Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
This one dipped into the stream out of nowhere, but reminded me of a friend. A sweet, petite person, I was surprised when I discovered her favorite music came from Danzig and Samhein. She wasn’t as fond of Black Sabbath because she didn’t think they were really head-banging, but she liked Def Leppard and Scorpion.
So, thinking of her, hope she’s having a good day after enduring trying years.
Here’s Danzig’s “Mother”.
I’m once again streaming 1974, another year in which things happened, other things changed, and everything kept going almost as though nothing had happened. For me, I graduated high school, turned eighteen, joined the military and left home, in that order.
Today’s theme music, “Only Solitaire”, arrives via a miasma polluting the thinking stream. Jethro Tull’s Warchild album was being streamed, but thinking about a particular individual, the stream’s thread narrowed to “Only Solitaire”. It’s a short and simple song.
Brain-storming habit-forming battle-warning weary
winsome actor spewing spineless chilling lines —
the critics falling over to tell themselves he’s boring
and really not an awful lot of fun.
Well who the hell can he be when he’s never had V.D.,
and he doesn’t even sit on toilet seats?
Court-jesting, never-resting
he must be very cunning
to assume an air of dignity
and bless us all with his oratory prowess,
his lame-brained antics and his jumping in the air.
And every night his act’s the same
and so it must be all a game of chess he’s playing
“But you’re wrong, Steve: you see, it’s only solitaire.”
It’s a short song, a few ticks more than a minute and a half.
Today’s choice came right out my morning. Cats were hungry and wanted fed but my urine collection bag was full. So I was apologizing to the cats (of course), telling them, “Sorry, you need to wait. My bag is full.”
That invited ZZ Top’s “Just Got Paid” (1972) into my stream. There’s a line that riffs off a classic nursery room, “Black sheep, black sheep, have you got some wool? Yes, I do, man, my bag is full.” See how it all works?
Sorry if I’m sharing too much about the whole urine, bladder, catheter, pecker thing. My wife thinks I need to think about my boundaries.
I just shrug.
I greatly admire the late Prince (Rogers). Talented and creative, the world is better for his music.
I’d been reading about the 2019 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame ceremonies. I didn’t watch anything but I recalled Prince’s performance one year. After watching the video of that again, I reminisced about his music. From that, this morning, I found myself streaming “Raspberry Beret” (1985). A song about teenage sex and a chance encounter that changed a boy, the imagery is evocative throughout the lyrics. It’s a story to music.
Its jaunty beat makes it an ideal walking song on a warming spring day.
A bizarre string of songs flowed through this morning’s stream. A brief sampling is “Snoopy and the Red Baron” by the Royal Guardsmen (1966), the Bee Gees with “Massachusetts” (1967), John Denver singing “Annie’s Song” (1974 ), and “Cumbersome” (Seven Mary Three, 1996). The rest included a song by ELO called “Telephone Line” (1977) and that’s what I went with. It won because of the lines, “Okay, so no one’s answering. Well, can’t your just let it ring a little longer? I’ll just sit tight, through shadows of the night, let it ring for evermore.”
I always think, wow, that’s persistence. I probably wouldn’t stay on that long. I mean, I don’t have Phoebe’s stamina for waiting to be served. Nor am I living in twilight like the guy in “Telephone Line”. I’m just streaming songs forevermore.
To clarify a little, each song was actually triggered by something that happened in the morning. For example, I was marching the cats to their feeding area (sure), saying, “Hup, two, three, four.” That’s used in the Red Baron song. A glance out the window at the sun and light rain introduced “Annie’s Song”. (“You fill up my senses like a night in the forest,
like the mountains in springtime, like a walk in the rain.) A reflection on people being too rich invited “Cumbersome” in (“Too rich or too poor, she’s wanting me less, I’m wanting her more”). “Telephone Line” came by way of being on hold.
All that in an hour.
Going to the doctor’s today, so naturally my stream called up a song about doctor’s.
Here’s Mötley Crüe with “Doctor Feelgood” (1989).
Cheers
I’m a Weezer fan. Their music has a seventies rock sound to me.
Today’s Weezer song, “Hash Pipe”, popped into the stream, as it often does, because of that opening verse. I’m wearing a catheter in my pecker that drains the urine from my bladder. There are two bags. Smaller and lighter, the leg bag attaches to my leg and allows some mobility. The night bag is a bruiser that can collect over eighteen hundred milliliters. It sits in a lined trash can beside the bed while I sleep.
While I was changing bags last night, my wife called out to ask me what I was doing. My mind automatically channeled Bob Seger’s “Night Moves”, but the lyrics I sang were, “Changing to my night bag. Trying to clean the catheter tubes.” That was all to the “Night Moves” melody. I thought, geez, what a weird mind I have. From that streamed “Hash Pipe”.
I can’t help my feelings, I’ll go out of my mind
These players come to get me cause they’d like my behind
I can’t love my business if I can’t get a trick
Down on Santa Monica where tricks are for kids
h/t GeniusLyrics.com
Yes, it is a sadly weird mind at work. From 2001, join me in a little sumo wrestling with Weezer.
Today’s theme music entered my stream due to some nocturnal emissions.
Nocturnal emissions, if you don’t know, is also known as phantom writing. It’s the practice of writing in your bed when you’re supposed to be sleeping.
I’d been sleeping when both calf muscles seized, throwing me awake. After my wife and I rubbed the spasm with some toe-flexing help, I went through the dream I’d been in and then my thoughts drifted into the novel in progress. Turning to what’s happening in the novel, I thought, “What are these deeds? Who is doing them?”
That created an easy transition to “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” by AC/DC (1976). With that rocking my head, sleep easily pulled me in.
Sing along if it moves you. The words are easy to learn.
The season change has prompted thoughts of dancing, you know, dancing to change, dancing to the joy of warming weather, rising greenery, leaves on trees, and blooming flowers and buds. A lot of good dance songs exist but I turned to “Dance, Dance” by Fall Out Boy. It came out in 2005, fourteen years ago, so does that make it an oldie? How long must a song be out before it’s an oldie, a golden oldie, and a classic? Any thoughts?
This song, “Still the Same” by Bob Seger (1978) has been on a continuous stream since last night, looping through my conscious mind yesterday evening, through some of my dreams, and on through today.
The dream part was weird and laughable. I’m with others. Confusion is like a drug in my blood. We’re on some mission to get out of a jungle-like setting but I don’t know where we’re going. Sweat, grease, and stinging insects plague me. It seems like we’re on the verge of escaping the jungle. I’m dubious because I believed that before. Others are more optimistic but it seems like they’re pretending.
A quiet dusk is dropping around us. Darkness is seizing the jungle behind us, yet we’re reluctant to move on. I recognize it’s because we’re all tired but we’re not at a good place to stop.
I thought I heard something and then another voiced that same belief. We stop to listen, standing like mannequins. Then I heard, “There you stood, everybody watched you play. I just turned and walked away. I had nothing left to say.” The descending piano followed.
“That’s Bob Seger,” I said. “”Still the Same.” Where’s that coming from?”
No one answered. We instead lapsed into a brief and meandering conversation about what to do.
I didn’t remember the dream when I first awoke. After being up for a little bit, I heard “Still the Same” playing in my mind, and that triggered the dream recall. I was all, WTF?
So I’m posting the song here to purge it from my head. Thanks for taking it on for me. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 