Author: Michael Seidel

Science fiction, fantasy, and mystery writer. Singer (sorry, no shows) & nudist (in my home). Beer, cat, cheese, coffee, pie and wine friend. Left IBM and Silicon Valley for the southern Oregon life but I miss the ocean. We're too far inland. Gotta move.

Munda’s Theme Music

Greetings from Ashlandia to all you Mundaheads. Yes, we’ve reached another Munda milestone in our mostly mundane lives. I’m speaking for myself, of course. I’m sure none of the rest of you deal with a Mundane Munda.

The weather here is mundane, sunshine with clouds, blue skies, and the sometimes drizzle. Out looking for spring last night, Papi, our ginger housefloof, was wet every time he re-entered the house following a nocturnal patrol. I never heard any rain. I assumed Papi was dashing through sprinklers. When I got up, though, I saw that, yeah, it had rained through the night. We’re still looking at a taste of the low 70s F today and an overnight low in the upper 40s. This week promises more time bouncing through rainshine.

Cleaning the garage and taking away the trash yesterday brought an expanse of free time to silently think. I used to do these sort of tasks with a boom box playing. I don’t bring out the boom box any longer. Boom boxes were so ubiquitous last century but I haven’t seen anyone using one for years, it feels like. So my work was done in silence. I didn’t mind the silence, as I practiced fiction writing in my head, a feat which always intoxicates my muses and brings them back to give me more.

The other thing from yesterday was the lack of floofervision. I used to share floofmeciles with several cats. Most were active floofervisors, there to help me open boxes and study the contents. Papi was more of the laissez floof management style. He showed up to see what I was doing and ensure nothing to eat was there but usually left with only a short comment. There was a time when the likes of Jade, Tucker, and Quinn would be stamping things with their paw of approval. Sort of missed that but at the same time, less interruptions to move animals were needed.

Politic news again had me GRRRRRRRRRRRing over my morning coffee. I read that the Roberts Court is allowing the Trump Regime to remove protections for Venezuelan refugees while it’s still being contested in court. A lower court had stopped the deportations and kept protections in place. Trump disliked them because, you know, President Joe Biden had extended those protections. Trump’s regime argued that the protections were not in the nation’s best interests and undermined national security. Therefore, the protections should be removed so the Venezuelans could be shipped out of the United States. Reading that, I thought, “Trump’s actions aren’t in the nation’s best interests and undermine national security. Can’t we depart him?” Then I sipped some coffee and smiled.

Another of my friends took the pledge. She wrote on FB: “I’m done posting shit about the clown. I’m just so sick of his garbage. Im sick of the clowns in Washington too afraid to stick up for the American people, their constituents or just filling their coffers with bribes from the orange clown and his fellow billionaires with the goals of killing off the poor, I’m just sorry for the folks who voted for him and will now have all of their programs and help cut.

“So I’m done. No more. I know what I know and see and read. And hopefully someone will have the balls to throw the garbage out”

We know who she means: PINO Trump. I feel her. He’s only interested in enriching himself and his family, as long as they are also going along with him.

Today’s music came during my work yesterday. As is often the case, The Neurons started song based on something they observed or perhaps a fragment of thought or a fleeting memory. They act on it, and music arrives in the mental music stream. In this case, it was a 1980 song by REO Speedwagon, “Keep On Loving You”. Why in the world did The Neurons snag this song while I was cleaning the garage and cars, etc? I don’t know. It remains in the morning mental music stream, though. Freeing myself of it requires me to offer it to the general public. So here it is, from my head to my computer to the internet to your computer (or other electronic device) and then into your head. Isn’t technology amazing?

Well, that’s the morning stuff. Coffee has been loaded and stored in my energy cells. Now I’m ready to get ‘er done. Pitter patter, here we go — again. Cheers

0

A Short Weird Dream

I dreamed that I had a blue SUV. I think it was a Chevy or GMC. It was one of the larger varieties but a recent model

The vehicle required work. I didn’t know what was wrong with it and wanted to check the SUV out, so I lifted it up and put it on its rear end. It was too tall for me, so I shrank it by motioning with my hands using them like I was squeezing the vehicle, until I was a few inches taller than it.

A person witnessing all of this asked, “How did you do that?” They went on to explain what they witness, adding, “I’ve never seen anyone do anything like that.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t think about it. I just knew I could, so I did.”

Dream end.

1

Sunda’s Wandering Thoughts

I wonder if they’ll ‘reboot’ the James Bond movies by re-making them.

Will there be a female or trans 007? I know a Black 007 has been discussed.

Oh, sorry, I remember that Casino Royale was considered a reboot, and that several subsequent movies have been called ‘reboots’. I don’t get that. Guess what I was/am thinking about are ‘remakes’. Will they remake, for example, Goldfinger?

Wonder what other films could be remadeand how they would be changed? Would anyone dare touch The African Queen, Citizen Kane, Gone With the Wind, or The Godfather?

I watched the first Murderbot on Apple. I was disappointed but I seem to be in a minority. I never heard/saw Murderbot as a male, and the character’s dry disparaging humor seems to be absent. Well, IMO.

2

Sunda’s Theme Music

Rain took its drops and went elsewhere. Though clouds stayed, sunshine rushed in. A swirly, restless day was had. Hot in direct sun, chilly in shadow when the wind played. We did see 66 F at our house. Now it’s dropping, expecting to stoop to the 40s overnight. Tomorrow, we’ll do it again.

For the record, this is Sunda, Mai 18, 2025.

I’ve been busy all day. This was the culmination of a cleaning project. Ashlandia and Recology were taking in trash and electronics free of charge this weekend at the transfer station. This inspired my wife and I to declare we’ll do some cleanup and rid ourselves of unused and broken old items. Beginning Twosda, I pulled, cleaned, inspected, and decided on what to do with stuff which we’d accumulated and didn’t seem to be using. I consulted with my wife as necessary. Like, we have three big boxes of china. It’s a formal dinnerware setting for twelve, acquired in Germany over a period fro 1988 to 1991. We’ve probably used them a half dozen times, and not any time in the last decade. Much of it was awarded to me as prizes in monthly, quarterly, and annual competitions at a base or specific units. Mikasa was one of the sponsors and would often give gift certificates. My wife used ones I won to buy china. No, we didn’t pitch the china. We put it aside to give to a friend who will take it to a charity boutique. A few times a year they have a big sale and include things like china. Proceeds help offset people’s cost for hospice.

My wife’s health kept her sidelined during Operation Cleanup. But I enjoyed the solitary work. While I put in a couple hours every day after writing, today was the load up and drop off. The SUV was backed up and configured. Loading began at 10:15. By 11:30, I was ready for the dump trip. I hit the line at 11:45 and inched the vehicle to the gate at 12:30. They directed me to trash and electronics, which covered my contributions. By 1 PM, I was back home.

Then I cleaned clean the car and reconfigured its seating and all that, and cleaned the garage and rearranged things to be more organized and take advantage of the cleared space. I just finished that at 6 PM. I sweated a few buckets today, and my feet are singing about their unhappiness like a bunch of hounds with the blues. I’m taking advantage of this time to post before I make my dinner.

Today’s song turned out to be “On A Carousel” by the Hollies. They released it in the 1960s. It’s a song about love and the up and down ride you’re on when you’re in love. I was using it to think about Trump. We’re going around and around with him as he whines about the judicial system and courts, ignores the Constitution, threatens anyone who disagrees with him, and then acts like an idiot who mated a jackass. Guess that would be a idioass or a jackiot. Did you hear about him and his video where he’s supposed to be playing “Don’t Stop Believin'” by Journey in concert? His connections with reality frays more every hour. His supporters don’s seem much better. Guess they’re holding on to their dreams.

Time to call it. Hope you had a good one. Cheers

0

PINs & Passwords

PINs and passwords are integral to first world life. Friends and I discussed how we manage our passwords and PINs. All that caused me to think and smile.

There’s an article out there about ‘things our children wouldn’t know about’ because whatever it was is now obsolete. Telephone party lines, rolodexes, TV ‘rabbit ears’ and outdoor antennas, carbon copy or carbon paper, and those sort of things. I was thinking of the reverse mode, and how astonished our children might be that we had no PINs and passwords when I was growing up in the 1950s to mid-1970s. We never had to figure out and remember a magical combination of letters, numbers and ‘special characters’ to get in and out of our online accounts. Number one, we didn’t have online accounts. We lacked the Internet and home computers. Now, there’s a PIN to learn to use a bathroom. Another PIN to access my voice mail. A different PIN to use my credit card, depending on the card reader, and to withdraw money.

I wonder, though, how many years it’ll be until the next generation is amused with our tales of PINs & Passwords and our explanations for how they were used.

4

A Prime Update

I posted this morning about last night’s problem accessing and viewing streaming television via Prime on my Roku. Yes, and I uninstalled and re-installed, and researched.

‘lo, I came home and acted on a whim to see if Prime now worked.

Yep.

They — Roku, Prime, or others — fixed something last night. All that I did was probably for naught. If I had more patience, it probably would have resolved itself today. But I couldn’t resist trying to fix it.

In the Air Force, we used to refer to problems like these on our C130s as a Lockheed fix. That’s a problem that ‘seems’ to take care of itself. After, you know, we worry about it for a while.

1

Saturda’s Theme Music

Once again, it’s Mai 17, 2025. This time, it’s Saturda. It was a rainy night and a drenched morning in Ashlandia. Irritated me a bit. What’s new? I’m often irritated. In this instance, I’ve been cleaning the garage and had stuff outside and was out of time/energy/daylight. So I asked Alexa, “Will it rain?” They responded with comments about clouds and temperatures. My wife and I asked the machine point blank three times. Same answer each time.

Two hours later, Alexa has a notification for me: it’s going to rain soon. Like, WTF? Shoes and suitable clothes donned, I went outside to rearrange things and cover them with tarps. Yes, I was irritated.

It’s warmer and sunny now, but don’t look for too much heat in Ashlandia today. 55 F and cloudy, the high end of the scale will read 61 before it starts dropping again.

Meantime, when I went to relax with some streaming last night, Prime was no longer available. That WTF moment led to a WTF hour of testing, uninstalling, re-installing, researching, etc. Nothing fixed it, and I could not find information about a greater trend or problem among the masses. No, it seemed to be me alone. No, I could not fix it. Several background pieces: I used Roku to stream television in several rooms. Prime was received fine on those Rokus. Yes, Roku was updated. Yes, the Prime app was updated. Yes, the Internet connection was solid. No, an outage for Prime wasn’t reported. Yes, I rebooted the system. Yes, I uninstalled and reinstalled Prime. Many others have been through this fiasco in the past. Most report nothing worked but the system mysteriously and abruptly returned to normal on its own. I’ll see if that’s the case with us later today. I recognize that this is basically first world blues.

Several songs challenged for supremacy in the morning mental music stream. First, another blogger wrote about a song Connie Francis sang. That inspired The Neurons to shift another Connie Francis song, “Stupid Cupid”, from 1959, into the morning mental music stream. I was three when it came out but Mom played it regularly on her stereo, so I knew it pretty well.

Next, inexplicably, The Neurons introduced “I’m Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter“, a song which was released the year before Mom was born. It’s been covered by so many singers and acts. The Neurons sampled several before settling on an old favorite by Willy Nelson.

Dropping into the day’s rhythm, though, reading the news, I ended up with Teddy Swims performing “Bad Dreams”. That song was raised because of Trumpgames. PINO Trump is warning a business, Walmart’s, not to pass on the costs to consumers. “President Donald Trump warned Walmart on Saturday against raising its prices, writing on Truth Social that he will “be watching.” Because, you know, Trump knows that high prices are bad for business, but they’re worse for him because he triggered this unneeded trade war. So his solution to higher prices is to tell corporations to tell their shareholders and employees to tighten their belts for the good of Donald Trump. That’s what it comes down to. He raised the prices and he doesn’t want to face the consequences for what he’s done. As always, he wants to dodge the truth and avoid responsibility. It’s one of his standard routines. It’ll be interesting to see what happens with Walmart and their prices, given that Walmart and the Walton family, support Trump and the GOP.

Two, of course, Trump’s warning contradicts how he sold tariffs as a tax which other countries paid.

From September of 2024 comes this reminder: Fact check: Trump and Vance keep falsely describing how tariffs work.

Trump has falsely, and repeatedly, claimed that China – not US importers – pay the tariff.

At a rally in Arizona in mid-August, he claimed that Vice President Kamala Harris, his Democratic opponent, is lying when she refers to his tariff plan as a “Trump tax.”

“She is a liar. She makes up crap … I am going to put tariffs on other countries coming into our country, and that has nothing to do with taxes to us. That is a tax on another country,” Trump said.

So riddle me this, PINO Trump and MAGA: if another country pays the tariff, why is PINO Trump warning Walmart not to raise prices to cover the tariffs?

Well, we know why. It was Trump lying when he accused Vice-President Harris of lying. That is his way.

The other aspect of Trump’s recent craziness is his roll on the new “F55 fighter.” He mentioned the aircraft during talks in Qatar. As with many things Trump says, this is from another reality. No one else was aware of a proposed “F55”. Nor did anyone know about the F22 Super which Trump referenced. Yes, it’s all bad dreams when leaders skid off into surreal rants about things which don’t exist. Trump does so often. That’s why it’s rich bad dreams materials. Who know what the nutter will say next? What was pretty funny was how right-wing leaning media sources touted this as absolutely true, despite baffled defense industry experts. They either never learn, or these media sites are actively promoting lies as facts in order to support Trump. Yeah, no shit, right?

Here we go: Teddy Swims with “Bad Dreams” from 2024.

I’ve cozied up to a cuppa coffee once again. Time to rock and roll, kids. Cheers

0

Fun Dream

There I was, trapped like a hunted animal, weapon in hand, growling in my throat as I firmed my spirit and mind to fight back.

Naw, it wasn’t anything like that. I was there to play a game. Don’t ask me what the game was; the dream assumed I knew that. There were four to a side. A female teammate and I were waiting to take the field. We were on a platform overlooking the game space. That space wasn’t large.

Besides us on that platform was a younger person, a black-haired white woman. She was part of the team we were playing next. She wordlessly walked between my teammate and me and moved to a corner where she stopped, leaning back against the railing. I knew of her but I didn’t know her. We’d previously played.

Crossing to her, I said, “Listen, I hope I didn’t hurt you before.” Yes, apparently during a previous game, I’d blocked her pretty roughly. “The move went awry and wasn’t executed as well as it could have been.”

Suddenly brightening, she answered, “Oh, no, it’s all good. That was pretty bang, bang. There’s not much we can do when the game is on, and you were in a zone. You played fantastic. I can’t fault you for anything.”

Her response surprised me. We chatted. My teammate joined in. We all became friendlier. Then we were called to play.

I was guarding my new friend, aggressively tracking her. She had the ball, which was round and brown like a basketball. She could bounce or carry it but could only be the one with the ball for a limited time, which a red-numbered timer tracked. As I harried her, blocking her moves, she threw the ball right to me.

This excited fans and the announcer. I hadn’t noticed either before this. A roar went up. The announcer shouted, “She threw the ball right to him! She threw the ball right to him!” My opponent was upset but regained her poise to come after me.

Seeing an opening, I passed the ball to a of teammates who were in scoring position. Incredibly, the guy who was supposed to catch it and pass it on bobbled the ball. Now it was my turn for disappointment and frustration.

Unfortunately, that’s where the dream ended.

0

Fleece Me Up,Scottie

My oldest item on me would usually be my underwear or socks. My wife shamed me into buying new underwear.

“What would your mother say about this?” My wife was holding up a pair of my boxers.

“I always wear clean underwear,” I answered. “That’s all Mom worried about.”

My wife put fingers through holes. “She wouldn’t be bothered by these holes?”

“It’s enough material. Come on, it’s underwear.”

After pressure like that, I examined my undies with a more critical eye. Sure the elastic wouldn’t hold them up any longer. And parts of them were as sheer as honeymoon negligee. Yes, my wife had a point. The underwear was purchased before we moved here. That was in 2005. I think I had them before we moved to Half Moon Bay, in 1999. So new boxers were purchased. It wasn’t easy. Materials have changed, etc. That’s a whole different tale.

As for my socks, I now wear *shudder* compression socks. Every friggin’ day. They are not old.

We come at last to the oldest thing on me: my gray pullover fleece. It’s a quarter zip. I purchased it for $20 in May of 2001 at the Stanford Shopping Center. I know these details because Mom was visiting and I was starting a new job at another startup, Internet Security Systems.

My wife and I had been married over 25 years then. Mom had never visited us at any of our homes. True, she lived in Pittsburgh, PA, and we’d never lived closer than 300 miles. That was with our first duty assignment at Wright-Patterson AFB, just outside of Dayton, Ohio. For eight of those years of marriage, we were outside of the United States. And on three more years, I was alone overseas.

So, I bought a ticket for Mom, and she was there. She took a photo of our black cat, a long-haired rescue we’d named Sammy. Sammy had been left behind on military base housing. We took him in and discovered that he was a beautiful, sweet, intelligent kitty. Mom happened to take a photo of him while he was on the patio enjoying sunshine. She spent a week with us and then went home. Two days later, we rushed Sammy to the vet, where he died, cause unknown. I was wearing my gray fleece that day.

That big old cat loved that fleece. He liked to climb inside it while I was wearing it. Nestling against my belly and completely out of sight, he’d purr himself to sleep. Then he’d start snoring. My wife always laughed because it was like my belly was snoring. In an aside, a few years later, we moved again. Another rescue cat joined our household. Like Sammy, she liked crawling up under the fleece, curling up against me to nap inside my garment, while it was on me. I think Sammy would have approved.

I always remember Sammy when I don this old fleece. Even if it’s for doing yard work, as it was today. And when I do, I always smile.

2

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑