Tag: traveling

So Easy

Daily writing prompt
What do you wish you could do more every day?
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This is such an easy question to answer. I wish I could write more every day. Yes, fill my cup with coffee and let me write without end. I’m talking about fiction writing. Novels and such. I really enjoy writing fiction.

I also wish I could eat more every day. I’m limited in my eating by obscure factors like sodium in foods, gaining weight, and staying healthy. So I’m restricted in how much I can eat every day. It’s a shame, too, because there are many foods which I really enjoy and would like to eat more every day. Like, right now, I could really go for a piece of pie. Blueberry. With ice cream.

Of course, I’d also like to socialize more every day. I’m writing, and that’s not a social activity, speaking for myself, of course, so that limits how much time I have to socialize. A few more hours of socializing every day would be good for me, I think. So I wish that I could socialize more every day.

Spending more time reading is also something I’d wish to be able to do more every day. I love reading, and there are so many awesome writers out there. So many great novels, books, essays, and articles to read. While I’m at it, I also wish to study more every day. I would love to be able to spend time deeply studying art, architecture, and history, along with literature and quantum mechanics.

Then again, if I could, I wish I could spend more time with my wife every day. She’s an intelligent person and a lot of fun.

Another wish I’d have is to be able to visit with my family more every day. They live in other parts of the country, so it takes time and money to visit them, and doing so interrupts my other wishes. But if we had a teleporter, I could probably make it work.

While I’m thinking about it, I also wish I could travel more. I’ve done some traveling, mostly around the United States, Far East, some northern Africa, and Europe. I’ve rarely been south of the equator, so I’d like to visit ruins and cultures in the southern latitutes. I wish I could travel more every day and go to places like Australia, New Zealand, Brazil, and Antarctica. I’ve also always wanted to visit Sri Lanka.

I also wish I could time travel more every day. I’ve learned through hard experience that time travel has a lot of perks but man, when you screw it up, it’s downright hard to fix. There’s a lot of things I need to apologize to the world about which has happened because of my botched time traveling. I feel really guilty about it, too, but if I can just find the time — ha, sorry about that, that pun wasn’t planned — I wish I could time travel more every day.

Since I’m confessing, I’d also wish to be able to see the future more every day. You know, predict things. But time travel has screwed that up, too, as has my dimension clones. If it wasn’t for them bouncing between dimensions, I’d have a much better life and would be way better at seeing the future. I think we all would. But, anyway…

Other than that brief list, there’s nothing I wish to do more every day. Oh, except exercise. And paint. I painted a great deal when I was young but not so much as an adult. I wish I could paint more every day.

Oh, and go fishing.

Other than those few things, there’s nothing.

Oh, except sleeping. I really wish I could sleep more every day.

But that’s all.

Except, I wish I could just relax and do nothing more every day. Because I really am lazy at heart.

And that’s it. There is no more.

Well, except for a few DIY projects around the house. I wish I had time to do more DIY every day.

And that’s all.

I think.

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

It was a weird juxtaposition.

I parked in the coffee shop’s lot. A silver SUV battle scar from its travels had the front passenger door open. I glanced that way. It seemed like the SUV was someone’s home. A woman was in the seat, her foot sticking out the open door, as she painted her toenails pink.

I thought of multiple things associated with painting nails. To feel and look attractive. Or maybe to fit in. To seem normal to others. You know, norms, values, mores, judgements. Or carrying forward from the past, trying to remain that person they were.

Then again, I could be all wrong. Might be that they’re not living in their car. They could just be a traveler, pausing to get coffee, taking advantage of a break in their schedule to do their nails.

It’s the kind of scene that inspires questions and thinking about our life and society.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: flightrupted

It’s Thursday, May 30, 2024. Beautiful light blue sky with a little haze is outside the window. Sunny and 52 F.

I’m seeing the world through the Pittsburgh airport windows waiting for my Alaska Air flight. I was supposed to be leaving at 7:50 AM. About six minutes from now. Instead, estimated take off is now 9:18 AM.

That prevents me from my next leg, which was to be my final leg, Seattle WA to Medford OR. Now I’m going from Seattle to Salt Lake City to Medford. Instead of arriving about noon in Medord, I’m arriving about midnight. That sucks for my wife, who is picking me up.

Yeah, it’s all first world blues, innit? Still have food and a decent life. Just a series of bumps on this travel day, so I’m whining about it. I mean, I’m not out in a storm or getting shot at. I’m wired with a computer and reading the news.

And there’s a comic aspect. As I cope with these fight changes, the airline is urging me to start planning my next flight with them.

With this skewed schedule echoing in my head, The Neurons have Molly Hatchett performing “Flirtin’ with Disaster” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark delayed). The 1979 song isn’t quite right for the situation but I’d need to feed them more java before The Neurons will come up with something better.

Thank you to my sweetheart of a little sister and her daughter for getting up and picking me up and driving me to the airport. They’re both awesome people. They’re always doing things for me and treating me like a friggin’ prince, so I’m always in debt to them.

I’m coffeeing up. Stay positive, be strong, and lean forward. Let’s Vote Blue this year, shall we?

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood:

It was a night of interesting dreams.

Now it’s day. May 5, 2024. Rain. 56 F. Sea of clouds. High in the low sixties. A week until Mother’s Day. Jostling about what to do for Mom for Mom’s Day will begin this week.

Mom is doing well. Energy levels seem up. I had to harangue her to do her physical therapy exercises yesterday. Following her obsessive compulsive behavior, she wanted to clean. The day before, it was to clean the kitchen. Yesterday, it was vacuum. I took that over from her after failing to talk her out of it. Wonder what cleaning she’ll insist on today. Bet it’s the laundry. The entire time she’s doing these cleaning tasks, she complains about her back pain and cries out in pain, talks about how hot and tired she feels, and how she needs to sit down. Yet she cleans on. It’s a lifetime of habit and conditioning driving her. Hard to break that.

Little sister L is scheduled to visit. She’s bringing over vegetable soup. It’s good vegetable soup weather. I am looking forward to it.

Meanwhile, I went to little sister G’s house last night, visiting with her gang. Had dinner of turkey meat loaf with mashed potatoes and roasted carrots with onions. All so delicious. Dessert was then bakery three berry pie, also excellent. Her hubby bought some excellent beer and I two of those. We watched the Derby, an exciting race with a surprising outcome.

The Neurons loaded “All I Need Is A Miracle” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark dizzying). The Mike +The Mechanics song was released in 1986 and was from another CD that saw a lot of play as I drove around the southeastern U.S. on military assignments.

I am absolutely certain that a dream inspired The Neurons’ offering to the stream. One of the dream’s acts included meeting a woman who was really attractive to me. But I’m married, as she was, and I didn’t want to indulge in affairs. But noticing my interest in her, she decided to come after me. Flattered, I remained true to my fidelity and rejected her. This went back and forth throughout the dream. She eventually told me that all she needs is a miracle. And there we are.

As for the song, it’s classic 1980s techno-rock, with that beat, bass line, and keyboards. Harbors lots of memories and good times for moi, as we said in those days.

Stay positive and strong, be sharp and ready, and Vote Blue in 2024. I’m at the coffee shop and we’ve had sip off. Here’s the video. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Visative

My computer said, “Looks like you’re in Penn Hills, PA.”

I replied, “What ’bout it? You trying to start something?”

“No,” the machine said, “just asking, you know, you want the local time and weather?”

Yes, I’m at Mom’s house in Penn Hills, back to help out as I can. I went out to get fresh morning air at 9 AM. Humid, warm air slapped my face. I’m dribbling sweat from my pits. I’s 73 F with a high of 84 F coming up. Light rain is expected at 5 PM. The Neurons are like, what is this stuff, humidity?

A stranger in a strange land vibe flucuates. Mom and Frank are the same as ever but gravity is apparently stronger here. They move more slowly, even sluggishly. I’m noticed the same gravity effect on myself; steps I used to quasi-bound up — couldn’t do too much bounding, with their steep rake, narrow confines, and small tread — are carefully navigated. Humidity and gravity. I never expected them to betray me.

My visit is open-ended but I think it’s on a short leash. I want to give my sisters and Mom’s boyfriend a little break from having to do everything for Mom.

Yesterday was a travel day. Left the house at 11 AM and arrived at Mom’s place at midnight. Two flights. Both United. One of the two was on-time for a 50% rate. Not bad? I had to scramble between flights in Denver as the next flight was already boarding. It seemed like over half the people on my United Boeing 737 flight rowed were in the same straits. We rushed out of the jetway like ants scrambling from an anthill under duress.

I’m in the kitchen, sipping coffee, listening to the upstairs sounds drift back down to me as they awake and dress to meet the day. I let them sleep in. I know how good sleep can feel.

With that background, The Neurons fed Dire Straits, “Sultans of Swing”, into the morning mental music stream. Released in the U.S. in 1979, this was the one which first made folks like me ask, “Who are these guys?” Since its release, I’ve grown fond of Mark Knopfler’s many talents. This puts it all on display.

Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. As noted, I went onto the coffee car already and got my caffeinated assist. Here we go.

Cheers

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Another Military Dream

Been some months since I’ve had a military dream. I was in the military for twenty-one years, and the military formed my life structure for those years. I first joined in October, 1975, so I shouldn’t be surprised that The Neurons are fostering dreams about that segment of my life.

The dream found me a young man again. I was traveling in my office work blues with my fruit salad on my chest, and going alone. I’d arrived somewhere to make a connection with a civilian airline. I was expected but needed to get to the airline counter to check in, pay for the ticket, receive the ticket and boarding pass, and check my bag.

In a line to enter the terminal with others, I thought I heard my last name called. I looked around at the twenty-something individuals outside doing things. Some seemed to be looking for something but that’s not indicative of anything in an airport. No one called me again. I decided I’d imagined it.

Then I heard it again. Twice. Looking again, I called out, “Did anyone call Seidel?”

People weren’t paying attention. Raising my voice, I repeated my question. Others shook their heads.

By now, the line into the terminal had moved on without me. My flight time was getting disturbing close and I was way behind where I wanted to be.

I heard my name called again. It seemed like it was right behind me.

I whirled. A woman in a marigold shirt was there. I asked, “Did you say something? Are you looking for someone?”

She replied, “I said, ‘sigh’.”

‘Sigh’ sounds just like the first syllable of my last name. “Why did you say that?” I asked her.

She gestured at the scenery beyond the airport. Blue skies, and an ocean vista of whitecaps and splashed sunshine. “Look how beautiful it is. How can I not sigh?”

A young woman exited the building. Walking up to me, she said, “I’ve been calling you.” She handed me my ticket.

I was dumbfounded. “I thought I still had to pay.”

She shook her head while backing away. “It’s already paid for.” Pivoted, she went back into the terminal.

Pleased with that development, I rationalized that I must have been hearing my name on a PA system, although I didn’t see any speakers. No matter; one problem was solved. I just needed to check my bag and head for the gate.

Another woman had set up a taped off area on the land with red masking tape. For some reasons that I don’t understand, I decided that was for getting my baggage ready to be checked.

I went over and spread the bag on the ground and repacked it. The woman came up and asked me what I was doing. Apologetically, I explained. She waved that off and pointed to where I should take my bag.

That’s where the dream ended.

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: restless

Yes, it’s Tuesday, 8/19/23, and we’re ready to go home. Leaving on a jet plane tomorrow AM around 7, pushing us to leave the hotel at five, pushing us to get up at 4:40 AM. Ah, the inconvenience of modern travel. Still better than what it was one hundred years ago. Trying getting a flight back in the 1920s.

Meanwhile, this last day has extraordinary weather to me. Overcast, with a casual threat of rain, temperatures are hanging around the mid 60s F with some spitty hope it’ll hit 70. Don’t think it will, but the smell and feel is tres comfy to me. Sort of nostalgic and invigorating, a delightful blend, which would make a fortune if I could bottle it.

Sort of saddish ending to the trip. My sisters are busy with personal matters and their lives and we can’t get with them for that. Would like to have spent more time with them but after the wedding, the spouse and I sort of crashed, probably a reflex to relief that we’d made it, had done our part, and so on.

Now we’re focusing on getting home — see that first paragraph. We spoke to our floofsitter yesterday. She assured us all was well with the Tucker & Papi show. It’s been hot so they haven’t been eating much, which is how they often become. I’ll get home and indulge them with some extra late evening feeding and treats.

We are visiting Mom with the spare hours, and enjoying her company, along with her partner, Frank. Mom had an energy explosion in the afternoon. Inspired by the song “Hey! Baby” by Bruce Channel (1962). She was struggling to remember the song and as she spoke, the song came to mind and I sang it for her. That was it; Alexa was instructed to play it so she could sing along.

Then came David Lee Roth’s 1985 cover of “Just a Gigolo/I Ain’t Got Nobody”. She and Frank began dancing, which was fun to see; her health issues, especially with balance and mobility, have curtailed her dancing, and that was the couple’s favorite pastimes, besides eating. They still enjoy eating; I don’t know how and why they don’t wear more. They always have food on hand, and it didn’t help that my spouse and I took more food to them several times — cannolis, rolled eggplant, and one of their favors, KFC.

Well, that second song caught Les Neuron’s attention last night. They dropped it into the morning mental music stream (Trademark faltering), along with “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” by Tears for Fear, which arose from a dream. I went with ‘Mom’s song’ for the theme music.

Stay pos, be strong, don’t worry, be happy. Love life as best as you can. I’ve have had coffee, but help yourself. Here’s the beats. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: watchful

Tuesday, September 12, 2023. At the airport. 5:05 AM, bracing myself against the chilly night air. Dawn is haranguing the eastern darkness. We were picked up at 4:20, deposited here at 4:45, waiting for our flight now. Seems to be on time. Travelers trapped in drowsy amber drag bags, watching, listening, killing time, anxiously fidgeting. My wife and I settle and chat. Worries and anxieties are voiced on her end. I do what I can to reassure her. I’ve traveled a lot, usually alone, and just roll as I need to. She tends to work herself up into indignation and irritation.

The Neurons are playing “Leaving on A Jet Plane”. John Denver. Mama Cass. Peter, Paul, and Marry.

Of course The Neurons are playing this. What else would they be playing? Well, they’re The Neurons, so that query is wholly hypothetical. They shift to “Silver Bird”. Mark Lindsay. “Jet Airliner” – Steve Miller – comes up, which is then replaced by Pink Floyd, “Learning to Fly”. “The Letter” by The Four Tops – “Give me a ticket for an aeroplane” – supersedes it, then it’s another “Learning to Fly”, this time by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. “Come Fly with Me”, Frank Sinatra follows.

I’m reminded of how it used to be to fly, when friends, relatives, lovers would escort people down to the gate. Can’t do that these days. That’s all left beyond the security’s other side.

Then a woman tells the child with her, “Come here, stand by me.” And that changes where The Neurons are hanging around. Let that, I hear “Stand By Me”, but it’s the version made by “Playing for Change”. Okay, I’ll take that, Neurons. If I can ever harness their energy, I might be able to get more done.

So here we are, and there we go, today’s theme music. I’m looking forward to getting on the aircraft and going back to sleep as we wing down to SFO from southern Oregon. Then, after I board that next flight, I’ll indulge in a cuppa joe. Just a few more minutes and boarding will begin.

Stay pos, test negative, be strong, and remain on course. Time to board. Here’s the tune. See ya. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: mixed

It’s Monday, July 31, 2023. Yes, this time it really is Monday. Yesterday had me thinking Sunday was Monday. I have it screwed on right.

So, it’s a mixed mood. We’re on the beach, renting a house in Gold Beach with friends. That’s our back porch view from 8 AM. Not bad. Clear weather, about 60 degrees F, full sunshine, the whole shebang.

Here to relax with others. But I miss my writing and routines. I’m required to socialize, and I’m awkward at doing so. Especially when solitude and silence are scarce. My wife is sympathetic — she does know me after over years of being together from middle teens to now — but t’ain’t anything to be done about it. Things collide.

Interesting tense moment during the drive yesterday. Was on a two-lane highway, third car in line, carving up the mountains between southern Oregon and Nor Cal at a speed varying from 55 to 65 MPH. heading for the coast. Rounding a corner, I saw a woman starting to cross the road. I then saw her stepping back. A truck in the other lane was stopped to turn. I looked back up in time to see the two cars ahead of me slam on their brakes. Shouting, “Jesus Christ,” because I knew I couldn’t stop in time, I veered into the other lane and flattened the brake pedal against the floor. As I wrestled with the steering to keep the car straight, the car slewed about, tires chirping, chassis shuddering, traction control and antilock kicking in. We stopped and no one was hit. While I appreciated that the first car’s driver was being polite, stopping on a highway around a blind corner where the speed limit is 65 might not be sensible. Afterward, my wife and I agreed, we didn’t need any coffee for the day.

Der Neurons chose today’s music based on another moment from yesterday. Last night, I went upstairs to bed. I was last and it was late. I didn’t want to turn on lights and disturb anyone, so I went up in the complete darkness. Man, was it black and lightless. Going slowly, feeling with my feet as I climbed, I experienced a weird sensation that the black ahead of me was solid. What a trip.

Anyway, thinking about it, Les Neurons punched up “On the Dark Side” by Eddie and the Cruisers, aka, John Cafferty and the Beaver Brown Band for the morning mental music stream (trademark explored).

Now I’m off to trek the beach for a while before the sea breeze cranks up too high. Stay pos, be strong, and live the day. No coffee for me, thanks; already had two cups.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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A Driving Dream

My wife, SIL, and I needed to take a trip. I procured a car for us, paying cash for it. It just happens that it looked just like the 1968 Camaro RS I owned in RL in 1975, complete with stripes and black vinyl top, a fun, reliable, and sporty car. In the dream, I didn’t know that it was like my Camaro of my youth because we were youths.

I don’t know why we were traveling by car, other than going from point A to B. Tucker, a current RL cat, was traveling with us. My SIL and I took turns driving, although I did most of it. At one point while I was driving, I suddenly couldn’t control the speed. I was telling them that in the car as I tried braking, kicking the accelerator, and then trying to take the car, an automatic, out of gear, attempting to put it into neutral. When I couldn’t move the center console shifter, I concluded, “I think we’ve lost the transmission.”

I managed to get the car stopped. We got out to talk and stretch our legs. My wife was inattentive and left the car door open. Tucker immediately leaped out. I caught him and then scolded her for leaving the door open and letting Tucker out. She dismissed me and what had happened, which irked me. We decided to go on. I thought for a moment that she was going to drive, which I didn’t want for some reason. I then drove again.

We arrived at a hotel and in a dream blink, we were checked in and up in our room. I think it was in Chicago. It was a large, lavish suite, which included a butler of sorts who was also pressing us to eat or drink, telling us each time, “It’s free.” I didn’t think it was free, but included in the room. At one point, we discussed going out to dinner. The butler started making suggestions about where to go. My SIL was reading about our room during the conversation and asked, “Do you know what floor we’re on?” As my wife replied, “No,” SIL said, “We’re on the 668th floor.”

I went over to the huge windows and looked out. Seeing how high we were, I gasped. “Wow. Why are we so high?”

Dream end.

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