Tag: rock

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sumstalgia

Another lovely summer morning has slide into place. We shall call it, “Rumplestiltskin”. Naw, we’ll stick to the usual boring but useful process and call it Wednesday, June 26, 2024. Like many a newborn, it’ll be marked but what happens during its short life.

It’s 65 F now and the cats are cooling it in favorite cooling-it spots after eating brekkie. 81 F may tempt the temp measuring devices but the weather cards tell us it ain’t s’posed to be too hot today. My breakfast of kumquats, blueberries, passion fruit, almonds, brazil nuts, and a bagel has been consumed, and I’m loading coffee into my system as cool breezes gambol in through the windows.

Two songs are occupying the morning mental music stream (Trademark refreshed). Snippets of one entertain the neurons, and then the other pops in. One song is “Saturday Night’s Alright for Fightin'”, an Elton John song of some repute. It was featured in a dream where I was playin’ the six-stringed instrument and singing it, performing for a packed place. I had strikingly huge arms in this dream, and kept looking at them in mirrors from different angles, thinkin’, “Boy, that looks strange.” With those aspects all that’s remembered of the dream, it deserves a prefix like ‘mini’ or adejctive like ‘brief’ before it.

The other song has some Sting softly songing “I want my MTV,” and then those drums and other things start up and we go full-fledged into the Dire Straits hit, “I Want My MTV”. MTV offered memoriable shows and ideas but now it’s a fading phenom as MTV.com now says ‘that page does not exist.’

Started in 1981, I was on Okinawa during its early years. I was familiar with it because a friend and co-worker had friends recording MTV for him and sending the videos to him so he could watch them on VHS while he rode an exercise bike in his living room. I watched a little but became bored sitting there as they tried to entertain us with music news and music videos. Many videos were interesting but it didn’t induce me into wanting to waste the day watching them.

Of course, MTV gave us Comedy Central, which begat “The Daily Show”, which often saved us when faced with political insanity.

The first music video played on MTV was “Video Killed the Radio Star” by The Buggles. But the second was Pat Benatar with “You Better Run” so that’s our theme music today.

Stay strong and be positive. Let’s freshen the coffee and start rolling this day up the hill. Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Cheers

3

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: waitsive (waiting with a pensive feel, ya know?)

Greetings from the third rock. It’s Tuesday, June 25, 2024, and we have a crispy summery morning for you. Temperatures are slipping through the mid sixties and they’d keep that line going until we’re into the mid- to upper- 90s here in Ashlandia. The sky’s so blue, it must be true.

The status quo for me has settled. Act 1 is over, the first half, whatever sports or theatatrical term you wanna apply. We’re at intermission, half time, etc. Next, we’ll see what happens — the debates, the wars, SCOTUS decisions, Dad’s dialysis decision, my annual physical and my ankle, etc. I’m sure you have your own list of matters.

Yes, my ankle worsened yesterday. I went about without wrapping it, and it rewarded me by blooming into a larger size last night. I reciprocated with rest, ice, and elevation. Now it’s wrapped again. Bah, humbug.

With these matters occupying Der Neurons, songs with a waiting theme were percolating in the morning mental music stream (Trademark simmering) but then someone said something that sounded like, “Coming for you.” This was followed by some f-bombs and dog barking, all of which was traced to the street, a good long bomb pass away. A man was walking, his large dark dog unleashed. A woman with a leashed medium-sized canine was taking umbrage and the dogs were cursing one another with great teethy zeal. I went back in and checked on the cats (repping in the back yard) (repping: resting but not quite napping) and resumed my usual routines.

Pretty much a nothing burger, but it shifted Les Neurons’ path. Now they plied the morning mental music stream with “Great Rain” by John Prine with Mike Campbell from 1991. Conducting some forensics, I realized that one point in the verbal melee outside (would that be a verlee?), I thought I heard someone call my name. Confusing and brief, but it apparently hooked The Neurons, inducing them to think of this song’s lyrics, “I thought I heard you call my name.”

Stay positive, stay strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee is being sampled and brain city is coming alive. Here’s the music. Cheers

2

Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: summerpositive

The cats and I agree, it’s a strong sun today, biting my skin with its heat, blinding my eyes (yes, what else would it be blinding — my ears?) with its light. Not supposed to be hot today, just 87 F, and it’s just 67 F now. This is Monday, Jun 24, 2024.

The cats are pratically living in the backyard, slumbering beneath bushes or stretched out, floof-napping in green patches of lawn. They come in to visit me, get fed, and use the litter box, and then dash back out. Reminds me of being a young child in the summers, doing the same with Mom. Except I didn’t use a litter box. Not in those days.

I jest, of course! Spoke with Dad yesterday. He’s down. They — the omniscient they here is the medical staff — are pushing for the dialysis port, and he doesn’t want to go through with that. He seems fazed by the surgery and claims he doesn’t want to be a burden on people, as others would need to drive him to his appointments several times a week. I’m sure he will go through with the procedure but he needs to work himself up to it. I called him this morning to chat with him but reached his voice mail. I need to call Mom to catch her up on that news. Never did call her yesterday.

Terrible flooding in the midwest. Iowa was severely hit. Evacuations were ordered and bridges collapsed. I remember flying over the plains states decades ago. The floating and the heat dome are connected events. Hope the climate doesn’t get any worse or the nation and its citizens might start getting worried. Yeah, that’s snark, baby.

My spouse picked up a nice Charles Wysocki jigsaw puzzle at Ashlandia’s library of things yesterday. I thought we should have some on hand for more Internet outages. We began the puzzle last night, even though the net didn’t go out. Lovely little beach scene featuring an old house where a high school kite flying club meets. Kites lean against an old fence in the sand and a heart shaped balloon, tethered to the gate, floats above the scene, red against a cloudy blue and white backdrop. A few sailboats skim choppy waters in the background. I can almost smell that ocean.

Other than these matters and the standard form of our days of eating, cleaning, writing, reading, it’s quiet. I accept quiet. Still recuperating with my ankle issue.

Today’s music comes by way of Willy Nelson. I was reading about his show cancellations and the article reminded me of a gay cowboy song Willy sings. The Neurons immediately began a little rendition of the song, “Cowboys Are Frequently Fond of Each Other”, in the morning mental music stream (Trademark grazing). Although Willy’s version came out back when Brokeback Mountain was gaining Oscar attention, I picked up a later version done by Willy and Orville Peck. Hope you enjoy it.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Also brace yourself for a busy news week. With more SCOTUS news forthcoming, the end of June sending up a cloud of dust as it sprints at us, and the debates and the weather, I’m sure there will be a lot to talk about, read about, and GRRRRR about.

Coffee has been sucked down. Here we. Cheers

0

Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Confloofeed

The world has dropped a Sunday bomb on Ashlandia, emphasis on sun. Little wind stir the heat. We’ll travel from our current relative pleasant found in 69 degrees to the upper eighties. Cooler than yesterday, not as hot as that endured by those under the skillet lid in the eastern U.S. Today is June 23, 2024. Next Sunday will be June’s final day. This means that almost half of 2024 has slipped by the surly calendar.

In bad news, a friend sent me stats on COVID-19, showing that it’s risin’ agin’. He saved me some time. I’d planned to look into it because eight friends reported they had it in June. Their experience was a few days with mild cold symptoms followed by two to three weeks of poor energy of any kind. One reported, she sit down with a book and go right to sleep.

I spent the morning texting with sisters. One is teaching her sixteen-year-old to drive as her newly adult high school grad takes on adulting as he preps for college this fall. She’s going down to Georgia to vacation with our oldest sister tomorrow. Meanwhile, texting me, the older sister tells me she’s had a couple strokes without elaborating on what kind. She’s always had back problems and now there’s stenosis and they want to fuse five of her vertebrae together. She’s also diabetic and has chronic kidney failure, a byproduct of her meds, she tells me.

Then there’s my middle younger sister. She and her family drove down to the Carolina coast yesterday. They’ve rented a beach house with a pool. They’re all hard workers and mo’ def’ deserve and need a vacay. Hope they’re able to relax and chill.

Meanwhile, my mind is floating around calling Dad to get an update on him and calling Mom to get an update on her and pass the update along about Dad. I’m not quite up to that yet. More coffee and some writing, first.

We had a net outage the other night. Actually, two nights in a row. This frequently happens when the heat jumps into the upper nineties. I mean degrees, not years, decade, or period.

With the net out, we read but then I surfed the television offerings. Since I cut the cable back in 2010, we survive on over-the-air digital broadcasts. We receive the big four networks, along with PBS, and the networks’ sub channels. Like NBC is channel 5.1, then there are three other networks broadcasting old shows or documentaries on channels 5.2, 5.3, and 5.4. X-Files, Two and a Half Men, Seinfeld, along with Green Acres and Hogan’s Heros, and several police/hospital/fire department-based dramas from past decades.

Watching Hogan’s Heros and its silliness, my wife and tried remembering what happened to Bob Crane. Was it suicide or murder? Bludgeoned to death, we rather later recalled, and then conneted it. (Yes, conneted is my word for ‘confirmed on the net’.)

My wife follows a tangent, recalling that Naomi Judd ended her own life. It’d shocked her and me; Naomi Judd, a lovely and talented person, seemed to have it all together, resulting in a life of artistic and commercial success. Naomi Judd, though, coped with many mental and physical health issues and decided, enough. Never know what’s happening in another’s skin and what’s passing through minds.

The final piece that evening was a sort of celebration of the Judds’ music, with my wife enthusing about their songs, like “Mama He’s Crazy” and “Girls Night Out”. But the one she particularly relished was “Turn It Loose” from 1988. She played it a few times once the net returned, heavily accenting her favorite lines by loudly singing along to them.

I love the slide of a steel guitar
I love the moan of an old blues harp
I love the shake of a tambourine
I love the bass when it’s low and mean
So put on your shoutin’ shoes
And turn it loose

h/t to Lyrics.com

It may surprise you that The Neurons in my head then loaded it up and sprang it on me this morning in my morning mental music stream (Trademark loose) as I was wandering around the kitchen, just minding my own business. So that’s today’s theme music.

Stay positive, be strong, and make what you can of the day. Needn’t be perfect. Just tryin’ can help. I’ve downed some coffee — the last gulp was cold as stone. Time to go write and roll.

Here’s the music. Cheers

2

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: upbeat and restless

Today is Saturday, June 22, 2024. Summer had asserted itself with a firm hand. A solidly blue sky gazes down on Ashlandia and bright sunshine blisters our skin and browns the land. Currently 73 F, Ashlandia’s area will experience low to mid 90s for the highs today. The wind has shifted and the smoke has drifted out of our valley to go plague others in another valley, so it’s breathable outside. Take precautions against the heat and outside activities can be pursued. It supposed to get cooler for a few days, with temperatures dipping into the eighties.

It feels like it’s been a long week. Realizing it’s Saturday surprises me. The big Biden-Trump debate looms on the calendar. Personally, I have a physical this week. Slowing down, moderately overweight, I feel like I’m aging by the day — which, yeah, we all are — so I’m not looking forward to the physical.

Mom and I spoke yesterday. She related one of her favorite precautionary tales. Her mother had a thing about smells. She was living alone, in her nineties, as her children discussed putting her into a nursing home or assisted living facility. Those discussions had stalled.

Meanwhile, on a cold December Nebraska night, her mother put on a light jacket and took a banana peel out to put in the outside trash. She slipped and fell, staying on the ground for forty-five minutes before noticed and helped. That was the end of her living alone. She lived for several more years but wasn’t the same.

On her part, Mom’s big fall over a decade ago triggered her long health decline. For my part, when I was immobilized with an obstructed bladder a few years ago, I saw changes quickly emerge. I was suddenly stiffer and less fluid in my movement. My balance felt slightly off. My metabolic rate had changed as I aged, of course, but suddenly I put on weight. Much of my muscle seemed to slack off overnight. Then, boom, my skin all seemed to be sagging.

It’s likely that all those things were happening but I didn’t notice until my routines were changed. Seeing those changes made me more cognizant of my retreating hair line, and the color fleeing my hair and beard. I feel older, slower, and weary. Reading news of the world and its people, and political news, doesn’t seem to help at all. I turn to coffee for energy boosts but I know I shouldn’t be drinking it any longer. Like Grandma and her banana peel, I can’t stop myself.

I read Jill Dennison’s blog as frequently as I can. She and I seem like kindred political spirits, part of the same tribe as many of you who regularly visit my blog and comment. I read one of Jill’s posts and commented yesterday. In her comments back to me, she mentioned that she’s looking for a rainbow.

That was like a set up for The Neurons. As soon as that was read and digested, they began playing Chris Rea’s song, “Looking for A Rainbow” from 1989, in the morning mental music stream (Trademark smoldering). The song starts out slow as it carries forward the album’s theme, The Road to Hell, but becomes jauntier and of course features Rea’s slide guitar work.

Well we come down to the valley
Yea we’re looking for the honey
I see a rainbow
I say that’s the land of milk and honey

Me and my cousin
Me and my brother
My little sister too
Come looking for a rainbow
Yea we’re looking for a rainbow

Well we come down to the valley
Got our babies in our arms
Yea we’re Maggie’s little children
And we’re looking for Maggie’s farm

Me and my cousin
Me and my brother
My little sister too
Come looking for a rainbow
Yea we’re looking for a rainbow

h/t to Genius.com

Yeah, Jill, baby, I think many of us are looking for a rainbow and the land of milk and honey. Some seem to believe the only way there is by holding others back, beating them down, or banishing them. Yes, I’m looking at you, Republicans.

Stay positive – yes, it’s hard – be strong – yes, also hard – and lean forward and Vote Blue in 2024. Maybe we can create a place that attracts rainbows. Here’s the music. Cheers

1

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: sour apple

We’re under one big cloud shield in Ashlandia, presenting us a gray, dim morning. It’s Thursday, June 20, 2024, and the summer equinox. Doesn’t seem it. Seems like spring rushed in for on more jolly. 58 F, though, we’re expecting the temperature measuring devices to show us temperatures in the high 80s.

For now, I’m hitting myself in the head regarding a series of ‘why didn’t I?’

Background: I have a toilet which won’t stop running. I’ve fixed these before so I wasn’t overly worried. That attitude didn’t help. I didn’t provide it the attention I should have. I fiddled with the flush valve and the water ceased flowing. Hurrah, right?

No, fool. I’m the fool. Not you.

I went out and bought replacement parts and I thought all was going well. So I took my time. Decided to address it late in the afternoon. Then I used the toilet and flushed. It started running; wouldn’t stop. Okay, time to fix it.

First move, turn off the water to the toilet.

It wouldn’t go off. I screwed around with that a bit. Then a bit more. And more. In fact, I wasted almost an hour on that. Okay, turn off the water to the house.

Where the hell is my shut off valve?

I walked around the house and looked for it but I’ve lived here a while and have never seen it. I researched on line for all the possibilities and searched them out. Not there, not there, not there, not there, not there. Finally found it where all said it should be, by the water meter, by the street, but it was buried. By now it’s after 8 PM. I tried turning off the water.

Couldn’t do it with my crescent wrench. Not the space to turn a crescent wrench in there, nor any other wrench. You need a special tool.

Of course! This is the age of special tools. (Cue singing, “This is the dawning of the age of special tools, age of special tools,” sung to the tune of The Fifth Dimension’s song, “Age of Aquarius”. My apologies for that. Also add a little snark about Trump and MAGAs being tools. Yeah, shame on me.)

Now this is where I really screwed up.

First, I didn’t think about rushing out and buying the special tool. My wife talked me into waiting until today to take care of it. But I can hear that water running. It’s not just a trickle, either. I can hear that waste.

Why didn’t I go to Home Depot, just a few miles up the road, and buy the tool? Why didn’t I call the city and say, hey, come turn off my water? I’d trapped myself with tunnel vision.

Obsessed with the running water sound, I woke up early and realized those things. Called the city. Asked them to send out someone to shut off the water. ‘Course, that’s not a real emergency, so it’ll take a while. Then I’ll go buy the tool so I have it on hand. And I’ll fix the shut off valve on the toilet and the stupid toilet. But I’m really disappointed in my poor judgement and weak thinking. Must not have had enough coffee.

Turning to the positive side of that, it distracted me from Mom’s situation, Dad’s hospitalization, my ankle, politics, and troubling news from around the world. Always a silver lining, isn’t there?

Finally, though, I harped on myself for not having the special tool on hand and for not knowing where my valve was. What if there had been a burst pipe in the house? I pride myself on being proactive and I was anything but all the way around with this.

People of course, will ask, why didn’t you just call a plumber? And here again, I’m up against myself: I like being self-sufficient. I like DIY. I dislike being ignorant about things and dependent on others. So, yeah, that’s all on the idiot I call me.

The incident of the toilet that won’t stop running inspired The Neurons, of course. They’ve programmed “Urgent” by Foreigner from 1981 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark: stuck).

Update: As I was typing, a worker arrived and shut off the water. I rushed out and spoke with him and learned about the dangers of turning if off myself — like breaking something, you know? A very nice guy, he’d heard the duty call phone ring while he was in a safety meeting and went out to hear the messages. Hearing mine, he left the meeting and came out and addressed my issue. Telling me to call back whenever I went it turned back on, he rushed back to the meeting. So easy; why didn’t I call them last night?

BTW, we did prepare for not having water by filling a water jug, a bucket, the coffee maker, the tea kettle, and the water pitcher in the frig. I hope that this isn’t shut off for long, but you know me, I’m an optimist.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee is in me. I have a few things I need to go take care of now, so I’m gonna go. Here’s the music.

Happy first day of summer. Cheers

0

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Humpnotized

I was gently serenaded awake by the dulcet tones of a cat upchucking somewhere nearby. Investigating, I found it was Tucker heaving up kibble and a hairball. Fortunately, I had an exercise towel down. It was for foot and leg exercises to cope with my ankle injury, based on recommendations from my sister, a physical therapist. Tucker and Papi had staked out the green towel as the new ideal napping spot in the house. That’s where Tucker was sleeping when I went to bed. Apparently, he slept there until he awoke and puked.

That’s how my Wednesday, June 19, 2024 began. Hope yours was better. I raise my coffee cup to Juneteenth and my fellow Americans who celebrate it for all the right reasons.

Spring’s hold is weakening in Ashlandia. Sprummer has burst back onto the scene. It is a beautiful blue skied morning. Sunshine baths runners, bikers, grooming cats, and everything else under the sky. 61 F, today’s high will bounce into the low 90s. With this abrupt weather shift will come high winds.

After the puke check, I squirmed back into bed, and then tumbled with dreams and thoughts. The thoughts went down a parental aisle. Dad in the hospital. Mom was there in April. The two are divorced, with new partners. They actually divorced over fifty years ago. Dad has been with his ‘new wife’ for 35 years, his third marriage. Mom has been with her beau since 2009. Family whispers say that she’s been married seven times. Mom has a secretive gene so vetting information is a challenge.

Mom professes to constant pain. She complains frequently and often about her existence, frequently demanding her daughters’ attention, repeatedly regaling all of us with tales hospital visits, doctor appointments, and health details. Going backwards, appendicities, and before that, a perforated appendix put her in the hospital. Her pacemaker was replaced. COVID hospitalization, spinal stenosis, swollen foot (but not edema, she tells me, although she had sixteen lymph nodes removed during foot surgery), and of course, fifteen years ago, the disastrous fall down the steps. She sleeps with a mask on to help with her breathing because of emphysema. Hardly able to walk, she insists on tottering around the house to clean it, though to most eyes, it’s immaculate. She takes dozens of medications, vitamins, minerals, and supplements.

Dad tells me from his hospital bed, “I’m fine,” with a chuckle. “They have a hundred doctors helping me. They want to put me on dialysis but at my age, they worry about whether I’d survive the procedure.” He’s been stented over ten years ago. Uses a wheelchair and a cane. Has oxygen at home, which he insists that he doesn’t use. Only his wife is there to help him.

Mom always complains about her beau. He can’t hear, she says, and I’ve witnessed the truth of the 94-year-old man’s hearing issues. “He’s forgetful,” she angrily hisses. “I always have to tell him things and make him lists.”

Dad’s wife laughs about Dad and his idiosyncrasies. He never says a harsh word about her.

What a difference their worlds are.

Today’s song choice by Les Neurons is a little ditty called “Twilight Zone (When the Bullet Hits the Bone)” by Golden Earring from 1982. A song inspired by an adventure spy novel, it’s presence in my morning mental music stream (Trademark split) is all on me. See, I was feeding the cats and somehow ended up singing, “You will come to know when the kibble hits the bowl.” That’s a variation of Twilight’s chorus, “You will come to know when the bullet hits the bone.”

Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue for 2024. Coffee has stolen into my body. Here is the music video. Cheers

3

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: hyperhappy (could be due to coffee)

It was the best of rains. Falling lightly and fitfully, it wet the land and added a little rise to the streams but caused no issues. That’s the best of rains.

Today is Tuesday, June 18, 2024. Spring continues holding on. Low temps last night dipped into the bottom forties. Now it’s fifty. Sunshine and blue skies reign. A high of 80 F is expected. The wind is whispering, “It’ll be 90 tomorrow.”

My wife was over at the coffee pot, leaning over and whispering to it as the coffee dribble out. Looked like she might’ve been pleading with it. I don’t know. What goes on between a person and their coffee stays between them and their coffee.

Spoke with Dad’s wife last night. We discussed his situation and DNR and Advanced Directives. He has a kidney issue and congestive heart failure. Dialysis is on the table for him but can he survive the procedure is the question. We shall see.

I spoke with him on the phone this morning after putting it off because his wife said he didn’t want to talk. He’s as spirited and congenial as ever. Sounds just as he did twenty year ago.

For fun, I watched Jon Stewart addressing GOP fears about crime. In a coink-dink, I’d checked out FoxNews.com with my morning reading yesterday. I’d already checked out a bunch of ‘liberal’ sites like the NYTimes, WaPo, the HoustonChronicle and others, so I wanted to see what was being presented in the fair and balanced realm called FoxNews.

Well, holy macaroni, that is one dark space. Everything is crashing, burning, flooding, or dying in their world. Actually, that’s pretty much happening in our existence, too, but we don’t see everything and paint it as black as possible and hyper-sensationalized it. Mind boggling.

Anyway, Stewart’s take on the GOP’s take on crime was humorous. Despite what the FBI says about crime being down, the right ‘feels’ like it’s unsafe. As Stewart points out, could it be because rightwing news outlets, pundits, and politicians keep screaming about how dangerous the cities are, despite the statistics? But the most irritating point that Stewarts latches onto, just as most Democrats do, is that the Republicans are screaming about the gun violence even though their inaction against gun controls is what allows guns to flood our cities. Like teasing a cougar and then crying because it mauled you.

For music, The Neurons rolled “Clementine”, also known by some as “Oh My Darling Clementine”, into the morning mental music stream (Trademark edgy). Wikipedia credits the song with being around in 1884, well before my birth. But I’ve heard it in movies and cartoons, and even sang it myself, so I am familiar with it. I challenged The Neurons’ thinking on this song choice. but they stayed mute as a baby’s bottom. Sometime later, they changed the song to “Gimme Some Lovin'” by the Spencer Davis Group from 1966, though again, without revealing why that song was chosen. But I’ll stay with it ‘cuz I like its energy and that organ and the whole song’s upbeat vibe.

Off to the grower’s market. Happens every Tuesday from May to September in Ashlandia, where the produce is fresh and organic. Be strong, stay positive, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Oh my darlin’, cheers

0

Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: weatherflective

It’s Monday, June 17, 2024. Ashlandia is drying out from yesterday’s late afternoon rain and more precipitation decorating the night. Branches are tangoing with the wind and a blue sky as dazzling as a diamond suggests, we have a nice day lined up for you, folks. It’s 50 degrees F out with humidity floating in the eighties and a chance for the thermometer to breach the upper sixties. Spring rules again, although all is fully bloomed, waiting for our entrance. I’m a little sneezy and itchy-eyed with allergies.

The neighborhood is so quiet, you can hear a cat meow. A flying crow chastises us as he beats wings to somewhere else. Cars roll up with stoic indifference, delivering a gentle rumble from engine and tires.

No updates on Dad. They were to call when opportunity for us to chat came. So, sigh, I wait.

Meanwhile, back in Pennsylvania, Mom is stirring up issues by claiming her beau made up an invitation that included Mom to go to a party with his family. She went to the party but did not enjoy herself because, she said, they were surprised to see her. She doesn’t think she was invited; my sister suggested, “Mom, you told them you weren’t coming. Of course they’re surprised when you showed up.”

But no, the invitation didn’t include her; it was manufactured. We don’t understand why he’d do that; discussing it logically with her is a task for someone with stronger shoulders. She doesn’t hear us, and doesn’t want to hear us. I remember taking conversations with her about this same matter fifteen years ago. It’s coloring our memories of her, making her bitter, angry, and hostile in our memories. That’s the problem with aging and living longer: we begin with a vision of who we want to be, and push efforts that way, and then our mind and body twist, erasing our vision.

Dinner with friends last night was entertaining. A jigsaw puzzle was begun. Featuring odd-shaped pieces, it’s not as fun as those with uniform shapes, even though it was an interesting scene from a museum with patrons.

This morning, we deliver for Food & Friends, and then I’m going to slip on my customary writing routine, and frequent the coffee shop. Ankle is wrapped. Swelling remains a matter to address but I don’t know how much is ankle injury and how much is my recurring edema. Ice, elevate, rest, but it’s tedious and mood-altering.

Songs came together today from thoughts of summer. Specifically, the heat wave riding others in the U.S. Out of that train, The Neurons pulled in “Standing Outside a Broken Phone Booth with Money in My Hand” from 1996 by Primitive Radio Gods. Starting with that B.B. King sample, it plays and repeats in the morning mental music stream (Trademark chillin’). See, it has a line in there, “Does summer come for everyone?” I think the ground for this song and its lazy, reflective tone by a song on another blog the other day, “Tom’s Diner” by Suzanna Vega. They have similiar feels to me.

Coffee is making the trip between the lips. Be positive, stay strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Let’s go get ’em, tiger. Here’s the music. Cheers

0

Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Springtied

Spring has hardened its grip on its final days in Ashlandia, pulling us back out of sprummer. Cloudy, chilly, blustery, partly sunny, it’s a ‘y’ day. Temperature is hanging onto 60 F now, up from the low in the 40s. In fact, the heat came on this morning because the house’s inside temperature dropped to around 66. The horror of it all. Today’s high is expected to squeeze close to 67 F.

No matter, the cats have found outside places to chill. Tucker is under the bush off the patio right beside the front door. Papi is on the other side of the yard, under the bushes by the wooden fence. With these positions, they have the entire yard covered. These two positions have been coveted and held by cats since we first moved here in 2006.

Our Father’s Day plans don’t include fathers. I’m still waiting for an update on Dad. I spoke to his wife yesterday. He was in good spirits in the hospital and the fluid around his heart was being removed. She said she’d have him call me when the chance came. My wife’s father passed away back in 1991, just after he retired, right after he turned 65.

But we have this monthly thing with friends. Social people, about my parents’ ages, they’ve become housebound with health issues so once a month, we go to dinner at their house. Food is provided by a local restaurant. We take turns paying. Sometimes we watch sumpthin’ on TV; once in a while we work on a jigsaw puzzle. More often, we just chat and visit. We missed the engagement in May as I was in Pittsburgh (well, Penn Hills) visiting Mom and family.

I have the Rolling Stones singing “The Last Time” from 1965 in my morning mental music stream (Trademark fused). The Neurons didn’t reveal a reason for the song but I’d guess it has something to do with Dad being in the hospital.

Be strong, stay positive, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee is making its way through my system, and here is the music video. Cheers

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