Hey y'all. So - tomorrow is Halloween - and I'm still not 100% sure of one aspect of my costume, so - I have that to ponder.
I also need to cut up some fruit, prep it, and get to bed early for an 8AM Dentist appointment south of town. So, as you can see, I've made the sensible decision to blog.
I'm having a little anxiety for several reasons that would be boring to anyone but me. It's all about scheduling, and that's never fun or easy to muddle through. Basically, I don't know which project to panic about more - the one that is larger, or the one that is first to occur. And the problem is, I don't have enough details on either to get started. Such is the nature of this work, I'm learning.
Meanwhile, at the ranch, Piper and I are sitting out on the deck. It's warm enough, with a sweatshirt, or, if you're Piper - a fur coat.
I've been having, in keeping with the theme of anxiety, some crazy ass dreams of late. One involved three dreams that melded into one. The first took place in a large soap shop in Paris. That one moved into a very strange plot of an episode of Blackish, and finally, I finished with a bunch of school kids performing their original musical entitled, "Who Fucked it Up?"
That was Saturday night. Sunday night was even more interesting. It was part Science Fair competition, part conference where I was trying to remember names and faces and relationships, and part bus ride through a town where I didn't know exactly where I had to be, and when. And I couldn't get the map on my phone to open up.
Aren't you glad I decided as part of my atonement on Yom Kippur to start blogging about my dreams again? ME TOO!
I wore my new cowboy boots to work today and I was reminded of a few things. One, I do not like for my feet to be hot. This is going to require some conditioning. Two, I love the way boots elongate my legs and make me look taller, possibly even a little thinner. Three. I have gotten used to shoes with no support, which makes wearing stiff boots a little bit of an adjustment. Four. Damn, they're cute. Five. Damn, they're noisy. You cannot be a ninja in boots.
So, my other recent obsession is a result of the recent death of one Robert Guillaume. To those of us of a certain age and location - namely, Late Boomers - Gen-Xers in the US - it's likely you remember him from one of two things: Soap, and/or Benson. He actually plays the same character, at least by name, in both shows. I would say that Soap's Benson and Benson's Benson are a little different - or at least, an evolution. But I'm not going to give a character study here, because that isn't, in and of itself what I'm obsessed with - also, it's been too long since I've seen enough episodes of both to make an intelligent case. I won't even get into Sports Night, which... that's its own blog for another day.
What I'm obsessed with is the theme song to Benson. I mean, obsessed. I pulled it up the day I read about Guillaume's death, and I've listened to it a few times a day since. I don't know why I am so compelled by it, but it's the multiple key changes, the way it takes me back to the late 70s early 80s. I miss good TV theme songs. See also: Sanford and Son, One Day at a Time, Good Times, Cheers... I loved television. I still do.
Give this a listen. Feel the feels:
And with that, I'm going to go to bed and see if the tooth fairy comes tonight in advance of my dentist visit.
Sweet, sweet dreams.
I also need to cut up some fruit, prep it, and get to bed early for an 8AM Dentist appointment south of town. So, as you can see, I've made the sensible decision to blog.
I'm having a little anxiety for several reasons that would be boring to anyone but me. It's all about scheduling, and that's never fun or easy to muddle through. Basically, I don't know which project to panic about more - the one that is larger, or the one that is first to occur. And the problem is, I don't have enough details on either to get started. Such is the nature of this work, I'm learning.
Meanwhile, at the ranch, Piper and I are sitting out on the deck. It's warm enough, with a sweatshirt, or, if you're Piper - a fur coat.
I've been having, in keeping with the theme of anxiety, some crazy ass dreams of late. One involved three dreams that melded into one. The first took place in a large soap shop in Paris. That one moved into a very strange plot of an episode of Blackish, and finally, I finished with a bunch of school kids performing their original musical entitled, "Who Fucked it Up?"
That was Saturday night. Sunday night was even more interesting. It was part Science Fair competition, part conference where I was trying to remember names and faces and relationships, and part bus ride through a town where I didn't know exactly where I had to be, and when. And I couldn't get the map on my phone to open up.
Aren't you glad I decided as part of my atonement on Yom Kippur to start blogging about my dreams again? ME TOO!
I wore my new cowboy boots to work today and I was reminded of a few things. One, I do not like for my feet to be hot. This is going to require some conditioning. Two, I love the way boots elongate my legs and make me look taller, possibly even a little thinner. Three. I have gotten used to shoes with no support, which makes wearing stiff boots a little bit of an adjustment. Four. Damn, they're cute. Five. Damn, they're noisy. You cannot be a ninja in boots.
This is my boot - they are way cuter in person. |
So, my other recent obsession is a result of the recent death of one Robert Guillaume. To those of us of a certain age and location - namely, Late Boomers - Gen-Xers in the US - it's likely you remember him from one of two things: Soap, and/or Benson. He actually plays the same character, at least by name, in both shows. I would say that Soap's Benson and Benson's Benson are a little different - or at least, an evolution. But I'm not going to give a character study here, because that isn't, in and of itself what I'm obsessed with - also, it's been too long since I've seen enough episodes of both to make an intelligent case. I won't even get into Sports Night, which... that's its own blog for another day.
What I'm obsessed with is the theme song to Benson. I mean, obsessed. I pulled it up the day I read about Guillaume's death, and I've listened to it a few times a day since. I don't know why I am so compelled by it, but it's the multiple key changes, the way it takes me back to the late 70s early 80s. I miss good TV theme songs. See also: Sanford and Son, One Day at a Time, Good Times, Cheers... I loved television. I still do.
Give this a listen. Feel the feels:
And with that, I'm going to go to bed and see if the tooth fairy comes tonight in advance of my dentist visit.
Sweet, sweet dreams.
Comments
Telling stories like that is one of the better uses of television.