Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I’m away from home, so I worry about my floofies. Per the instructions I left with the cats, I logged onto Zoom today at the appointed time. They immediately joined to purr and complain to me. A little of both. They said the weather isn’t bad the human caretaker I hire was doing ‘okay’.
Yeah, that’s fantasy. There wasn’t a Zoom con with the cats. I did call the caretaker and she said they’re doing great. Next best thing to being there with them.
Mood: purply, sparkly
Woo-hoo, it’s August of 2023. Let’s give it up for August, everyone. August is ready to come in here and be special for you.
Yep, it’s Tuesday, August 1, 2023. I’m still Gold Beach, where the streets are quiet and the sea is blue. It’s 56 now. Seabreeze doesn’t clock in until later in the AM so it’s tranquil down by the waves. Perfect time for a long walk by the ocean. Flat, the beach is a few miles long.
We’ll be going up the river today. Taking a Mail Boat tour. Mail used to be delivered inland via the river since there were no roads. There will be a two hour stop for dinner at the lodge in Agness. Agness as a stop give us a little trepidation, as that’s the sight of the Flat fire which has been going on over a month. Firefighters are staging here in Gold Beach, among other places, so we see them all over. Most are very friendly and will give detailed accounts of their impressions of the fire. It’s still less than 20 percent contained.
I’m a little surprised by The Neurons’ music choice for my morning mental music stream (trademark foolish). They have Whitesnake with “Here I Go Again” playing. Those neurons might be a little crazy.
Stay positive, be strong, and carry on. Coffee service has begun. Pleasant to chug it on the back porch while watching the waves and feeling the ocean air. Here’s the music.
Cheers
He always found himself waiting or planning for the next thing, as if he was trapped in some personal version of “The Jolly Corner”. The next season, the next birthday, the next death.
The next marriage, the next divorce, the next trip, the next vacation..
The next election, the political scandal, the next mass murder.
Next step in finishing a novel, the next novel to write, the next meal, the next task, job, bill, the next expense.
He kept reminding himself, stop. Stay in the moment and enjoy. But the next always kept coming.
Always.
Sunday used to be the day for going out and doing things fun. Might not be so for your culture or region. I know Sunday was held back by many families for worship and visiting with other families, or for quiet days at home. But for mine, a day of rest meant going on picnics, hitting the beach, grilling out, or going to movies or amusement parks. If not that, it was back to playing ball, some kind, somewhere.
I was a shift worker for the first ten years of my military career, which diluted Sunday’s importance. As hourly and shift workers know, your schedule dictates the day of the weeks for your personal agenda. Monday is the first day of work and Friday is your last, regardless of the true date. Naturally, there were clashes between my work week and the real world work week. If real Sunday is my Friday, work would be generally quiet in the military but the urge to cut loose and relax was there. Really didn’t happen on Sunday. Also, I worked rotating shifts so my Friday ended at 6 or 7 AM, after an 8- or 12-hours shift.
Today is Sunday, April 23, 2023. 56 F, we expect 68 F. Rained during the night, and the ground is drying as clouds cut out the sunshine and its effects. But after entering Ashlandia’s air at 6:17 this morning, the sun has tangoed around the clouds, limning gray edges with silver. It is spring out there, to which I say, huzzah. Sunset will take Ashlandia’s sun away at 8:02 PM. The cats are certainly enjoying it, luxuriating in sunshine whenever they stop to wash, watch, play, or sleep.
Having just returned from a short vacay, I’m already contemplating another. Getting into the spirit, The Neurons (TN, as they like to be called) brought up Weezer’s 2001 medley, “Island in the Sun”. I like the mellow tune about being relaxed. It’s a keeper.
Hit the refresh button. Begin again, another day, another effort, another chance, another outcome. Stay pos. Here we go with Weezer. Hip, hip. I’m off for coffee. Hip, hip. Cheers
Note or two: Saving or publishing this post today was a pain. WP wouldn’t load. Wouldn’t save a draft of this. Hung while trying to publish, once, twice, thrice. MW, other posts were created. Just this one wouldn’t go up. Drove me nuts. Of course, most things drive me nuts when they won’t work as expected. Was finally able to publish by not putting in any tags, etc. So it was published in stages – post, a few categories, added words and changes, next a few tags, finally the last of the tags.
It’s morning in Yachats. The mythical blue sky has still not been seen. The sun is playing hide and seek. We’ve been looking but it’s well hidden. Stormed all day on the coast. Rain from dawn to midnight. Gusts and gales. Rocking storm surge. Temperatures gamboled from 41 F to 42 F.
Birds returned today. They headed for shelter just like the rest of us yesterday. The rain paid a brief AM visit today, drops scampering across the roof and ground, tapering off to a mere shower. Supposed to be cresting 50 today but we’ll be gone, climbing back over the mountains and south to Ashlandia where the weather ghosts advise it’s more of the same. It’s Friday, April 21, 2023. My resting pulse is at its usual, 58. SP02 is down, 97%.
We turned off the news so we don’t know what’s going on. There’s not been a stream of cars heralding vast evacuations, no warning sirens, etc., so we think the world has trudged on without us. We ate at a favorite place, The Green Salmon. Vegan food, amazingly delicious, wonderful coffee, and that ideal coffee shop café air, where it’s less like a business and more like a passion.
Today’s music offered by The Neurons in the morning mental music stream is “Just Like Paradise.” David Lee Roth. 1987. Get it? Sure, it was just like livin’ in paradise there, even with the rain, as we were as relaxed as a cat sleeping in sunshine. Sure, the hotel wasn’t perfect. Couldn’t connect to the net, and half of the 54 listed channels on TV were advertisements or tutorials for Dish TV. But we were there to hear the waves, smell the sea, and gaze out as far as our eyes could roam the ocean’s horizon. The coast by Yachats remains raw, which is preferable to being filled with tourist bait.
Aside, Roth isn’t a favorite for me. One of my little sisters really liked him when she was a teenager but he never was my style of rock and roll when he separated from van Halen.
I’ve had coffee. Stay pos and ride Friday like it’s a magical unicorn carrying you to wherever you wish. Here’s the music. Cheers
Monday has landed. You need to be careful when Monday lands that it doesn’t do serious damage to you. Some people really enjoy Mondays landing. They’re depressingly cheerful, shouting things like, “Woo hoo, it’s Monday,” causing the rest of us to raise our eyebrows so high that they get lost in our hair.
It’s August 27, 2022, which, for some, is the deadline. It’s also birthdays and anniversaries, so salutations to you if it is. Hope it’s memorable and the start of a long line of fantastic years.
I’m in Eugene, Oregon, now, a stop off on our way home. It’s 61 F here, 16 C on the coast, and 64 F in Ashland. Respective highs are 85, 68, and 88 F. Sunrise for this local was a classic, with sunshine piercing the eastern sky with a sharp golden lance at 6:323 this morning. Sunset will be at 8:07. I plan to be home then, where the sunset will be 8:01.
I have a 1957 song by Buddy Holley and the Crickets stuck in the morning mental music stream. My fault, totally my fault. After we checked into the room and settled for the evening, we cruised TV offerings where we found BBC America showing Stand By Me. The 1986 movie is about boys in a 1959 small town, their conflicts with themselves and others, and the quest to find a dead body. It features a terrific cast and music of the era. Well, The Neurons heard, ” Everyday, it’s a-gettin’ closer, goin’ faster than a roller coaster,” and they latched onto that like a cat taking over a chair.
Stay pos, test, neg, and so on. Yes, I’ve had coffee and breakfast. Coffee was very good. The breakfast went down well, breaking back tears of joy from being out in the field and enjoying some fine reconstituted eggs. Here’s the music. Cheers
Well, we come down the hill and turned into a glade, and there it was, majestic as ever: Sunday, August 21, 2022. So I, for one, can say, it does exist. I’ve seen it once and I’ll probably never see it again.
It’s a beautiful day on the beach. Though clouds blanket the sun, its presence is here. The ocean is a sleepy murmur. No fog or marine layer. 64 F. Today will be a little warmer, 70 F.
Sunrise trickle across the eastern skies at 6:26 AM and the sun’s luminescence will leave us with sunset at 8:12 PM.
A dream last night featured Tom Petty saying, “Let’s do the crocodile song, the rock song.” He said this three times, not in a row, but at three different times. I knew he referred to Elton John’s hit. Whenever he said that and his band played, I would go off and tell myself, “I need to be more like Tom Petty, and take more risks, put myself out there.” The dream also featured two-day POTUS Ronald Reagan and four-time NASCAR champ Jeff Gordon. It was an interesting dream.
But when thinking about the dream, “Crocodile Rock” and Tom Petty, The Neurons responded with Tom Petty and “Running Down A Dream”, a hit song from the 1989 album, Full Moon Fever. I was in Germany at Rhein Main Air Base when it was released, returning to America in 1991. The Neurons know I like this song. Who am I to argue with them? Yes, the song has been featured here before, but we’ll survive that.
Yes, I’ve had coffee, so I’m mellow, as are The Neurons. As I say, the ocean is a sweet companion today, in a mellow mood, and it’s infectious. Stay positive, test negative, and so on. Enjoy your Sunday, yeah?
Cheers
I kept encountering an error message. Sometimes it was written on a printout: [Error 1988: Michael does not exist]. I saw it in emails and text messages. Sometimes it was also spoken in the same voice my Roomba makes an announcement: “Error 1988: Michael does not exist.” As this happened, I was hurrying down hallways, looking over my shoulder, and pushing on doors, trying to find one that opens, hunting for an exit.
But, in one sense, it was understandable. On vacation, a person who needs isolation and solitude, who enjoys writing as their escape and therapy, who is forced to spend almost eighty percent of their time with other people, will end up dreaming about escape.
Right?
The question is, why those numbers?
We’ve come to Friday. Full stop. What else needs said? Everyone has a Friday sense, a feel for what Friday means for them. We do that with every day, though, depending on schedules and activities, wants and needs, desires and confusion, determination and goals.
Rain is falling on this Oregon coast August 19th. The sun’s reappearance was dampened by clouds but still took place at 6:23 this morning. Turning away from Sol — which often invokes Pink Floyd and someone singing, “On the turning away” — takes place at 8:19 this evening. By that time, we’ll expect to be at 67 F, a small jump from our current 16 C. They say it feels like 60. Whatever, it’s loaded with soft salty fishy oceany fragrances sprinkled with dirt, sand, and asphalt, along with plant smells. Know that melange? It’s a relaxing scent to inhale, one that unfolds the soul and pours out cares, at least for a little while. It also invokes memories for me, of where I’ve been, my present intersection of time, space, and being, and the final leg, who I am. Cue The Who, “Who Are You”.
Falling rain means Elvis Presley for The Neurons, today, though. They could have gone with Blind Melon and “No Rain”, I suppose, but no, they have “Kentucky Rain” (1970) circumambulating my morning mental music stream. Why? Silly one, The Neurons don’t explain their processes and decisions. Perhaps that’s only me. Your Neurons might be much nicer. Well, my neurons are nice, just as wild and free as a clowder of kitties chasing dandelion seeds on the wind.
Here’s the music. Stay positive and test negative. I must go on a coffee quest. (Yes, now The Neurons have folded “The Impossible Dream” into the morning mental music mix.)
Cheers
Lotsa wet out from ocean fog. Drips from everything and sprawls over cars and houses. Thursday morning on the coast. It’s started out much like Wednesday morning on the coast. I’m beginning to have suspicions about Friday morning on the coast, although rain is in the Friday forecast.
For now, it’s quiet and chill, 62 F, sunshine smothered in fog. The sun has been ‘up’ since 6:22 AM but it’s a dim bulb in the eastern fog swirl. A high of 68 F will be probed. We’ll going out on a short boat trip to explore the local marine life and history’s highlights. Should be fun. Sunset will be about 8:19 this evening.
Should note that it’s August 18, 2022, for the record. The record is important, isn’t it? ‘Tis why we’re always tracking and chasing these things. “For the record, what day was it?” “I believe it was August 18, 2022, yer honor.”
The line “walking in the sand” is walking through my morning mental music stream. Yes, thank you, neurons. Not very original of you but I have walked a few miles in the sand in the last few days. Nye Beach has a beautiful flat beach, not very busy on the sand, with gorgeous ocean views, well worth walking as the waves roll in do their splashing, and hurry back out as the gulls meditate and wonder.
Back to the music. I have the Shangri-Las version of “Remember (Walking in the Sand)” dueling the Aerosmith’s rendition, which is an interesting mental flavor to have before coffee. 1964 was the year of the Shangri-Las’s version while Tyler and the boys had a hit in 1979. One is pop and more melodic and the other is rock. I’ll let you guess which.
Here’s Amy Winehouse with the song. Yeah, I thought I’d throw a curve in. Stay positive and test negative, right? Deep breath because we’re still going through this. Meanwhile, I gotta find some coffee. Then I’m gonna go walkin’ in the sand. Hope I remember. Enjoy your day.
Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 