found.
I found two heels of Dave’s Bread yesterday. Dave’s Bread was, is, an excellent healthy, tasty, robust bread, even though an evil corp. bought Dave out. Two heels; I could slap together a classic PB&J. The bread passed the eye and nose test, yet doubts lingered. A feel test confirmed: yeah, this is stale.
Per habit, my neurological Alexa said, “Playing a song with the word stale in it.” Eve 6’s offering, “Inside Out”, gained volume.
But yeah, stale is an appropriate word for the sit. in the USA. Trump’s attacks, tantrums, finger-pointing, and whining are stale, as are the faux discussions about re-opening the economy, ‘safely’ playing pro ‘sports’, and sending children back to school. My weariness with it is stale, as is my disbelief (hey, what do you know, Roger Stone has been pardoned) and disappointment. It’s all gone stale.
Ja, a stretch for “Inside Out” (1998), a wondrous melodic blur of rhymes and images, but I’m going with it.
I was thinking about my muse, or muses. They were having a party in my head, a.k.a., a head party. Apparently, they’re feeling frisky. I enjoy their energy and company. Starting to learn some of their names. Won’t reveal that, per their dark request. (“Yeah, reveal our names and say good-bye, because we’ll be a word on the wind.”)
Anyway, here’s the song that was written about a muse, “Never Let You Go” by Third Eye Blind, January 2000.
Michael Seidel, writer 