Whensday’s Theme Music

Mood: bubbly

Hello, fellow travelers. Today is Whensday, January 24, 2024. For some reason, when I started typing the date, the autotype tried changing the date to December 19. WTAF?

Moody gray clouds tease rain threats and wrestle with the blue sky. Sunshine shoots between them as the clouds jostle to takeover. There may be factions up in the troposphere, arguing over what the weather should be like in Ashlandia, where the deer are numerous and an annual subject for disagreement in our burg. It’s 52 F and mostly cloudy, and the high should have the thermometer pausing at 56 F. It’s rained and it’s windy and more might be on the way.

Reading some emails this morning, an update from Scottie’s Playground came up: Jesus 2.0/Christopher Titus/Armegeddon Update. Seeing that headline, The Neurons instantly shuffled “Personal Jesus” by Depeche Mode into the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). As Titus mentions, evangelicals have appointed DJT as their own personal Jesus. They tolerantly overlook his lying, cheating on his wives and affairs by declaring, “Everyone has a past,” and threat of violence, and snarl at the rest of us to stop being so mean to TFG and them. They’re just promoting this guy to make the world better, and they know this because god sent him!

While I cite the original Depeche Mode version of “Personal Jesus”, I also recommend and include the 2002 Johnny Cash cover. As his health was falling, JC — that’s Johnny Cash and not Jesus Christ — thoughtfully covered a number of rock songs, bringing a deeply personal delivery to them that makes ’em worth listening and thinking about.

In the means’ while, this is Whensday again because I’m weary of holding my breath and waiting for things to resolve, asking myself (drum roll), when will this be resolved? ‘This’, of course, is the Trump led, MAGA fueled, GOP supported, 3% funded effort to end Democracy in the United States. Whether that’s hyperbola is part of the whole Whensday question. We already know from experience that DJT was a sadsack of a POTUS, but weirdly, the MAGAs believe he was brilliant. I attribute a chunk of that to asymmetrical expectations.

Asymmetrical expectations were pointed out on Pondering Politics on Youtube when they dissected Gavin Newsome’s recent appearance on Bill Maher. Jessiah points out how differently the world, including the media, responds to the political parties in the US and their leaders when the MAGA segment unleashes a cruelly flavored shit storm versus reactions to when the Democratic side points something out, and Jessiah, our political nerd host, brings receipts. It’s worth a listen, IMO.

Stay pos, be strong, and keep leaning forward. Coffee has been sampled and approved, and is now being guzzled. Here’s the Cash and DM videos. Cheers

Mom’s House – A Dream

First, this isn’t anything like Mom’s real life house.

I was sleeping in the dream when something awoke me. I stayed in bed listening. Shades were pulled but daylight was growing visible through the slates. I knew I was in Mom’s and I thought I was alone but I was hearing noises downstairs. As I listened, I realized it was one of my younger sisters, so I dressed and went downstairs.

Down there, I found an open door that led to a patio. A man in half-removed black leather clothing was prostrate on the patio. My sister was further out on the patio, busy doing things. We said hello, and then I asked about the man. She said it was my cousin, Rick. (Due to the marriages and divorces, Rick isn’t her cousin.) Rick, half sleep or drunk, said with a grin and eyes barely open, “Yes, it’s me, Rick. I came to see you.” He then went to sleep.

I moved on out onto the patio. I’d need seen this house of Mom’s before, and was amazed. It was a white cement modern design on the ocean’s shore. Sunshine brightly lit the day. The tide was coming in, entertaining me with smells and thunderous cracking sounds. I was pleased and astonished and talked to my sister about this.

But — the house was right on the shore, although there was an elevation down to the sea. The incoming tide was coming closer and closer to the house, slashing the rocks and earth with heavy rolling waves. I worried about the house flooding, and watched until the waves were right at the house’s foundations.

Then something moved on my vision’s edge, flagging my attention: a black and white kitten was cavorting about on a cement piece. It disappeared.

I hustled over to look for it. It was down under white cement bridge trusses, along with another kitten. The second one was playing in the sea water. Horrified, afraid they needed rescued, I leaned further over.

A man and boy were down with the kittens. With me watching, the boy retreated, calling the kittens, who ran after him.

I headed back for Mom’s house. Now I could see more of its exterior broaded slabs of glass and white cement at arty angles, a very modern and interesting design, with several patios, porches, and balconies. I also saw then that the water had completed retreated already. I asked myself, “How did that happen so fast?”

Going over, I spoke with my sister, pointing out the tide threat to the house, because climate change was raising water levels. I showed her where I can see how high the water used to go, and compared it to this latest. My sister was dismissive, answering, “I know, but this is Mom’s house. It’s not my problem.”

I chastised her for that thinking but left. Mom and her partner arrived. We talked about the house but then she mentioned her other house and wanted her partner to go check on it because there’d be a storm early in the week. I volunteered to go with him and we headed for the door. Mom stopped me and said, “Do you need money? I can give you some if you need it.” I graciously turned her down, thanking her as I did.

Her partner and I arrived at another place. Isolated and not nearly as grand as the place which I’d just left, surrounded by mud and puddles, it was also white and modern, although it all looked shabby and dirty. I asked him, “Whose house is this?” When he replied that it belong to him and my mother, I followed up, “You two bought it together?”

“Yes,” he answered.

He and I made our way into the house. There was no furniture. In the kitchen, I discovered warped, damaged cupboards. I pointed these out to him, and he agreed, these needed to be replaced. I found an open window. Showing him, I asked, “Is this always left open?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Well, that’s what’s damaging the inside. That needs to be closed.”

Dream end.

Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

She entered with a confident stride, scoped the coffee shop and selected a seat. Little was special about her: about five two or three, slender build, upper twenties for age, disheveled crown of golden curls, average clothing. But those shoes, those bright mango-colored running shoes.

You can write a lot of stories about a woman in mango shoes.

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Exblueberant

Blue, blue, blue.

Today is January 23, 2024, and Tuesday. I awoke to a rich blue sky and booming morning sun. First time I’ve seen a rosy sunrise this year. The temperature was 39 F then but it’s already climbed to 52 F. Word is, 66 F might be reached. Super.

Tucker and I saw a hummingbird flitting around our bushes this morning when we went out onto the front porch. While I enjoy this stimulating clear, warm, weather, we need the snow on the mountains to survive the summer, so come on, nature. Give us snow in the mountains. Snow could become possible, my optimistic Neurons declared. Clouds are expected to steal in, and in fact can now be seen creeping over the southern mountains. So, rain can come, and cold temperatures can return, and snow can fall. Tick, tick, we’ll see.

Three pieces of political news struck me today. (Don’t worry, it wasn’t hard and didn’t bruise.) First up, Jamell Bouie’s simple observation in his NYTimes column.

DeSantis also refused to contest Trump’s election denialism, a choice that almost guaranteed his failure in the primaries. Can you seriously position yourself as a winner and Trump as a loser when the consensus of the voters you are seeking to win is that Trump didn’t lose?

So real; why do Republicans believe anything can change so long as they support Trump’s Big Lie? No evidence has been presented; it is simply his bombastic declaration it is so, and a legion of sycophants saying, “Yep, yep, yep, it’s true.” So bizarre, they are in that party, and getting more so.

Next, we had Rep. Pete Stauber (R). The government is financing a bridge to replace the Blatnick Bridge. Rep Stauber is crowing with pride for the bridge, these monies, and this plan, even though he voted against it. This is a common GOP tactic, and he got called out for his duplicity by many folk. Whether it’ll keep him from being re-elected is another matter; many voters have limited vision when it comes to their guy.

Finally, in this trifecta of info, the Doomsday Clock has been updated for 2024 and it’s still ninety seconds to midnight, the closest to midnight that it’s been since it was begun in June of 1947. The thinkers behind it point to threats posed by AI, climate change, and potential nuclear war. Don’t worry, though; we’re an intelligent, sophisticated species and are capable of thinking through these problems, arriving at effective solutions, and then implementing them. Yeah. Sure. (Yes, that is sarcasm.)

Enough of that stuff. To the music! I have the Rolling Stones’ song of 1966 in my morning mental music stream (Trademark doomed), “Mother’s Little Helper”. Reading and thinking about people’s health issues, I muttered something to myself about getting old. Les Neurons pounced. Although “Mother’s Little Helper” is about the drugs being prescribed to and abused by women in the 1960s, there’s a repeated line in the song, “What a drag it is getting old.” Yes, indeed, it can be a drag.

BTW, today marks the anniversary of the day in 1957 when the Pluto Platter inventor sold his product to Wham-o, who changed its name to Frisbee and began selling it.

Stay pos, be strong, lean way forward and vote for progress. My cells are already soaking in coffee. Here’s the music. Cheers

Dishwasher DIY

Came home yesterday after my writing session with a few grocery purchases, including a sandwich for lunch. When I entered the kitchen, my wife said, “The dishwasher isn’t working.”

The dishwasher is a GE Profile. I think we bought it about six years ago. “Okay let me eat and research and I’ll get on it.”

So I did those things and then ran the dishwasher on my own, studying the symptoms. Which were:

  1. lights come on; program selected; door closed; WASHING displayed
  2. pump runs to empty dishwasher
  3. time passes, and the machine is quiet
  4. WASHING display goes off; all lights go out
  5. I opened the dishwasher; bone dry; no water was entering

I pull and clean the fine and macro filters. That’s an easy first step and one I’ve done several times before. Neither are blocked or very dirty because I just cleaned them at the first of the month. They’re usually the culprits because unhindered water circulation and solid water pressure is needed for the dishwasher to properly operate and clean.

The manual is read. Nothing useful emerges. To the net!

The net suggests the overflow valve might be stuck. Just lightly tapping it with a wooden spoon might free it. Or it might be the recirculating pump.

I spend time looking for the overflow valve and can’t find it. I search for more information on the net but nothing helpful is found. I finally reverse my thinking and search, “Do all dishwashers have overflow valves?” No, more modern dishwashers don’t have ’em. Great; that was a lot of wasted time.

I put the machine into its diagnostic mode and run through those, confirming the dw isn’t filling with water.

More searching leads me to the inlet valve and how to reach, remove, and test it. The water feed to the dishwasher is turned off, as is the power via the circuit breaker. The pieces I need to access are behind the kick panel. It comes off easy enough but tight clearances and sharp edges make removing the inlet valve a tedious and time-consuming process. Some bleeding is involved but I get it off. The valve coil is tested for continuity and is good. They don’t recommend cleaning the inlet valve because of seals and tolerances. I resign myself to ordering a new one but on a whim, I gently shake the valve, thinking the valve is stuck and maybe shaking it will release it. Why not, right?

After replacing the inlet valve, turning on the water and powering up, I now have trickle of water. WTAF? I listen. The dishwasher stops and tells me on the panel, H2O.

Well, heck, it wasn’t showing that before. I confirm the water is on and no lines got kinked while I was messing around in the underside and try again. Same-oh.

Following nebulous thoughts, return to the net to search for other problems and find a video which suggests, pressure sensor. Attached to the recirculating pump, it’s easily accessible since I already have the kick panel removed. I pull the sensor, follow the cleaning instructions and re-install it, power back up, etc.

Works like a charm.

I’m astonished. I’m not mechanical, so I’m always pleased when I can find the instructions and guidance from wherever I can and repair something. It’s like a small victory in a big universe when I can declare something ‘fixed’.

Especially when I’m the one who did the fixin’.

Monday’s Wandering Thoughts

It’s a first for me. Today’s coffee shop crew is all male. I’ve seen all-female crews several times. As I wrote, this is a first. Wondered if it was planned, a response to females noting that there’s often all-female crews, or just happenstance of the schedule. I suspect the last one.

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