Tag: youth

A Race Car Dream

I was a young man. And I was at some kind of car race where I was to be a participant. Several emerging factors swirled and fell and rose. Nobody was expecting me. I wasn’t sure what was going on. I then confirmed, gosh, I am in this race.

Employing strange dream logic, the race was sometimes played as a card game with a board track. Other times, it seemed like a slot car setup, but then it was sometimes full-sized race cars. I’d seamlessly skip between those motifs but the dream itself was mostly centered on race control where I’d check the time sheets, find out where I was on the track, and learn my position. The people populating race control were all tall, older, and white. Most seemed British. I never saw any of the cars so I can’t comment on their colors or livery. But I would identify them. Like I told some once that another driver was piloting a Porsche 917 and another was driving a P3 Ferrari. Someone else was wheeling the Silk Cut Jaguar XJ9.

I swapped cars. I don’t know what I was driving but I suddenly announced, grinning, “I’m driving a Ford GT.” This is a car which won LeMans and the world championship in the mid 1960s and helped seduce me as a racing fan when I was nine. I didn’t specify which variant I was driving.

I learned that I’d qualified fourth but some bureaucratic snafu shuffled me to the pack’s tail end. That didn’t bother me; I shrugged it off with a grin. I was confident that I would win, as I’d qualified fourth with minimal effort. Now, recalling, I actually did have one segment where I was in the car, on the track, during the race, passing clusters of other cars. I then left the car, blink, and was back at race control to check my standing. They didn’t know who I was. I was certain I was leading but they dismissed it. I was told that I’d done something incorrectly and my laps hadn’t been counted. I didn’t know I was supposed to do that, I protested, but that wasn’t their issue.

None of that fazed me. Grinning, I told them, “But I have all these chits.” The chits were small red paper rectangles, like the old-time ticket stubs given at movies in decades past. I received them every time I completed a lap. As I told them about the chits, I held up a fistful of them. Expressing astonishment, they counted the chits and announced that I was in the lead.

I met the news with a happy grin and readied myself to keep racing. Dream end.

I enjoyed discovering this footage of the 1966 LeMans race featuring the Ford GTs. Nice to hear the voices of Bruce McLaren, Dan Gurney, Denis Hulme, etc., and see them. Of course, the staged Ford 1-2-3 finish was made famous in the movie Ford vs. Ferrari, where Ken Miles (played by Christian Bale) was first across the finish line but was deemed not to be the winner because another car started further back, so it covered more distance.

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Monder’s Theme Music

Mood: Mondering

Monday trotted in on rain and clouds but sunshine has made the scene. It’s October 21, 2024. Fall continues its strong run. Traditional Halloween colors dominate the landscape. Colorful leaves blanket the roads, smother the sidewalks, inundate the yards and fields. With a temperature now of 56 F, we don’t expect much more warmth today, as temperatures will sputter to a high in the low sixties. As they used to whisper in a certain set of novels and a television series predicated on those novels, “Winter is coming.”

I’m gifting today’s Monday the name of Monder, a sort of mix of Monday and wonder. As we start the week and advance toward election day — one day and two weeks away — I wonder WTF the MAGAlopes’ leader will do next to surprise and disturb the world.

News is heavy with trumpcapades. Lord, the things he does while ‘running’ for office. Put it that way because it’s more a comgedy as he embarks on surreal rifts and character assassinations, expressing little about his policy. Served fries — such a man of the people! (Yes, that is snark.) Also posted AI generated imagery of himself as a muscular, built Steeler player, a far reach from his true physique. The man’s ridiculousness and outright weirdness are deep. And yet, they’re unconsciously so very Trumpian, revealing him as a fake person, pretending to do and be things which he never was.

Having seen Project 2025 and Trump’s first term, we have some strong indicators of what his presidency would be like and why he doesn’t articulate policy positions, instead dancing around stages. We’ve been watching the right-wing stripping women’s rights, attacking the social safety net and education system, trying to homogenize the population, values, and culture into redneck vanilla while constructing the foundation for a authoritarian state. All while claiming to do what the Founders desired. Hilarious if it wasn’t so darkly surreal.

Hurricane Oscar is taking on Cuba after beating up the Bahamas, so fingers crossed for that nation and people that they come through without overly horrendous results. We’re still dealing with Milton and Helene’s aftermath in the U.S. The latest problem from the hurricanes is the rise of Vibrio vulnificus, which can lead to flesh-eating bacteria, necrotizing fasciitis, and death.

Today’s music comes off a tangent about thinking about today’s youth. Not just youth but adults. Many adults seem oblivious, disinterested, or overwhelmed with current events and history. I wonder if the youth is paying more attention. I like to hope they are. I remember myself as a youth. My world events interest was peripheral to sports, music, and reading. So I hope our youth is better than me.

Anyway, the song The Neurons fished out of memory for the moment is “Oh Very Young” by Yosuf Islam, previously known as Cat Stevens. The thoughtful but light 1974 song has taken over the morning mental music stream (Trademark young). Came out the year when I graduated. I think I still sound fresh, but then I’m pretty stale.

Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue. Coffee and I have commenced our tango. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Something Else

The signs of aging pile up,

Promising on some days to beat you up.

Hair losses, hair changes, where the hell does it go?

Why can’t I get it to look right, why won’t it look just so?

Sometimes you ponder the person you had been.

You think you see them staring back, hiding from within.

Other times you wonder, if you ever were that way?

And if you were, what can you do to look that way again?

The weight you gain, how the body thickens,

Everything sinks and sags and generally looks in ways that sicken.

Then someone tells you how great you look,

and you wonder, is that a joke?

If you think I look good today, you want to say,

you should have seen me back in the day.

I was something else.

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Trusting

She’s riding her bike. Looks about fifteen years old. She’s in the bike lane. Headphones cover her ears. Her hands are busy with her cell phone.

Yes, she has no hands on her handlebars.

She passes in a flash, steadily pedaling. I’m both admiring and dubious. It’s a busy street and she’s going along a stretch with many business entrances and several intersections.

I admire her confidence but I’m a little dubious about her decision making. Ah, youth.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: homenormalized

Today is Saturday, August 24, 2024. It’s a chilly 54 F this morning. I turn on the fireplace and open the blinds. Light rain peppers the greenery with some needed moisture. Sunshine emerges and steam begins rising. Today’s high will be an un-summery 70 F.

We’re back in Ashlandia, where the worries are palpable and the angst is regular. A second well-established restaurant is shutting down after years of business. This is a trend we don’t like.

Ashlandia is dependent on tourism. Drought, pandemic, fires, smoke, and economics have all tested our tourism. Each have contributed to a point where the ‘you are here’ dot is tiny and prickly. We’re home to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. It’s our major industry, abetting revenue brought in by being an outdoor adventure location for fishing, rafting, and skiing (Mt. Ashland) and what Southern Oregon University contributes. Under the impact of those big five factors of pandemic, etc., we’ve been in a slow downward spiral.

We’d already lost the seasonal business called the Water Street Cafe. It’d been a longtime draw but the owner passed and the survivors couldn’t make it work. It’s now a crepe place, and we have high hopes for that.

Last week, the Black Sheep Restaurant announced they’re shutting down. Now Cucina Biazzi is closing. We’re already lost many book stores like the Book Wagon, and coffee shops like The Beanery and Cafe Boulevard. In their place, we’re gaining used clothing stores, marijuana dispenseries, and tattoo parlors. This are not major draws when every other town is offering more of the same.

Being back home, I miss stepping out of the Waldport vacation house and into the seaside environment. I enjoyed going out there each morning and tasting the breeze, studying the tides’ levels, and gathering in sunshine and clouds. I do the same thing here, but it’s not the same with the ocean missing.

I begin another theme for the coming week today. The theme now is songs with time in their titles. Lots come to mind. The time theme came out of being stuck in traffic yesterday as an accident was cleared away. The first song offering from The Neurons is “Time Won’t Let Me” by The Outsiders from 1965. The fast-paced rocking roller is filling my morning mental music stream (Trademark delayed) like I was back in a neighbor’s Wilkinsburg basement listening to it on a 45 record. Actually, I think my memories have better fidelity than that little record player in use. I would’ve been about ten at that time.

Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue. Coffee has made itself comfortable in me. Time for the music. Cheers

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Sunday’s Wandering Thoughts

We went to Lake of the Woods Resort last night. The agenda was to dance, socialize, have fun, and unwind.

It worked as intended. Twenty-seven miles away up in the nearby mountains, we arrived in forty-five minutes. The smoke had retreated. Surrounded by tall trees, on the edge of blue water, the picturesque scene was fresh and sigh-inducing. Saucy was the band. They played pop, rock, and disco, like “Lady Marmalade”, “Rebel Yell”, “Life in the Fast Lane”, “Shut up and Dance”, “Bring Me to Life”, and “Honky Tonk Woman”. We ate barbecue meats with potato salad, cole slaw, and mac & cheese.

But the star was this little five-year-old in a red shirt. Up there on the steps to the stage, they entertained with Freddie Mercury and Elton John moves interspersed with inspiring air-guitar solos. Yet, the old man in me couldn’t help but think about the damage they were doing to their young ears, standing in front of a rock band’s amplifiers.

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Rebelfeinated

TL/DR: It’s hot, liberty is in danger, Vote Blue, and “Come Together”.

Sunshine is slicing through the blue sky like a sword scything through air.

Today is Wednesday, July 3, 2024, and we’re looking at a hot one. 73 F at this intersection of existence, the hot temperatures will test us with peaks in the mid 90s. They’re just prepping us for the SHS – Seriously Hot Stuff – descending on us tomorry.

For giggles last night, I was thinking of a song called, “My Country, Tis of Thee”. Around for a while, many just call it “America”. Its second line is, “Sweet land of liberty.” With MAGA-led initiatives, an asterisk needs attached to that line. Not a land of liberty for book-reading in many GOP realms where they’re banning books in schools. Nor is there liberty if you want to encourage diversity, equity, and inclusion, nor if you dare risk raising your voice to discuss climate change and its dangers. Not a land of liberty if you’re talking about using a name which you think fits who you are, nor is it a land of liberty for you if your gender isn’t exactly as stated on your certificate of birth. Don’t overlook the limits on liberty if you’re a pregnant woman, no matter how it came about, because in Godly Republican states, you don’t control your body. That’s the state’s job, so shut your mouth and do as they tell you. That’s GOP-style freedom in the MAGA dome.

Today’s music was created by the songwriting team of Lennon-McCartney. The Beatles released “Come Together” in 1969. Thirteen years old, I loved the freakin’ song. Fifty-five years later, The Neurons have brought it up in response to our political atmosphere and have it going in the morning mental music stream (Trademark united). Yes, some crazy messages are in that song but that basic vibe, “Come together”, is what The Neurons are feelin’. Come together and support President Biden and the Democratic Party in 2024. Come together to stop the MAGA train and its authoritarian destination. Come together to bring some semblance of a vision of America moving forward to a pinnacle where we all share equal rights and freedoms, regardless of our physical and sexual attributes, a place where we’re willing to negotiate and compromise as needed to improve life for all and protect the planet. Yeah, I may be a dreamer, but I know more are out there.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has crested past my lips and has infiltrated my body in a good way. Here’s the music. I choose a different version from the original but included a couple takes of the song for your viewing pleasure. Any buzz your neurons in a pleasure way?

Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Fridayitis

All things must pass, and so Thursday has passed into Friday, April 5, 2024.

It’s a rainy day. Was a rainy night. Clouds are blockading the sun. That’s April weather in the US, isn’t it? “April showers bring May flowers,” and all that.

Not an American idiom, though, but a British one. I looked it up on the net, so it must be true.

April showers bring May flowers

Adversity is followed by good fortune. An old proverb, it was taken more literally in days gone by, and in fact it appeared in a British book of Weather Lore published in 1893.

h/t thefreedictionary.com

So, be optimistic, I tell myself. I hold to hope even though sometimes adversity follows adversity until it’s an absolute train wreck.

It’s 38 F in my slice of Ashlandia. Expected to reach 52 F. Showers are also expected. But sunshine soaks the back yard and soars in through the southern windows. Papi, my ginger house floof, is engaging the sun in the yard. Tucker, the black and white house floof. is luxuriously grooming in sunshine through the eastern living room windows.

After feeding the two floofs earlier, Papi hunted me down in the kitchen. I was preparing my meal. (Floofs eat first. House rule. Not sure who decided…) Papi sat beside me and planted a level gaze on me. “What is it?” I asked. “Are you hungry? Need more to eat?”

Papi responded, “Meow.” I recognized that as, yes. Well, probably yes. It could also mean, no. Or, what? Or, maybe.

Taking it as one of those, I fed him again, since morning pate remained. He ate a thumble’s worth and headed for the back door. I believe I misinterpreted his meow.

We spent last night out with friends. First, food at a Medford restaurant, Tap & Vine. Then we headed to the Craterian Theater to catch a show, “The Simon & Garfunkel Story”. It’s a little story about the American folk rock duo, Art Garfunkel and Paul Simon. The story was interspersed with a cavalcade of their songs over the years.

What a cavalcade. “Bridge Over Troubled Water”, “The Sound of Silence”, “The Boxer”, “Homeward Bound”, “I Am A Rock”, “Cecilia”, “The Big Bright Green Pleasure Machine”, “Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme”, “A Hazy Shade of Winter”, “Bookends”, “Mrs Robinson”, “Feeling Groovey”. I’m certainly overlooking a few.

Probably not a surprise, but the crowd was a mostly over sixty collection. One companion joked, “Gray hair is required to attend.” There was a significant quantity of gray in the hair among attendees. But Simon & Garfunkel songs peppered our youth. Yet, Mom knew them, too. I remembered her singing “Mrs Robinson” to me when I was trying to ask her some question.

The song that often stays with me is “Richard Cory”. Why not? A 1966 song based on the Edwin Arlington Robinson poem, “Richard Cory”, it’s a tale of envy and jealousy. A man works in a Richard Cory-owned factory. Cory is rich, a man about town, attending the theater, driving fancy cars, having big parties, etc. The worker singing in the song works in the factory, hates his job and despises his poverty. But it’s Richard Cory who ends up killing himself.

Ironic, isn’t it, we mock. The man with everything is the one who takes his life.

Anyway, this is the song which The Neurons planted in the morning mental music stream (Trademark illusive) on this April Friday morning. Hope it brightens your day.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue. I’m into my coffee already, thanks. Used it to wash down a buttered bagel. First course was canteloupe chunks. Fine way to start a Friday. Here’s the music.

Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: sated

Good afternoon. Getting around a little late to this posting today. I dibble and dabbled the morning away, dashing up and down the Interstate and around town during late morning and early afternoon before returning home for naps and reading for a few hours.

It’s November 11, 2023, Saturday and Veteran’s Day. Awoke to a new battle between a feeble sun trying to crawl through chilly gray fog to reach us. Finally worked after a few hours, lifting us from about forty up to a skin scorching 55 F. Bazinga.

As we went zipped about town today, we had lunch and then began joking about our energy levels. “We used to be younger,” my wife and I teased one another. Yes, we used to be crazy, and we used to be fun. Now we’re prudent from mistakes made and lessons learned. Well, with happenstance, we turned off NPR games to pop on the car’s FM radio, and there was Miley Cyrus, repeating our words back at us.

[Chorus]
I know I used to be crazy
I know I used to be fun
You say I used to be wild
I say I used to be young
You tell me time has done changed me
That’s fine, I’ve had a good run
I know I used to be crazy
That’s ‘causе I used to be young

h/t Genius.com

We laughed and my spouse mentioned how much she enjoys the Miley Cyrus song, “Used To Be Crazy”, which came out earlier in 2023. And then I started wondering, when exactly did we start talking about when we were young? I think it was when I was in my forties, which is now about twenty years ago, depending on where the marker in my forties is thrown down, but I can’t verify it without a time machine. But how often do we mourn the passage of our youth and the new people which we end up being? We reflect on how our metabolism drops lower and lower, and with it often goes our energy levels, and maybe our attention levels. I also mourn hair loss and how many body shape has change, and oh, yeah, that hair has grayed and thinned. Were wrinkles mentioned? I forget.

I won’t say that I’ll never be the person I used to be. Techology may surprise us in new ways, like cloning a new version of Michael that I can inhabit with life memories and acquired knowledge intact, which could be pretty cool. Or perhaps an invention that comes along which washes out old cells and blows us out clean and fresh once again, even tailoring the result into which age we’ll like to be. I think I’d like to be 32 again.

Oh, well. This is the shit that is us, and such is life.

Stay positive, be strong and brave, and keep leaning forward. This concludes this portion of my posting day. Here’s the video. Cheers

whi
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