

Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not

Welcome to Thanksgiving Day in the United States, Thursday, November 25, 2021. My wife has turned on the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade being broadcast from New York. She loves watching that. It’s part of her tradition.
Out walking yesterday, my mind treated me to a series of songs. First up, “Getting to know you, getting to know all about you. Getting to like you, getting to hope you like me.” That was followed by, “Give my regards to Broadway. Remember me in Herold Square. Tell all the gang at Forty Second street, that I will soon be there.” Then, though, my brain suggested, “Isn’t it Trafalgar Square?” What? Another brain section wondered if it wasn’t “Lester Square.”
I think my brain is trying to drive me nuts.
Sunrise came upon us at 7:13 AM and sunset will cometh at 4:43 PM. Temperatures were at 32 F when I arose but it’s now 36. We expect 56 under a pale blue sky.
We’ll be going to a Friendsgiving celebration this year. It was skipped last year but we’ve been doing this for ten years or so. Folks who live out at a farm invite others each year. It’s limited to twelve people this year, all vaccinated and boosted. We’re taking a sweet potato casserole which my wife made yesterday and an appetizer tray.
Meanwhile, a Roxette song, “It Must Have Been Love” (1987) is occupying the morning mental music stream. Don’t know why this song is there. Maybe I heard a snippet from it sometime yesterday. Could be from dreams; had a long train of dreams last night. Some were sexy and a few were funny. Too many to go through, though.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax and booster when you can. If you celebrate Thanksgiving, Happy Thanksgiving to you. Hope it’s memorable and fun, with minimal stress. Otherwise, seize the day, wherever you are. I’m gonna seize a cuppa coffee. That’s how I start. Here’s the music. Cheers

The dream began with a gathering and an agreement. I and two other men would take eight women around on a trip. Don, a friend, was one of the other men. I didn’t know the women but, dressed in white toga gowns, they seemed like friends.
We hopped into a big light blue convertible. I never clearly glimpsed the car, but the imprint gained was it was a large American machine from the sixties. A ’63 Chevy Impala comes to mind. Don’t know any that would fit eleven of us, though. The trip commenced with traffic lights, talk, and confusion about where we were and we were going, never with arguments, though. Just discussions. One stop was a busy water park. The other men and I hadn’t been participating in the women’s activities; we were their drivers and guides. Now, though, we stripped down to shorts and ran through the park, playing in water.
But, it was time for a wedding! That’s why we were here. And I was getting married. I needed to rush to shower and get into suitable wedding attire, which seemed to be black jeans with a black shirt. Dressing as I went, I ran to the church and — that was that. No ceremony ensued. Next that I knew, the wedding was over. The trip was finished.
The women said good-byes. Sitting on the car hood side by side, Don invited me on another trip. He was going and thought I’d be interested. Two trips were available. He described them. As he described the second (no words from it are remembered), I interjected, “That’s the one that I want.”
He smiled. “I thought you would. It’s their traditional thanksgiving, and I was pretty sure that you’d want to go.” We talked about the food. He was smiling, reassuring me, yes, there would be gravy, turkey with stuffing, and mash potatoes.
I grew hungry and excited. Agreeing that I wanted to go, we got into the shiny, light blue convertible with Don driving. The dream ended.
Welcome to Thanksgiving in America. It’s not the shiny spectacle that we strive to create in the United States. In a lot of ways, today is like flipping back through history pages, and seeing an ugly time, and wondering, how did those people get through that?
Yes, Thanksgiving is a holiday, innit? My holiday vibe is a bit subdued today. I tried being upbeat, but, yes, I’m a little weary. A little pandemic’d out. A little elections exhausted, blended with hues of a little tarnished life syndrome. Gosh, this wasn’t how it was supposed to be, was it? No, not for this snowflake. As an average white American male, we’re not supposed to know shit like this. That’s for other people. Guess I have a tiny inkling about what those others endured.
Not really. No abusive parents. No food insecurities. No wondering if anyone, police or otherwise, are going to shoot me. No worrying about paying the rent or getting a job, or so much other shit that’s heaped on people through the sperm lottery. (Should the sperm lottery be called a spottery? It seems spotty, doesn’t it, hit and miss, about who has what.)
I don’t have COVID-19. I’m aging and male, so I cope with some enlarged prostate, some BHP. (I think that’s the proper letter combos.) I broke an arm in July, leaving me to rehab that arm, hand, wrist, and shoulder. (Yeah, it continues to improve…I think…) I have a lifelong pre-existing condition, hypertension, that I deal with. I’m a hopeful novelist, so I have all the angst, hope, and collective feelings associated with that.
Compiling the bottom line, I have a lot to be thankful for. Yet the blues have me today.
As it’s a holiday, I’m indulging myself with a blues favorite. Yes, it’s a repeat song, from a few years ago. Nothing like the blues to lift you, right?
Here’s Stevie Ray Vaughn and Double Trouble with “Cold Shot”. It’s a video of a live performing, as I wish he was, back when I was young.
Happy holidays. Yeah, and wear a mask, please. Time to go get some coffee cake and coffee. My wife made the coffee cake last night for today. Yeah, life’s not so bad here. Cheers
Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble – Cold Shot (Live From Austin, TX) – YouTube
I had a wonderful Thanksgiving meal. Good friends, casual friends, and new friends were there.
During one point in the evening, I remarked, “Times are changed, times are strange.” Then I thought, wait a minute, those are song lyrics? What’s the song?
The song noodled in and out of my thinking stream through dinner and into after-dinner conversation until, eureka, yes, that’s from Ozzy Osbourne, “Mama, I’m Coming Home” (1991). After remembering that, the song stayed in my head through the night and into the morning.
So, here it is. I could be right, I could be wrong, but I think this is a good Friday theme song.
It’s Thanksgiving in the United States today, a holiday imbued with myths and traditions, and many memories for someone like me.
I have some wonderful Thanksgiving memories. Mom worked hard to make holidays a success — except Mother’s Day (yeah, d’uh, she took the day off, didn’t she?) — and Thanksgiving was always terrific at her house. Later, in the military, my wife took on the same role. Overseas, she coordinated and orchestrated Thanksgiving dinner among several families, and we always invited the single people to come over so they felt less alone.
I benefited from that, too. My Uncle and his family had me over for Thanksgiving when I was in basic training, saving me from a chowhall dinner. I had a great time with them. There were other Thanksgivings with co-workers’ families a few times when I was stationed overseas on temporary unaccompanied duty, like the time with Tony’s family in the Philippines. There were also a couple chowhall Thanksgivings, though.
All that brought the Alan Parsons Project song, “Time” (1981). It came out the year that we reported for duty in Germany. We lived off based that first year, and it was one of the times when it was just my wife and I. It was still memorable.
Why “Time”? Because of the lines, “But time keeps flowing like a river, to the sea.”
Yep, although it does make me think, there’s a sea of time out there, somewhere.
Sitting down at the coffee shop to write on this Thanksgiving Day in America, I pause to give thanks for how lucky I’ve been. I frequently complain but most of these are first world blues or the general venting against how the world functions in this life-experience-reality-existence.
I could enumerate the many ways that I’ve been lucky, but I don’t think that’s needed. Little of it has been within my control. I’m thankful for the strokes of luck that made and keep me fortunate. That doesn’t mean that I’ve not had bad times, but that I’ve always been able to recover. I wish others the same sort of luck, and that you have the security and health to pursue your dreams.
Now, I have my coffee. With that brief word of thanks, it’s time to write and edit like crazy, at least one more time. Sure, it’s a holiday, but the muses gotta write.