Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Floofybeat (floofinition) – Style or sub-genre of rock or pop music which incorporates animal sounds or approximations of animal styles. Origins: USA circa 1965.
In Use: “The Kiffness creates floofybeat videos of cats ‘singing’ tunes.”
In Use: “‘Li’l Red Riding Hood’ by Sam the Sham and the Pharoahs is a 1966 pop song that incorporates a wolf howl, qualifying it as floofybeat music.”
Mood: Firstdayfever
It’s a day of firsts. First day of bloated rain drops clunking down on us. First day of gray fog tongue lapping around everything, licking up the sunshine. First day that it’s 38 degrees F with light rain and a high of 46 F on the afternoon’s horizon. First day of Butter Butt (aka Papi the ginger blade) whining for freedom and first day of Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) begging to see what I’m eating. Yes, it’s Jan. 1, 2024. A new year.
Today’s music was heard in the car yesterday. Hooking a few loose Neurons with its vocals, they began whispering and humming it throughout the evening. By this morning, they’d swayed other Neurons into joining them. Now they’re all singing it together in the morning mental music stream (Trademark first).
I knew little of the song or the performer. Looked both up when I came home yesterday. The song, “Lose Control”, was released by Teddy Swims in 2023. June. It peaked at number 1 on the Billboard’s Hot 100 in March of 2024. News to me; it was relatively fresh to my ears but my wife knew it. Guess I wasn’t tuning into the right stations. I’d not heard much of Swims and the net tells me that he didn’t get much recognition until this song made it. Well, I’m happy he’s achieved success with it. Hope you enjoy.
Continuing my day of firsts, I must finish my first cuppa coffee, take my first shower, do my first shave and my first exercises. We’re not really ones for celebrating a new year. The shadows cast from 2024 shave our hopes for the new one. Today’s festivities won’t be about welcoming 2025. We’re instead taking an ice cream cake to a friend’s house to celebrate her birthday. I will echo what a friend passed on to me: courage.
Cheers
Mood: Coffeemollified
This is it, 2024’s final day. Twosday, December 31. Seems ordinary in every way when I just look out the window.
Winter has descended. Our temperature is muscling to 30 F. The high will be 42 F. Sun shimmers through fog’s pearly teeth. Frost crisps grass blades into white shoestrings. No snow or rain falling. While walking in late afternoon yesterday, though, I looked across the valley. A fog line huddled against the mountains at about three thousand feet. Above the fog, a snowy mountain ridge turned apricot by the setting sun stood sentry. Now that, I thought, looks cold.
My Neurons took to quizzing me as I took care of brekkie duties, asking me who starred in different televsion shows and movies. Yes, I agree, it’s an odd thing to be doing. Then they pivoted, “Okay, who sang the ‘Friends’ theme music?” Easy peasy, the Rembrandts, right? “Now name the Supreme Court Justices, smart guy,” The Neurons returned. Before coffee? I protested. That’s hardly fair.
Today’s music was brought in by The Neurons when my wife and I were driving home from a shopping expedition yesterday. The radio played Luke Combs’s version of Tracy Chapman’s song, “Fast Car”. My wife commented that it revitalized her sales, especially after the Grammies, when Combs and Chapman performed the song together. We then talked about how good her first album was. That resulted in The Neurons installing another song from the album, “For My Lover”, in the morning mental music stream (Trademark tariff protected).
Coffee is now approaching The Neurons with a peace offering. Yes, it’s caffeine. Usually sufficiently mollifies The Neurons into being more companionable. Hope your final day of 2024 is memorable for you in good ways. Here’s the music. Cheers
Mood: Timeflective
G’ mornin’, peeps of the online written word. It’s 2024’s final Monday, December 20, 2024. To celebrate, my other and I will go out for brekkie after she returns from her exercise class. Then we’ll do some groc shopping. Breakfast will be had at Crackin & Stackin in downtown Medford, I think.
It’s 33 F outside. Sunshine and clouds war again. Blue sky wins as the sun prevails. The ground is wet but drying for the moment after a few days of rain on a heavier scale and flooding in other parts of the county. No rain is forecast for the next two days. Today’s high will be 43 F.
I experienced vigorous, positive dreams last night and that’s put me in a solidly upbeat mood. Seeing sunshine reinforced it. Also contributing is that my foot/ankle are happier, and I had a lengthy solid if interesting writing outing yesterday.
Spoke with Mom on the phone last night. Says she’s feelin’ tired. Not surprising. Holidays always sap. Like many, it pushes her out of her comfortable returns. Now at 89, with several major health issues as part of her history, her energy is low, and every day is a new exploration of something in her body contending for attention. Her other, Frank, is doing great, she said. He’ll be 95 next month.
However, one of my younger sisters now has the flu. She is the Trumper who has had COVID three times. Believe she vaccinated before but she reportedly has underlying lung issues. She won’t tell anyone deets so we rumble about what it is. Her husband, a year younger than moi, went through open heart surgery a few years ago and is now dealing with kidney stones.
One of my other younger sister’s boyfriend lost his brother. But 66 years old, the man had a stroke and then a heart attack. Home alone while his wife was away visiting family in another state for the holidays, he was found on the kitchen floor after a day. Rushed to the hospital, he was pronounced dead and was removed from life support. He passed away yesterday morning.
Meanwhile, the boyfriend himself went into the hospital Friday for some scans after he complained about feeling ill and not breathing right. Turns out that he was experiencing congestive heart failure a 56 years old, astonishing us all. He’s 56 and is a regular runner. Those who saw him on Christmas thought he looked healthy and fit. It’s the way of life, I guess.
All that news and subsequent thinking gave permissions to The Neurons to introduce Joni Mitchell into the morning mental music stream (Trademark aging) with “The Circle Game”. A simple song, very poetic.
Coffee downed, here we go, putting another Monday into the books. Have the best you can, right? Don’t know how the next day will change your expectations.
Here’s the music. Cheers
Mood: Sunupbeatgetic
I got a sunshine on a cloudy day.
This is Sunda, December 29, 2024. Yes, we have sunshine. Been a few days since its lights tickled our eyes. Poured last night, prompting a flood advisory for our county, although our town was spared. Lifting and breaking up this morning, the clouds are permitted full view of the low mountains around us. Yes, they’re all still there. 43 F now, a high of 43 F and light rain showers are expected today. This is a welcome change from yesterday, where the air became smeary with fog, mist, and rain.
Papi the ginger blade, aka Butter Butt and the floof previously known as Meep, has been shedding a lot this year. He’s always liked to pretend that he’s a wild animal tolerating domestic pleasures, so he spends time outside even though it’s been sheeting rain. Drives us nuts because we want him in and safe, but he’s perfected the noises and activities that drive us to the precipice of sanity. Reaching it, we give in with a shout and let him out. We’re trying to figure out if there’s reason to his heavy shed load. Is it because it’s not as cold as it usually gets? Does it have to do with the heavier rain load than usual? We don’t know. I plan to inquire about their cats’ shedding from others locally who live with cats.
An energetic, upbeat mood has a grip on my psyche today. I’ve avoided news so far to sustain the mood. It’s fired by a dream about a blues concert that transformed into an erotic dream as a woman seduced. Woo hoo. Good to have one of those every now and again. BTW, I took a kazoo with me to the blues concert and played it.
Weird confluence of music in the morning mental music stream (Trademark flourishing). First came Cher with “Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)”. Sonny Bono wrote the song and it was released in 1966. Whatever convoluted reasons The Neurons had for bringing this song up weren’t being peeled back.
Just as I finished puzzling over that, The Neurons introduced Peter Gabriel with “Sledgehammer” from 1986. Like, “Huuuhhhh? Why is that in my head?” The Neurons remained mute on their reasoning. Musing between the two songs, I was leaning toward Cher’s.
Then, walking about, doing morning exercises, I was contemplating where my foot is hurting. Nothing from the ankle where I had my surgery hurt. No, it was hurting proximal to the lateral metatarsals on the right side, what we often call the little toe or the pinky toe, really, phalanges three, four, and five. They dislike bending down post surgery. CBD topical cream working in concert with Salon Pas heating pads alleviate some of the pain and stiffness. The stiffness is more problematic than the pain, and I realize that it’s the cause of my antalgic limp. Just one of those things to work through.
Anyway, from that course of thinking arose The Police with “King of Pain” from 1983. The connection is that where they sing, “That’s my soul up there” in the background chorus, I used to believe they sang, “That’s my source of pain,” in a classic mondegreen goof.
That’s my morning. Coffee has hit the spot. Here’s the music. Cheers
Mood: Grrrrumpy
It’s raining again. Alexa notified me at 8 PM (or 2000 hours if you prefer) that it was going to start raining near me, starting around 12 AM and going intermittently until 8 PM. About 1.3 inches of rain was expected.
I was listening to the rain hitting the roof, pinging off the vents, splattering the windows, and asked, “Is it raining now?”
“Rain is expected to start at 9:30 PM.”
“Alexa, feedback. It’s 8 PM and it’s raining now.”
Rainy, gray, it’s warmish again, 50 F with a high of 52 F suggested and a low of 46 F. The gray light slanting in through the windows does nada to brighten my mood. Fog swirls around mountain pines and peaks. Dark and pretty in a tragic “Wuthering Heights” sort of fashion.
A perusal of news headlines has me opimistic for 2025. (Yes, that was snark.) Things like the costs of owning and driving a car are jumping. This was a California story. The average price paid for a new car was over $47K. Now it’s jumped to over $52K. And insurance is climbing as well. Again, it’s California, but what happens in California usually ripples out. And, this is before any PINO Trump tariffs are issued.
Then a jolly story covered how the Alum Rock school district is closing or consolidating schools. Oh, boy, let me quit reading that.
Another story told me eggs, already pricy, are going up because of the bird flu. And a related news article informed me that animals were dying from being infected with the bird flu from eating tainted meat.
Next came a recounting that those anti-vaxxing efforts in Louisana are having an effect. Louisana is seeing cases of the flu climb. Surprised? No. They’re one of two states in a ‘Very High ILI’ category. The other state is…Oregon.
What? My state. WTF? Chasing that down, I learn, gosh, vaccinations for COVID-19, RSV, and the flu are trailing data from last year, which was already trailing data from the year before. So the flu, etc., are up.
Grrrrrreat. Yes, that is sarcasm.
I got out of the news before I turned to the national and international scenes. Mood was cratered enough, thanks.
The Neurons already had music picked out and going in the morning mental music stream (Trademark sagging). “Forty Days and Forty Nights” is a 1956 blues number by Muddy Waters. The Neurons had it in my head solely on the line, “Sun shinin’ all day long, but the rain keep falling down.” Yes, it hasn’t been forty solid days if I judge on empirical evidence; it just feels like it to the wife, me, and others who engage in conversations about the weather. The ground is saturated. Rivers and creeks are up. Flooding is possible. On the possy side, our drought seems over for our part of Oregon. Other parts of the state remain abnormally dry.
Could be worse, I remind myself. We are not snowbound, etc.
The Forty Days version I selected was a Steppenwolf cover. Mom bought me the album, Steppnwolf 7, for Christmas in 1970, when the song and I were both fourteen. It has sentimenal attachments to me, see.
Okay, coffee and I have worked out an arrangement for this morning whereby I’ll brew it and pour it into my mouth and swallow. Seems like I’m doing all the work here, but I benefit from it. I don’t think coffee gets anything except perhaps some emotional satisfaction from helping me through the day. Here’s the music. Cheers
Mood: Decembristism
It was a dark and gloomy night but dawn broke as a bright, sunshiny day. Rain clouds knifed in during the intervening hours between now and then, thwarting the sun’s stalwart efforts to give us light and heat. Today is Frida, December 27, 2024. We’re surfing a 54 degrees F day, which t’aint a bad temperatures. The winds that scoured us last night have retreated. A kittenish breeze teases the trees.
Dreams rocked my night. All of ’em were quite personally oriented. Awakening from them had me thinking long and hard about them and what they meant, if anything. That’s often the issue with dreams: any meanings which your brain could be sharing gets wrapped and warped by confusing elements. Do they mean something, or are they just neurons gaming your consciousness?
Ran into a friend this morning. Well, not literally; we encountered on another. We’d not seen each other since October. I may’ve mentioned in posts here that I had ankle surgery in October and then immobolized by the recovery process. He didn’t know that and wondered where I’d been. I presented him a situation précis, with the main point being, that’s life. Afterward, walking away, The Neurons brought up a Dire Straits fave of theirs, “The Walk of Life”, into the morning mental music stream (Trademark aging). I originally associated the song with sports, especially baseball. Listening more closely, I recognized that it was about someone singing songs, and several references to rock and roll songs are heard throughout. An interview with Knopfler, the singer, songwriter, and guitarist behind the song, later confirmed this. Now I associate the song with anyone trying to make good through strife, keeping on toward a goal. This is life; you do the walk.
Days of 2024 vintage are trickling away. 2025 is coming up like a full moon over the trees. Time to rock on one more time. Here we go with the music. Cheers
Mood: Xmaschilled
I’m dreaming of a gray Christmas. Where raindrops glisten, and fog and mist close us in, and the temperatures are neither too warm nor too-oo cold.
And I got my wish! Yes, it’s a dreary day outside my windows. 43 F now, up from 36 F before. Cloudy as cloudy can be. Late posting this because I scoffed off to have breakfast brunch with friends. Yes, I was invited and didn’t crash it. Wonderful time with them, culminating in working on a five hundred piece Christmas-ornament themed jigsaw puzzle. Which didn’t get finished but was about 25 % when we walked after about 90 minutes of effort. Besides that, we compared stories of how we met our sig others, what holiday traditions were observed, and related tales of holiday craziness. Fun time all around.
We got home — I’d worn a dark gray sweater and charcoal pants to honor the gray holiday — ditched our clothes and served up leftovers.
You can guess that we’re not over-the-top Christmas celebrants. We’re not even up to our belly buttons in Christmas. Friends gifted us interesting X-mas theme stuff. Like an Amaryllis. And a pine tree centerpiece decorated in red ornaments and ribbons. Shortbread cookies dolled up with minced dill. Other kinds of cookies and baked goods. But that’s it. We put a couple items up and sent off a few cards and put a few gifts online and the end.
Meanwhile, my little sister sent me food photos of her Christmas setup. She had her nephews, children, grandchildren, sister, and Mom, along with her family. About fifteen people Ham. Mashed potatoes and cheesy hash brown potatoes, corn, green bean casserole, meatballs and stuffed shells, tossed salad, Stouffer’s mac & cheese for the kids. Apple pie, banana cream pie, pumpkin pie. Cookies. Cheesy pineapple casserole. Rolls from Oakmont Bakery along with carrot cake.
Today’s song is brought to you be Der Neurons. They’re always up for a song. In this case, someone said something about being human at brunch. The Ns took that as an brainvite to start “Human” by the Human League in the morning mental music stream (Trademark roasting). Not at all a Christmas song, this is a pop offering of a guy trying to explain away his cheating to his sig other by when they’re away by explaining, “Hey, I’m only human. Flesh and blood. A man.”
Hope your holidays met your needs. Time to start counting down to the new year yet? Here’s the music. Cheers
Mood: Merryholidaysism
December 24, 2024 has claimed Twosda in Ashlandia, where the beer is local and cold. Rain fell in clunk drops all night, yielding to an un-Christmasy morning fog. Rain and sunshine have since warred around 43 degrees. Low will be 36 F and the high will be 46 F, cutting a narrow band through the day.
While Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) has shrugged off the weather and remains inside, Butter Butt (previously known as Papi the ginger blade, but also once known as Meep) continues his rigorous testing to verify that better weather is not available through a different door. Several times when he was left in through the front door, he immediately galloped to the back door for egress, as if time was now some critical aspect of his testing.
Beer with friends was done last night as we slid our weekly greet and drink up from Wednesday to Monday due to some holiday happening on Wednesday. Small gathering of the faithful but family members augmented our numbers. A fun time was experienced, as it always is. We raised our glasses in salute of new possible states, Canada, Greenland, and Panama, the latest things PINO-elect Trump has floated. TBS, except for Canada, he hasn’t actually proposed these places be states. As always, he vaguely intones what might happen, suggesting anything is possible. Anything except sanity, sure. Someone suggested Trump has generated more weirdness-based statements because other world events drew the news media’s attention; he thus issued ideas to get the spotlight back on hisself.
I took it on myself to walk the .75 miles down to the watering hole and back. I’ve done the walk many times and know that it used to take me fourteen minutes. Going wasn’t too far of a challenge, as it’s a slight downhill slope all the way, and it was early-ish, and the weather was almost balmy. Returning up the hill, buffeting by wind, spit on by rain, a few pints sloshing around inside me, consumed twenty-two minutes. By the end, my foot was a flaming riot of irritation. Some tender care and soothing words made it right in a while.
In accordance with the rules and customs, I would now air my grievances, as it’s part of that holiday, Festivus. But I’ve pretty much aired my grievances all year, not holding back to wait for one day to spout off. With that out of the way, I turn attention to the music. Staying with the whole X-mas idea, The Noel Neurons brought Eric Clapton singing and playing “Cryin’ Christmas Tears” to the morning mental music stream (Trademark wrapped). Hope you enjoy it.
Hope your days are comfy and joyous no matter what holiday you celebrate, or if you celebrate none at all. Here’s the music. Back to my regularly scheduled coffee and writnig. Cheers
Mood: Weatherplativ
Hey, it’s Munday, December 23, 2024. A surly northern wind is snapping at us and messin’ with the trees. Clouds have rolled over the sun, rendering it a weak incandescent bulb. Temperature is 46 F but that wind cuts a few degrees off the top end.
Butter Butt. That’s my wife’s new nickname for Papi the ginger blade. I asked her what caused her to give Papi that floofonym. She shrugged. “No real reason. I looked at him and it came to mind.” But it somehow fits him.
Today’s song is a celebration of winter solstice. Except it isn’t. A line hooked The Dear Neurons’ attention: “We so tired of all the darkness in our lives.” That came to me while looking out the window and thinking about the short day & the right wing. Both deliver darkness to our lives. Just after that, Der Neurons lowered “Steppin’ Out” by Joe Jackson into the morning mental music stream (Trademark high steppin’).
We’ve turned the annual corner on the short days of daylight but who knows when we’ll shift away from the right wing darkness? Started with the ‘Tea Party’ stuff, which into MAGA, Proud Boys, Oathkeeps, and other militia. Add to it the general craziness and willful ignorance permeating the GOP in Congress, and PINO-elect Trump stuffing his cabinet with billionaires who long ago sold their sold, and the darkness is worse than a black hole. (Which suddenly makes Les Neurons go, “Hold on, maybe we should go with ‘Black Hole Sun’ today.”) Naw, going with Jackson. “Steppin’ Out” is a lighter, happier, you know?
Here we go, another day from 2024 going into the books. Just a few more left to savor. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 