Logging In
I had to go ‘incognito mode’ and log into Gmail. Don’t ask.
I give it my identification. My password.
Okay, my computer tells me. “Go to you phone and click on the link texted to you so we know it’s you.”
I did so.
The computer showed me three numbers in circles. “Now,” it said, “click on the number that corresponds with the number shown on your phone.”
I did so.
“Now,” the computer said. “Hop up and down on your left foot three times and bow to your right.”
I did so.
“Now,” the computer said, “Say Rumpelstiltskin is my name.”
I did so.
I was finally able to log in.
Seriously, I did it all until the hopping part. But I don’t think that’s too far off in the future.
Wednesday’s Theme Music
Florence, Oregon — Wednesday, May 20, 2026.
To clarify, we’re actually staying at Heceta Beach, 3 miles north of Florence. Heard from the catsitter. Papi has adjusted to her presence and her feeding him, and is basically acting just as if we’re there.
It’s 60 F now, on its way to 63 F. Here’s this morning beach photo.
We’ve had wonderful, fresh, tasty food everywhere we’ve eaten, and have only met nice folks. Hope to hell I’m not jinxing this by mentioning it.
Yesterday was a bad day for Mom and my sister Gina, Mom’s defacto caregiver. Mom had another UTI, was complaining of dizziness and headaches. Gina took her to urgent care. They said Mom’s UTI isn’t responding to antibiotics and needs something stronger and had Gina take her to a hospital, UPMC East. Well, that was an eight hour ordeal for them, with miscommunication between the two care facilities.
Mom was back into her room around midnight. Gina was shocked at its state; disorganized and messy. Very un-Mom. Mom denies her dizziness is a problem but Gina said she complained about it multiple times. XRays and CT Scans showed nothing.
Gina is also frustrating because the other sisters are ‘too busy’ to help with Mom. She ended up transferring Mom from car to wheelchair to bed, and back, etc, eighteen times yesterday.
Poor Mom. Poor Gina.
This is life.
Haven’t looked at the news this morning. Don’t want to disrupt the vacay vibe by doing that before I’ve had my daily wine and beer. I mean, coffee. Yeah, that’s what I meant.
I did see that Trump’s Iran War is not over. The price of gas is shocking here. Diesel prices are almost at $7 a gallon.
Trump mocked that as ‘peanuts’. He insists he’s a man on a mission to stop Iran from having nuclear weapons, no matter how much pain it cause US citizens and the world. Sure; we believe that. It’s all just part of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!
Today’s song is “Boys of Summer”. Written by Mike Campbell, a guitarist who played and wrote with Tom Petty, Petty turned the song down. Don Henley took it and had a hit in 1984.
The Neurons put it in the morning mental music stream because several times, I looked out at the beach and saw, “Nobody on the beach.” Recognizing the line from the song, I suppose Les Neurons thought I was trying to remember it.
I hope your day progresses in a satisfying way. I find that coffee helps, along with staying well hydrated with other fluids.
Off to begin Operation Epic Eat Breakfast.
Cheers
What A Deal
I read about the deal between Trump’s DOJ and Trump’s IRS that Trump will drop his lawsuit against the IRS in exchange for immunity from audits.
What absolute crap.
How very un-American. So contrary to the ideals of freedom and equal, a democracy where we all answer to the law of the land.
I vaguely wondered and researched if there had ever been a precedence for this. I also wondered what Constitution originalists would have to say about it. They’re always touting what they think the founders were thinking when the government was established, talking about intentions. How will they reconcile this ‘deal’ with the founders’ intentions?
Trump is acting like a king, giving himself royal prerogatives about how the government will treat him and his crimes.
The reactions are about what we’d expect. MAGA supporters are pleased that Trump is beating the ‘deep state’. Sorry, but I’m not linking to any of those subjects.
These things are happening while Trump pretends to celebrate the 250-year anniversary of the nation he’s undermining and the policies and norms he’s betraying. It’s such a slap in the face to We the People. More troubling is that most of the Republican version of We the People are so willing to be complicit in this travesty.
A ‘modified’ Trump Quote of the Day for you:
Fascinating how the truth is encoded Trump when he projects as he does, isn’t it? It’s one of the few times he tells the truth.
Let’s say it again: no kings. Not in 1776.
Not 250 years later.
At the Goodwill
My wife and I are on the Oregon coast. We ate a wonderful fresh breakfast at the Fresh Harvest Cafe. Then we hit the local Goodwill.
My wife enjoys visiting Goodwill stores. She likes bargains and she likes re-using things. She did say today, “I’m not buying anything new. I’m death cleaning so whenever I see something I want, I just tell myself, ‘You’ll just have to throw it out.'” Books are the exceptions. We bought four, two for each of us.
Killing time, I wander the store and write a short story in my head. It’s about a future Goodwill. Dystopian situation. A guy ransacks an unused house. There’s a lot of them. Finding a cache of shot glasses, he brings them to the Goodwill. They give him a small bag of peanuts for them. He sits outside in the sunshine, savoring every nut as he eats them.
My sister texted me about her grandson’s birthday. He’s already fifteen, thoroughly discombobulating my brain, which still thinks of him as much younger. His mother is still a teenager in my thoughts. To see that he’s now a teenager is too much. I do the slow math; I was fifty-five when he was born. Time, you know?
Sis tells me that her grandson went to an Escape Room for his birthday. Muses gather in my head to conceptualize fiction about Escape Rooms.
Sis interrupts with a text abut Mom. She’s taken Mom to Urgent Care for another suspected UTI. Mom complains about dizziness as she Mom gets in and out of her wheelchair and the car.
Browsing Goodwill shelves, I see things which might be in my home. I go through an aisle of tools and imagine my tools in there.
I believe I have seen the future.
Leaving the building, I breath in fresh air and smile at the sunshine on my face.
Tuesday’s Theme Music
Florence, Oregon coast — Tuesday, May 19, 2026.
Catsitter called to say all is well with Papi. He was sort of quizzical about his morning routine, looking around for us, not really ready to eat at first but then gave in and chowed down.
Yes, we’re still at the coast. Another day, another photo.
Temperature is 58 F for the record, not far off of the expected high of 63 F. Tide is out. It was waayyy low earlier this morning.
Other than thinking about Trump and growling about what he’s done so far, I’m not paying much attention to the news. Saw there was another shooting, along with the usual responses from the usual suspects.
It was striking to see how many police cars mobilized to the shooting site in San Diego. We could save so many lives and need far less resources like this if we’d take a sensible approach to gun ownership. Someday, someday, someday…
For music, The Neurons went with “Margaritaville.” This is a Jimmy Buffett song. The Neurons fed it to the morning mental music stream as I cruised the sand. The surf’s sound pounded my ears and the wave play was fantastic. Soooo refreshing. I had a cuppa coffee in my hand as I walked… Well, truth: I had a four shot Americano as I walked. Good stuff. *smile*
Hope you day goes as well as mine, and that our days together will grow brighter, better, and healthier.
The Pacific said to say, “Hello.’
Cheers
The Day
We hit the road at 10:10. Interstate 5 North. Good sunny travel weather, moderately heavy traffic.
A gas stop at Costco in Roseburg returned us to a full tank. Back onto I5 N for a few more miles, leaving it at Sutherlin, now going west through the mountains, to the coast. We entered Florence at 2 PM.
Neither of us had commented on the lack of RVs and travel trailers on the road. They’re usually good for slowing our progress to a snail’s stroll. The rule of the car is, don’t notice something good out loud, or you’ll jinx us.
Lunch was done at a Florence favorite, Traveler’s Cove. After a walk through town, we headed to our hotel. The Driftwood Shores Resort and Conference Center offers okay accommodations. We like it because you’re right on the Pacific Ocean and all the rooms face the beach. We were there for ocean, dude. It’s the waves.
I unpacked my clothes. Set up my toiletry. Arranged my shoes. Hung stuff up and put things into drawers. My wife sat and read her book while I was doing this. This is one of our major differences: I always unpack, like I’m living there. She leaves everything in her suitcase, pulling it out as needed.
We walked the beach, gritting our teeth against a stiff sea breeze. The sun was unblocked by anything, and the waves were strenuous, constantly pounding, noisy but soothing.
Back in the room, I opened a bottle of red wine, poured a glass and watched the waves until, finally, some piece of me whispered, “Let’s go see what’s happening on the Internet.”
So here I am, watching the waves, typing, reading, sipping wine.
Monday’s Theme Music
Ashland, southern Oregon — Monday, May 18, 2026
Our weather here is chilly but the sky is clear. It’s 44 F but expected to jump to 70 F.
Meanwhile, we’re on the road, heading to the coast. Our friend has just arrived to take up residence with Papi. Her house has work going on so this worked out well for us.
Off we go. Meanwhile, the music in my morning mental music stream is “25 or 6 to 4” by Chicago. It’s in the stream because of the line, “Should I try to do some more?” I was doing something earlier and asked that aloud to Papi. While he was indifferent to the question, The Neurons plucked Chicago out of memory and began playing the 1970 classic rock staple.
I enjoyed watching the video because I dressed just like Terry Kahn on lead guitar back in those days. *smile*. Hair was long like that, too, but bushier. *another smile*
Hope your travels take you to happy places, whether it’s down the road, in your writing or thinking, or just through your house.
Coffee is in hand. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 