Dad

Reviewing life with Dad after he’s passed away.

Married while they were young, divorced while I was young, Mom seemed to give Dad a bum rap, something I didn’t appreciate until I was older and knew Mom and Dad better as adults.

Dad married three times. He sired seven children, two girls and five sons. Only two of his sons lived to adulthood.

One son tragically died in a car accident when he was just five years old. Dad was at his saddest and most silent then, and I was beside him at his son’s funeral.

I only lived with Dad twice: when I was very young until I was about five years old, and then again between the ages of fifteen and eighteen. I’d run away from home. Dad, in the Air Force and just returned to the U.S. from assignment in Germany, gave me a place to live. I was at his wedding with his second wife.

I’ve seen and visited him sporadically throughout the years. We talked on the phone more during the last few years, something that he actively pursued, trying to mend and improve our relationship.

Dad at 92, August of 2025.

Dad taught me to pee behind a bush. We lived in Arlington, Virginia in a rented house on a cul-de-sac at the top of a hill. Dad was in the Air Force; Mom was a telephone operator. Mom was working, and Dad, with the children, was locked out of the house. I announced that I needed to pee. Dad led me behind some bushes by the side of the house and told me to go. I was horrified but did it with his encouragement.

Mom came home just after I finished my business. I rushed out to her to inform her of my milestone. She was shocked and angry. Dad just laughed and laughed. He would’ve been in his mid-twenties.

I also give Dad credit for teaching me how to wrestle, how to catch and throw a ball, and how to ride a bike. He gave me his baseball gloves and bats when he came home on a visit and realized that I didn’t have either.

He also gave me his love of automobiles and encouraged me to think about problems and find my own solutions. Looking back, he was surprisingly patient and positive.

I don’t remember any Thanksgivings with Dad. We did share a few Christmases, and some July 4th celebrations. Most of those, though, were with Mom. He did take me on a fishing trip and gave me my first and only fishing rods.

Like many of us, Dad was a balance, a study in life, striving and trying, learning, and sometimes failing. But he always got back up and went on. I haven’t seen him much since he turned 85 seven years ago. I’ll miss him.

Thirstdaz Theme Music

High winds imitated taxiing jets all night long. We awoke to quiet sunshine and a drying land. 42 F, we hit like 49 F before the weather flipped into falling temperatures and increasing precipitation. It rained hard for a while and dropped into the thirties. Now it’s in the thirties but clear under fading sunshine. This was Christmas, Thirstda, December 25, 2025.

We were out of the house before nine AM, hitting the road to buzz to the other side of town for a breakfast brunch. The time was dropped on me yesterday. “We’re going to be there at nine?” I was incredulous. Friends had invited us to their place but that seemed like a early holiday hour when gift exchanging and children weren’t involved. We made it, no problem.

They weren’t ready for us. The husband didn’t make an appearance for over thirty minutes. We know him well and understand the health issues which slowed him. Guest number five arrived about twenty minutes after hubby showed. Guest number six was a no-show. She later called to apologize but she was having memory issue and forgot.

No matter. I was stewing about hurrying to be there when others clearly were less prepared than me for the early hour. The food, however, was sensational. Ham steaks. Plant based sausages. Dutch baby. Mexican quiche. Bananas, oranges, raspberries and blueberries. Delicious food, and after all but one arrived, a fun time, despite the early hour.

The early hour did have me smiling in memory about my childhood. Back then, filled with Santa-inspired energy, we were up by five AM, eager to see what presents had arrived. It’s a sweet look back at memories of an innocent period. Well, innocent for me. Mom and Dad were busy adulting, managing children, money, and all the associated pressures and needed.

Our fifth guest was a stranger. A music student from the Czech Republic, Tereza is 23 years old, a keyboardist who is learning music history (which, yes, she finds boring and tedious) while also being taught about more instruments. Most fascinating is her growing mastery of the pipe organ. She travels to another town to play a pipe organ in a Presbyterian Church. She shared some video of her playing.

She also gamely responded to our inquisition about the small village where she grew up, her parents and life in the Czech Republic, and their Christmas holiday traditions. A catholic, she shared their story that baby Jesus brings gifts and puts them under the tree. Yes, I wanted to know, how does baby Jesus get around? She laughed and replied, “That was our question, too.”

Then, following Christmas traditions (not), we played a full game of Mexican Train. Mexican Train felt like some kind of inherent slur, so we sought other names for it as we sorted rules, cheered wins, and lamented losses. A different and fun way to spin away Christmas hours.

Meanwhile, my sisters and I and Mom and I shot texts and videos back and forth. It’s the latest new holiday tradition.

Today’s music is “Come As You Are” by Nirvana. The Neurons fired it up in the morning mental music stream when I rolled out of bed and began fumbling through showering, shaving, and dressing. I don’t mind get up ‘early’ but I dislike being forced to forego my leisurely morning routine. As I progressed through my routine at a faster pace, The Neurons teased, “Just go as you are.” Hence, the song’s presence in the MMMS.

Had a pleasant Christmas with my wife and friends. Barely any coffee consumed. I think peace and grace peeked in on us. Hope peace and grace dropped in on you, too, however briefly it might have been, whether this is a holiday you celebrate or just another day on the calendar. Cheers

Mundaz Theme Music

Today is Munda, December 15, 2025. Sixteen days remain in 2025. It’ll be a memorable year for historians.

Clouds capped Ashlandia’s sky. Rain is s’posed to be headin’ our way. 38 degrees F now, we may see fifty.

Peace and grace took more hits this weekend. Murderers struck in Australia and Brown University. There were absolutely more murders and shootings than these two this weekend. These two were the ones which seized attention because of their planned cruelty. They seem like an extension of the mindset which put DJ Trump into the building formerly known as the White House for a second term. Part of a sad world where war and killing equals peace and justice. Same as it ever was, so I shouldn’t be surprised.

Then we came to the murder of Rob Reiner and his wife. Stabbed to death by their son. That kind of news bankrupts my soul, especially on top of the shootings.

Today’s music is a Velvet Underground offering called, “What Goes On”. I didn’t know of it when it first came out in ’68. Learned of it a few years later. Just fascinated me. It was the beat, the guitar, the organ, the drum, the lyrics and vocals. “One minute born, one minute doomed. One minute up, one minute down. What goes on in your mind?”

Today’s presence in the morning mental music stream was jogged when I questioned the poem, “A Visit from St. Nicholas”, later known as “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas”. We heard it recited with some humorous music accompaniment at a holiday concert yesterday. St. Nick was covered with soot coming down the chimney. I commented that he must have been filthy by the night’s end. My wife said, “No, he’d be cleaned by Christmas magic.” Which lead to my observation that Christmas Magic would be a good name for a dry-cleaning service. Which precipitated the wonder, “What goes on in your mind.”

Musing around dream gyrations and yesterday and other things, the comment returned to me. The Neurons caught it and the song came on.

Stay warm and safe, wherever you are. Hope peace and grace do a quick cameo for the cameras. Coffee has me going again. Oh, it’s raining, first precipitation of December. And off we go. Cheers

Sundaz Theme Music

Ah, Sunda. December 14, 2025. Was 29 F and sunny, with clouds. That was an hour ago. Now it’s 30 with dense fog. High of 50 something forecasted. We never reach those forecasted highs these days. At least, not in the last seven days. I know, it’s a small sample size.

The weather disparity reflects a greater wonder, how is what Trump has done affect our systems and abilities? How long will it take for that delta to become fully revealed. Conversely, does that delta even exist, or is this a product of my life in a news bubble? And if the bubble exists, how long will it take for us to address and fix it? Some will probably hastily explain, oh, AI can fix it all. But AI comes with its own problems and introduces more problems. So it goes, as it has since technology has begun advancing and displacing people and changing experiences and expectations.

It’s kicked off between Mom and sis again. Sis complains that Mom yells at her and complains all the time. So sis yells back. Mom complains that sis is always yelling at her. Meanwhile, my youngest sister won’t talk to Mom. Says Mom is always yelling at her and is tired of it. Oldest sister has been completely disengaged, and sister number three has, in sis’s words, checked out. All this dysfunction is deeply rooted in family history. It’s a sad culmination of a lot of ongoing anger and resentment. Of course, I checked out decades ago, after one of Mom’s husbands threatened me. Saw the future and abandoned everyone. I’m not proud of it but I was a child. I admit, it left me damaged, too. We’re all damaged.

Of course, it comes down to one of those, “What are you going to do?”, situations. We’ve seen this coming for years. Tried to plan to prevent it. Living with Frank, and with Frank helping her, Mom resisted and refused to cooperate. So we held our breath and went on. Now the worse that we feared is happening. I, of course, feel helpless. Most of my sisters seem angry. They have heavier and deeper damage from life with Mom.

Worse of all is how often this sort of situation and worse is replayed around the nation, around the world. We advance, and yet we’re stuck. We’re smart, and we’re stupid. We can see ahead but can do nothing.

All of this extends well beyond families, of course. We see the same kind of helplessness in business, education, the environment, animal and human rights, agriculture. Just adds to the tension and frustration for us that we see but can’t act.

Been reading of all the flood damage up in Washington and northwestern Oregon. The rain amounts and river levels hit historic highs. Messy and disastrous. Stories of dramatic rescues are interspersed with stories, videos and photos of mudslides, houses floating in rivers, huge waves battering the coast, bridges and roads collapsing. State of emergency declared in Washington. I’m surprised that Trump and FEMA approved requested emergency assistance. Let’s see if they deliver. Meanwhile, hope everyone affected can find safe places to endure and recover.

I wonder what fresh heaping will come with the next tomorrow. That triggers The Neurons. They play “Tomorrow Comes Today” by Gorillaz for me. I watch quite a bit of Brit and Irish TV, especially dramas, SF, and police procedurals, and believe I picked up the song from one of those. I often pursuing hearing more of a song when I hear parts of it on a television show or movie.

Coffee has come to rescue me for the moment. Hope peace and grace finds us all and gives us some respite from whatever is stymying and hurting us. Here we, into another day. Cheers

Thirstdaz Theme Music

Sunshine was beaming in, trying to move the needle on this Thirstdaz. Clouds dropped in, muting the sunshine, dousing us with an instant chill. 39 F around my house, the thermometer hopes to see the low fifties today. It’s December 4, 2025. After a mildly wet few months, we’ve suddenly gone cold and dry. Feels like winter out there on many morns.

A friend’s spouse passed away. Most of is learned of it last night. He’d been on hospice for eighteen months, and she carried so much of the caring and the worrying during that long goodbye. Now that he’s gone, she seems ready to step back into her own life again. I only met him a few times, briefly, but always liked his presence. The old photos of him — long dark hair, guitar in hand somewhere in Texas — suggest a version of him I wish I’d known. Wherever he’s headed now, I hope the road is kind. Moments like this tend to shift a group’s energy; the news seemed to quiet all of us, each in our own way. That’s the thing about a death: it sends you off in unexpected directions. Even had me thinking about a novel titled News of a Death.

In honor of Steve Cropper, I’m going with a song that features him. He was one of those musicians and songwriters who helped build my appreciation of popular music and where it can take us by his many contributions. Here’s the Blues Brothers on SNL playing “Soul Man”. And there is grinning Steve Cropper, having fun, playing the guitar, part of the scene.

Occurred to me after posting something about Trump and the records he’s setting, I overlooked his new record of giving pardons. No firm proof has been established but there are allegations and accusations that Delusive Donny is selling pardons. He certainly favors the wealthy, no matter the crime that won them conviction. Nothing like the chief enforcer of the nation’s law and order to undermine and break the system again and again and again and again and again…

My wife also shared a piece with me where some on the right are applauding Trump’s naps. They claim they think it’s smart of him. Yes, we laughed our rear ends off at their deep efforts to spin Trump’s shortcomings, the very same shortcomings for which they previously denigrated President Joe Biden.

Coffee has been poured into the system. Ready to make like a flea and jump. Hope peace and grace makes their way into your day. Cheers

Twozdaz Theme Music

Another cold morning, although that stuff is relative. Cold for us for December 2, 2025, is 32 F on awakening. Climbed to 39 F now. Been sunny and clear all morning on this frosty Twozda. Looking for a high in the low to mid 50s.

Read that Trump fired some immigration judges in New York. They’ve probably been following the law and ruling in accordance with same, following rules of evidence and procedures, and going by precedence. All that is a no-no in Trump’s alter reality where his rule is law in accordance with standard playground rules where he’s the bully who gets to say what’s what. Judges are suing him for wrongful termination, adding to his stress levels. COSTCO is also suing the Trump Regime for the tariffs. COSTCO ate the tariffs instead of passing them on; now they want Deceiving Donny’s regime to pay back the tariffs because they were illegally declared and collected. Besides that, TACO is still sweating out Epstein files details, faces declining popularity due to rising prices, persistent failures, has had his attorneys general declared illegal, lost some court cases, and is using words or doing things that are finally pushing Republicans to say, “Enough.” Glad they’re starting to catch up. The rest of us have been shouting, “Enough,” since 2016.

WordPress tells me my stats are booming! Again. This seems to happen every seven to ten days, starting a few months back. I suspect bots seeking commentary on Trump. Don’t know who’s sending the bots or what they’ll do with the information they collect. So far, it just intermittently drives up my traffic.

The music today comes by way of convo with my wife. This is in conjunction with discussing something we were talking about buying. As part of the conversation, there was discussion about driving to a place that’s not real close but not real far, you know? Far enough that it’ll take gas and time but not so far that we’d need to stay overnight. Anyway, in this day and age, the alternative is to go online. So it was a question of “Do we want to go all that way?” Yes, we are essentially lazy.

Anyway, catching the surface vibes, The Neurons responded with a song from the 1970s by a group called the Raspberries, “Go All the Way”. The conversation was late last night but the song is stuck in the morning mental music stream. Found an interesting video of the song being ‘performed’. Looked like a classic lip-syncing event on The Mike Douglas Show. Wow, remember it?

The vocalist is Eric Carmen. After the band broke up, he went on to a successful solo career. Remember “Hungry Eyes” and “All By Myself”? Same guy. He also co-wrote “Almost Paradise”. He died in 2024, 74 years old.

Got my coffee in me and it’s time to rock on. Peace and grace aren’t here yet, but it could be the cold keeping them away. Maybe if I travel to somewhere warmer, I’ll find them there. But I’m not up to a trip today. Here we go. Cheers

Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

Sort of funny how we use the word charge and how its meanings has shifted.

We used to say things like, “Then he charged at me,” or, “That animal charged me.”

More often for a while, we heard charge in, “He was charged with the crime of soliciting,” or “He was charged with drunk driving.”

Later, charging things via credit cards were in vogue, such as, “I’m going to charge it for now, and then I’ll pay it off later.”

Now we say, “I didn’t charge my phone and now it’s almost dead. I have to find a charger.” Imagine hearing that forty years ago, if you’ve been alive that long. What were you charging in 1985?

Of course, imagine back in 1970 if someone asked you, “Do you have a laptop?” You’d think they were crazy, asking such a question.

C’est la vie.

Thirstdaz Theme Music

We’re again into the territory in the United States called ‘Thanksgiving’ or ‘Thanksgiving Day’. Shrouded with mythology, embedded in gluttony, wrapped with consumerism, T-day has become complicated for many in the U.S. My wife can’t stand the holiday but participates instead in an annual Friendsgiving. It’s just Thanksgiving with a different label. The essence of gathering and eating is unchanged. For the record, my spouse despises Thanksgiving for the cruelty to animals done in its name, and for the celebration of overeating done while so many go wanting. I respect her opinions. For me, Thanksgiving is filled with nostalgia. Mom loved cooking and feeding her family and having us all together. That’s when she was always at her best. So I have great memories of those times. Later, as I rose in rank, we always opened our door to younger military members and shared Thanksgiving with them. Plenty of good memories swirl around those days, too. So, it’s complicated. Let me put this to you: I’ve thankful for what I have and what I had. I’m hopeful that we can create a world where accumulating wealth and power will finally give way to keeping us all healthy and safe, regardless of holiday, nation, or any of the many qualifications too many people attach to who they’re willing to help.

For Thanksgiving in Ashlandia, the weather is complicated but typical. Sunny with blue skies and clouds. Rain might show up later. Temp hovering around 50 F may get up to 58 F. Average and complicated. This is Thirstda, November 27, 2025.

Thoughts of home and reflections about last night’s dreams prompted The Neurons to bring up “Can’t Find My Way Home”. This Blind Faith song came out well over fifty years ago. It still feels right. I went with a cover with Steve Winwood and Tom Petty. Hope you give it a listen.

Funny to read this story this morning:

Trump VP’s old tweet comes back to haunt him

A four-year-old social media post from now-Vice President J.D. Vance has resurfaced online, putting him under fresh scrutiny.

~snip~

In 2016, Vance was openly critical of Trump’s candidacy and at one point referred to him as “America’s Hitler,” a remark that has repeatedly resurfaced since he joined the ticket.

~snip~

Then comes another headline in the story:

A complicated history between Trump and Vance

Nothing complicated about it. Vance sold out for money, power, and position, and willingly and eagerly advanced Trump’s lies to advance himself. In short, Vance demonstrated he lacks principles. Simplest story in the world. Vance isn’t an exception. We’ve seen this with multiple Republicans. After disparaging Trump, they’ve united behind him and stand with him, except for a few outliers, as this 2016 WaPo story attests.

The tortured things GOP Senate candidates have said about Donald Trump, to date

Hope your Thanksgiving provides something for you to be thankful for, and they you enjoy a good, a good month, a good coming year. May peace and grace find us today and every day. Cheers

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Hello World. We’ve stepped into another Wenzda. This is November 26, 2025. Sunshine is warming Ashlandia. The clouds have stepped out. Fog has eased off. It’s 48 F with pretentions of reaching the mid 60s. The winter edge has filed away, and it feels like a pleasant autumn day out there.

The Neurons are offering a melody by The Offspring in the morning mental music stream. “The Kids Aren’t Alright” entered the stream as I scanned news, shook my head, and wondered, “What the hell is going on?” That plays right into the song’s lyrics.

What the hell is going on?
The cruelest dream, reality

The song was written in response to one of the band members seeing first hand how the ‘American Dream’ failed his home town. From Wikipedia.org:

Dexter Holland wrote the song after visiting his home town, Garden GroveCalifornia, and discovering many of his old acquaintances had faced serious problems. Holland stated: “The neighborhood looks like Happy Days, but it’s really Twin Peaks,” while guitarist Noodles said that the song subverted the idea that “you grow up hoping you and your friends have a bright future.”

How many of us have seen something like this transpire? You meet these little nephews, nieces, neighbor kids, etc., and think, “Gosh, what a bright and talented young person. So intelligent and precocious.” Parents rave about how great the child is. Then, a few years later, you hear about the child’s growing problems. Some of the problems are derived from school, some from family, even parents. And you think, “What happened?” in wistful wondering tones. Kind of like many do with this country, particularly under the Trump Regime. What happened? WTF is happening? Especially to the cratering of norms, institutions, and structures under Dizzy Donny’s guidance, and the twisted priorities he pursues to glorify and enrich himself. Dozy Donny is such a broken toy.

Call out and reminder, We Ain’t Buying It this weekend. Annie presents a solid reminder of the whereins and whyfors for us. It’s about money, power, responsibility, and living with choices. Check out Annie’s post, if you will.

THE “WE AIN’T BUYING IT” BOYCOTT THIS WEEKEND

~snip~

Big Business is a substantial target as we enter a Big Business Weekend. The coalition behind “We Ain’t Buying It” began with Black organizations that started boycotting Target when it dropped its DEI policy to appease Trump’s White Nationalist agenda. That boycott continues.

The opposition now includes many other supportive groups. As explained below, the emphasis is on Target, Home Depot, and Amazon, and the boycott is for the weekend that begins on Thanksgiving Day, moves to Black Friday, and concludes with CyberMonday.

You can read all the details in Indivisible’s description. As they say, it’s simple. It’s also a building block for the economic measures that will be necessary in the near future.

~snip~

On to coffee! The first sip is with the nose. Since grace and peace haven’t deigned to be here, I’ll just carry on widout ’em. Onward, into the world. Cheers

Twozdaz Theme Music

Good morning. We’re here in Fog City on Twozda, November 25, 2025. It’s a sweltering 41 F outside, and it’s gonna get hotter! As the sun and fog tango and clouds move in and out, we’ll crest 55 F. All this continues a pattern of unusually cold and foggy weather for us, weather that’s colder than normal for Ashlandia. Still, we’re not seeing the heavy rains crashing into the northeastern part of the state, so, thanks, weather gods.

Speaking of the state, Oregon’s governor declared a state of emergency.

Oregon governor declares fuel emergency after pipeline leak, warns of rising gas prices

Oregon Gov. Tina Kotek declared a state of emergency Monday to ensure that enough fuel arrives to the state while the Olympic Pipeline, which supplies more than 90% of the state’s fuel, remains shut down due to a leak ahead of Thanksgiving travel.

Kotek’s declaration is intended to keep enough fuel arriving to the state by ships and trucks partly by waiving certain regulations on how long commercial drivers hauling fuel can operate, according to the governor’s order.

~snip~

Oregon officials said they did not expect a fuel shortage in the state or at Portland International Airport with the emergency measures but cautioned that drivers might see an uptick in prices because of the more costly delivery methods.

In Washington, where Gov. Bob Ferguson declared a similar state of emergency last week, the shutdown is starting to slow some air travel in Seattle ahead of Thanksgiving.

~snip~

Oregon often has a price higher than most states. This is generally driven by a combination of factors, including state taxes and the challenges of importing gasoline and other fuels into the state.

Today’s music is a hit by the Four Tops, “Standing in the Shadows of Love. This is all dream related. As the dream faded, I moved into a shadow. Had nothing to do with love at all. But as I reflected on the dream, The Neurons started playing the song in the morning mental music stream. The song came out in 1966, when I was ten, and was a powerful and repetitive presence on AM car radios. My older sister also bought the 45 when it was available and it was inserted into the song rotation she and her girlfriends played on sis’s little portable record player. So, yes, I have a strong familiarity with the song.

One of the more interesting things about news yesterday was a story that slowly disappeared. Early on, I read a story about DOJ resignation letters under Dizzy Don TACO Trump. I read about that on three sites at that point, including CNN and CBS. When I went back to read the articles again later, the CNN and CBS sites had removed the story. I don’t know why. But I can reasonably speculate that this is part of the mainstream media caving to the Trump Regime and shying away from stories TACO might find too critical or truthful. TACO has a thin skin, dontchaknow, and the media is fearful of his anger and what he might do to them.

Raw Story still has the story up, though.

Ex-DOJ officials leave scathing messages behind

Former Department of Justice officials who were either forced out or resigned in protest of President Donald Trump’s administration left some scathing resignation letters for their bosses, and a new organization is seeking to preserve as many of the letters as possible, according to a new report.

Since Trump took office in January, about 5,000 employees at the Department of Justice have either quit or resigned, CBS News reported on Sunday. Meanwhile, a cadre of those former employees is banding together to create a public display of the messages the former employees left for their bosses. Those employees have created an organization called Justice Connection that is organizing and posting the messages, the report added.

Stacey Young, a former civil division attorney for the Justice Department, is leading Justice Connection. A spokesperson for the organization told CBS News that they are working to preserve the messages because they “show what is happening in our country at this moment.”

The repository includes messages left by high-profile former employees such as Maurene Comey, the daughter of former FBI Director James Comey.

~snip~

I found it a compelling situation and admired the sentiments and principles these people espoused. I wholly recommend checking it out.

Peace and grace are still maintaining a low profile. Hope they find us soon. The fog is blotting out less of the sun and the coffee is hot and fresh. Guess I’ll just flow with those positives. Here we go, once more into the day. Cheers

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