Another day has come our way, this one called Thursday, the ninth month of May.
Lots of clouds cover the Churchill Valley in PA where I’m located. Temperature has peaked at 64 F. Rain was forecasted but hasn’t shown up. Sitting on the covered back porch, listening to birds making their declarations, is a mellow, soul-clearing practice. Add a cup of hot black coffee and I feel synchronized with my existence.
I went to a concert last night. This was put on at a local high school and featured my nephew, Joey, son of my youngest little sister. He plays the trumpet. It was a jazz ensemble, and an entertaining evening. That was his last high school performance, as he graduates this month, so I was pleased to attend.
Coming out of the high school after the concert just after 8 PM, I fell in love with the softly turning indigo sky. Green grass surrounds the school. Freshly cut, the smell filled the air and carried me back. The Neurons responded by plugging a 1975 song into the morning mental music stream (Trademark suspended). “Green Grass and High Tides” by the Outlaws began last night and played a little longer this morning after I rolled out of bed. It’s a rousing southern country rock song.
Be safe and positive, remain strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has been sipped on for a few hours. Not very good stuff, but beggars, you know. Here’s the music video. Cheers
Sunshine rules Penn Hills and Monroeville this morning.
The clouds haven’t been dismissed like a MAGA claim. Oh, no. But they’re broken white and blue-grey pieces of what they once were.
This is May 8, 2024. Current temp here is 71 F. 82 F is our ceiling today.
We had a terrific thunderstorm around 1:30 AM this morning. Sky played cracked the whip with its sounds. I’d heard its soft rumbling beginnings as I was faded. Thought, what is that noise? Animal? Rain? Nope; thunder.
I listened to the storm progress and leave, then dropped into slumber land. There, the storm found its way into my dreams. Fun dreams, though. Nothing sinister or scary.
Mom had a good day yesterday. Physical therapist came by and spent time most of an hour watching her movements, talking to her, teaching her new exercises, closing with checking on the requested wheelchair and hospital bed for her. He was Jim, a nice guy. Man informed me that Jim also tends to clients in prison. I suggested that’s why Jim was selected to help Mom. A good laugh ensued.
Tonight, we attend my nephew’s final high school jazz ensemble concert. Other than that. preparations for a Mother’s Day cook-out at my sister’s house are in full bloom.
Conversations of note with Mom: she was talking about a meal her father used to make in the winters. This was a tangent from some jokes about goulash. She told me about slumgullion: ground beef, tomato sauce, macaroni or pasta, sometimes vegetables. I realized I’d eaten it throughout my life without knowing what it was called.
Another topic was the coal deliveries and the backbreaking work the boys in the household were required to do to get it into the house for its use.
It was absorbing talking to her and Frank about their youths, once again absorbing the mammoth changes in American living compared to eighty years ago. It definitely promotes speculation what people in America will be living like 80 years from now.
Today’s music comes from the dream. “Hang Fire” by the Rolling Stones was released in 1981. The Neurons released it to my morning mental music stream (Trademark stalled) after I contemplated my dreams this morning. It was a pretty good matchup. The song is a lightweight, pop offering. Not my favorite among the Stones’ offerings.
I would write about the Trump trial featuring Stormy Daniels, but I’m a little burnt out on it. I followed it live yesterday, discussing it with Mom. Now the trial has a day off, and I’m taking a day off from thinking and talking about it.
Nor do I feel especially inclined to bring up Gaza and the cease fire agreement, or the campus protests and crackdowns, politics in general, or the bad weather in some parts of the country and world. Just not up to it. More coffee is required before slipping down those muddy paths.
Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music video offering. Look at those youngsters!
Welcome to post Cinco de Mayo. Mild, light cloud cover delivers mixes of grays to the area atmosphere. Sunlight delivers mediocre light and warmth with promises of more. It’s Monday, May 6, 2024. While it’s a humid 65 F now, it feels like 69 F and they warn us that we’ll reach 72 F today.
Complemented with a baguette, little sister’s vegetable soup yesterday worked perfectly for lunch and dinner yesterday. Then came a thunderstorm which held me in appreciation for an hour. It’s been a time since I’ve experienced a solid thunderstorm experience. I made the most of it for myself. Mom worried about lightning striking me. Such a worrier. Then she told about how they used to race to trees for protection when she was a child and there was a thunderstorm. That brought good laugh.
Penn Hills/Monroeville are lousy with scurrying traffic, people seeking to reach work, school, appointments — who knows? Each car’s occupants have their own agenda and story. It’s a monumental shift from Ashlandia’s low key vibe. Sort of entertaining to be back in such an environment. The area seems to thrive with a sense of purpose.
Another change from there (Ashlandia) to here are the political ads. See them for both sides. Democratic ads feature Trump talking about ending abortion followed by a woman telling her story about almost dying and being saved by an abortion. Though losing the fetus, she recovered. She worries about the future and how these abortion laws will affect women and their health and safety.
Republican ads engage the ‘open border’ issue and the terror of people crossing the border. They tell the debunked story of one immigrant murdering a woman.
There’s little color in either ad. Both are addressing fears. However, the GOP ad doesn’t address how Congress with Republican leadership has worked against President Biden and the Democratic Party from addressing the border. If you’re casually involved in politics — not paying attention, in other words — could be swayed by either ad.
Have little fear about Mom not being informed. This is a political household I’m staying in. Mom and her beau are strong Democrats, leaning moderate to progressive on the scale on most issues. They have MSNBC and CNN on throughout the day covering the issues for them. CNBC is jumped to for a couple shows. Sometimes Fox is put on but it’s not long before they’re saying that they “can’t stand those people on Fox” and change the channel.
The Neurons have “Dani California” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark stonewalled). I blame Suzanne Craig-Whytock. “Californication” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers was the theme music the other day. Suzanne commented that she liked the day’s song but preferred “Dani California”. Thus encouraged, The Neurons started up.
I like the 2006 song, though, so it’s all good. Came off the same Californication album and shares the same stylistic flavors.
BTW, Suzanne is one of eleven authors long listed for the 2024 Leacock Memorial Medal for Humour for her book What Any Normal Person Would Do. So congratulations to her. I fully expect her to win. If a break from the nastiness of politics and depressing world events is needed, click to her blog and buy her book. Her subjects are real-life, anxiety-driven, and funny.
Okay, coffee is being downed. Be strong, stay fresh, remain positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Ima gonna go off to write now. Here’s the video. It’s a lot of fun as they parody leading rock/pop acts from several eras.
First came a blind cane tapping, tentative, sporadic, all over. Rain.
Studying the morass of oncoming darkening clouds, I stepped out and waited. Rain drops pecked my cheek, patted my hair, skipped off my arm. I waited.
A wind rushed through the trees like an animal unleashed back to the wilderness and scurried past me. The storm cleared the high distant hills with a ragged announcement of thunder. I waited.
More urgent drops approached They were serious about maintaining a constant dispersal rate and issued warning I was going to get wet. I waited.
The full regiment of rain galloped toward me. Thunder burst loose of its binds. Lightning ripped across the clouds. More thunder chased it with heavy energy. And the rain and wind came with a howling spirit, striking my clothes and skin, posting goosebumps on my flesh.
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.
Rain is falling on Thursday’s windows. It’s May 2, 2024.
You’d think that the falling rain would have The Neurons loading the morning mental music stream (Trademark washed away) with rainy songs. But that’s not the case. Another song dominates the mental music stream.
It wasn’t dreams. Had several which I can recall. They were surprisingly spirited, positive dreams and don’t seem to have anything to do with The Neurons’ song choice.
Nor are the cats inspiring the song, as far as I can discern. They’ren napping, recovering from eating breakfast. Playing twenty questions with The Neurons, I try to unearth their reasoning. They’re as cooperative as a witness pleading the fifth.
Meanwhile, it’s another wet and chilly spring day. 49 F, our high will be 53 F. Zing. Better than tornados.
Okay, here’s today’s music, “All Day and All of the Night” by the Kinks from 1964. I was eight, so I must’ve picked it up later. Probably about the time when “Lola” came out, in 1970.
Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has been done up. Here we go. Cheers
We started this day in Ashlandia, Wednesday, May 1, 2024, at 36 F. Chilly, baby. No clouds besmirched the blue sky. Sunshine stormed in at dawn. Asserting itself like a new young bull, the sunshine and front pushed the temperature up to 53 F. It’s still climbing with an expected final stop at 67 F.
The cats can’t wait until it gets that warm. Both stayed out for a testing period in the early hours but galloped to the house when I opened the door and offered sanctuary. Tucker and Papi are now napping like the house cats they are.
Yeah, my mood is oneofhosekindofdaysic. All first world blues junk. Fitbit crashing itself, losing two days of data. GASP! Stop the presses. Slow-loading pages. Connectivity matters at the coffee shop. OH NO, it’s the end of the world. Little matters like that which chip away at your spirit like water dripping on stone. It’s such a cruel world. How can I possibly enjoy my scone and coffee under these conditions? Yes, that’s 24 karat snark.
Reading news restores some semblance of balance. People killed in tornados and storms. I can’t deter my brain from imagining what their death must have seemed like. The noise and power of the storm followed by some manner of incident which causes their demise. Seems like a lonely and terrifying way to die. Of course, hearing incoming missiles or artillery shells also seems terrifying. Is it worse when a blow just comes with little sound and warning? What about being a child in a school listening to one your classmates picking off your peers as they walk the halls with a semiautomatic weapon? That also seems like it would generate all-consuming terror.
One of my nephews experienced his 18th birthday recently so I was thinking about him. Naturally, The Neurons conjured Alice Cooper to the morning mental music stream (Trademark simmering) with “I’m Eighteen” from 1971. The song came out three years before my eighteenth natal day, so I had a ready-made theme song for the day.
I pondered the differences between what I was like and my life, and my young nephew. A straightforward comparison is hard to generate. Our social mediate in those days was passing notes and writing letters. Information was just beginning to emerge beyond AM/FM radio and the big three national television networks.
But I think both ages embody a sense of chaos and challenges. I think that’s so for every generation, no matter the era. We face the same issues of finding our nature and going forward as adults.
He, from my vantage, is an intelligent, poised, and talented individual. My sis, his Mum, is proud of him, and so am I. I look forward to seeing him soon. I hope he votes this year and casts a blue ballot.
Okay, I’ve boarded the coffee train. Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the rock video. Stay chill. Cheers
I remain on the carousel, counting days up and counting days down. So many days left in the year, so many days left till the election, the trials, the starts and ends.
I’m sitting on Tuesday, April 30, 2024. A mass of clouds, gray and big as an elephant herd, is sitting on our valley. The thermometer is sitting on 46 F. Sunshine comes and goes as clouds coalesce, shrink, and move on. We will reach 57, the weather folks declare.
“Totally unacceptable,” Papi declares, going out, and then returning. How can he do his rounds and ensure the yard is safe under these conditions? Tucker, older and wiser, eats, washes, shrugs off the weather, and joins us in the office. He settles into his bed and is so slumbering.
With Tucker’s health improving, he’s gained weight and energy. He’s also rediscovered his singing voice. He was a mezzafloofprano this morning, belting out arias for food and attention. It’s very endearing to see.
Thinking about the news, chatting with my significant other about it, we get into the ‘yeah-buts’. Yeah-buts dominate life. A situation is summarized. Or a question is asked. Etc. Then the yeah-buts arrive.
Like Hamas, Gaza, and Israel. They did this. Yeah-but the Hamas did that.
The SCOTUS said this. Yeah-but the Constitution says that. Yeah-but Alito.Yeah-but Roberts and his legacy concerns.
The weather is this. Yeah-but.
POTUS polls say this. Yeah-but Allan Lichtman says that. Yeah-but the polls. Yeah-but the trials. Yeah-but the economy. Yeah-but the Supreme Court. Yeah-but Clarence Thomas. Yeah-but Mike Johnson. Yeah-but the GOP resignations and infighting. Yeah-but.
Yeah-but enough for now. The yeah-buts are overflowing in my mind. I’m counting up and counting down.
Back in the kitchen, I went into the coffee-producing segment of my morning. BTW, my mind asks, why is it called a ‘kitchen’? A detour is made to research its roots. The usual suspects are involved: Latin, Old English, Middle English.
Okay, back to making coffee in the kitchen, where my mind sings, “For the love of coffee.” This is sung to the O’Jays’s song, “For the Love of Money”. Gleefully, The Neurons strike up the 1974 song in the morning mental music stream (Trademark brewing). I sing my version, “For the love of coffee,” and dance. Tucker watches with judgmental soicism. Papi heads to the door and yells for his release.
Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue 2024. The coffee is upon me. Here’s the O’Jays. Cheers
Mood: optermined (yes, that’s optimistic and determined: optermined)
Good morning’ sunshine. Good to feel your presence.
And hello, clouds. Not a surprise to see you coming back today. Felt like your visit here wasn’t over.
Hey, winds. You’re here, too? I understand rain is on the way.
That’s the weather set for April’s penultimate day, Monday, April 29, 2024. May is going to kick it on Wednesday.
Well, alright. We’re still experiencing spring. It’s coolish with that wind, and the clouds have more impact than then sun in deciding the temperature. Right now, yeah, 51 F, with a high of 57 F as a maybe top end.
Papi doesn’t approve of this weather. The ginger floof went outside, announced, “This is unacceptable,” stormed back in and headed for bed.
Tucker, my other house floof, just ate, washed, and curled up by my feet, like a worn-out puppy cat.
They were fed and happy. I made coffee and toasted a cinnamon bagel, then added butter, sugar, and cinnamon. I felt like I deserved something extra today. I had things to do and was a little impatient with existence. It was time to get things started.
Triggered by that phrase, The Neurons selected the Lenny Kravitz tune from 2001, “Dig In”, and commenced playing it in the morning mental music stream (Trademark in purgatory). Good theme song. Like the solidly energetic pop rock vibe it carries.
That’s it for this post. Stay fresh, be strong, remain strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. I’m gonna seize the coffee now. Here’s the music. Have a better one, friends. Cheers
Sun and clouds compete today. Their efforts culminate in a pleasant spring day, almost perfect for Sunday, April 28, 2024.
It’s 55 F at this point, just two degrees below our expected high. No rain or other precipitation is expected, despite the clouds. And guess what? No thwumper today. Don’t know if the job is done or they’ve taken the day off.
Three conversations dominate the household today. Nothing about Trump or his trials, the SCOTUS, or the election is being discussed.
No, today’s main topic began yesterday on Reddit. It was asked of women, “Which you rather meet a bear or a man in the woods?” It generates first, what kind of bear? Men are generally preferred over polar bears. People are ambivalent about the grizzly, but most said they’ll take a brown or black bear over meeting a man in the woods any day.
Salient points made were like, if a bear attacks you, people believe you, whereas, if it’s a man, it’s iffy. As one commenter summed it up for us, ‘”Har har, this woman would rather run into a bear than a man,” isn’t the comedic piece you may think it is. Instead, it’s a sad testament to the lives of many women and girls.’
One woman said in a tangent, “If I see a bear in my backyard, I’m not worried. But a man in my backyard is trouble.” She then explained her reasoning.
It’s a sad situation. So many women have been abused or killed by men that distrust among women has surged. And men are frequently responding with anger, resentment, and diatribes against women. That doesn’t move the needle in a positive way for men.
Next up in topics is whether I’ll go visit my aging mother. My wife is very supportive of me going to visit. (I actually think she’d experience it as a mini-vacation from the being who is me.) My goals would be to give Mom an emotional lift and help her with her daily needs, providing a break for the rest. They rightfully sound emotionally exhausted. I think I’ve decided that I will go. I just need to make the plans.
Finally, in what is seen as good news, our third subject is how great Tucker is doing. Energy levels and interaction are up, he’s gained more weight, and he’s eating with enthusiasm. I was telling him every day that he needs to eat and gain weight and strength, and he’s earnestly doing so.
Today’s song comes from looking for the thwumper yesterday. My wife was trying to see it but the sun was in her eyes. Hearing this, The Neurons responded with “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds”.
The 1967 song is a Beatles composition. Written mostly by John Lennon, it was inspired by his son’s artwork about a classmate. Young Julian Lennon specifically told his father the drawing was “Lucy – in the sky with diamonds.” (h/t to Wikipedia.org).
I know of the original song and covers by three other bands or individuals. I always enjoyed Elton John’s 1974 cover best, so I went with it.
Be positive, lean forward, remain strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has found its way into me. Time to rock and write, at least one more time.
Michael Seidel, writer 