Category: cars

The Naha Dream

Another dream from last night found my wife and I arriving on an island – not deserted but civilized, part of a nation.

We were younger, in our thirties. Don’t know why we were there, but we were returning.

After disembarking from a red and white ferry, we found our car, got in, and began driving home. Leaving the port parking area, we were behind a small, old, Army-green bus. I knew that the driver – a man about my age – had been on the same boat as me, along with a group of quiet, sullen children.

Both of us drove over and parked at a little office to get cleared to go. I arrived there, went in, got my paper and got clearance.

Back in my car with my wife, we prepared to go on. Watching that slow-moving old green bus, I said, “Oh, no, don’t get in front of us.”

He did, pulling slowly onto the narrow, paved road. The road had a few potholes and high berms where the shoulders had crumbled and the dirt washed away. The green bus belched dark smoke.

I figured I was in for a long, slow trip behind that bus. My wife and I talked about the bus. But the bus pulled over to the right. Getting out of the bus, the driver waved us down.

He asked, “Do you know how to get to Naha?”

“Naha?” My wife and I were surprised, taken aback.

He continued on his own, explaining, “I’m going to go fishing there.”

I thought, fishing at Naha? “Yes,” my wife and I answered, talking at the same time. I took the lead. “Keep going on this road. There’s a intersection where you go right. There’s a brown sign that says ‘Naha’ on.”

“Is it a big sign?” he asked.

I laughed. “No, it’s one of those little military signs.” He looked military so I guessed he would understand that. “It’s brown but it’s by itself. You won’t miss it.”

He walked away and my wife and I drove on. “Fishing at Naha?” we said back and forth, wondering, is he taking the children to go fishing at Naha? We could think of better places to go but that was his business.

Dream end

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Trump Optimization: Breaking Down

I’ve been reflecting on Trump’s threats, lies, and broken promises.

I know that I’m on a loop with this. Partly blame my curiosity for checking the news each morning, a memory that pretty reliably reminds me of what happened in the past, and the constant news barrage about Trump. As POTUS, he and/or his administration are often suing and being sued. He keeps breaking political norms which served the nation well and does so on airy, fantasy fueled whims and desire for more power and control.

Yet, the power and control he exercises is often flawed and grows out of control. Trump consistently proves he’s a shallow thinker, with little thought or interest in collateral and secondary impact — unless they’re enriching him, or increasing his fame. His is a narrow spectrum of thought.

He makes and breaks promises with regularity that rivals the setting and rising sun. These are easily proven because of modern technology. We don’t need to pour over journals, records, ancient manuscripts, or dig through bones. Search engines verify them with a few fingerstrokes and clicks. Only those who are using his agenda to further their interests or those who want to willingly accept him as their golden leader pretends otherwise.

Trump is aware of his shortcomings on one level and tries to hide them or compensate. This has led to an ongoing, widening series of provocative declarations and impulsive actions which I lump under the umbrella of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! Trump counts on people being easily charmed by him. He counts on being able to menace and bully people through power and wealth. His strategy leans heavily on people having short memories, being too busy to pay attention, or lacking the mental faculties and critical thinking to parse what he’s done and their impact.

His strategy is working on a smaller and smaller percentage of people.

That makes Trump more dangerous, because as he flails, fades, and fails, he seeks greater confirmation that he’s powerful, beloved, in control, and that all is going great, and that all is going great is due to him, and his leadership. Now, desperate to remain in power because he knows the consequences of not being in control will be accountability, Trump is fighting hard to control the upcoming elections.

Screaming fraud and stolen elections for years, he’s never proven any of his claim. On the contrary, investigations show the voter fraud is impressively small.

Nevertheless, Trump has gone after every facet of voting that he can. The Constitution specifies that states handle the voting mechanism, including time, place, location. States also determine voter eligibility and register voters. They decide how the voters are legally handled and counted. This has been going on as nation for almost 250 years, and has been under almost constant scrutiny and improvement.

Trump, however, is trying to increase the Executive Branch’s direct control over how the states register people, let them vote, and count the votes. Beyond his usual executive decrees and flawed texts and speeches about voter fraud, Trump has employed Federal money to bribe and coerce the states. He’s trying to curtail how ballots are counted by limiting when they must be received and counted. Trump is going after the state voter rolls themselves. Some states are pushing back but too many, led by GOP governments, are rolling over to Trump’s demands like well-trained pets.

All of Trump’s actions align with the Unitary Executive Theory, which gives the president and executive branch more power while sidestepping Congressional input and authority, and curtailing the judiciary’s impact and influence. We the People speak primarily through our elected officials in Congress.

With the UET in place, our voice is effectively muted. Congress can pass laws and establish agencies and dictate what’s supposed to be done and how the mechanics of government is supposed to work, but if Trump decides, “No, that’s not what I want,” then he ignores all of those limitations and legal requirements and does as he desires.

Trump’s approach becomes bifurcated, then. His financial policies and blueprint typically favor himself and the wealthiest in our nation. However, he leans on his shrinking base and Project 2025 for support, which means he advances policies to reduce business oversight and regulations for all aspects of working and living in the US.

Right now, aided by the Roberts Court and a compliant GOP in Congress, the Trump administration is trying to consolidate power. It all reminds me of the ECU problem.

Back in the late last century, computers were introduced to cars to manage engines, something called the Electronic Control Module. With it in place, car engines were constantly monitored for knocks and performance. The ECU then adjusted different aspects — fuel/air mixture, timing, advance, etc. But sometimes, by rigidly focusing on fixing these things toward one optimal goal, they ended up stopping the car from running. Mechanics then had to tear it all apart and rebuild.

Likewise, the Soviet Union, through Gosplan and central planning. Yet, when the data didn’t match the expectations demanded or expected, data was falsified, classic Cover Your Ass behavior.

Sound familiar at all?

Trump tends to fire those who don’t give him the news he wants. This will remove him further and further from contact with what’s really going on. So, like that ECU, he’s trying to overoptimize the system to the point that it will be rigid and then break under its own mechanism.

The questions are, where will we be then, and how will we adjust?

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A Camaro Dream

I’d just signed a contract. Half of the money due me was paid and the other half would come later.

I was going next to visit my family. I decided I would surprise them. I bought four condos which were exactly the same, along with four 1968 Chevy Camaros, also exactly the same. Everything was in excellent condition. I can’t tell you what color the cars were, except they were immaculately polished and gleamed in the light.

I would be staying in one condo but I expected my sisters and Mom to stay in the other condos with their families. I would drive one Camaro; they would drive the rest.

Here it gets a little hazy. It’s about the keys. Whenever I got the keys for the cars or condos, there would be a green light.

I went to leave to meet with my sister, driving the Camaro I was giving her. First, I had to stop. There was unfinished business, leaves which needed to be moved away for Dad. I did most of those very fast, with the car door open and the engine running, then went off and picked up my sister and her son.

I told my sister to drive and told her the car was hers. She didn’t fully understand. I took her to the condos. Oddly, the three condos for the family were on one floor; my condo was alone, stacked on top of them.

I told my sister and nephew that this is where I’m staying and that it’s where I wanted them to stay as well. My sister worried about the expense. I kept telling her that I’d bought it and already paid for it.

Another sister arrived with her husband. I gave them the keys to their Camaro and showed them the four cars. They responded, “That’s nice.” I explained a few times that I was giving them the car. They finally got it and were shocked. My brother-in-law kept talking about the cars’ “mint condition”.

Other family arrived. Some young man from the condos came to help people with baggage. He asked, “Which condo is yours?” He seemed concerned about so many people staying in one condo.

I explained to him that I owned four of them but that I was giving three of them to my sisters and mother. I gave him the keys to their three condos. Catching on, he responded, “That cost a fortune.”

Mom was there, in her nurse’s uniform. She worried that she had to go to work. I kept telling her that she didn’t, but she was insistent.

It was raining, with light flooding. To go to work, Mom had to cross a muddy, swampy stream. I didn’t want her to cross because I didn’t think she would make it. But she went. As I watched, she fell into a hole and went underwater. I began rushing forward to help her but a large man showed up on the other side. Reaching down, he lifted Mom, drenched and covered with mud and weeds, and set her down on the other side.

Dream end.

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The MAGA Mind

I laughed. I had to.

Reports had come out: annual inflation was the highest in three years.

Americans are irritated. Worried. Bothered. Inflation has pushed up the costs of new homes, home repairs, car insurance, healthcare, health insurance premiums, food, and energy.

Trump said, “I love the inflation.”

Which is why I laughed.

It also makes total sense for Trump to say that.

Back when Trump started his war with Iran, he mentioned, “We’re not at war.” He often did it with a little sly week, instead referring to it variously as a conflict, operation, or excursion. Yet, he still used terms like dropping bombs and talked about destroying Iran.

MAGA, who loves Trump, immediately began parroting Trump’s language. So, the Iran ‘conflict’ is fine with them, because we’re not at war, and he didn’t break his promise, “No new wars.”

That’s why “I love inflation” makes sense now. They’ll hear Trump say that and begin using his phrase. They’ll get all gleeful and giddy about inflation — using Trump’s terminology, of course, about how inflation is good because we’re fighting Iran, and that’s some kind of good thing, in his head.

That makes it totally swell for MAGA.

For the rest of us in the real world, the inflation isn’t good and has serious repercussions on health, happiness, and the quality of life.

Also, making statements like, “I love inflation,” is part of Trump’s Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! distraction weave.

  • Look — I tore down the White House east wing! Building the biggest ballroom ever!
  • Look — I painted the Lincoln reflecting pool!
  • Look — I bombed Iran! Saved us all from nuclear annihilation!
  • Look — there’s election cheating going on in California!
  • Look — I love inflation! Isn’t that crazy?

As for the Iran War — what is it good for?

That depends on what day Trump is talking about it.

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Saturday’s Theme Music – Lies & Truths

Ashland, southern Oregon — Saturday, June 6, 2026.

It’s cloudy today in the valley. Same morning cool air, 50 F. We’ll sprint up to 64 F before the evening cooling begins again.

Quiet back east, in Pittsburgh. Nothing from Mom and my sisters for over sixteen hours. More showings are scheduled for Mom’s house, and more donations of clothing and furniture are being made.

I’m watching Trump’s Great American State Fair slowly imploding, along with his UFC fight. He makes it about him, and he makes it hateful and divisiveness. We the People, along with many artists and celebrities, respond, sorry, I’m not into those values, and I’m not that into you.

Trump takes that all personally. He spins fast to his favorite style of denigrating them. His America250 committee selected performers and artists presumably because they had some cachet, were known and successful acts, things like that.

Once they turn down the gig, Trump calls them all third-rate. If he’s right, then, only ‘third-rate’ acts agreed to his celebration and then even they turned him down. Which means, if I follow the thread right, means that Trump and his ‘celebration’ must be fourth-rate, or worse.

Trump’s war with Iran continues toward 100 days. Despite the cease-fire, there was more back and forth military strikes yesterday.

I don’t think Iran is interested in ending the war through negotiations. I wouldn’t, were I in their shoes. Trump’s war is disrupting political and military alliances and supply chains, causing increased prices. These then cause Trump’s popularity and effectiveness to decline.

With the US already polarized, there’s increased fragmentation as some of the GOP turns on Trump. The US is a mess, paralyzed by these politics and an ineffective Congress.

So why would Iran rush to end the war? Every day it goes on marginalizes Trump and the US. Trump has no cards. All he can do is threaten more violence. That violence comes with escalating costs to his image, ego, and human life. No, Trump doesn’t care about human life, but enough voters do that he’s feeling it.

Trump also pardoned another person.

Trump says he pardoned man sentenced to 7 years for ‘fixing his own truck’

Your Trump Lie — er, Quote — of the Day:

Trump butchered the truth and history. Someone commenting on it told the real story behind Trump’s claims:

“Troy Lake, the owner of Elite Diesel Service Inc. in Colorado, was sentenced to 12 months and one day in federal prison for conspiring to violate the Clean Air Act by disabling emissions monitoring systems on hundreds of heavy-duty commercial trucks. He also faced over $50,000 in combined fines. Lake served about seven months in federal prison before being released to house arrest to finish his sentence. Subsequently, President Donald Trump granted him a full, unconditional pardon, completely erasing his conviction and penalties.” NOT 7 YRS, NOT HIS OWN VEHICLE AND BREAKING THE LAW FOR HIS OWN PROFIT, much like Trump!“

Proving once again, Trump can’t be believed. Distrust and verify.

MAGA ate it up, though. That means a lot to Trump’s ego.

Gas prices are down, but the national average is $4.24. The high fuel prices are affecting Americans’ travel and leisure plans.

Today’s music is “Misguided Angel” by Cowboy Junkies. A novel I was reading referenced the song. Hadn’t heard it in a while so I pulled it up last night on Youtube and listened to it. Such a sweet, powerful song, about a woman in love with a guy who is not good for her because of his temperament. The singer is fearful of him yet stays with him because of love. It becomes about the courage needed for her to do that.

That’s the kind of truth art often shows us. That things are not black and white but are mired in complications. Love and emotion are often our greatest complications.

The Neurons liked it and it was still in my morning mental music stream today. So here it is.

May your Saturday proceed with peace and grace.

Cheers

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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.

The view from the room.

3

Tires & Food

We bought new tires for one of our vehicles yesterday.

I took a memory train back to the first time I bought new tires after I was married.

That would be 1975. The car was a 1968 Camaro. Sweet, small, fast car. RS, 327 V8, automatic. I bought it for $1100 after I arrived at my first permanent duty station in my Air Force career, Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, in Ohio. Paid cash.

I married later that year. My wife and I have wonderful memories of being together in that car.

Buying new tires for it was a major financial decision. Recaps were cheap, $20-$25 each, installed. But recaps? I distrusted their safety and reliability.

That meant new tires: $40 each.

$160.

Ouch.

We didn’t have credit cards, so we’d need to buy the tires with cash. I had that in savings but that would severely reduce the balance.

I remarked about this to my wife at dinner last night.

She remembered, adding, “Yes, the things we couldn’t afford then that we needed, and the things we buy now, that we really don’t need.”

I paid for the dinner with my credit card. Leaving, I thought, I could have bought two new tires for the price of that dinner.

Of course, I could have bought the Camaro for the price of the new tires I put on the car.

It’s all part of Einstein’s Theory of Relativity.

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The Mood in May

Time again to assess how the net feels about the state of the union under Trump.

As backdrop:

So much winning! Here we go.

8

The Chrome Car Dream

I had a dream which I can’t quite remember.

It involved a chrome sports car. The fragments I remember include a young me looking at the car. The car was very low and slick, chromium, more like a toy from Mattel’s Hot Wheels collection than a ‘real’ car.

In some scenes, I was designing it. Other times, I was making yet I also remember it being given to me, and I remember getting ready to drive it.

Throughout this, the background is dark, like a starless, moonless night.

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Cooperating

I drove down Siskiyou Boulevard under bright sunshine. Traffic was light. We traveled at 30 MPH, just over the speed limit.

The blue Subaru in the left hand’s right turn signal began blinking. The driver started over. Realizing that my car occupied the space, they veered back into their lane.

I dropped back to give them turning space. Seeing that, they completed their turn, and gave a big wave of thanks out the window.

Laughing, I waved back and headed on toward the coffee shop. That simple exchange gave me a shot of happy energy.

Things go so much better when we cooperate and don’t turn everything into a competition.

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