Thwump, thwump, and away, in my beautiful, my beautiful machine.
Today calendar markers are Saturday, April 27, 2024. Tack on rainchi in Ashlandia. Rain keeps getting released. Temperatures this week have seesawed between highs in the 50s using Fahrenheit as the standard, and low forties at night That’ll continued today.
Had some squalls yesterday. My wife and I treated ourselves to dinner at a local Mexican restaurant. While we were in there eating, winds like the furies arrived. Then came some driving rain, the kind we don’t often see around here. These conditions were gone within fifteen minutes. Puddles and street gutters filled with draining water were left behind. But when we drove home, we came across sections of the city which seemed completely dry. Weirdness.
Today’s music is “Even Better Than the Real Thing” by U2. The Neurons nestled the 1992 song into my morning mental music stream as I played with story concepts while addressing my floofmeisters’ demands to be fed brekkie. Little thinking for such their breakfast deeds (food selection, bowl cleaning, heating water to add to the pate and kibble, reassure them that food is on the way). That leaves plenty o’ brain material for other matters, like writing in my head. The science I arrived at within the thinking was even better than the real thing, and there we were. Presto, the music began.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue 2024 for President Joe Biden and VP Kamela Harris. That’s my plan. Coffee has invigorated the thinking and ambulatory processes; here we go.
The weather has pressed pause on the rain. Shards of broken sunshine are coming through but as soon as they broach the dark clouds’ defenses, a new mass of clouds rush in to patch it up.
A refrigerating breeze circles the streets with a load of petrichor. Like a madeleine for Prost, the petrichor delivers stacks of memories. I flash to being a boy in Wilkinsburg and Penn Hills, PA, a young airman in Korea and Germany, a tourist walking outside a tavern on a darkening day to visit with Dad in West Virginia.
Mood: Froptimistic (Friday, which inculcates buoyancy and optimism.)
Today, Friday, April 26, 2024, is bundled with chilly rain, a phenomena which meteorologists refer to as ‘rainchi’. Rainchi is the industry term for ‘rainy & chilly’. Meterologists rarely use the term on the radio or television because they’re paid by the word.
BTW, that was fake news. I used several AI search engines to look for the word. One told me, “It appears that you made that word up.” Good enough for me.
We began with thwump thwump thwump, etc. That disappeared about eightish. Looking out, I saw that the ceiling had swallowed the top of the mountain where the chopper had been busy. A light mist was making the land drippy. ‘Nogood’ (another word I made up, cleverly combining ‘no’ and ‘good’) conditions for the helicopter’s task.
While we’re currently enjoying a temperature of 42 F, we’re braced for a sharp thermal uptick to 52 F as our high. Woowee, will it be warm then.
The cats don’t care. This morning found them giving up on being outside early. Both were like, “Screw that, I’m gonna go sleep somewhere.” That was that.
Today’s song was created and released in 1999. “Someday” by Sugar was summoned by The Neurons into the morning mental music stream (Trademark nixed) as I was fulminating on a dream and preparing les floofies’ breakfast repast. I think The Neurons had it right this time. It works for the day and mood.
Stay positive and strong. Lean forward and Vote Blue in 2024. Don’t let the gremlins drag you down. I’ve had coffee, thanks. Here’s the video. Cheers
I look outside. We have 100% cloud cover. “Maybe it’s been called for weather today.”
A while later, a blind person’s cane taps across the roof. Rain is falling.
It’s Thursday, April 25, 2024. 51 F, it’s not warming much more than that today. Good day for mellow indoors activities, such as reading, housework, writing, drinking coffee.
After reading news coverage of the SCOTUS consideration about whether POTUS can have absolute immunity, I want to engage in other things and pushed it into deeper realms of my mind. It’s a challenging question to consider. I agree with the civil limitations previously established by the Supremes. Now, though, can the POTUS be granted absolute immunity about everything? Should the chief enforcer of the nation’s laws be immune from those laws? That seems surreal.
I also am boggled that Justice Thomas wondered about why former ex-presidents weren’t charged and tried in some matters and brings up “Operation Mongoose”. That was JFK’s CIA efforts against Fidel Castro. As JFK was assassinated while in office, how the hell could this be relevant? More headshaking about Justice Thomas is undertaken on my end.
You know, Thomas is 75. If President Biden is too old for his job, what about Justice Thomas? Just sayin’.
The cats were ravenous early. Then they were eager for loving. Took a while to make them happy today. Probably the weather change. That’s my go-to reason for most of the cat’s behavioral matters.
Having conversation with my wife about going east to see Mom and to get her some in-home help. I’ve asked my sister about it for her opinion and history of the matter.
Back in the kitchen, making breakfast, The Neurons bring a mellow break up song from 1999 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark impeached). As “Never Meant” by American Football gains substance, I call on Alexa to play it for me. Coffee is sipped as I watch the rain drip out of the clouds and think about life, existence, and the whole tangerine. “Never Meant” is such a mellow song, it’s perfect for a quiet rainy day.
Stay positive and as sane as you can. Be strong and Vote Blue in 2024. As noted, coffee has been ushered into my system. Now for the music for your benefit. Enjoy. Cheers
The helicopter — there’s just one, despite the traveling, echoing sound — continues its cleanup action. Good news: it isn’t black. No one rappels down from it.
Other than the chapter, Wednesday, April 24, 2024 in Ashlandia, offers up a mild and attractive spring day. 55 F, hunting for a 68 F high. Scanty clouds are mixing it up with the blue sky and sunshine.
Depressing news on the Mom front. She returned home but is suffering a lot of pain. I’m flummoxed. After days of being mostly upbeat, she’s in pain, angry, snapping at everyone.
Why is she in pain again? What’s the source? It seems to be a culmination of issues. She’s eighty-eight. Systems, muscles, joints fail. Pain ensues.
I try mounting context around her situation. She wasn’t allowed to go to my nephew’s eighteenth birthday party. Arrangements were made so she could join via Facetime to sing happy birthday. She was a no-show. When contacted, she said she saw how she looked on the screen and didn’t want anyone to see her like that.
Meanwhile, there were miscommunications and misunderstandings when she returned home. The facility offered her a wheelchair. Mom said, no, because she has one at home. The sister with her didn’t say anything but the rest of us responding, “What wheelchair? She doesn’t have a wheelchair.” So that opportunity was missed.
Her home stairlift quit functioning. Turns out that it needs a new battery. There are claims that it’s been beeping for weeks. Why didn’t someone notice that and do something about it? That would make sense, wouldn’t it?
Mom’s live-in boyfriend and my two sisters who live near Mom are emotionally exhausted. They’re struggling with their health and life matters. Mom calls for them to come help her but their balance is broken. It’s become harder for them to rise to the moment. They’ve been doing so for about five years.
A third sister leaves near Mom. Her husband has just been diagnosed with prostate cancer. No other details are being leaked. They’re a secretive couple.
My fourth sister, the oldest sibling, now 70, lives in Georgia. She works, but her finances are tight. Going to help Mom would be a huge financial challenge for her from what I know.
And I, I sit across the country in my world, frustrated, guilt-ridden because I’m not there to help. I feel selfish. I want to go to help them.
I am selfish. I’m trying to pursue my long-delayed writing dreams. And I have my wife, house, and cats to take care of, along with a bunch of other issues. If I go back to help Mom and the rest, that puts a lot on my wife. She’s dealing with her own matters.
I feel like I know what I must do. Sacrifice and go. But also load it on my wife. And that causes more stress, more guilt, more depression.
Bit of a rant, wasn’t that? I know so many others have gone through like situations. I watched and helped as my wife went through this with her mother for several years. Other friends and relatives have gone through it or are going through it. This is part of modern American life.
On to music, okay? The Neurons have loaded ELO’s 1977 song, “Turn to Stone”, into the morning mental music stream (Trademark overdue). I get that. I feel paralyzed by demands, choices, and the need for decisions. Yeah, I’m turned to stone. Need to suck it up and move.
One other matter on my morning agenda. A toast to Voyager 1. NASA has restored contact with it. Launched back in 1977, a friend of mine was involved with its mission planning with NASA. He passed away from a brain tumor a few years ago. He said that he was only involved in a small degree. His expertise was measuring plasma composition in different regions of space. But even a little involvement is something. So, to Voyager, NASA, and Ed.
Be positive and keep strong. I know it can be a struggle. I’ve already launched some coffee into my body but I’ll probably add another round. Here’s the video. Cheers
The copter continues the watershed cleanup. I can watch him manuever through the kitchen window. Sounds give clues of his comings and goings. Right now, he’s resting in the air above the peak of a conifered-blessed mountain.
Looks like a good flying day out there on Tuesday, April 23, 2024. Sunshine gleams off windows and cars. Full-fledged green leaves on trees dapple lawns and houses with shadows. A few clusters of cloud islands hold steady on the western horizon.
It’s 17C outside, about 62 F. We’re heading for a 76 degrees F high. Rain has a chance but it’s less than 40% chance. Usually at those odds, we don’t see it.
Mom is supposed to be heading home today. She should actually be there, per the schedule, as she told me she was being released noon Eastern. Which was almost an hour ago. I find that most hospitals are optimistic about when things will happen. Like the military and DMV, there’s a lot of waiting at a hospital. I’m living on a hope that she’ll go home today and be relatively healthy and happy for a while and put some of these health scares to rest.
With that thinking, I tripped down the trail of what it used to be like back home, when I still held the flowers of youth in my appearance. The Neurons responded by conjuring a jazzy Stevie Wonder song that speaks to that essence, “I Wish”. The 1977 song is echoing through my morning mental music stream (Trademark drifting). I found an online offering of him doing the song live in 1982. Sweet. I hope you enjoy it.
Here we go. Stay positive and be strong. Vote Blue in 2024, and let’s see if we can stem the retreat of rights and sanity. Coffee is brewed and ready to be introduced to my body.
Thwump thwump thwump…the helicopter goes on, up above the mountain high, hovering and waiting, waiting and hovering, picking up its load, going away again, dumping the load, coming back again.
Gotta be boring up there. Least the pilot should have a nice view, up above the trees so high, like a moon in the sky.
It’s a clear Monday, with blue running infinitely on and back again. Sunshine drenches the scene. 69 F now after an overnight low of 40 F, the thermometer is scaling the degrees. Probably stop at 76 F, they tell me. It’s April 22, 2024, for those keeping score at home.
The cats are as happy as floofs lazing in sunshine. An ear sometimes stirs. Another moment witnesses an eye cracking open a hair width. Other than those infrequent movements, they seem set for the next few hours.
Back in Pittsburgh, a new report has Mom feeling unwell again. Tests are being run. She’d been doing well and was scheduled to return home tomorrow. We’ll monitor all for the outcome. Little sister, aka grandma G, provides me with updates. She and her hubby had been sick herself recently. But they’re better know. Just seemed like a mild flu. I think we live in an era of health uncertainty. Sure the pandemic plays a role. I notice that many people around Ashlandia grow angry but resigned when they get sick. Wonder if that’s must my bias, or does this happen elsewhere?
Musically, The Neurons have “For All the Cows” ringing in my morning mental music stream (Trademark backtracking). Utilizing that song’s melody, I’d been singing about coffee. Actually, it was about my coffee cup. Like, I need a cup, a coffee cup, I’ll fill it up, if I had a coffee cup. I’d been wandering with the cup. It mindlessly departed my hand as I slipped through rooms and tasks. Found it in the third place I looked, my bathroom. Yes, I drink coffee in the bathroom while I’m shaving and dressing, okay. Although I didn’t shave today. Didn’t feel the need for a blade on my skin.
“For All the Cows” is a Dave Grohl/Foo Fighters production. Came out in 1995. It’s soft quasi-jazz opening and strange words are beguiling. I listen to it and search for some kind of meaning for what he’s singing about. I’ve always tentatively concluded it delivers an analogy comparing people to cows but also addressed success and the changes success brings to the herd, how you change herds with success. I don’t know. My understanding shifts, depending on my moo-ed. Heh.
Stay positive, strong, optimistic (that the same as positive?), and lean forward. Please Vote Blue. Now, more coffee and cow music. Cheers
Mood: Sunflective (it’s sunny, and I’m reflecting on life, the universe, and everything)
It’s Marijuana Day, don’t you know. That is 4/20. Add a 2024 and make it a Saturday, and you have the full day/date situation.
420 is a reference to the time to meet and light up a doobie. That time originated with a group of U.S. high school students meeting up at 4:20 PM to search for a marijuana field. I originally heard it was police radio code for marijuana.
Another warmish spring day has touched down in Ashlandia, where the coffee is fresh and above average. It’s 70 F right now. Despite clouds breaking in over the horizons, today’s high has a few more degrees to go. You know the floofs are in full agreement with tasting some warm sunshine, don’t you.
Today’s music is about Dickey Betts. Lead guitarist (a job shared for a period with Duane Allman) and vocalist with the Allman Brothers Band, he passed this week, 80 years old. Man, when ABB came out with “At the Fillmore East” in 1971, I bought that thing and added it fast to the rotation. I’ve had a version of that double album from vinyl to digital ever since. Still play it once in a while when a nostlaxing mood strikes. Nostlaxing would be nostalgic and relaxing. You get it, don’t you?
Once while listening to “Whipping Post”, my wife, who’d come to embrace electrified blues, entered the room and asked, “Who is that playing guitar?”
“That’s Dickey Betts and Duane Allman,” I answered.
She listened a bit more. “Wow, they’re good.”
Yes, they were good.
But the song hooked in the morning mental music stream (Trademark sliding) is a better-known Allman Brothers tune. This is “Ramblin’ Man”, naturally. This live version from 1972 has Dickey on vocals and lead guitar. He wrote the song, as well. Dickey Betts, 1943 – 2024.
Be strong and lean forward. Vote Blue in 2024. Fresh coffee is flowing. Mine is black and sugar-free. Best way to imbibe it. Here’s the video. Cheers
Mood: Fribulent (It’s Friday so my spirits are up but news is bringing me down.)
‘Tis Friday, April 19, 2024. Spring continues an upswing. 66 and sunny after a cloudy, chilly start to the day, 73 F is expected to present as the high. Tomorrow is expected to be close to the same.
It’s lovely, energizing weather. I get out there and feel the sun and it’s like a double espresso has been downed. Lot of outdoor work is finally getting done.
Our hausfloofs, Tucker and Papi, agree. They managed to get much done in the sunshine, bathing themselves and guarding my wife as she lounged in the sun reading and sucking up vitamin D in an epic display of multi-tasking.
Despite these warmer temperatures down in the valley, some scattered snow remains in the mountains around us. The local ski resort, Mt. Ashland, is closed for the season.
Some local news has me down. Cougars are regularly spotted in town. People post their sightings on a website made for that purpose so we can keep an animals safe and avoid the area.
But a cougar was sighted 250 feet from a local elementary school about half a mile from my house yesterday. It killed a friend’s cat. Then the authorities killed the cougar.
Such majestic, fascinating animals, I hate seeing them disposed like that. I understand the aspects for and against. Doesn’t make me happy.
This wasn’t a spur of the moment matter. Brock, the killer, had received threatening phone calls from a man. He had time to call 911 and receive police assistance when the Uber arrived. The victim, Loletha Hall, couldn’t call for help because the killer demanded her phone before killing her.
Two kickers for me. One, the killer claimed that she was trying to rob him on his property. Her dashcam video shows the truth. Two, this only now seems to be becoming national news. It had happened in March. Maybe I was just negligent following the news.
No doubt they’ll show all the extenuating issues. I’m sure it’ll be argued that Ms Hall was a victim of circumstance, and that William Brock was a confused old man stressed by circumstances brought on by the scam phone calls. He, they will say, feared for his life, and that of his family.
Still doesn’t explain why he didn’t call the police before killing an innocent, unarmed, uninvolved person in broad daylight. Especially as he says he figured it was a scam. If he figured it was a scam, why did he shot and kill Ms Hall?
He has been charged with felonious assault, kidnapping, and murder.
“It just strikes me that more and more, nothing really works in America anymore,” Hawley told Fox News host Laura Ingraham. “I mean, our roads are falling apart, our bridges are falling down right in front of our eyes. Pieces of airplanes are falling out of the sky.”
Viewers and netizens point out that President Biden has been working on infrastructure plans and that Sen. Hawley “was one of 30 Republican senators who voted against a $1.2 trillion bipartisan infrastructure bill in 2021, which contained money for upgrades to highways, bridges, airports and other major projects.”
The GOP are using the same gaslighting tactics that the use on immigration and the border issues. They bemoan a lack of progress even as they vote against any efforts to improve the situations.
They are miserable, miserable, miserable, lying, unprincipled individuals. Sadly, too many people tune into facts and will sit there, nodding their wooden heads as Hawley speaks, agreeing with what he’s saying.
Well, that felt good. Enough of soaking up news and becoming mired in anger and depression. Not letting that stuff rule my life. Sometimes, it feels like a wave rising up to overtake me. I just got to keep beating it back. Writing, friends, and coffee help.
The Neurons are filling my morning mental music stream (Trademark fumbled) with “Border Song”. Written by Bernie Taupin, performed by Elton John, “Border Song” came out in 1970 in the U.S., and was the first song to chart in the U.S. for Elton. When I first heard the song, I always thought its title was Holy Moses.
The question of why this song is playing today has been asked of The Neurons. They have not responded.
Stay positive and strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee is flowing, my friends. Help yourselves. Here’s young Elton John. Cheers
Sunshine is shooting into the valley. Seems like it’s coming from everywhere. The cats aren’t up on the weather report so they’re inside sleeping. But when they cotton on to the broad sunshine and rising temps, they’ll be out there.
Yes, it’s a blue sky day, a beautiful new day. Already up to 62 F, the high should top off ten degrees higher. This is Thursday, April 18 2024.
Yeah, reading the news. Trying to keep up, especially with developments in Gaza, Ukraine, politics, and Trump’s criminal trial. I mean, this is history, right?
Sure, them closed eyes and head nodding doesn’t mean anything. No, we’re the ones who aren’t sleeping, Sleepy Tee. We know exactly who you and what you are. You can lie about it and cast spells on weak individuals and enthrall them with your bulltrump, but we aren’t fooled.
With this weather, The Neurons have summoned ELO with “Mr Blue Sky” to the morning mental music stream (Trademark flooding). Multi-layered and tres pop, the 1978 hit can easily be mistaken for a late 1960s Beatle offering. What really stops you is the voice. ELO’s Jeff Lynne doesn’t have a Beatle voice.
Stay positive, be strong, keep leaning forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. It isn’t a lessor of evils; President Biden and the Democratic agenda is a better choice. Coffee is bubbling through me. Here’s the music. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 