Tag: weather

Munday’s Theme Music

Mood: Mundacity

Yeah, it’s Munday, December 2, 2024. Just a couple notes on it. Temp is rising and falling between 26 and 28 F. Sun is kicking in. First strokes can be witnessed in the dining room’s southern window, which catches the sun’s approach from the southeast as it jabs through and around trees branches. Fog is doing a swirling veil dance. Alexa said it’ll be 56 F today. Same claim made yesterday and we barely topped 43, so I know where I’m putting my money.

Many people don’t realize the Monday as a day of the week comes from Middle English mondeyne which itself is derived from Late Latin, mundanus. It all means ‘common place’ as in ‘nothing special’. Boring. Routine. Mundane. Monday. Munday.

Trump continues with his authoritarian cabinet o’ clowns. Mockpaperscissors shares a scope outta the New Yorker about the dishonorable Pete Hegseth. True grrrspiring stuff about his drunken leadership and how he sexualizes women. Nice note about his drunken chants, “Kill all Muslims!” Bet those Muslims who clamored for Trump over Harris are creaming their pants with pleasure over that. Who coulda known that Trump woulda picked such a piece of meat for a high-rankin’ gubment position. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink.

My wife asked me last night how old I thought Papi was. We reminisced about his interactions with us. He first showed up on a fence back when Scheckter, one of the original Orange Boiz, was still alive. Papi, then called Meep for his tiny meow (yeah, he’s grown outta that), showed up on the backyard fence like a little Scheckter mini me.

Scheckter

Meep aka Papi

Records show Meep has lived with us since May of 2017. While Schecter was warm and sweet, Meep, I mean Papi, remains guarded and wary. When I informed my wife of my research, she remarked the same about the two floofs. Scheckter was a cuddler and lap dweller; Papi has been on my lap once for three pico seconds.

Dreams inspired The Neurons’ music choice today. I was reflecting about a dream of a levitating train I was driving through an apocalyptic ‘Merica. Thinking about the dream highights, I noted that it was a simple life of travel in the flying train with a small group of people. The Neurons shook my head. Out came No Doubt with “Simple Kind of Life”. “And all I wanted was a simple thing, a simple kind of life” keeps circulating the morning mental music stream (Trademark freeze-dried).

Sunshine owns all the living and dining rooms’ windows now. Blue sky speckled with withdrawn clouds rule the view. It’s 30 F. Coffee and I have found common ground again. Look up and open your eyes. Take a deep breath. Inhale; exhale. Here we go, December’s first Munday. Hope it’s a wonderful one for you. Cheers

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Sunday’s Wandering Thoughts

Alexa, we have a problem.

Alexa is Amazon’s ‘virtual assistance’. It’s useful to me for telling me the weather and the news if I ask it. But its recent behavior has undercut my trust in it. Observe.

Night had come on shift. My home weather system said that it was 30 degrees F outside. The sudden downturn surprised me. I wondered if it was right and how cold it would get as it was still early in the evening. So I asked Alexa for the weather.

“It’s 35 degrees in Ashland. Tonight’s low will be 35 degrees.”

Okay, that seemed cool. (No pun intended, because it was cold, no cool. Obs.) I’m on Ashlandia’s southern end, at a slightly higher elevation. Our mountain’s shadows climb over us early and get off us later, as we’re in the valley’s pinched, closing end. I’m not sure where the station is where Alexa gets its weather but it seems to be down where the sun keeps it warm longer. NBD.

A little later, I noticed my system said it was 28 F. I didn’t expect it to keep getting colder after Alexa told me the low would be 35. To Alexa I went. “Alexa, what’s the temperature?”

“It’s 30 degrees in Ashland. Tonight’s low will be 30 degrees.”

Well, wait a minute. That’s not what the system said before.

An hour later, my system said it was 25 degrees. Rinse and repeat with Alexa: “It’s 26 degrees in Ashland. Tonight’s low will be 24.”

What the serious actual fuck? What good is a system that calls out predictions and then indifferenctly changes them? I thought the idea behind her telling me what the high or low will be is to help me plan.

Of course, I asked Alexa about it. It played dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I also asked it where its weather station was. “Hmm,” it said. “I don’t understand your question.”

I repeated it in multiple variations. “Hmm,” Alexa said. “Let me get back to you.”

I’m still waiting.

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: sunpleastic

December 1! Here at last. Turn the page and count down the days until your holiday of choice and the end of this year as the majority reckon it here in ‘Merica.

That cold front from out of the Arctic is still dominating. Sunday, it’s 32 F out there. Cold air throws our valley. See, that doesn’t work there, does it? Although through is a synonym for blanket, it only works in that capacity as a noun, not a verb. No wonder we’re so often confused.

While it’s 32 F now, that’s up froom the 18 that greeted me at dawn’s start a few hours back. 56 is the whispered high. We’ll see. Yesterday’s projected high was never approached. I think we topped out at 40 F. We have a stagnant air alert going on, and that always affects the temperature’s dance moves.

From a dream comes today’s theme music, “Beat It”. The 1983 Michael Jackson hit is in my morning mental music stream (Trademark icy) after a dream began playing it when the dream faded out. No credits were rolled for the dream, though. I have no idea who produced or directed it. I did star in it but I don’t know the other stars. They weren’t recognized. That’s not to say that they’re not stars in their own rights; I only have access to my dreams. They may have starred in other dreams which were only released to the individual having them.

“Beat It” came out when I was living on Okinawa, an island that’s part of Japan, and site of a major Pacific battle in dubya dubya two. I was there for almost four years as part of my military service. My neighbor, Carol, was so excited about this song and its video. In retrospect, she was a Michael Jackson fan girl. I was okay with the song. Has some interesting vocal and musical elements and tones. I don’t know why it was chosen for the dream’s closing sequence. It didn’t seem at all related to the dream’s context and action. I queried The Neurons about it but they’re as transparent as brick.

Hope your Sunday is a good one and a fine start to December. Coffee and I have renewed our vows and I’m sipping in bliss. Here’s the music. This video shows Slash from GNR standing in to interpret Van Halen’s original solo guitar. Hope you enjoy it. Cheers

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Sa’day’s Theme Music

Mood: Politicynicsm

It’s an autner morning with winter impression holding a slight edge. A freezing cold night was had with temperatures lowering to 18 F around my place. I know that’s not so cold in many places; I’ve lived in a few of them. But that’s chill for us.

Since dawn, the sun put the hammer to the temps. We’re into the low thirties now. The splash dab white crystals decorating the greenery is giving way as the sun’s fingers stroke the land into warmth. A high of 56 F is contemplated, with clouds, blue skies, and sunshine.

This is Sa’day, November 30, 2024, the last day of the year’s eleventh month. Just one more for the historic records and we’ll put 2024 to bed.

Keeping Papi the ginger blade in and safe from icy temperatures was a big challenge for us. He gave me his patented cheetah stare whenever I told him no.

Note: this is not Papi. Papi looks nothing like this, except for that staring, judging expression.

But we were successful without too much floofma. Now he is up and up, patrolling and sniffing to see who floofpassed on his realm while he was suffering the indignation of being kept warm and safe.

Been thinking about the Trump presidency and how it’s going down. He and his teams have not signed the transition docs. Therefore, no transition can begin. But, he’ll be sworn in on 1/20/25, won’t he? And then he’ll be POTUS. And then he’ll say, “Fuck those documents. I don’t need to sign shit. I’m the president.” SCOTUS has already established that these things he does as POTUS aren’t illegal, so… I’m sure the Senate will go into a legislative tantrum but the reality is, what will they do? Are the oaths really needed? Not in Trump’s newly minted prezzy immunity. Prezmunity.

Yes, feeling cynical this morning. But that’s the battle and potential outcome I see brewing. Of course, I’m crap at these predictions so I wouldn’t put any money on it.

Hmm…is Vegas laying odds on it? That would seem appropriate. Electing a proven con, liar, incompetent wanna-be dictator and fascist is a gamble…

Oh, wait. I see that he has signed some of the docs now. Sorry, been avoiding the news cycle. That’ll teach me.

So last night, I bit into a Kind drizzle bar. Off came part of one molar. Had to laugh. Just fits in so well with this year’s progression of events. My wife has been claiming that I’m held together by bubblegum and tape. Looks like it’s all coming apart.

I originally had songs about ice or white in the morning mental music stream (Trademark frozen). Ya know, things like “Cold as Ice” and “Ice Ice Baby”. “White Wedding” and “Nights in White Satin”. “Whiter Shade of Pale”. But The Neurons used their veto-override and inserted “Take My Breath Away”. The song was a creation for the Top Gun movie a zillion and two years ago. Berlin, an American new wave musical group, performed it for the movie and achieved a respectable hit for it.

I asked The Neurons, why this? They smugly deigned to voice an answer. But it’s in the stream, so I’m forced to share it to get it out. Kind of a tedious song to me. I mean, I admire the singer’s talents and the band’s skills, and respect the songwriters. Just not my cuppa. I’m low on the romance scale, though, so don’t judge it by my impressions. Listen for yourself.

Try to be positive. I grok that’s an easy expression to state but hard to manifest at times. Do your best, right? I will, too. Aided by coffee, the positivity function is stirring anew. Here we go, another day in 2024. Here’s the music from 1986 to take you there. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Daytemplative

It’s the day after Thanksgiving and all through the house, everyone is full, as full as a louse.

Yes, it’s November 29, 2024, Friday, and 2024’s penultimate month’s penultimate day. Sunshine filled the valley after dawn’s arrival. Fog has slouched in and the sunshine has fizzled. We’re sitting at 28 F. But there’s potential; fog is expected to thin and drop, and the temperature hopes to top 48.

Friendsgiving was a grand time. Excellent food, delicious desserts, and satisfying drinks. Herb always makes a mulled cider. Add in some rum, and it’s a warming drink that’ll loosen tongues and relax souls. My hoof held up well. First time out for in public with shoes on both feet since October. My friends persisted on gaining details about what’d happened to me and how I was doing, and I indulged them. The tale of the foot was shared four times. We groused and commiserated over the election results. Almost everyone I spoke with said they withdrew from news for several days. Other than that, we talked local politics, books, and entertainment. Time whizzed by on greased tracks.

I have “Day After Day” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark full). Although the 1971 Badfinger song is a ballad, I was musing about going about life day after day, and healing and improving day after day when The Neurons slipped the song into the MMMS. A Beatle named George Harrison helped produce the song and offers his guitarship on it, and I think that combo solidifies the Beatle inflections. Nonetheless, it was a slow-dance favorite during my late teen years. I even have convinced myself that this was the song playing when I danced with Barb H in tenth grade. This video doesn’t do full justice to the song, as it doesn’t show Harrison on slide guitare nor Leon Russell on piano.

Coffee and I have again embraced once again. Time to ride the wave of another day. Hope it’s a better one for you. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Thanksgiving’s Theme Music

Mood: Thanksthinking

Football and parades are on television. Dawn cracked open a blue sky this morning. Sunshine spilled out across 28 degrees F. It’s 43 and feels like 53, with a high of 48 projected. It gets windy, driving Papi to floofishly beat on the front door window for immediate entrance. His tail highpoints in salute as I let him in. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) gives the ginger blade an askance look of pity as Papi passes him.

Thanksgiving memories erupt. Going to my paternal grandparents on cold and gray Pittsburgh days. Greeting cousins, aunts, and uncles seen only four times a year. Sitting at one of several children tables. Warm house, laughter, cigarette smoke, beer, and whiskey sodas. The children are herded into the cellar to contain noise. The problem: there’s nothing to do in that cellar except mill around. One by one, we quietly sneak back upstairs.

Mom and Dad separate and divorce. Mom remarries and becomes host and cook, but man, she can cook. Thanksgiving meals are always delicious feasts around traditional offerings. We play card games after the meal and gorge on leftovers for days.

Basic training saw me in San Antonio. Luckily, I had Uncle Paul and his family there to host me for Thanksgiving. Danny White led the Dallas Cowboys to victory. Later, I’m stationed in the San Antonio area. Uncle Paul’s family still lives there and my wife and I visit them for Thanksgiving.

A Thanksgiving follows in the Philippines, where my crew invites me into their house for an American-Filipino Thanksgiving. We play a new electronic game called Pong on television.

Our tour in Okinawa is broken into two phases: pre- and post-base housing. In the pre-phase, food prep is shared between several houses. We barely fit into one of the small apartments to eat. Once we’re in base housing, we’re in a large, comfortable space where my wife plays cook and hostess in Germany. As we return to America, Thanksgiving gets more complicated. We’re alone sometimes, or I’m on shift working. Later as I become more senior in rank, we become host for young co-workers and friends. We do the same after being assigned to California.

Out of the military and tired of hosting, we go out for dinner on Thanksgiving for a year or two in Sunnyvale, Mountain View, and Palo Alto, California. My wife has become a vegetarian. An awful attempt with tofurkey is made. Stuffed acorn squash. We end up buying turkey breasts and having much smaller meals. Thanksgiving transitions to Friendsgiving. Friends host others like us and we collect at their homes. The meals feel like the ones I enjoyed as a child. I’ve gone full circle.

I’m going with “Alice’s Restaurant” by Arlo Guthrie for today’s theme music. It’s a staple of my existence, and The Neurons are okay with it. Alice Brock, the Alice in the song, passed away earlier this month. RIP. It plays in the background of my morning mental music stream (Trademark roasted) as I go about preparing to go to Friendsgiving at our friends’ farm. We prepared our food contributions yesterday. Corn souffle, prepared with my wife carefully watching me, is my contribution.

Coffee and I continue renewing our daily relationship. The house weather system says its 50 F out. Plentiful sunshine baths the street. Hope you have a memorable Thanksgiving if you’re participating, and a great day no matter where you are.

Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Foggedinmemories

We climbed into a Wednesday November 27, 2024. Day before Thanksgiving in the United States. I know a large of people who will be muttering, I don’t have anything to be thankful about.

It’s foggy and cold, 30 F, in Ashlandia, white with frost and ice, but it will get warmer, with the temperature rising to about 48 F. Blue sky can be spied through the thinning fog. I enjoyed cold, foggy days as a child. Encountering days like this in Penn Hills, PA, I’d step outside and let that cold whip my face. I found it exhilerating. And the fog made the world narrow, small, mysterious. It was also usually quieter. People didn’t go out into it. I soon knew my friends wouldn’t go out into it. Some just didn’t want to, complaining that it was cold and foggy. Others said their mom wouldn’t let them. I’d tramp on my own, verifying that the world still was beyond the fog’s envelope, feeling like an explorer. Being careful about your steps were important. Yards dropped off into steep hills and cement culverts lay in wait. I’d sometimes get lost in that fog, and when it burned off, I’d find myself surprised at where I was. I always thought it was fun. Guess that’s why I was considered a little strange, LOL.

Daily Kos delivered some news to my inbox. “If a Woman Dies from Pregnancy and Texas Refuses to Investigate, Did She Really Die?”

The Texas committee that examines all pregnancy-related deaths in the state will not review cases from 2022 and 2023, the first two years after Texas’s near-total abortion ban took effect, leaving any potential deaths related to abortion bans during those years uninvestigated by the 23 doctors, medical professionals and other specialists who make up the group.

Texas, led by Republicans, doesn’t want to know why women are dying in pregnancy-related deaths. I think they know they will find that their draconian fucking laws are killing women. Then they would need to spin that in a way that makes sense, and they know they can’t. Worse, it would provide facts about how poorly the GOP goes about ‘protecting women’. I’m sure if you read this, you recall that Trump declared as a candidate that he would protect women if elected POTUS. Now firm evidence is emerging that the climate, culture, and policies that he promoted is doing just the fucking opposite. Rather than trying to address the evidence, Republicans are doing what they do best: ignoring facts and creating a fake reality by pretending that all is well. “We just won’t investigate those deaths,” they nod and tell each other. “Then they’ll go away.” Dipshits.

Looking out at the fog this morning, The Neurons kept trying to recall a song about fog and confusion. For a while, “Ball of Confusion (That’s What the World Is Today)” by the Temptations in the morning mental music stream (Trademark hazy). Then, Foghat crowded in, because it has fog in its name. But I wanted to remember that song. Not much of it would come back. I was finally forced to turn to the Internet to restore the details. With about four minutes of searching, the Meat Puppets and their song, “Confusion Fog”, was finally restored to my operating system. A co-worker at PAS in Palo Alto, California, where I worked in the mid to late 1990s, turned me on to them. It’s a unique sound the Meat Puppets provide, more like country from the early 1970s than punk to me, but I like the vocals.

Coffee and I have reached detente. The fog has burned away. Sunshine and blue sky rule the day. Hope you find a better way, to make this one to remember. With fondness, here’s the music. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Smoothsailin

Tuesday, November 26, 2024. Few days until Thanksgiving in America, or as as my wife and I celebrate it, Friendsgiving. We head out to a friend’s farm house a few miles down the road and meet up with others. Everyone brings a dish or two. Good food, good drink, and good times are all enjoyed.

We’re chilling at 39 F under a tumultuous sky. The elements up there are in discord. Looks like it might rain, snow, or get blue sky and sunny on us. Gonna get up to a steamy hot 41 F.

Watched some national weather on TV this morning. I lived in Pennsylvania, Ohio, West Virginia, and South Carolina for a while at different times as an adult. My wife and I typically jumped in the car and drove ‘home’ to our parents’ places for the holidays, if I had the time off. We’re talking the 1970s through the late 1980s. Back then, it was basically pack the car up, tank up, and take off. Sometimes we’d hit blizzards, a few times we encountered torrential rains, and once in a while, we encountered construction. We always enjoyed the trips. In the early years, we had an AM car radio and that was it. Losing stations, we’d just turn it off and talk. We still do the same on our road trips through Oregon. Now, though, we’re rich with music and entertainment options. We still often talk. Old habits.

My wife baked brownies for our dessert last night. Filled the house with a wonderful chocolate smell. We both said several times, “The house smells so good.” LOL. Love the smell of baked goods. Bread, pies, cookies, pizzas…

The records show that we let Papi the ginger blade in and out nine times yesterday. That seems light. We suspect he overheard our plan and cut back on his requests to game the numbers. I’ve started calling him my little In ‘n Out burger.

Did something to my surgerically repaired hoof in my sleep. Awoke to the realization that I was loudly groaning. Foot hurt like hell. Could barely walk on it. No idea what took place but it may have been caused by a swimming dream. The sound I made deeply concerned Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah), my black and white big cat. (He’s not actually that large but looks big, a deception brought on by a big head, paws, and tail.) I found him intensely studying me with his ears back when I awoke. The pain has mostly abated. All part of the recovery process.

With thoughts about road trips and driving, it’s with little surprise that The Neurons brought travel music into the morning mental music stream (Trademark skipping). Red Hot Chili Peppers released Californication in 2000. The song, “Road Trippin'” was included. RHCP’s album on CD was part of my rotation during part of that period. We lived in California then and were exploring the state. It’s a big state, and we had many excellent road trips, visiting cities and landmarks, taking visitors around, etc.

Had a good bitter laugh over Trump’s tariff plans. China, Mexico, Canada. That’ll hit home construction, food prices (and restaurants!), automobile manufacturing, and computers, phones, and electronics. Talk about inflation. But Trump and his cronies and supporters believe that the other countries and the manufacturing/production sources will bear the burden. Trump et al say they’re doing this to stop drug trafficking. Yeah.

Here’s the music. Excuse me while I dash off for a brownie. A few remain. They pair well with coffee. And away we go.

Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sunflective

Clouds in spiffy white parade past the window, bold against the blue. The sun throws a spotlight on them. Oh, sunshine, so good to have you back again.

It’s 46 F now, just a little short of the high projected for us. Clouds will dominate and rain might come. Could be worse. I was going through photos last night on my ‘puter. Looking for shots of friends. What I came across slowed my search with memories. Included was a photo of the snowy scene outside nine years ago, looking across the street.

Talking to my cats today, I noticed the differences in their style. Both speak a meow dialect of flooflish but their enunciation is different, as are many of their words. How they ask for food is worlds apart but I understand both. They, as teachers, know that repetition is important. They’ve repeated their requests for food over the years, drilling it into my head.

Nauseated by politics and justice in the United States, I took my head out of America’s ass for a bit to see how the rest of the world was faring. Nothing seemed real promising. Fires and volcanos, disasters, refugees, wars, and politics. With a sigh, I ducked back into my cozy silo. The Neurons drummed up a David Bowie song, “Heroes.” It played in my morning mental music stream (Trademark iffy) as I ate and invited coffee to engage my taste buds. I found a live version done at a slower beat that begins almost conversationally. My wife doesn’t like the song; says it’s too ‘strident’. Other friends didn’t like it because they thought it too commercial. But I like heroes, defiance, and declarations of intentions, so the song sits well with me. I do miss David B. Wish he was still around.

Let’s get a bead on the day and push ourselves. Hope you make it the best one you can. Here’s the music. And away we go. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Suntimistic

Sun is shining. Gives promise to this Sunday, November 24, 2024. Wind is calmish, erratically kicking up like a new foal. A few clouds mill, strutting grays and whites. With a 44 degree F temperture and a high of 48 F, you’re not going to mistake this for anything but late autumn in Oregon.

Pleased with that sunshine after murky days of rain and mist. Such a wonderful and natural way to lift spirits. I went out into the chilly morning air and raised my face to the sun, sucking it up.

I think we’re going to chart how often we let Papi the ginger blade in and out of the house. Sometimes he comes in the front door and runs right to the back door, like he’s using the house as a shortcut. It feels like twenty times a day to me. That’s almost one time an hour, 24 hours. I need to chart it.

Saw a headline that caused difficulty keeping my breakfast down. “Most Americans Approve Of Trump Transition—As Controversial RFK Jr. Gets High Marks, Poll Finds “Most Americans”. Yeah, and most Americans think that tariffs and mass deportations will lower inflation. Shouldn’t be surprised that ‘most Americans approve’. Actually, I don’t think I’m surprised but disappointed.

“The majority of respondents approve of both Trump’s plans for mass deportations (57%) and his plan to impose broad tariffs on U.S. imports (52%), the poll found. Most Trump voters also don’t believe the tariffs will make prices higher—contradicting predictions from most experts—and the third that do think tariffs will lead to higher prices support them anyway.“

And while 59% approve of Trump’s transition plans, of the five nominees listed, RFK had the most positive rating, 47%.

So there we go. We must find a way to Make Americans Think Harder. Maybe bitter experience will open their eyes and impact their thinking. From what I’ve seen, it won’t. After all, look at how much of history, basic government and civics, and economics they keep forgetting.

Final note: I wonder if they included a question in that poll about Trump not yet signing the necessary transition documents? Hmm? Would that change the favorable poll results? Do they know that he won’t sign those MOUs and the ethics document?

To be fair, research has emerged that COVID-19 affects the brain, including a negative impact on IQ. Maybe that explains why Americans don’t seem to think much these days.

My foot continues healing. Edema causes issues. More exercise is needed to combat the edema. But the healing ankle surgery compromises the ability to exercise. Classic Catch 22.

Today’s song is sun focused. The Neurons saw that and started throwing sun and sunshine themed songs into the morning mental music stream (Trademark limping). Eventually, the mingling lyrics and rhythms cleared. Bob Marley and the Wailers arose with “Sun is Shining”. I like the song’s relaxed, easy style.

Gotta say, the green chili stew we made yesterday was a perfect antidote to the chilly wet day yesterday. Added roasted chicken to mine. Yeah, frozen and pre-cooked, low sodium. Yes, I’m a cheater. It’s available for lunch today. Really spicy; my wife said it was too spicy for her. We topped it with avocado and garnishd it with cilantro.

Coffee has been introduced to my internal environment. Gonna go make green smoothies. Think they’ll have a tropical taste. Mango and pineapple. Have the best Sunday you can. Here’s the music. Cheers

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