Sundaz Theme Music
White frost inks the grass and bare mulch. Sunda, 23 November 2025, is seeing another morning of fog and a temp of 32 F. Walking around yesterday, a distinct wintry essence infiltrated the air. Snow felt imminent. But now sunshine is spreading, lighting up a blue sky. The temperature has crept up to 39 F. 66 F is possible before night takes it all down again.
Today’s song is “Sunshine”, a 1971 Jonathan Edwards song. Though I know the lyrics and melody well, I looked up the song writer and performer. I haven’t heard the song in years that I know. It overwhelmed the morning mental music stream, introduced in there by The Neurons when I happened to look out a window and say, “Look, sunshine!” That’s how Der Neurons roll.
The song’s lyrics always intrigue me. It seems like a song of defiance and hope mixing it up with grumbling, determination, and impulsiveness.
Sunshine, go away today
Don’t feel much like dancin’
Some man’s gone, he tried to run my life
He don’t know what he’s askin’
Well, he tells me I better get in line
I can’t hear what he’s sayin’
When I grow up, I’m gonna make it mine
These ain’t dues that I’ve been payin’
How much does it cost? I’ll buy it
Time is all we’ve lost, I’ll try it
He can’t even run his own life
Be damned if he’ll run mine
How much does it cost? I’ll buy it
Time is all we’ve lost, I’ll try it
He can’t even run his own life
Be damned if he’ll run mine
Working starts to make me wonder where
All that I do is going
He says in love and war all is fair
He’s got cards that he ain’t showing
How much does it cost? I’ll buy it
Time is all we’ve lost, I’ll try it
He can’t even run his own life
Be damned if he’ll run mine
Sunshine, come on back another day
I promise you I’ll be singing
This old world, she’s gonna turn around
Brand new bells’ll be ringing
Songwriters: Rodney Jerkins, Lashawn Daniels, Leendert Bolier, Cheryl Elizabeth Gamble, Johan Jacobse, Freddie D Iii Jerkins, Frederik D Freek Geuze.
We’re mock laughing in our household about brave Marjorie Taylor Greene. Oh, she’s resigning from Congress…in January, after her retirement benefits are won. What a deal! That will let this former MAGA star suckle off the public for the rest of her life. She also made a ton o’ cash with stock trading during her years of public service. Meanwhile, she’ll probably plop into some fat gig as media star commenting on current events, and we’ll be stuck with her for years as she pops up, trying to be relevant and insightful. Meanwhile, whenever she speaks, someone will say, “MTG is still alive? I thought she died years ago.”
Public service. Pays well for some, working for We the People. Just ask Trump. He’s certainly doing well, financially, as he craters the nation, starves people, and struts around bleating about how great he is, backing up his assertions with outright lies. Word is, it’s catching up with him, judging from polls and confidence indexes. As he crows about how popular he is, the number of people saying they disapprove of him, his regime, the economy, and the nation’s direction, are all climbing.
Peace and grace haven’t answered my invite. Hope they answer yours and show for us soon. Meanwhile, pour a cuppa and sit, read the news, think and sigh. Here we go. Cheers
Satyrdaz Wandering Thoughts
“My name is Brenda,” I said, with a touch of happy humor.
My current coffee haunt is RoCo. The local Food Co-Op owns RoCo. Members of the co-op, we get a dividend back from the co-op at the year’s end. And guess what? All you need to do is give the RoCo barista your name and number. That’s what I was doing.
“Is Brenda your wife, Michael?” Kat asked.
“Yes.” I released a small scoff. “The funny thing is, she doesn’t go by Brenda. She uses a name that she made up a long time ago, so it always makes us laugh when we reveal our account name.”
Kat grinned through the entire tale. “I like that.”
It’s the small things which give us spirit, innit?
Satyrdaz Theme Music
They tell us that it’s foggy out there. I’m looking out the windows and all I see are blue skies and sunshine to beat the band. It’s 32 F degrees, ’bout the same as yestidaz temperature at this time but it doesn’t feel nearly so cold on account of the plentiful sunshine headin’ our way. That’s how it is today, Satyrda, November 22, 2025, in Ashlandia of southern Oregon, or SO, as we call it. BTW, the high temp for SO will be in the low 60s. Maybe.
Brekkie has been done up and served but while I was doing it, I regarded my wife’s early Friendsgiving Day preparations. They reminded me that Thanksgiving is this coming Thirstda in ‘Merica. That kind of thinking led to The Neurons offering of the song called “Alice’s Restaurant”. Other than that refrain and the song’s object being about a visit to Alice one Thanksgiving and how it came to change Arlo Guthrie’s life as told via the tale of a massacree, there’s not much about Alice’s Restaurant in the lyrics. I listened to them all this morning, smiling in memory of hearing it other times, chuckling at the turn of phrases and events. A good way to waste time while sipping a fresh coffee, and a fine antidote to the trumplusional world we’re facing on this Satyrda.
I read today about how Trump denied what he said he said. Typical Dizzy Don, using terms he doesn’t understand, throwing them about, shouting about killing others, and then pretending that he’d not said all of that, and that his toadies hadn’t repeated much of it.
Trump says he wasn’t threatening lawmakers with posts about ‘seditious behavior’
“These are people that, in my opinion, broke the law,” Trump said. “Now what happens to them, I can’t tell you. But they broke the law. That is a terrible statement. I can say that if I ever said that and there were a Democrat as president, all hell would have broken loose.”
I don’t think much of Lame Donny’s opinion. Too many of his opinions are built on thoughts with less substance than air vapor. Of course, those Democrats didn’t break any law, but as a person who regularly breaks laws and has been convicted of doing so, Dozy Donny wouldn’t know what the law is if it bit him in the ass. Remember, this burning match of intelligence is the one who wasn’t sure if he was supposed to obey the Constitution.
Trump, asked if he has to ‘uphold the Constitution,’ says, ‘I don’t know’
By the time Dumb Donny answered that question, he’d been sworn into office twice. An adult American, supposedly a graduate of accredited school systems, Dim Donny couldn’t answer a question which most high schoolers would get right.
My eyes are rolling and my head is shaking as I think and type that.
Anyway…
Though it’s sunny and clear, peace and grace are nowhere to be seen. Hope they show, hope they show. Back to the coffee and on into the day we go. Cheers
Fridaz Wandering Thoughts
Mom and sis are coping and adjusting, per usual. Mom is an interesting case. When she’s doing well, she’s happy on her own. When she’s doing poorly, she gets crabby and wants visitors. But her crabbiness repels people, so they stay away. Not a good dynamic.
So many things must be tended for Mom. The emptying and cleaning of her house, of course, and then putting it on the market. Those are expected, straightforward, but work. The matters causing the most headaches and frustrations are these modern matters. Changing phone plans because Mom’s phone was on Frank’s plan. Canceling her internet and cable. Those things were done online, through passwords and account numbers and usernames and things like that. Mom has it written down but it’s all been changed so many times because they changed systems or the passwords expired, or it didn’t work for God knows why, as Mom would say.
Then there are the prescription drugs. Sam’s Club is Mom’s pharmacy. Frank was her delivery system. Now sis is her delivery system, but sis doesn’t have the time to make regular runs like Frank did. These things can be delivered but the co-pay must be paid for. Does Mom have a credit card on file? Yes, she does, she says, no, you don’t, the pharmacy replies. Back and forth they go, driving sis insane.
It all makes me think. Mom is but twenty years older than me, and the way my health is trending…LOL. I think, I must be better prepared. Sure, passwords are written down and secured but they must be found by whoever is taking care of me at that point.
Maybe it’ll be AI or a bot assisting me by that point. A Medibot. Watching AI and bots in action at this stage, though, I’m not reassured. Maybe, maybe, they’ll have it worked out in twenty years.
Time will tell. Always does, doesn’t it?
Mom’s Lament
I know it’s written down
It just must be found
I put it here somewhere
But you know it could be anywhere
I go through this everyday
Looking for things in the wrong place
Searching high and low as they say
Different day but the same ol’ thing
If I ever find it, I’ll tell you what I’ll do
Wait, what was I looking for?
I haven’t got a clue.
Fridaz Theme Music
Here comes the fog, do do do do do. Yes, ’tis a foggy Frida, November 21, 2025. Temp is hanging on to 33 F but we expect a rise to 52 F. Then we’ll be smokin’ with gas. Or something.
Political and economic news just seems to get worse. Trump and his regime continue to amaze with how low into the muck they’ll lower themselves. Trump is setting another deadline for Putin and Russia. I believe Putin will skip by that. Tell me if you think otherwise. Far as I can see, Putin continually games Trump because Trump has weakened the United States and its military alliances by his dumbfuckery. Putin knows that. He’ll be all smiley and sweet to Trump’s face but knows that Trump is a bully and a coward and shies away from real confrontation. Yet, Dizzy Donny, in his altered world, considers himself, brave, strong, powerful, smart. So trumplusional. That’s a level of delusion when the truth can’t be acknowledged even when it slams into your face and breaks your nose and cheekbones.
Today’s music comes from Sublime. It seems fog related. That’s my guess. My evidence is that I was looking out the window and remarking to myself about how the fog reduces visibility to the point that it feels and looks like we’re on an island. At around that point, The Neurons turned “Badfish” on in the morning mental music stream, starting with the line, “Won’t somebody get me off of this reef?”
Grace and peace might be out there, hidden in the fog. Or not. Not out there, I mean. Hope they come soon. Meanwhile, yes, coffee. Strong, black, as pure as it can be made with modern processes. Say no more. Here we go, once more into the breach. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 