Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Today’s song emerged from the dream stream. In this song, they say that they drive Cadillacs in their dreams. In my dream last night, I drove a Ferrari.
The song has a simplistic sound. I enjoy its harmonies, lyrics, and the sentiments that it delivers as a soft rebuke. When I hear this song, I often pause to soak it in.
From 2013, Lorde with “Royals”.
Remember the expression, sock it to me? Maybe yes, maybe no. Our culture, especially the pop side, is an ever-changing amoeba. We’ve populated our language with expressions. They catch fire, flash through, and die. Sometimes they’re distantly remembered, especially more often now, as technology aids her ability to look back and remember.
In this case, I thought of sock it to me as part of streaming “It’s Your Thing” to myself. I was singing to myself about the things I do, and the cats for the things that they do, and mentally, to my wife, in regard to the things that she does.
“It’s your thing.” We mostly address life through avenues as individual as ourselves, seeking to do our thing. Sometimes the things seem weird to others. They can’t deviate from their paths and doing their thing to acquire the freedom to understand that you’re doing your thing. If it’s not offensive and not inflicting pain on others, why do they want us all to conform and not do our thing?
So, I want to thank The Isley Brothers for doing their thing and performing this song. They were good at doing their thing, giving us some memorable funk. Sing along. Don’t worry; the words are easy to learn.
You know, in the U.S. of A., it’s winter. Because of that, many towns are having beer festivals. At least, this is true out here in Oregon and California.
Some places call the beer festival a collaboration, a beer walk, or, if the organizers are feeling more stylish, a brewery tour. SF’s Beer Collaboration isn’t starting until Feb. 1. They have a theme, you know, like they do at a prom, Game of Thrones. I’m sure that some high school has had a Game of Thrones themed prom. That seems like it would be something like the red wedding or the prom from Carrie.
Anyway, in honor of beer strolls everywhere, I’m streaming Tom T. Hall’s 1975 classic, “I Like Beer”. Pretty self-explanatory what the song is about.
One of the cats followed me around this morning because I hadn’t fed him yet. “Hungry, buddy?” I said. “Want some kibble? Anticipating brekkie?” Naturally, I started singing, “Anticipation, anticipation is making me late, is keeping me waiting.”
That made it today’s theme music. Here’s Carly Simon, “Anticipation”, 1971. Those were the good old days.
Today brought me another Aretha Franklin classic. She didn’t write it, but she sang it with power — of course. We’re talkin’ ’bout Aretha Franklin.
Don’t know what prompted it to enter my morning stream and dance around the kitchen. I tried coaxing the housefloofs into singing and dancing with me but they were havin’ none of it, preferring to sit down and disparage me with judgmental stares.
Here we go, “Chain of Fools” (1967). It’s good hump day music, ya know?
Once again, a debt is owed to the house clowder for coming up with a song. One cat was briefly absent, prompting me to say, “Where have you gone?” That was enough to let “Good Thing” (1989) by Fine Young Cannibals shoot into the morning stream. The cat turned up almost immediately after I began singing the song. My cats are always curious about me when I start talking, singing, or typing, apparently thinking, “What’s that sound he’s making? I better go check on him to see if he’s okay.”
Discussing my dreams with the cats as I fed the coffee maker and overfloofs, we went out for the paper and agreed, yep, just another day.
Paul McCartney’s song, “Another Day” (1971), squirted into my stream. Milliseconds later, I’m singing, “It’s just another day. At the office where the papers grow, she takes a break,
drinks another coffee and she finds it hard to stay awake, do do do dit do do. It’s just another day.”
The song is an observation of a woman’s life as she cleans, dresses, and works. Under that melody and the surface word, as they sing, “So sad, sometimes she feels so sad,” is a sense of milieu ringing through other pop-rock songs of that era, is this it? Is this life? And accepting that, yes, this is life, people hunt escape. It’s just another day, over and over and over, going through motions while looking and hoping for some unspoken other thing.
I’d heard about friends breaking up as a couple, and the difficulty one was experiencing afterward. Their story prompting Neil Sedaka’s song, “Breaking Up Is Hard To Do” to stream into my mind. I wasn’t thinking of his bouncy original from 1962, but the slower 1975 ballad that he released. I thought the latter showed a more adult approach to the lyrics and sentiments of breaking up. Anyone who’s gone through it knows how hard it can be.
After feeding the cats, I read the news and skimmed social media while drinking a mornin’ cuppa. After reading a bit o’ America’s plight, the rush toward extinction of the Monarch Butterfly, some murder and scandal updates, I was ready to move on. Thinking, gotta get away from that same old, same old, I need a chance just to get away. If you could hear me thinking, this is what I’d say.
Poison’s song, “Nothin’ but a Good Time” (1988) burst into my stream. It was almost like their video.
Hah. Yeah, right.
Fixing the cats and mumbling to the coffee this morning, I streamed remembered dreams and pondered forgotten songs. The morass cleared after I ate some kibble and gave the cats some coffee. Losing its turbidity (a word of which I’m quite fond), the stream drew down into Joe Walsh with “All Night Long”, from Urban Cowboy, 1980.
Michael Seidel, writer 