A light rain falls in some Ashlandia neighborhoods, where the traffic is light and the pace is slow. Petrichor’s smells ease into my nose and raise my spirits. Love that smell. Reminds of everything and everywhere and nothing and nowhere. Goes well with my black coffee’s bright, sharp scent.
Glad to report that Tucker continues his comeback. He’s gained weight and energy, and has become more talkative.
That all took Papi by surprise. Unaware of Tucker’s improving health and increasing energy, Papi pranced up to Tucker and indulged in a sniff.
Whipping around like a startled cougar, Tucker snapped out a left paw, just missing Papi as the latter jumped back, snapping, “Meowww!” I think “Meowww” meant, “Whoa, dude, chill, I was just smelling you. Didn’t mean to offend you. My bad.”
Floofish is an economical language.
Today’s music comes by way of a song. Sounds silly but listen up. As I went about my morning, I was suddenly hearing “There Is Nothin’ Like A Dame” from the musical, South Pacific, in my morning mental music stream (Trademark staged).
Hearing it, I queried of The Neurons why that song was playing. Those cheeky monkeys responded with The Eagles singing, “I Can’t Tell You Why” from 1979.
So that’s where I’m at. Stay pos, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Cheers
It’s Saturday, June 1, 2024. The year is plowing into its second half. Probably will be as fucked up as the first half, perhaps more. The board has been set for that.
I’m back home, where I’m happy to be, although I was living a good life back in Penn Hills, visiting with family and enjoying Mom’s company. I can tell you about the long day of travel to reach home but I made it unscathed. Although it’s much better than taken wagon across the nation or driving backroads in something like a Ford Model T, this mess of late arrivals and departures, full flights, and constant jockeying for a place in an aircraft feels like the new norm. Airports must be thrilled; bet business is up at all those airport restaurants, and that’s probably good for the restaurant. Airlines are probably indifferent: the bottom line is financial and not customer satisfaction.
It’s a pleasant 79 F here in Ashlandia, where the ground is dry and the greenery is browning. Left the house Thursday at 5:30 AM back in Penn Hills, got home Friday at about 1. Been playing catch up since. That’s what you do when you return from traveling. But my wife, cats, and house all seem fine, as does the town.
I leaned about former POTUS Trump’s convictions while traveling. I was surprised. I honestly anticipated a hung jury and can tell you I’m really happy to have been wrong.
Listening to reactions since amuses me but brought little surprise. His stout supporters, which seems to be most of the GOP these days, still insist that the doddering, inept individual who is too old to be POTUS has pulled another one over Trump and the GOP. While I don’t agree with their characterization of President Biden, even the GOP must admit that their party and its candidate must be woefully unprepared and even more inept to allow President Biden to take down the GOP and Trump as he’s apparently done. I mean, to cast President Biden as so incapable and then have someone that’s so incapable beat Trump and the GOP down so completely must feel like a huge burn.
But no; they can’t hold such reasoning in their mind. Even though some of them claim Trump is sent by God. Guess their God abandoned them. It’s bizarre and sad thinking over there in MAGA Land.
Telling you, though, I think this trial chewed Trump up. Here he is, one unsullied by justice and the legal system suddenly being forced to sit in a courtroom and listen to the truth being told about him. Hearing 34 times that he’s guilty. Hearing twelve impartial jurors saying that he’s guilty.
Look at him. He looks tired. Worn out. OLD.
Listen to that speech after he left the courtroom. OLD. TIRED. LISTLESS.
Yes, his mojo took a big hit.
Today’s morning mental music stream (Trademark unsullied) comes from Taylor Momsen. Seems that a bat bit The Pretty Reckless vocalist when they were opening for AC/DC. I thought, that’s pretty fucked up.
Bang, The Neurons leaped on that. See, one of The Pretty Reckless’s songs is “Fucked Up World” from 2014. It’s a fairly raw rocker:
Back to these back door bitches begging me to behave Jamming Jesus down my throat, no, I don’t wanna be saved Ain’t a chain on my brain, I’m nobody’s slave I got one foot in the cradle and one in the grave
Here we go, Tuesday, May 28, 2024. Tornados have been messing with large swaths of the U.S. resulting in death and destruction. I’m thankful it’s milder here in the Churchill Valley, although it’s worrisome that lightning apparently struck a house and put it on fire.
Unevenly shaped, rough clouds muddle this morning’s pale blue sky. Sunshine skates in and out. It’s a cool but pleasant 60 F out. Today’s high will flex around 70 F. Thunderstorms and rain are in our close future.
Mom is doing well. Well is a relative term. She’s always expressing weariness and pain; those are regular life features for her. But she buzzed around the house, getting downstairs to do her laundry as only she can do it. She ate well. And she watched television, cursing Trump, wondering again who and why anyone would vote for “that thug”. ‘Idiot’ is sometimes subbed for ‘thug’. I need to remind her to do her property tax senior rebate.
After all the local holidays and birthday parties, I’m afraid that we’re running out of desserts. We only have remnants of angel food cake, a chocolate chip cake, coconut cream pie, an almost whole large apple pie, half of a tuxedo cake with chocolate mousse, and pecan sticky buns. It’s looking grim.
Tonight I visit with my sister’s family again. Tomorrow night is my nephew’s graduation. Thursday, I wing my way out of the area on an Alaska Air flight. Fingers crossed that all goes well with the flight and weather. I’m already working out the packing logistics to account for items added while here.
I ended up with “Stick Season” by Noah Kahan (2020) in the morning mental music stream (Trademark sharp). This almost stream of consciousness song about who the singer is after the changes wrapped up with a relationship’s end just mesmerizes me. It felt like a natural as I thought of my relatives’ lives, as well as my own, and where I’m at, and where they’re at. In our conversations about these things, struggles, failures, success, and frustrations were discussed, sometimes in short, sharp anecdotes and confidential revelations, but often through a long lens of reflection.
Let’s get on the move. Stay positive, be strong, and go forward. Also Vote Blue this year, okay? It’ll help us be strong and move forward.
Coffee is being gulped down and my pulse has resumed. Here’s the music. Have a strong day. Cheers
Like many on the east coast of the U.S., it’s a wet one here in the Churchill Valley. Blue sky has retreated as gray clouds carpet out most of the sun. 66 degrees F at this point, 79 F might be the temperatures’ upside.
I’m staying in one of the suburban areas east of Pittsburgh. Many parts of the city lost power due to storms this past weekend. We’ve been fortunate, knock wood.
Awoke today feeling little rested after a night of scarcely remembered fractious dreams. One dream piece recalled featured police officers. One turned into a human sized cat. The other cop became a frog and hopped away. I awoke wondering what their names were. I usually remember dreams pretty vividly so not remembering them causes me to ask, “Damn, what’s wrong with me that I’m not remembering my dreams?”
Had a satisfying and comfortable Memorial Day visit with my sister’s family. This is again one of the young sisters. I have three of them, all smart, who always throw open their doors and welcome me to their home and their table. None of them will let me pay for anything, which, while I appreciate, also vexes me. I love them and their families.
Satisfying and delicious food was on the table yesterday, of course. Pasta salad. Calico beans without the bacon. Corn souffle. Rice and cheese with broccoli, meatballs, and hamburgers with or without cheese. Hard to resist my stomach’s urgers to “Eat more, eat more,” even though I was quite full. Desserts included cakes, fruit with angel food cat, and key lime and apple pies. Yeah, we’re a fortunate family in regards of having food and shelter security, and a family that gets along reasonably well.
Mom is doing okay. She was down a bit yesterday, with a cranky overlay. I suspect this came around from getting up early to dress and leave for the cookout. It was starting at 1, so the timing forced her out of her returns and comfort zones.
When I wrote a previous phrase, ‘It’s a wet one,’ Der Neurons pushed “Smooth” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark flooded). “Smooth” is a ’99 collaboration between Carlos Santana and Rob Thomas, and was written by Itaal Shur and Thomas. It’s a smooth rock offering, with strong lyrics, wonderful percussion, and some soaring Santana licks.
Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee is already fueling me and sunshine has overcome some of the clouds. Hey, ho, here we go, slinking toward the May’s finish. Here’s the music.
Note: Returned home to discover a technical glitch in The Neurons resulted in a failure to launch.
Mood: understated
Good day. Please come in, come in. Welcome to May 26, 2024. It’s 65 F now, sunny with blue sky outlining a fleet of sulking white clouds. Thunderstorms are possible.
Thunderstorms struck yesterday
Today is part of the middle of the Memorial Day weekend. Take a mo’ to recall all those who lost their lives trying to support the United States’ ideals of freedom, equality, justice, and independence. I know those ideals have always taken some shots. Written by white men, it was mostly written to white men’s benefit. Females and other races were eventually ‘given’ the same rights and benefits as white men.
Well, that’s what it said in the words and documents. They’re based on ideals and logic. Emotions are harder to wrestle. People who don’t like those changes are hostile members of our nation and are regularly rolling over our ideals while bizarrely claiming to be promoting our ideals through their abhorrent behavior. It’s a headscratcher.
My sisters and BIL and I went to the Pitt Floyd show in Oakmont last night. It’s a beautiful old theater, and we had a good time. Most of my good time was because I was with family. The sisters and I laughed and acted silly, and BIL gave perfect support.
The music was okay, as were the accoustics. The show could have used a good sound engineer to balance the notes and volumes, but we can’t have everything. Hearing the collection of PF songs fired a spectrum of emotions. Their early music came out while I was a teenager. Their music was part of my life as albums came out and I went to their shows and cheered the new stuff. They aged, of course. Several members died. This is life. I thank them all for their talents, and thank last night’s musicians for their talents, too.
I had a bizarre incident after I left the show. I’ve been having an issue with my right foot. A matter of pain, motion, and support. Those facets all wax and wane, sometimes limiting my effort to properly walk but generally ceasing after a few minutes.
Well, last night, we left the show. Encountering the band’s female vocalist, we complimented her for the show and her talents. Then, walking across the street, I made a step and turn.
Snap, went my right foot. Crack followed. My foot released its support. My right leg felt like it was kicked out from under me.
I caught myself before I went over. Pain burned through my right foot. Righting myself, I hobbled to the car. By the time I was home, agony has established a home in that foot. Diclofenac Sodium Topical Gel was liberally applied. I slept with my foot on a pile of pillows. It was an uncomfortable night. As a 68 year old man who drank two beers earlier, I had to pee twice. Fortunately, I found an unused cane.
I stayed home this morning, eschewing writing, instead icing, exercising, and massaging my foot. I can’t see any swelling or discoloration. It’s not working right, especially when standing on it alone as I put on my underwear, and going down the steps. Especially the down part. I will live, however.
With Pink Floyd’s songs ringing in my brain and thoughts of the nation’s founders mixing in my head, The Neurons dropped a Pink Floyd tune into the morning mental music stream (Trademark censored). Mom and I had been talking about political news and she commented, “I wonder what the men who wrote the Constitution would say about what’s going on.”
Boom! The Neurons plugged “Wish You Were Here” in. What would John Adams et al say about our current situation? I think they would need to be updated about history, like the American Civil War, the Civil Rights Movement, the ERA, Roe v. Wade and Dobbs decisions, and the other wars which shaped our nation and world.
I don’t know what those guys would say. I’d hope that they’d condemn Trump’s lies and hateful propaganda. I hope they would chastise Trump’s supporters for their appalling ignorance and hypocrisy. I hope they would lecture the corporations for their greed, newspapers for doing a poor job of informing the citizenry, and come down on we citizens for not being being more involved in our nations affairs and our poor voting records.
Enjoy your day. Be strong. Vote Blue in 2024. Gotta go. A cookout calls.
Pervasive bright sunshine announced another day was starting in the Churchill Valley.
It’s Saturday, May 25, 2024. A brand-new Saturday, its warranty covers everyhing that might happen, except climate change, politics, war, protests, and natural disasters.* Besides the forementioned sunshine, it was 68 F outside. Clouds were forming for a parade but not stopping the heat from coming on. We expect a high of 83 F but we’re also expecting thunderstorms.
Reading the news today, The Neurons ended up putting “The Pretender” by the Foo Fighters (2007) into the morning mental music stream (Trademark indicted). With all the ‘pretender possibilities out there in rock music land, I had to pause to hunt down, why is this rocker stomper prevailing in the MMMS?
Coffee-fueled noodling about the song, and I concluded, it’s about the song’s chaos, tension, and its threats of violence, and what might happen. Reminds me of the here and now in he U.S.
Fresh coffee has been poured and consumed. I’m ready to keep on keeping on. Be strong, remain positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here is the music. Hang on. Cheers
*Other restrictions may apply. Warranty voided at midnight. Non-transferrable.
Today is Friday, May 24, 24. The door to the four-day Memorial Day weekend has cracked open. While the valley’s high will be about 83 F today, it’s now 69 F under a blue sky marred by sketchy cotton being stretched apart.
Started early today, helping Mom log on to a video call to get her hospital bed approved. Now I’m on the coffee shop spaceship, accepting coffee gifts to pour into my mouth. I’ve found it’s best to drink the coffee. I’ve tried pouring it on me but the results of that aren’t nearly as refreshing.
Tomorrow night, several sisters and I and a BIL are going to Oakmont to watch Pitt Floyd. Then, Sunday is a cookout at another sister’s house. Wednesday is my nephew’s graduation ceremony. Thursday I’m on a manmade bird out of here and winging west.
Today’s music was because The Neurons like a particular set of versus. The Lemon Twigs came out with “Small Victories on Later” back in 2018. The Neurons like these lyrics and have them rotating through the morning mental music stream (Trademark later).
But all is well and all is merry Even when the times are scary Every generation is the same Resulting in this fear illusion Is a void that breeds confusion Leading to a population tame
Now I can tell you for certain that this song’s place in me head was triggered by my ruminations about politics. The Republicans have evolved this fear-filled message that’s all they’re really running on for over twenty years. No real policies, just fears about what Democrats will do — take your guns, cause inflation, let illegal immigrants in, change your children into something else — a nauseating fabric predicated on baseless conspiracies and consistent lying. “Climate change is fake,” they scream as weather becomes more violent and extreme. GOP leadership responds by changing lies to disallow saying climate change or taking action against climate change. Their supporters respond, “We’re saved. Thank God they outlawed those words and actions. Let’s go make money.”
Meanwhile, Dems are establishing policies, coming up with plans, working with the international community, etc., managing threats against the country, and managing the economy. As those don’t seem to hold most voters attention, they’re now pointing out how the Trump-led is a threat against our democratic republic. Democrats and liberals point out Trump’s many lies, and the growing number of lies the GOP put out there, like the big lie, that the 2020 election was stolen.
It’s bizarrely becoming a war of fear vs fear that reminds me of the old Mad Magazine’s feature, “Spy vs. Spy”.
Enjoy the weather, enjoy the day, enjoy whatever games you play. Enjoy the coffee, enjoy the drink, and try to understand what others think.
The weather has dialed it back a scooch. Only 65 F now, we’ll peak at only 80 F today in the Churchill Valley. Thunderstorms are suggested for later today but we didn’t get within sniffy distance of them yesterday. Was supposed to rain, too. Around 4 PM, I asked Alexa when it would rain. Alexa replied, “The rain will stop in a few minutes.”
That flabbergasted me. There was naught but sunshine and some towering cumulonimbus beast. We did eventually catch rain but that was after the sun’s show had gone over the horizon.
In personal news, Mom’s first cleaning service went well. Mom and the cleaner have known one another for over 20 years, and like each other. Kathy did an impressive job. I was pleased all around.
I’ve bought my tickets to return to Ashlandia at the end of next week.
One of last night’s dream featured my wife. We were both young and healthy, as it once was. The dream triggered The Neurons’ memories. They ended up inserting “I’ll Tumble 4 Ya” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark dreamy). This was a Culture Club song. My wife likes it because it’s one of her exercise tunes, and the base of several jokes with her exercise instructor and fellow exercise mates.
Stay positive, remain strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. I have coffee spilling into the body. Here’s the video. Cheers
Dawn’s rosy blush quickly accelerated into sharp-edged sunshine. The wind is whispering, “Summer is coming.” 68 F now, we’re expected to troll through the mid 80s as a high in the Churchill Valley where I’m still staying. Clouds are mostly absent but more are expected. So are thunderstorms.
This is Wednesday, May 22, 2024.
Rudy Giuliana and ten others pleaded not guilty Tuesday to nine felony charges accusing them of conspiring to overturn the 2020 election results in Arizona. Not surprised that they went with not guilty. Standard reaction. Seems like impressive evidence for the charges exist. These individuals signed documents saying they were the electors when there was all kinds of evidence that they weren’t. The defendants face multiple felony counts, including forgery, conspiracy, and fraud.
But as we see with Trump’s current trial, getting justice delivered hinges on how words are delivered and interpreted. Anyone in a relationship can understand the I said/they said fluidity of the words’ meanings. The same thing has hampered us as a nation for years in the US when discussing the Second Amendment. We’re a nation divided by words.
Actually, it’s more than words dividing us. Serious differences in principles about rights, wealth, government reach, taxes, laws, and justice divide us.
I’ve been watching the Trump Trial on MSNBC. Part of the spectacle is Trump’s supporters showing up in color-coordinated suits and ties. That’s a symbol of their solidarity. Impressive, right? Yeah, that’s snark.
As a result of that, though, The Neurons fed “Gotta Serve Somebody” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark undefined). The 1979 Bob Dylan song seemed so appropriate for those Trumpettes. Dylan sings, “You gotta serve somebody. It may be the devil, it may be the lord, but you gotta serve somebody.”
That works, right? Trump is the embodiment of the devil for about half of us. The other half has many who think Trump was sent by God. Many of us hearing that respond, “WTF?”
Anyway, that’s today’s theme music.
I urge you, remain positive about what can happen and be strong. It’ll help if you get out there and Vote Blue.
Coffee is being siphoned up. Here’s the music. Have a superb day. Cheers
It’s 65 F. That’s the low for Penn Hills in the Churchill Valley today. The house’s east side is being sunblasted. Clouds? Yes, some particles are stringing together thin white cloud structures. The thermometer is supposed to stop up by 90 F today. It’s Tuesday, May 21, 2024.
Mom’s energy was strong yesterday, a change from the usual. See, there was a birthday celebration on Sunday. Mom was there for about five hours. Normally, such outings deplete her energy stores, so the day after leaves her listless.
But not yesterday. She was spirited and energetic, good to witness. Did her exercises and was quite engaged. Holding my breath on today, but I hope we’re seeing a new trend’s beginning.
I was thinking about my brother-in-law. Married to my oldest younger sisters, he and I have known one another for fifty years, since we were seventeen. Long time to know another who isn’t related or married to you. Sad for me, he swung toward the right wing over thirty years ago and is now a full-blown MAGAr. That limits our conversation and introduces some awkwardness. We’ve tried talking around it, but he often introduces racist or sexist comments, and has that MAGA habit of ignoring one set of facts while adhering to another. Yet, I’m looking forward to being a guest at his house his weekend for a Memorial Day cook-out.
My family is big into gathering for holidays and eating food. Memorial Day cookouts are the standard, even though the starting lineup has changed, and new players have been added through marriages, divorces, deaths, and births.
The Neurons have introduced “Tin Man” to the morning mental music stream (Trademark well-done). I don’t know why. The 1974 song by America has no discernible links to my dreams IMO. Nor are there conversation or activity links. For that matter, the mellow, comfortable song has silly lyrics. Lots of hooks and easy to sing with, but little deep to it.
That’s okay. Maybe The Neurons are ordering me to chill.
BTW, today is birthday boy’s actual birthday. So happy sixteenth, Michael. May your days be as complete and fulfilling as you dream them.
Michael Seidel, writer 