Driving through town to my coffee destinaiton, I heard Elton John performing “Bennie and the Jets” on the radio today. The Neurons immediately slipped alternative lyrics into my head.
D-d-d-Donny and the ICEss Oh, but they’re weird and armored up Oh, Donny, he’s really mean He’s got mango skin, and they shoot to kill You know the Minneapolis scene, oh D-d-d-Donny and the ICEss
Sure, it’s because ICE and Trump are heavy on my mind with what’s going on in Minnesota.
But it could just be that I need more coffee, quick.
Sunday, January 18, 2026, commenced as an extension of Friday and Saturday’s weather in Ashland. Dry, air stagnation continues from an inversion layer, making air unhealthy by trapping particles. Although now in the 30s to 40s — 32 degrees F at my house — blue sky and sunshine promise another venture into the sixties today.
Meaning temperatures in the 60s, of course, not the famous years of demonstrations, civil unrest, hippies, and war in the United States, the 1960s. Wait; that 60s may be coming, too, the way I.C.E. violently attacks We the People and Trump escalates military power to bully other nations.
As a 1960s teen, I watched confrontations between protestors and the Federal government on the television nightly news. Now, in 2026, I’m watching the news from Minnesota.
Minnesota has become the focal point of ICE tension in 2026. Trump ordered U.S. military troops in Alaska to be ready for deployment to Minnesota. Minnesota has National Guard ready in response to the ongoing unrest tied to ICE enforcement in Minneapolis.
That’s an interesting inversion of the 1960s, when state governments used national guard units to enforce segregation. Presidents Eisenhower (Republican) and Kennedy (Democrat) responded by Federalizing the national guard or sending in military troops to enforce court rulings.
Back in the 1960s, the perception was that states were resisting change and wanted to continue treating Blacks as lessor individuals, with fewer rights.
Now, Trump is trying to treat anyone who doesn’t support him and his policies as lessor individuals, with fewer rights, and using ICE to bully people into submission. Then, as now, race and power were key issues.
It’s not overly surprising. Progress is uneven. A relatively young nation — just 250 years old — the United States is still adjusting to this whole idea of We the People, with freedom, justice, and equality for all.
It’s a classic situation. Who has the most rights, Federal government, state government, or We the People? Trump’s posture is usually, “The State is Me, and I have the power.” He also claims that We the People gave him the power when he won the support to be POTUS, completely warping the concept that he’s the people’s servant.
After the morning news scan, The Neurons offer Dropkick Murphys and “Citizen I.C.E.” in the morning mental music stream. Not my usual genre, so I wasn’t familiar with the song, learning of it through Crooks & Liars. Watching the Minneapolis crucible to see what happens today, “Citizen I.C.E.” emerges as a worthy theme song.
May your day satisfy your needs today and start an upward trend of good things happening for you. I’m going to address my needs with a little coffee now, if you don’t mind. Cheers
Despite not working for anyone since 2016, I had another work-related dream last night. This wasn’t from my last employment with IBM but was with one of the medical startups from earlier, shortly after retiring from the U.S. Air Force.
We were in a large, clean, bright room. The company’s engineering section, thirteen people, including their director, were at tables shoved together across the room. I, the lone marketing person, sat on the room’s other side, alone.
Wanting to be involved, I moved over there and asked for permission to sit in on their meeting. They were developing the product I would market, after all, and I was part of the team that collected input on the product’s design. The director and others said, “Sure,” so I sat at the edge, so I wouldn’t be intrusive.
Note that all of these people were known co-workers from real life from two different medical device startups.
Not feeling included, I left after a short period, returning to my space. But I had nothing to do; no assignments, no emails, no phone calls.
With no warning, children suddenly swarmed our workspace. I don’t know why they were there. Crossing back to the engineers, I discovered that they were gone, then spotted them leaving the building.
I followed them out. They were going up a dirt path into the mountains, past large boulders and pine trees. One said, “Look, there’s a huge bald eagle up there.” He pointed.
I nodded; I’d heard about the bird earlier and had seen it. I didn’t know what the engineers were doing. Seemed like it could’ve been some team-building exercise, so I left again.
Heading back down to our office, I realized that my boss was in Paris for a trade show. I’d not heard anything from her, which was unusual. Then I realized that she hadn’t included me in any of the show prep.
Deciding that I didn’t really have a job, I thought that I should probably look for new employment and began compiling a resignation letter in my mind as I walked.
Floofline(floofinition) – An imposed date or time by which things must be done for animals. Origins: Unknown, first cited in writing in 1885,“A Feline’s Guide to A Well-Managed Household”.
In Use: “Abig-gal joined the house on February first, and established her flooflines for fresh water, breakfast, lunch, supper, dinner, tea, snacks, treats, and desserts by February second.”
In Use: ‘In Chapter 1 of “A Feline’s Guide to A Well-Managed Household”, Queen Florence decreed, “Humans must be made to understand that flooflines, such regular feeding times, must be established and consistently met if there is to be order and happiness among the household pets.”‘
Ashland, Oregon, landed on Saturday, January 17, 2026, with a quiet sigh. Freezing fog still plagues us but it’s invisible and doesn’t make us freeze. Temperatures now sit at 55 (my house), 51 (online) and 55 (Alexa) degrees F. Despite air stagnation, freezing fog, and an inversion layer, we’ll hit the mid to upper sixties today.
The snow drought bothers me. I’ve only lived here for 20 years. Dog knows memory is imperfect but this snow season is a monumental shift from my lived-in memories. We don’t usually get much accumulation in Ashland, but we typically get flurries a few times. An inch to three falls, giving us a lovely morning treat before sunshine burns it off into a memory.
There’s been no days like that which I’ve seen this year. I remind myself, this is still January and a couple winter months remain, and spring snow isn’t unusual. Just waiting, I suppose, for a reminder that it is winter.
Waiting for snow, I feel like I’m in stasis. Not the usual stasis where I don’t age and the outside world and I don’t meet. This is more of the stasis of waiting, like, ‘drop the other shoe already’ stasis.
That applies not just to weather. With Frank and Dad gone — two of the triumvirate parental units in my life — I await word on Mom. Regular accounts report her as increasingly less lucid and physically weaker. I think sis does a superb job of helping Mom, and continually thank her in my head and in conversations with her.
Part of my thanks float up whenever I do Food & Friends deliveries. I think, without sis, Mom would probably be in a situation like this, awaiting a knock on the door for a meal delivery, struggling to get to the door and get it open. Many recipients on our route live in nice homes but several lodge in apartments or motel rooms. There must be a better solution that doesn’t cost a gazillion dollars.
Part of my stasis also centers around ICE, especially with Minneapolis. Paul Krugman referred to that city as the ICE crucible, which fits; it’s an ICE experiment for how far Trump can intimidate through force and violence before someone reins him in.
Outside my home, the world spins on its own axis. Trump’s overtures about acquiring Greenland sound more frequently like Putin in Russia talking about Crimea and Ukraine. It strikes me less about geopolitical strategy and more about imperialistic land grab to acquire mineral rights.
So, I wait and wonder, will we go to war over Trump’s Greenland obsession, and how much greater will ICE’s violence against American citizens become?
The Neurons responded to my state with Queen of the Stone Age — “No One Knows”, in the morning mental music stream. The song opens,
‘We get some rules to follow. That and this, these and those, no one knows.’
Those opening lyrics work for my morning mind set. We’re given rules of living but the rules for dying are less defined. Likewise, Trump is a chaos multiplier, breaking rules and establishing his own rules, increasing tension and anxiety.
Hope your day is stress free and strong with hope and grace. Meanwhile, I will break my stasis with coffee and step into the day. Cheers
Jerry Seinfeld and George Costanza are two characters from “Seinfeld”, a television series which was originally broadcast last century. Jerry Seinfeld played himself as a comedian living in New York, alongside Jason Alexander as his best friend, George Costanza.
I ran into Jerry in a dream. Jerry and I were talking when George came up. Jerry said to me, “Hey, we’re going to a comedy festival. Should be fun. Want to come?”
I agreed. After brief discussion, we decided I would ride with Jerry in his car, and George would drive himself, due to commitments after the festival.
Jerry and I set off on a straight road toward a sunset. Looking back, I confirmed George was following. Turning back, I watched the road in silence. Jerry, behind the wheel, was absorbed with his phone. We were coming toward a tree-line section and another vehicle was closing fast when I realized we were drifting across the centerline.
I said, “Jerry, the road,” but in a calm voice.
Without saying anything, Jerry set his phone aside and took the wheel, moving us to the right side.
We arrived at the open festival and met up with George. Jerry led us to our seats in an open-roof amphitheater. I settled in and watched acts, and then concocted my own and delivered a monologue up where I stood. To my surprise, it was broadcast a few minutes later to much laughter and applause.
The show ended. People began moving toward other activities. I realized that I’d lost track of Jerry and George and began walking around, both looking for them, and taking in sights.
Coming across a large pond set in rocks with fountains spraying into the air, I went into the water, in part for fun but also to escape the crowds. When I came back out, I realized that I’d been wearing sunglasses. I searched my pockets in case I’d absently taken them off but decided that I must have lost them in the water. Beginning to retrace my steps, I shrugged it off with the realization, the loss didn’t matter because this was only a dream.
The Trump Administration offered an updated food pyramid this week.
A woke exercise, they stood against ultra-processed foods, just like Michelle Obama did. Unlike the former First Lady, Trump advocates eating lots of fat.
Trump’s food pyramid became a mocking exercise after Brooke Rollins suggested that you can have your fat and eat it, too, by suggesting a really, really, really cheap diet — which she also claims is healthy.
Tortilla, broccoli, ‘a piece of chicken’: US agriculture secretary mocked for ‘money-saving’ meal
In answer to questions, Brooke Rollins said,
“I think the question you’re asking, and it’s a really important one, is while we’re asking Americans to reconsider what they’re eating, are we actually asking Americans – especially those who are living on the margins – are we asking them to spend more on their diet?
“And the answer to that is no,” she continued. “We’ve run over 1,000 simulations. It can cost around $3 a meal for a piece of chicken, a piece of broccoli, you know, a corn tortilla and one other thing. So there is a way to do this that actually will save the average American consumer money.”
Trump claims everything is going so great, he jokes about canceling the elections. My question becomes, if it’s all going so well, why is the Trump Administration running simulations for how Americans can eat cheaply?
Tell you what. Let’s see Trump walk the talk. Let’s see him live off the $3 meal of chicken, broccoli spear, corn tortilla, and ‘one other thing’.
My sense, given Trump’s previous responses to things, is, he will say, “Why should I? I don’t have to.” Because that’s how he works and thinks. “More for me, less for you,” is his overarching motto.
Besides, Trump knows as much as we do that the suggested diet is absolute bullshit.
It was the weirdest damn thing. I backed out of my garage and drive this lovely Saturday morning. As I straightened the car and drove down the street, a gray Tesla 3 pulled from the curb, preceding me. We were close enough and angled right that I noticed the driver — an older-looking, white woman, short gray hair.
She went down and stopped at the hill’s bottom. As I pulled in behind her, another gray Tesla 3 cruised by. Hand to Dog, that Tesla’s driver looked just like the first two.
The Tesla ahead turned left, falling in line with the first gray Tesla. Gasping with delighted surprise at such serendipity, I pulled up to the stop sign. Another gray Tesla 3 went by with another white, female, gray-haired driver.
No way, I thought. It was almost like a surreal dream.
Settling behind the three gray Teslas with their gray-hair white drivers, I wondered. Is this a trick of my mind, or triplets driving identical cars? I also imagined that an elaborate ruse was being pulled, but who was the intended victim?
Temptation arose to follow them and see if the three cars ended at the place and if the drivers really looked alike. But coffee, writing, and routine called, and I peeled away, leaving the mystery to be solved by another.
Michael Seidel, writer 