Woke up to a sunny Easter morning that had a freshly dyed blue sky. Wow, gorgeous, I told Papi. He studiously ignored me; cool cats aren’t seen talking to their people outside.
It was in the mid 40s then with an anticipated high of 58 F on the horizon. Now clouds cover the horizon and snuffs out the sunshine. It’s still just 46 but feels much chillier with a hidden sun.
This is March 31, 2024, the last day of 2024’s first quarter. How does your quarter measure in retrospect? Were you able to reach some goals, mark off some tasks, or pass some finish lines?
It’s a mixed bag for me. Definitely reached some goals, accomplished some tasks, and crossed some finished lines. Each felt rewarding or satisfying. Each also spoke up as reminders about how much more I have to do in multiple areas. Let the second quarter begin.
Not much planned for the day. Off to Sunday Brunch at a friend’s house. Twenty of us are invited. Each is bringing a dish or two. We’ll be set up outdoors.
I don’t think the clouds were invited but they’ve gathered like they’re going to be there, too. It’s become considerably darker.
For reasons known only to the most powerful of my Neurons Overlords, I have the Go-Go’s performing “Vacation” (`982) in the morning mental music stream (Trademark sunny).
Remain positive and be strong. Lean forward and Vote Blue. Happy Easter, if that’s your bag. Have a great day, no matter what your religion. Cheers
It’s the next to last day of March. Day before Easter. Saturday, March 30, 2024.
We’ve got sunshine snaking around gray masses of condensed water vapor drifting across the blue-wave sky. Temperature is 50 F and some rain is anticipated, with a high of 56 F in the forecast. March winds are blowing.
There is so much news to digest and think about. Writing about multiple events is possible but I won’t, today, sparing you all. As writer Amanda Marcotte wrote in a Salon article, many ideas and stories surrounding Trump and the MAGA GOP can be labeled, “Shocking, not surprising.”
I’d rather stay away from that and focus on my fiction writing. Part of that is because I’m in an enjoyable phase, rev 6 of one of the works in progress. A second part is that I’m weary of the often-exasperating news, like the MAGA GOP kneejerk response to the demolished Maryland bridge. Then there’s a third factor, that due to Sunday brunch with friends tomorrow, I’ll probably not be writing tomorrow. So I’m trying to get ahead.
I will say — because I have little impulse control, I suppose — that the video of the Dari cargo ship striking the Francis Scott Key bridge and the bridge’s collapse is stunning.
Music for today comes from 1975. I can’t parse why The Neurons plugged it into the morning mental music stream (Trademark sinking). That’s the way of The Neurons. (Is that a novel title? The Way of the Neurons.)
My Neurons like hijacking my brain (which might be called brainjacking, I guess), and the body follows. Like, I’ll go into the kitchen to get a glass of water and suddenly I’m eating cookies, no explanations given. It’s like my Neurons have me hypnotized.
Anyway, today’s theme music is brought to us by the Ozark Mountain Daredevils. “Jackie Blue” was soft country rock song released in 1975, a year after I graduated high school. I was in the U.S. Air Force then and heard it regularly on my car’s AM radio. 1975 was the year of my first duty assignment, Wright-Patterson Air Force Base in Ohio, and the year I was married. That was my first wedding, and remains my only wedding, and the marriage still endures. “Jackie Blue” and being at WPAFB and getting married seems fused in my head. So when I heard the song today in the MMMS, I remembered young me as I took on adulting.
Stay positive, be stalwart, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has already been swallowed in significant quantities, so let’s listen to the music. Cheers
Rain claims the sky again. May not stay. Bursts break out of clouds, and then the sun breaks show with a flash of light. Brisk winds burst through the valley, shaking the trees and sending shivers through my knees, before rain kisses us again.
This is spring. This is Friday, March 29, 2024. It’s 50 F and several y’s are present — sunny-cloudy-rainy-windy-chilly. Think we’re within 2, 3 degrees of the thermometer’s upper level for this March day. Snow comes and leaves on the northern and eastern peaks over the last three days. How’s the weather in your life zone?
First, a floof update. Tucker continues a trouble-free recovery. I knocked off the opiates. Just thought he was being over medicated. He’s eating, sleeping, and moving well. I make him a cup of grain-free kibble softened with hot water, and he dives into a bowl like an osprey coming down from the sky on a hunt. After eating today, he gently washed his face and paws before tucking back into nap position. Fingers crossed that this all continues.
The Neurons loaded “Alone” by Heart into the morning mental music stream (Trademark plummeting). The song was invited into the MMMS by the line, “No answer on the telephone.”
I’d called a friend. No answer. No voice mail or answering machine. Seems ominous.
I talked to the cats about it (they were the only ones around). They agreed with me, no answer on a telephone call is surreal in this era. Some mechanized or e-response is typical if a live voice isn’t heard. But to hear the ringing continue…strange. I called again to ensure I had the number correct. I let it ring until twenty rings had filled the air. Twenty rings, an absurd amount, before giving up.
The song commenced in the MMMS a few seconds after I relayed my experience to the floofies. We — me and The Neurons — went from there. Personally, I always enjoyed the hard rock ballad. Then again, I seem drawn to hard rock ballads. Could be that they appeal to my romantic side, or the solitude inculcated by my work and travel draws me to that sort of music.
Persist to be positive and strong, lean forward toward progress and a better future, and Vote Blue. Coffee has caffeinated my brain cells, so I’m good to go. Here’s the music. Oh, wait, it’s sunny again, and the wind has become a friendly zephyr. For now.
Now it’s cloudy. Wind is beating the coffee shop umbrella. Rain veils are crossing the mountains.
Round and round, here we go, another March in another year (yeah, still 2024), another Thursday in another week. It’s the 28th. This month of this year is almost done, and with its passing, one fourth of 2024 is history.
Chilly, cloudy, rainy. That’s my adjectives for today. Snow capped the highest peaks around the valley to the north yesterday. The rain just fell and fell.
Rain has stopped today. After dropping to the upper thirties last night, we’ve crept up to 51 F degrees. That’s close to the day’s upper limit.
The big news from my perspective is that Tucker survived his surgery. Back home, he’s recovering, mostly hanging out in the office where we hang out, by the space heater where my wife hangs out. Slept with me last night, purring away. He’s doing well after having all teeth removed due to refractory stomatitis gingivitis. The RSG often led to inflamed, bleeding gums for my boy, and just became progressively worse.
Recovery involves a great deal of painkillers. Painkillers mean sleep. Buprenorphine two to three times a day. A mild opioid, this makes Tucker glassy eyed. It’s on top of his other painkiller twice a day.
He’s also on a soft food diet for the next two weeks. That’ll be a challenge for the kibble chief. The black and white fur fellow loves his kibble.
Today’s song is by Ratt. “Round and Round” was released in 1984. It’s Ratt’s highest charting song, and it’s probably the best known number for the group.
It began going around and around my morning mental music stream (Trademark in the mail) after reading news. First, again. These days just go round and round. I cycle through the news cycles. Other than war, murder, and disasters, the rest of the news seems to be on permanent spin. Trials. Elections. Misinformation. “Biden is too old! Biden is too old!” Give me a break.
Round and round, Marjorie Taylor Green is threatening to unseat a GOP House Speaker again. Same ol’ antics that she did before. Hey, dear, what goes around comes around, you know? Just ask Ronna McDaniel, previously of the RNC, more recently of NBC News. The stuff she spread during her RNC days — just doing her job, officer — has come back to haunt her.
Or ask President Biden’s predecessor. Now facing prosecution for the things he did and said. Round and round, what goes around — you get it, right?
BTW, for those unfamiliar with Ratt, they were glam rockers, part of the big hair movement of the 1980s. The big hair glam rockers had lots of hair. We could often barely see their faces because of their long, frequently curly, wavy, fluffy, and well, BIG, hair. One of our past rock movements. What goes around is supposed to come around again, right? It is happening among the TikTok Alphas. They like fat leg pants, which is what I wore in the early 1970s. And I hear many embrace the old-style phones.
Well, we’ll see if big hair glam rock returns from the grave.
Stay positive, hang on, lean forward, and Vote Blue. Please. Coffee has cometh and is being consumedeth. Here’s the nostalgic video. Hope your day is a powerful one for you.
Hi world. Began this Wezday, March 27, 2024, with a recap of weird dreams.
The ‘Wezday’ thing came from this cute little girl visiting the coffee shop today. Looked like she was two. Dressed in yellow, with pink plastic boots with pictures on them. She was in line with her group a few yards away. I don’t know what was being discussed by the adults but she suddenly announced in a huge stage voice, “I know tomorrow is Wezday. Tomorrow is Wezday. I know.”
That bought a laugh from many of us.
It’s rainy today, 50 F, with an expected high a few degrees north of 50. Blue sky and sunshine are both shying away from our valley for the moment. They might emerge to show they exist later.
Left the house at 7 AM to take Tucker in for his surgery. Arrived there ten minutes early. He was not pleased. He’d been cut off from eating last night at 10 PM. I fed him the best that I could because I know what was coming.
Today at 6 AM, he went to where his kibble usually resides. When he discovered it wasn’t there, he began grumbling. It was soon as loud as approaching thunder, if the thunder had a meow sound embedded it. I get him back between three and five this afternoon. My fingers are crossed, etc, that all goes well. I have a good feeling about it, but these things can go awry fast.
So after my dream recap, I was talking to myself, Tucker, and Papi. Papi wasn’t going to be fed until after I left. My wife would give him food. I wasn’t eating until I came back from dropping off Tucker. Just a sympathy thing; wasn’t fair for me to eat if he couldn’t.
Anyway, while having this conversation, I might have employed the expression, “I’m not crazy.” Within a short while, The Neurons had Rob Thomas of Matchbox Twenty singing, “I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell,” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark evaporating). The 2003 song, “Unwell”, sat well in my pscyhe as music for today. Give it a listen and let me know what you think.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote. Is that too much to ask? Ask me again after my coffee, okay?
March 26, 2024 is a Tuesday. I mention it because it is upon us. Winter and spring heroics are vivdly displayed in a skybleau vivant of blue, gray, and white pieces. Rain was here yesterday and last night. Might it come again today? All signs point to ask again later. It’s 42 F. Sunshine is shimmering in around the clouds, alleviating the chill. 58. That’s what they say our high will be.
When I looked out at the mixed composition of clouds, The Neurons began “Cloud Nine” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark cloudy). I enjoy the 1968 song by The Temptations. It sets up a tempting tableau.
(Cloud 9) [Paul:] You can be what you wanna be. (Cloud 9) [Dennis:] You ain’t got no responsibility. (Cloud 9) [Eddie:] Every man, every man is free. (Cloud 9) [Dennis:] You’re a million miles from reality
The interplay by the singers and the upbeat tempo and optimistic lyrics made it a childhood favorite. Don’t mind it in the morning mental music stream at all.
When I was young, I wondered, “Why cloud nine?” What’s going on with clouds one through eight? Are there higher clouds? Like, number ten?
The first question was answered by a teacher. Sort of. He suggested that “Cloud Nine” was from Dante’s Paradiso. As a twelve-year-old, I’d never heard of it. An elderly neighbor later said it was about angels. In a meteorology class in the Air Force, a sergeant talked about the classifications of clouds, telling us that nine is the highest level of clouds.
While musing about it today, I found a neat little article on udiscovermusic.com covering these things. They also noted that it used to be cloud seven used as a euphoric state.
‘Indeed, improbable as it sounds, as far back as 1896, the first edition of the International Cloud Atlas defined ten types of cloud, of which the cumulonimbus, rising to 6.2 miles, was declared the highest that a cloud could be. In 1960, the Dictionary Of American Slang defined “cloud seven” – not nine – as meaning “in a euphoric state.”’
Despite all this, today’s edition of “Cloud Nine” is by Beach Bunny. It’s a 2020 TikTok hit and no at all like he 1968 beats. I like checking out TikTok to see what our young are tuning into and heard the song on there. I don’t recall when. But dialing up the song today on YouTube reminded me of it existence. So I’m playing it just to spite The Neurons. Yes, it’s petty.
I’ve read Beach Bunny’s song described as a ‘giddy love song’. With a quick beat and a breathless, sometimes abrupt delivery, that seems like an apt description for the quick little number.
Stay strong, be positive, lean forward, and vote blue if you’re’n the U.S. and a citizen, etc. Coffee has been served. French roast. Here’s Beach Bunny. Cheers
Hi, fellow space voyagers. It’s Monday, March 25, 2024, on spaceship Earth. Rainy out here in Ashlandia this morning, the weather gods are now throwing sunshine our way. It’s 52 F.
I have bust a move in mind this morning. I awoke to dull sunlight pressing forward through the blinds. Tucker was asleep beside me. After checking the time, I told him, “Come on, time to bust a move. Or at least, go pee.”
As I took care of business, I thought of that expression, bust a move. The Neurons immediately activated the song “Busta Move” in my morning mental music stream (Trademark imploding). “Busta Move” was released by Young MC in 1989 and was quickly a hit and a dance floor favorite.
But I was thinking about the origins of the expression, “bust a move”. It seemed like we were using it before the song came out. It just meant, come on, move fast, to me. “Get going.” Then the song came out, and it was about getting up and dancing. Either way, it was about quickly doing something which generally involved a risk. When I thought about it more, it seemed like the Marines I was working with in the mid 1980s were using the expression to mean, come on, let’s go.
Maybe I’m remembering all that wrong but it is declared today’s song. I was telling myself to bust a move in conjunction with plans under contemplation.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote blue. I’ve had coffee, thanks. Haven’t finished a cup yet, but it’s my third attempt. Enjoy the music. Let’s busta move. Cheers
The calendar keeps clicking around on its infinite rounds. Today is Sunday, March 24, 2024. Easter is next Sunday. Then April commences.
“Only Happy When It Rains”. “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head”. “No Rain”.
I awoke zero dark thirtyish to rain drumming. With a chuckle, my nasty Neurons started feeding rain-themed songs into the morning mental music stream (Trademark impending).
“I Can’t Stand the Rain.” “Singing in the Rain”.
I cursed the Neurons and then explained that it was hours before I was getting up. I requested of them, shut down the music so I can sleep.
“Rainy Day Women”. “Fire and Rain”. “Box of Rain”. “Rain on the Scarecrow”.
The Neurons laughed. Sleep in. Just enjoy the music for now.
“Kentucky Rain”. “Rain Fall Down”.
I mean, there was Garbage and Blind Melon. John Mellencamp. Gordon Lightfoot. Neil Sedaka. Buddy Holly. Elvis. BJ Thomas. Guns ‘N Roses. Julie Andrews. Clapton. The Pogues. The Beatles. Madonna. Tom Petty. ELO. The Grateful Dead. Tina Turner. That’s just a few of them. Do you realize how many songs about rain are out there? Geez.
I finally fell back to sleep after the Cowsills began “The Rain, The Park & Other Things (I Love The Flower Girl)” from 1967. It’s a mellow pop song and I think the rain was fading at that point. Tucker, my black and white floof, had crawled into bed beside my head and was purring like a BMW V12, a soothing sound.
In between the rain songs, my mind busied itself with sifting through dream remnants. Then I began writing fiction in my head. Bottom line, it wasn’t a restful night. A nap is planned for later.
Sunshine has broken through but fog and clouds dominate the skyscape. 40 F now, 51 F is supposed to be reached before the day shuts down. I went out a few minutes ago with coffee. Stood on the porch, looking, listening. It smells and feels like spring. Air seems warmer than forty. Then, because I was barefoot, in shorts and a tee, I scurried back inside.
Stay positive, be strong, and vote. I’ll do the same, if possible, when possible. Well, it’s a daily goal. Sometimes I reach it but I keep trying. More coffee, stat. Here we go. Enjoy the music. Cheers
Winter’s turn continues to erode our confidence that spring has actually arrived. Rain. Heavy clouds signaling more rain may be falling. 51 F with milky, intermittent sunshine. Could be bleaker but something about this pulls me down.
I’m not alone in feeling a downward tug. Before I mentioned it, another friend announced that he felt blah and blamed it on the weather change from sunshine and warm air to cold rain. Others quickly agreed with him. Several wondered if we’d get snow. Then came memories of March and April snowstorms fro previous years. I volunteered the time I remembered walking down the street in early July and looked across the valley at the snow on Grizzly. Wow, the others exclaimed.
The cats are back in the house. Papi tried the front door, side door, and back door, in and out times three, before acknowledging with plaintive meows, there’s no sunshine. The sunshine is gone! Where is the sunshine? Stop the rain. Make it stop.
“Can’t, little buddy,” I answered the ginger blade. “You’ll need to endure, just like us.”
Tail up but a sulky look over his shoulder to me, he headed for the bed.
The Neurons loaded the Clash into the morning mental music stream (Trademark floundering). The song is “The Magnificent Seven”. Now, the original 1960 movie which went by that name was a favorite of mine but was a remake of a 1954 Japanese movie Seven Samari, released in the US as a film called, The Magnificent Seven. The 2016 remake was called The Magnificent Seven. It wasn’t bad. I suspect the next edition of The Magnificent Seven movie will be set in space, or maybe another planet.
Anyway, the Clash’s song, “The Magnificent Seven”, is a punk statement on society’s states, especially as people’s buttons are pushed to conform, go to work, and enjoy the entertainment provided. Keep up with what’s going on by buying the latest consumer goods and you’ll be happy, because you’ve been told, that’s how it is. Seems fit to me as we plug in, turn on, and tune out, feasting on whatever powers our pleasure centers: shopping, cooking, games, sports, hunting, television, movies, books, fashion, TikTok, the net.
Well, now I’m depressed. Thanks, neurons. Think I’ll go escape into a novel. Shut up, neurons. They’re so eager to laugh and mock me when I act hypocritically by conforming to the mores and norms. Bloody hell.
Stay positive (ahem), lean forward, be strong, and vote. Think I’ll nurse more coffee and escape into my writing. It’s a safe place. Here’s the video. Cheers
Greetings to my life companions on Earth. We are annotating today as Friday, March 22, 2024.
Spring is supposed to be here, but last night’s air was thick with wintery smells and feels. The palette for this morning’s sky had no blue but a great range of greys. Some were smoothed across with a palette knife. Others were swept around with fan brushes, merging and muddying the shades and shapes.
The sun wasn’t included as an element in the sky. 54 F now, some say we’ll surmount 62 F today. Doubts are stirring as rain falls and the clouds maintain a firm front against sunlight.
Multiple dreams are recalled from last night’s sleep session. One emerged almost intact as a short tale about cats and their nine lives. Others were recorded. Might share one of the others.
My wife told me that today’s news was so depressing. I had avoided reading news by focusing on my dreams and reading a novel which is engrossing me, so I asked, “What news?” She shared the projected profit which Donald Trump might realize with the Truth Social/DWAC merger. The rich get richer.
Then there was The Donald’s claim that he has $500,000,000 in cash. Does it surprise you if I told you that’s contrary to what his lawyers have been saying in public and telling the court? Does it make you question that if that’s the case, why hasn’t he been able to get the bonds he needed? Certainly makes me wonder these things. I’m not an expert in any of it though.
As WaPo notes, “Trump’s suggestion sharply contrasts what his lawyers told a New York appellate court earlier this week that it would be “a practical impossibility” for him to post a bond covering the full amount. His lawyers cited rejections from 30 bond underwriters in their request for a stay of enforcement on the judgment.”
I bet this will raise some questions in the Judiciary.
Shouldn’t be a surprise with the quagmire of thinking in my head that The Neurons delivered Asia and “Only Time Will Tell” to the morning mental music stream (Trademarked over a million times, maybe a billion times). We’re wanting on the outcomes of several Trump trials, along with a few SCOTUS rulings, and trials for other Trump-aligned individuals, like Rudy G. and Mike L. Only time will tell, we often tell one another.
Anyway, Asia’s song was released in 1982. Easy, simple lyrics, and a robust but progressive rock sound made it a hit.
Stay positive, lean forward toward a better future, and vote. Coffee has energized The Neurons. Here we go. Enjoy the music. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 