Tag: weather

Saturday’s Theme Music*

*Began publishing this as Sunday’s theme music. Because I thought it was Sunday. My internal calendar is untethered with my routines disrupted. My apologies.

Mood: Springflective

Spring has taken over Ashlandia on this day in June’s middle. A flotilla of menacing clouds have surmounted the mountains surrounding the valley, blocking the sun’s effects, and holding our temperature hostage in the low fifties. Saturday, June 15, 2024, will likely only face high temperatures in the upper sixties today, ending our unusually warm streak — for this time of year, of course.

Fire season has begun and there are already several on the maps to be watched to see how they grow, what direction they take, how long until they’re under control, and what happens with the smoke.

Dad went into the hospital yesterday. He’s in his early nineties so a visit there once in a while isn’t a great surprise. I mean, he grew up during the cigarette’s heyday and was a smoker, first of Lucky Strikes, and then shifting to pipes and cigars. He quit smoking thirty to forty years ago but the damage was done. He also spent 20 years in the military and was exposed to carcinogenic stuff during his tours, and survived a tour of Vietnam, too.

His current issues began with an enlarged prostrate which blocked his bladder. One kidney has apparently failed, quite some time ago, according to his wife, though Dad never mentioned this. Nor has he ever mentioned that they wanted to start him on dialysis. But the issue du jour is fluid around his heart. He’s been stented before and has had edema issues but this is a new one. So they’re going to drain away that fluid. The stay is basically observation, they said *cough cough*.

Dad, though, was recalcitrant to go into the hospital. His wife said that after the doctor saw Dad’s test results, Doc called Dad and asked him to go to ER, which Dad did. But when they wanted to admit him for obs, he refused to give his permission. Went on for hours. Dad demanded a second opinion. So a second team came in and evaluated him, and agreed, he should be admitted to the hospital. Dad finally gave his permission at 12:30 AM Friday morning after arriving Thursday afternoon. His wife said she left the hospital bone tired but encountered a huge thunderstorm. Not wanting to drive the highways and Interstates of San Antonio, Texas, in the rain, she found a chair and spent the night sleeping in it.

Gotta call them to get the lowdown on here and now.

If you ever read my blog, you can imagine how The Neurons reacted to news about Dad and his health. All manner of songs, poetry, and essays skated through the mental scene while I reflected about who I think Dad is and how he influenced me. As I’m still trying to figure him at with me at 68 years old, I ended up with “Alive” by Pearl Jam from 1991 in my morning mental music stream (Trademark grandfathered). Of course, figuring out Dad is a moving target. I’m changing in slow ways most days, and so is he. We don’t see one another often — he lives in Texas and I live in Oregon — and we don’t talk often. We try, and we mean to, but we’re the same in that way, sort of strange loners who socialize well but aren’t terribly sentimental. We can hazard the company of others but we’re very satisfied being on our own.

Stay strong, be well, keep positive. Endure, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Got my coffee so we can rock on. Here’s the tune. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Coffpestuous

Overnight temps dipped us into the forties, so cool air, warm sunshine, and a dusty blue sky opened Friday, June 14, 2024. Happy Flag Day for the U.S. attendees today.

A pattern of frothy flat clouds dot Ashlandia’s blueways. Expect it to be like that all day as sprummer dips back toward springmer. 62 F now in the late morning, today’s high will stall at ’round 74 F. The surrounding hills are whole green shows. Cherries are ripening on the trees, and the peaches are swelling ever larger as they slowly shed their green tinge.

I hear on the news that heatwaves are striking other parts of the nation and that Florida has taken on flooding. Hope all is well with my fellow Americans in those zones and they survive and recover.

Last night, ’bout 12:30, I opened the front door to collect the cats. There, an on the grass at the end of the front porch, was a large, resting doe. Cats weren’t there, so I closed the door and let the doe be. She was gone his morning.

My injured foot swelled up in a big way yesterday, hindering movement and plans, and rendering my toes into small, fat, sausages. Spent the day RICE-ing away. After returning from the show, I elevated my foot and watched the swelling completely dissipate. Little swelling today that I see but I still try not to use it. When I do, it’s with ginger attention.

We attended the OSF Green Show last night with a group of friends and enjoyed The Rogue Suspects doing an Aretha Franklin tribute. Fanastic. Those women can belt it out, and the rest of the band are right up there, note for note and on time. It was a large crowd on blankets and chairs as the temperature dipped below 80 F and the sun slipped through the blue sky to coyly hide behind the mountains. There was a contingent of fans down there on the bricks beside the stage, singing and dancing in ages from two to 80 or 90. Lot of energy on display on stage and in the audience as the Suspects ripped though “I Say A Little Prayer”, “Chain of Fools”, “Pink Cadillac”, “Jumping Jack Flash” and others. Good times, brothers and sisters, good times.

Naturally, I thought one song would hook The Neurons. It did. The blighters brought the duet, “Knew You Were Waiting” with Aretha Franklin and George Michael. The Suspects did cover the song last night as well.

Time to fly. Be strong and stay positive and Vote Blue in 2024. I’ll do the same. Coffee has been consumed. Here’s the music video. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: Slowed

Thursday, June 13, 2024, begins with a front’s impact. Chilliness rules the night and fends off the morning sun’s advances, rising through the fifties into the sixties, holding off on the seventies until afternoon. It sounds like I’m talking about decades or periods, but I’m referencing the temperatures in Fahrenheit. Right now, we’ve settled on a comfy 80 F.

While I’m still RICE-ing my right ankle, we plan to see the Green Show on the Oregon Shakespeare Festival bricks tonight. The performing band, Rogue Suspects, is one of our favorite. Through regular attendance of their shows, we’ve become friends with several of them. Can’t wait to enjoy their music tonight. They cover a wide range of rock, blues, pop. Sometimes they’re focus on a specific performer, like Aretha Franklin or The Eagles. Don’t know what we’ll get tonight, but they always give us a solid performance.

The Rogue Suspects 2023

Some good news from the Supremes about the abortion pill, mifepristone, was read this morning. Naturally I thought, man, ain’t that good news. That thought triggered The Neurons into starting the Sam Cooke song, “Ain’t That Good New” from 1964, in the morning mental music stream (Trademark still legal). Had to pause a mo’ to reflect that this recorded performance was sixty years ago.

Be positive and strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s Sam Cooke. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: ouchy

Sprummer continues its Ashlandia rule, with signs of summer leaking in. Already 72 F and intensely sunny, clouds have shifted in, and our high will crest at 87 F. Meanwhile, cooler temps are petering in, according to forecasts, with highs dropping into the upper seventies.

I injured my right ankle again last night. Just stepped up onto the door’s threshold and that thing went snap crack and I was down and in pain. A night of RICE helped and I can hobble today but I need to follow up with ortho and pursue the answer to the question, what the heck?

The cats’ responses to my injury and condition was amusing and interesting. When I sang my song of pain and flopped down, Papi reacted, “Run away!” Tucker came over and rubbed his head against mine and purred.

Later, when my wife had set me up with my RICE package, Papi wanted out. Now, he normally pays little attention to my wife. This time, he came in, walked past me, and appealed to her to let him out.

Meanwhile, Tucker was yelling for food in the night’s depths. This was despite his bowl full of kibble. I shouted back that I was in pain and couldn’t help him so please have some empathy and shut the fuck up. Well, he was immediately quiet, and then came to me on the bed, settled himself against me and purred.

I owe Marjorie Taylor Greene for today’s music in the morning mental music stream (Trademark drifing). In an interview with convicted liar Paul Bannon (cough, cough) about Greene’s stand on defunding NATO, MTG accused Rachel Maddow of being the fringe. She of the wildfire-causing space lasers said, “It’s not fringe at all. It’s also not fringe because most Americans also agree that the United States should not be funding a war in Ukraine.”

“So when we’re going to talk about the question, we’re going to ask the question, who is fringe?” she added. “It’s actually Rachel Maddow is the fringe person in this story. It’s not me. It’s Rachel Maddow.”

Guess that makes me fringe, as I support NATO. See, I remember why NATO was created in WWII’s aftermath. And I support Ukraine in the face of Russia’s wars and attempts to forcibly rebuild the USSR.

Anyway, as I laughed at MTG, The Neurons pulled up Bob Dylan’s song, “It Ain’t Me Babe”. There are several versons but I went with Dylan’s original. I just like its simplicity.

Stay positive, remain strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. See you on the other side of midnight. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: coffeenated

It’s blue skies and sunshine forever for Friday, June 7, 2024, from my Ashlandia place on the town’s southern realms. Sprummer is holding strong but summer is leaning in. Air feels fresh and comfortable at 79 F, but we’re expected to climb the ladder to over 90 F before the sun delivers its final daily ration.

Mom has her new hospital bed. She seems pleased with it but. Yes, one but is that she claims it’s eleven feet long. Huh? Second criticism is that the mattress (which she says is plastic) is hard and uncomfortable. My wife warned me about that so I’ve ordered a topper for Mom. It’ll arrive tomorrow.

The weather’s sunny disposition pleases Tucker and Papi. They eat a few breakfasts in the morning and then take to the outdoors. Finding a comfy place, they sack out. Their comfort level goes to eleven on a scale of one to ten. After evenings long shadows spread, they come back in for more food.

I spent some time this morning reading news reports about the findings of the judiciary watchdog Fix the Court and how much Justice Clarence Thomas has been given over the years by his wealthy friends. Later, the Supremes released their own financial disclosures. Justice Thomas received more by far in number of gifts and their value. They weren’t cheap but we’re assured that they’re wholly innocent. My snark alarm immediately lit up, with my brain clamoring, “Sure, he wasn’t affected by expensive trips and baubles. No one ever is.”

Meanwhile, since I’d not had coffee at that moment, The Neurons introduced “Moneytalks” by AC/DC from 1990 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark bidding open). While the song is about a woman being attracted to wealth and how wealth affects judgement, ‘money talks’ as an idiom seems like it’s been around as long as money has been around. It’s the popular belief that having money opens doors, solves problems, and buys favors. In short, the wealthy are above the rest of us because their money affects outcomes. They can bribe their way to avenues the rest of us dream about, and they use their money to curry favors and get out of jams.

Yet, we’re to believe that friends like Harlan Crowe paid for Clarence and Ginny’s $160,000 cruise around the Greek Islands in 2007 because Clarence and Ginny are such awesome people. I’m certain that it’s just me because I’m a mad cynic, but I think deals like that are to gain subtle control over people. You know, tit for tat. It may not be bribes but it sure feels like buying influence.

Be positive and stay strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. The power of coffee is reverberating through my body. Let’s do this! Here’s the music. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: sprummery

“You make me feel so young,” I told the day. “You make me feel like summer has come.”

Yes, it’s sprummer in Ashlandia, where the crows’ conversations dominate the morning’s sounds. Today is Jun 6, 2024. School is out. Light clouds sketch patterns over the blue sky but mild haze mars our western view. Dust, pollen, fire somewhere? Don’t know yet.

Our temperature currently resides at 70 F. That’s a temporary stop, up sixteen from when the cats forced me out of bed. 88 F is our forecasted high.

In surprise news, Mom is receiving her hospital bed back in Penn Hills. Last that I knew, back on Monday, more paperwork of an unexplained nature was needed. Now, bang, the bed is being delivered today.

The news set up falling dominos of actions and reactions. Mom immediately called daughters to come over with their hubbies to dissemble and move the old bed. Sisters et al responded, “We can’t now. We’re at work, we’re at appointments, we have commitments,” which dismayed Mom. She needed and expected everyone to immediately come to her aid, and adulting prevented that from happening. Stress, irritation, frustration, anger, and resentment all gyrated upward. Mom felt abandoned, and her daughters felt unreasonably burdened. It’s worse because it’s all part of a recurring cycle of ‘come help me now’ and ‘I can’t, I’m busy’.

Viewed from a distance, out of that, The Neurons initiated “King of Pain” by The Police in my morning mental music stream (Trademark changing). The 1983 song elaborates on the many small, overlooked matters that causes an observer to feel pain for the others and their situation, feeling this in his soul. That pain translates to rain, and then they express hope that another would end the rain, which would end their pain. I’m certain that it’s this circle and unfulfilled hope which attracted Les Neurons to this song today.

Be strong, stay positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Also, enjoy, however you can, and try to make something of it. Coffee is doing its thing; time to go do mine. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: summery

Carrying on with modern traditions and protocols observed in the western world, I find myself in Wednesday, June 5, 2024.

What a Wednesday it is. Sunny and fresh, like it just came out of the oven. 74 F now, we’ll climb to 86 on the thermostat. No talk about rain or thunderstorms but some suspicious clouds are hanging around.

You see the weather in Texas? After clipping 105 degrees F in Marathon, Texas, they had a minus 50 degree swing and ended up with several feet of hail. It’s all part of a miserable extended period of bad weather and weather swings — thunderstorms, tornados, flash floods, extreme heat. A few are dead and power was out for over 600,000. I feel for Texans and hope that we don’t end up on the same route out here in the PNW.

Now a bon voyage to Wiltmore and Williams. I know it sounds like a law firm specializing in personal injury cases on late night television. They’re not. They’re astronauts on the Boeing Starliner heading for the ISS.

Today’s morning mental music stream (Trademark flooded) inhabitant is “Woman from Tokyo” by Deep Purple. The 1973 song is quintessential seventies rock. Yet it has that soft, reflective middle interlude that puts a pause to the rocking beat. Why are The Neurons playing it for me his morning? Don’t know. They’re not talking. While I remember several dreams from last night, I can’t trace the song’s lineage to any of ’em. Just another mystery. Either way, this is a fun rendition of the song for me.

Stay positive, deal with the weather as needed, remain strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music video. The coffee consumption has begun. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Coffeefied

Tuesday, June 4, 2024, has crept in. Sun and clouds play keep away. Air feels cool but humid. A sense of a storm is sneaking in. None is projected. Sunshine is expected to crack through and send the high to 84 F. We’re told it’s a heat wave starting but I don’t believe them. That’s science and facts, which is cover for made-up bullshit. Yeah, that’s some low-grade early morning snark.

Ashlandia is quiet and still this morning. Saw my first fawn of the year two hours ago. No bigger than Papi, my ginger flooft, the fawn was prancing up the street alongside momma. Love those little miniatures.

There’s all manner of news out there around the world. Most of it seems to fall in the ‘not-so-good’ bucket, like large and venomous invasive flying spiders and invasive snake-head fish which can stay on land for several days. The spiders aren’t flying like birds with wings. I would like to see spiders with wings, who also maybe sing. Then they’d start landing on our trees, singing us awake. Singing, flying spiders.

These flying spiders are actually ballooning. If they’re like ballooning humans, expect some festivals and an increase in wine sales.

I’m staying in Ashland for a comment about our newly paved Ashland Street. One of two main drags — the other is Siskiyou Boulevard — it’s actually half-paved at this point. No matter. It’s a vast improvement. I’m hoping the rest is paved before this re-paved piece begins crumbling. That’s the nature of our streets. We’re not the Romans, you know.

With the new pavement has come bold and vibrant street markings. But there’s new green lines, too. No locals I spoke with knew what they were, forcing me to investigate via the net. These green lines are apparently ‘bike boxes’.

“When the traffic signal is yellow or red, motorists must stop behind the white stop line behind the green bike box. Don’t stop on top of the bike box. Keep it clear for cyclists to use. No right turns on red at these intersections.” h/t to Marty Smith @ Williamette Week.

Well, wait then. These are now no-right turn on red intersections? That makes a huge impact on our driving habits.

My morning mental music stream (Trademark chillin’) features Smash Mouth performing “Then the Morning Comes” from 1999. “Why that song?” I coolly asked Les Neurons.

“That’s how it is with some people,” they replied. “Some just say and do shit out of the blue. They walk by and drop a bomb like it ain’t no thing. Just like the song implies.”

“Anyone in particular?” I inquired.

The Neurons snickered. “You probably have some ideas.”

I think these are the lyrics The Neurons are talking about:

[Pre-Chorus 1]
And the world’s a stage(And the world’s a faze)
And the end is near
So push rewind, just in time, thank anybody
You’re gonna do it again

[Chorus]
The way that you walk
It’s just the way that you talk, like it ain’t no thing
And every single day is just a fling
Then the morning comes

h/t to Genius.com

Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Time for some clickety-click. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: Persistfee (a sense of persistence fueled by coffee)

It’s a day of indifferent clouds and sunshine, this Monday, June 3, 2024. Rain spits and dries. Temperatures fall and bounce. 76 F, thermometers declare, but a chiller feel hangs in the air. Today’s high temperature is at hand.

Spoke with Mom this morning. She related bureaucratic issues keeping her hospital bed from coming on. I depend on her for the info so I can only accept her explanation. According to the PCP’s nurse, aka John, everything has been forwarded to the company who will deliver the bed. But they claim something is missing and hold that the bed can’t be delivered until this unknown element is delivered. It all has Mom and I swearing and wondering.

She sounds good, spirited and energetic. She’s been cleaning, she said. So what will the hired help clean when she comes this Thursday?  Mom declares, “I’m not going to pay her to come if there’s nothing here to clean.”

My sisters and I predicted this as a real possibility. Mom prides herself in a clean house. It’s a large part of her persona. Once the cleaner began coming, Mom rose up and began cleaning in anticipation of the cleaner’s arrival. She’d already said the cleaner wasn’t allowed to clean the kitchen because that’s Mom’s territory. Nor could the cleaner help with the laundry; Mom is very particular about how her clothes are washed and dried.

I think Mom is taking a narrow view of having a cleaner come in every week or two. Mom has rallied now but is that sustainable? When will she overdo her poor stenosis-plagued back and cause herself a new injection of pain and immobility? What if she falls – again – and hurts herself? Those are what-ifs, and pieces of logic. Mom’s issues with cleaning are emotional and psychological. Just one son’s opinion. I hope that these worries never see light.

Today’s song is “Green Tambourine” by The Lemon Pipers. The 1967 psychedelic pop hit is playing in my morning mental music stream (Trademark freeze-dried), and I don’t know why. Following the usual course, I interrogated The Neurons, but they closed ranks and shut down. Couldn’t even get a word out of them after plying them with coffee. Stupid little boogerheads.

Off to the coffee shop to let the muses play with words. Be strong, stay pos, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Raintertained

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

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