Tag: Valentine’s Day

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Cofoptimism (optimism fed by coffee)

Today is Wednesday, Feb. 14. 2024, my fellow travelers. Which means Valentine’s Day. You probably haven’t heard about this little-known holiday. Invented to sell more jewelry, candy, flowers, and cards while increasing liquor and restaurant business. According to a 2017 ABC News piece, Valentine’s Day spending in that year topped $136 per person on average.

Sadly for my partner, my romantic tendencies withered away long ago. She accepts that with acidic humor, but accepts. Although she doesn’t cop to remembering this, she told me in our first years of marriage not to buy her Valentine’s Day Gifts. I was hurt, and I remember. She bought a bag of Dove dark chocolate hearts and made little gift bags for her friends. They were passed out after exercise class this morning; she said she’s celebrating ‘Galentine’s Day’, because, “We gals don’t need men.” Her gay friends are included. She cracks me up. BTW, I did buy her a gift last year, some lovely little earrings which she likes. Or claims to. She does wear them. We did go out to dinner last night, too.

Rainy, cloudy, and chilly are today’s descriptors. Temperature is 44 F and it’s not going much higher. In the give and take between winter and spring, and their offspring, sprinter, winter has asserted its presence.

The rain is keeping the housepainters away. They are very close to having our house done. It’s a welcome break, because they’ve been by the house almost every day for almost two weeks. The cars also appreciate it, because they can relax and behave ‘normally’. Well, Papi can. Tucker has been reasonably unaffected by the painters. Just his nature. Meanwhile, we’ve been keeping them in at night because, cougar. Papi is generally displeased by this development but I assuage his mood by giving him a treat when he wants out. He eats that and goes off and sleeps. Knock on wood that this strategy continues working without him becoming a chunkofloof.

Lot of interesting and exciting political news today. Maybe it’s just my natural optimism rising or I’m being naive, but my confidence for a Biden re-election victory is rising. Fingers crossed, etc.

The Neurons didn’t have anything loaded into the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). I don’t know what’s wrong with them. On vacation? Sleeping in? Hungove? I don’t know. After some thinking as I fed the cats and myself, I thought I’d share Madonna’s 1990 song (written by Lenny Kravitz), “Justify My Love”. Returning from a four-year tour of Germany with the military, I saw the video for it when I was in a hotel at my new base the following February (1991) and thought, holy cow, or something like that.

But then I came across this thing on Facebook, so I’m instead sharing Taylor Swift and Phoebe Buffay (Lisa Kudrow) performing “Smelly Cat”. This song was featured on a television sitcom called “Friends”. “Smelly Cat” was introduced to the show in 1995, and was regularly performed several years after that. It’s a humours little piece.

Stay positive, remain strong, lean forward, and vote when the opportunity arises. I will do the same. Now, back to drinking coffee for me. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Happy Valentine Day — or is it Valentine’s Day — or Valentines Day — to you if you’re into that. I’m not. I’ve always considered it the most manufactured of manufactured holidays. My wife, K, was the same when we were younger. She has changed; I haven’t. But then, as she told me when we first dated, “You’re not very romantic, are you?” No, I’m not. I tried being more romantic, but she mocked every effort to be more romantic. So here I am. There’s nature vs. nurture for you.

It’s Tuesday, February 14, 2023. An inch of snow has fallen as part of the great weather warning. They told us we were likely to see six to seven inches in our Ashlandia. People raced around town to buy food and get errands completed before the great storm was upon us. They warned us about it for days. Well, we prepared. But I’d rather be warned and prepared than to not be warned at all.

Sunrise came at 7:09 this morning, not much presence against the dirty white tee shirt that is our morning sky. Temperature is 0 C. Expect a high of 40 F, the weather experts advise, before sunset at 5:42 PM Ashlandia stardard time.

Been addressing Tucker’s health. The big black and white feline suddenly was hobbling and could not jump. He’s aging so I thought, arthritis. Bought some arthritis treats for him. He enjoyed them but he’s always had gum problems and has lost many teeth. They were too much for him. So I crumble a treat each day and put it in about an ounce of hot water, then give him to him with a dropper. It’s made such a difference in his motility, it’s wonderful to witness. The treat is “Pet Naturals Hip and Joint Support Supplement for Cats”. I learned about it from another pet owner a few years ago, and I recommend it.

Have a Fleetwood Mac song called “Never Going Back Again” from 1977 dialed up by The Neutrons. Started from a dream today, but was reinforced by memory. The song came out when I was 21. I was in the military, married, contemplating choices. This song cemented some decisions for me, like, “I’m done with that. Never going back again.”

Stay pos and enjoy your Tuesday, shaping it best that you can. Once I’ve fortified myself with hot black coffee, I’ll try to do the same. Cheers, my friends.

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The Skunk Report

It was Valentine’s Day, ten PM. The blinds were down. Thumping came from beside the house. Squeaking ensued. Definitely an animal noise. I turned. Outside lights detected motion and lit the area.

I pulled the blinds up. The squeaking came from a skunk, our skunk, as we call her. Haven’t formally named her yet but we know her by her tail, which looks like a well-used white toilet brush.

Furious squeaking kept going. She was jumping and darting briskly around. I zipped into the other room to bring my wife to the spectacle. Not much was on television and I’d just finished reading my book.

“What’s she doing?” my wife asked.

“I think she’s fighting with something.”

“I think she has a mouse.”

The skunk jumped back, leaped to one side, and twirled. “I don’t see a mouse. I think she’s fighting with something else.”

Our skunk turned and rushed away. There was no mouse. As we stood to consider what we’ve seen, another skunk darted out from under the house. Bigger than our skunk, I’d seen ‘him’ before. “Look.” I pointed him out. “I think she was fighting him. They sometimes fight.”

My wife was nodding. “Yes. I read that females will reject males and sometimes spray them in a defensive action.”

“So he came a-callin’…”

“And she said, no thank you.” The skunk disappeared. The lights went off. My wife turned away. “I think she doesn’t want him because she’s in love with Boo.” Boo is our big black cat with a single white star on his chest.

I remained doubtful. I began lowering the blind. The light appeared. ‘He’ appeared. He looked up at me.

I nodded down at him. “Tough luck, brother. Can you go somewhere else?”

He scurried off into the night. The light went off. I finished lowering the blind on the theater and began wondering what I was going to watch on the telly.

Live theater is so much better.

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Guns & Love

It’s a way of looking at love and how love is expressed that I never considered.

The radio commercial featured a woman, talking to men. “Hey guys, I know you forgot to buy a Valentine’s Day gift again.”

Pause to consider the stereotype presented.

“But don’t worry. February is the month of love. So all month, you can come to the gun store and buy a gift for the loved one in your life.”

Now my stereotype is showing. When I think of Valentine’s Day gifts, guns don’t leap to mind. Candy, especially chocolates, a night out, jewelry, diamonds, flowers, lingerie…these are the stereotypes of the V.D. (sorry) gifts that come to my mind.

I suppose it’s valid for some cultures to say I love you with a gun. I imagine, outside of my sphere, there’s a whole world of gun-giving as gifts for special occasions. Keeping with paper, first year wedding anniversaries are probably celebrated with gun-range targets. In the fifth year, a nice, compact .22 pistol is given. For the ten year anniversary, give her a 30/30 hunting rifle.

The restaurant moments write themselves. He’s down on one knee, handing her a Sig. Her eyes shine with tears as she gasps and whispers, “It’s beautiful.” Around her, other patrons are gushing with appreciation. Applause breaks out as she accepts the gun and hugs her man. One woman hisses at her husband, “Why don’t you ever buy me a gun?”

I wonder if Hallmark has a range of gun cards for holidays?

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