Ain’t much to add. Go to the site, enjoy the music. Cheers
The Net Speaks on the 4th!
Happy 4th!
Saturday’s Theme Music – Looking back
Ashland, southern Oregon — Saturday, July 4, 2026.
Today is Independence Day in the US, another bright day in my valley, destined to be 90 plus degrees F.
Fireworks aren’t permitted in Ashland. They are allowed in our county, so there’s a storm going on about buying fireworks right outside of city limits. People then come in and set them off.
I’m one of those against fireworks. We’re in the middle of a drought, and they terrorize animals and some people. Each year, I bring my cats in and ensure they’re in a safe place. Papi heads to the darkest and most secure space, the walk-in closet in our bedroom.
I understand that people like the colors and noises. We have other tech that can be subbed for this ancient technology. I know, though, that change is slow around traditions like these.
For me, Independence Day has a very special meaning. I met my wife just a short week before the holiday. I was fifteen and she was fourteen. My father, then in the Air Force, was stationed at DESC, just outside of Wright-Patterson AFB in Ohio. I went to live with him after some run-ins with my stepfather.
Dad and my future father-in-law were good friends. Dad worked for him part time years before when stationed at Wright-Pat, trying to make extra money. When Dad returned after assignments in Vietnam, Germany, Iceland, and Turkey, they renewed their friendship.
I met my FIL, Jim, in May that year, 1971, on a fishing/camping trip. Then I met his wife and daughters in June. That was just a short drop by, though. It was on July 4th that my wife and I ‘really’ met.
Dad had given me an old watch after he bought a new one. I wore that all the time. Back when I met her and my wife and I were getting to know one another on July 4th, she asked me about my birthday. As it happens, it’s on July 5th.
My wife asked if she could see my watch. Then she refused to return it. She waited until after the fireworks. She waited until midnight. Then she presented my watch as a gift and told me, “Happy birthday.”
I lost the watch a long time ago, but I cherish her and the memory.
Today’s song is “Tiny Dancer” by Elton John. For the last twenty plus years while living in Ashland, we go to a friend’s house along the parade route to watch our town’s 4th of July parade. It’s a brunch potluck. Our host used to be our neighbor across the street here; when her husband passed away over a dozen years ago, she moved into a small cottage behind her daughter’s house. It’s our daughter’s house where we and about fifty other people congregate and celebrate.
Our host, though, is Barb, the neighbor from across the street, a sweet and charming but small 96-year-old woman. Her husband told me that he met his wife when she was a teenager. She was studying dance, already in college, and he was at college and walking, when he saw her alone on the bridge, dancing, late on afternoon. He didn’t know who she was but he knew he wanted to know her. Since hearing that story, I often call Barb “Tiny Dancer”. And that’s why the song is in the morning mental music stream.
I have you have a wonderful day, whether you’re celebrating the holiday in the US or elsewhere, or just enjoying life in another nation. I hope it gives you memories that make you smile, and comes with memories about what happened before, and full of people who help make your life a better place.
Cheers
Friday’s Theme Music – Pretending
Ashland, southern Oregon — Friday, July 3, 2026.
Hot is the word for today. 90 is our expected high. It’s sunny but windy, with a blue sky coping with several blue clouds.
It’s funny to me how Papi awakens me every morning at about 5:50. Today was a little later, 5:57. I wonder about the little clock in his head. More correctly, it seems to be a stomach alarm. “More food, please, hurry.” Which I do. Which he probably wouldn’t ask for if this habit hadn’t been established. Which came about with previous cats and my work schedule. Some things endure change. *smile*
I was looking at the area weather statistics for June. Although we ended on a cool streak, we were 2.5 degrees above average for the month. There were no days when we exactly hit the average.
My body, mind, and spirit feel very strong today. Thank you to everyone who took time to send me positive energy. Send it to others now more in need, please, as I’m doing good.
There’s no escaping Trump today. He’s encountered most days in this era, lying, gloating, boasting, mocking, demeaning. Too often, there’s an announcement accompanied by his smirking visage, and I just respond, ugh.
We have the terrible circumstances that a wealthy man interested only in himself ‘leading’ the government as we celebrate our nation’s beginnings. It feels like a low point. Yes, we’ve been polarized and demoralized before as a country. There have been scandals like Watergate, Contragate, Teapot Dome. There’s been crises like the Cuba Missiles Crises, and so many, many wars. Disasters were endured; pandemics. Assassinations. I didn’t live through many of these and rely on reports others made. I’m living through this, though, and I don’t like it.
What is funny is how fast and consistently MAGA pivots to cover Trump. They embrace his explanations and excuses, ignore his broken promises, and dismiss his lies and convictions in court as meaningless. As they depress me, I turn further and further away from their concerns…
In many ways, I think MAGAts are pretending that Trump speaks for them. They’re pretending that life under him is what they voted for and wanted. They pretend that he’s not misleading them, dismissing them, forgetting them as he grows wealthier and they often grow poorer. Weaker. Sicker.
The real question is, how will they feel when Trump is gone and their situation is not better for any of them except the wealthy? Who will they blame? Where will they turn?
As Trump is already ranked at or near the bottom of historic ratings, I believe that the Trump Era will gain a place in our nation’s history as a dark, low time.
With those of pretending populating my thoughts, The Neurons cranked up “Pretending” in the morning mental music stream. Eric Clapton wrote and recorded it but Jerry Lynn Williams wrote it. With lines like these, it feels right for this Trumpishly diminished day:
“How many times must we tell the tale? How many times must we fall? Living in lost memory you just recall.”
“That’s when I knew she was pretending. Pretending to understand.”
May you find joy and peace in your hours today, happiness in your night, and love in your heart.
Coffee is at hand again. Time to write. Cheers
Trump Prizes
I saw this post and kind of laughed today:
I distinctly remember other times when ‘survival’ was the prize during other times and researched to confirm I wasn’t making things up.
What is most interesting is that we went into ‘survival prizes’ whenever the nation was in a crisis, such as the 1973 Arab Oil Embargo and the 2008 recession.
We’re not supposed to be in a recession now or crisis now. Trump keeps telling us how great everything is.
Yet, economists such as Paul Krugman keep noting that people are talking about recession vibes, or ‘vibecessions’. The economy doesn’t have a ‘feel-good’ tone. Instead, what’s manifesting is a ‘feel-bad’ sense.
I have the feel-bad tingles. Although financially secure, whenever I shop for groceries these days, I experience shock about how much prices have gone up.
For instance, Ben & Jerry’s was my ice cream of choice for years. Actually, I was a froyo guy but I can no longer find it in local stores. I still look, though.
I used to get a pint of B&J froyo for under $3. We’re talking about fifteen years ago? This week, an Albertson’s was heralding a sale on B&J pints: almost $8 with a digital coupon.
I flipped. $8 for a pint of ice cream? Has the world gone insane?
It’s not all Trump, but he’s done us a lot of damages.
It started with his tariffs and his crazy insistence that We the People won’t be paying for them. Any who took basic high school history lessons knew that wasn’t true.
We see his damages when we look at the photos of the laughably cheap props created under his eye for the Great American State Farm and the empty fairgrounds. We see it when he shows us photos of tacky gold embellishments on the home of We the People.
We see it when we look at the mess Trump made of the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool, listening and watching as he squirms, trying to blame others for how it looks, denying what he did and its results.
We see it in the paved over historic Rose Garden and the destroyed White House East Wing. We heard it in the lies when Trump proclaimed it would cost us nothing.
He didn’t realize how much it already cost when we saw what he callously did to the property that belongs to We the People.
We hear it when Trump weaves one lie after another about why he ordered attacks on Iran, how long it would last, and what objectives he’d established and didn’t achieve.
We heard it when Trump talked about how much richer he is now after being back in the White House for over a year.
We felt it when Trump laughed and said, we’re all profiting because the stock market is up, exaggerating that it’s up 85%, because we knew that wasn’t true.
And we knew it when Trump said that he couldn’t fix inflation. We knew it when he said he didn’t care about affordability. We knew it when he said he was a peace president and began ordering attacks.
We knew it when Elon Musk and DOGE made wanton wholesale cuts to government programs established by the government through meticulous processes.
We knew it when Trump’s Congress cut subsidies to healthcare premiums. We knew it when Trump promised not to touch Medicare and then cut it in the monstrously ugly named, One Big Beautiful Bill.
We knew it when Trump’s budget was all about defense, setting a record high, telling us that we couldn’t afford childcare. We knew it when he directed that the United States build battleships, an obsolete weapon system. We knew it when Trump said it was a Trump-class battleship.
We knew it when Iran fought the US to a standstill and closed the Strait of Hormuz.
As we approach our celebration of 250 years as a nation, the feeling is not of being united and free. Nor is it a feeling of hope or patriotism.
Nor is there optimism.
It’s a feeling instead, that we’re in a mess. We’re fighting to extricate ourselves, but we’re torn about how to do it.
That’s the crises we now face, and why survival is now the prize.
Hilarious Trump News
If you need a little smile, read this piece from the Daily Beast.
Trump, 80, gets roasted by a hologram in pep talk gone wrong
An artificially-generated President Theodore Roosevelt managed to get in a few barbs at Donald Trump on Wednesday as the 80-year-old president sought to appropriate some of the 26th president’s glory.
After traveling to North Dakota alongside that state’s former governor, Interior Secretary Doug Burgum, to open Roosevelt’s presidential library, Trump was filmed interacting with an AI version of his predecessor, who had no choice but to talk to him.
~snip~
These are my favorite paragraphs. Teddy is responding to Trump after Trump talked about Teddy’s greatest achievement:
“The Panama Canal showed what America could achieve if we held steady and acted fast when the world dragged its feet. That said, I measure my greatest work by the lives improved, parks set aside, food and drugs made safe, the Square Deal given to all—not just to a few,” it told Trump, who has made sweeping budget cuts to the National Park Service.
The Trump administration has also made cuts to the Food and Drug Administration, which some critics argue will increase the chances of unsafe products being purchased.
Trump didn’t get it at all. Thinks he’s like Teddy and will go to his grave telling himself he is.
Like so many other nuances, it’s all beyond Trump.
Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts
Temperature is such a funny animal. 72 degrees inside in the winter and we sigh with comfort. So warm! How nice.
72 F inside in the summer — “Brrr, it feels a little chilly,” my wife complains.
Looking askance, I smile and move, catlike to a pool of sunshine streaming in through the window.
Michael Seidel, writer 