It’s Tuesday, September 10, 2024. The national elections are 56 days away. Vice President Kamala Harris and felon Donald Trump will debate policies and positions tonight to sway undecided voters. I expect Donald Trump to lie…a lot. I expect him to act like a little and put on an entertaining act for his base. He is all low-style and little substance. I don’t expect him to say anything about Project 2025; if he does, he’ll probably deny having anything to do with it.
I expect Kamala Harris to be well-spoken, intelligent, and upbeat.
We’ll see what happens. Kinda holding my breath. The Harris – Walz campaign has demonstrated a lot of positive energy IMO. My wife and friends are also pretty stoked. But the media casts the race as being a dead heat. While we scratch our heads and ask WTF, we wonder what people are seeing and thinking in the nation’s other regions.
Second point to that, I thought President Biden was going to be strong at his debate with Trump. Instead, President Biden’s performance ended with him stepping aside for Veep Harris a few weeks. Not a bad move in the end, but the debate night performance undermined my confidence about my perceptions and thinking. So I’m leery about tonight.
It’s 62 degrees F outside of my Ashlandia home. Today’s high will be a comfortable 83 F. The air is fresher again today, with little hint of smoke. I’ve watched people walking — with and without dogs, alone and in pairs — and runners, taking advantage of the temperature and clean air. Airnow.gov pegs the air quality for Ashlandia overall at 52, just above ‘good’. Purpleair shows the air quality is 33 down the street and 75 up the street. We’ll see how it flows.
We’re pretty excited at my house. Rain is in the forecast for tomorrow. Rain, with a high in the 60s. Giddyup.
I’m anxious about the elections. I tell myself I need patience and to be positive. The Neurons responded this morning by springing the 1989 Guns N’ Roses “Patience” on the morning mental music stream (Trademark worn). Yes, a little patience to get through this is mo def needed for this era. I’m a person who struggles to be patient at times. That’s what led to me into taking transcendental meditation instructions in the Philippines in the mid 1970s. That helped a great deal, as does my continued meditation, but impatience still gets the better of me too often.
Gotta go close the windows. Smoke smells are curling in and congestion is rising in my nose and sinuses. Purpleair has the reading at 129 up the street.
Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue in 2024. Coffee is being sucked down. Here is the music video. Cheers
Can you believe it? This morning, it’s chilly. About 61 F at my house at the mo. One door and two windows partially open to harvest and store some cold air for the day. Cuz it’s gonna get hot. 99 F.
This is Wednesday, September 4, 2024.
A friend posted a link to an article about Newsmax hosts reacting to J.D. Vance’s assertions that childless elites are dangerous for the country. He — J.D. Vance, not the friend — believes that if you’re childless, you should not be in a position of ‘power’. I imagine he wouldn’t want childless people to teach children, then.
I guess, then, that his Priests all have children, right? If I’m following his thinking, I mean. Like, the Pope should immediately start fornicating his robes off and get to procreating.
In his view, it’s a danger because, “If you don’t have kids, who’s going to take care of you when you’re old?” he continued. “Who’s going to care for our elderly? Work the jobs that are necessary? If we don’t have children, then the answer is nobody.”
J.D. Vance is such a narrow thinker. Which explains why he was against Trump before he stuck his head right up Trump’s ass. See, right now, I’m sure the robot industry, driven by childless engineers, are working hard on this problem of who will care for the childless elderly when they need assistance. These CareBots will probably be produced by all the major car manufacturers, advertised on Facebook and Google, and have Amazon tracking chips so that as soon as someone utters a wish about a food or drink, the CareBot will offer to order it.
I think what J.D. Vance is really worried about is the lack of child labor available. I believe I read that Project 2025 and the GOP in general wants to abolish child labor laws. Don’t quote me on that because I’m operating on precariously low coffee levels. As I see it, though, having children available to work would drive down wages because there would be a larger labor pool. Then US manufacturing can compete with countries where they’re willing to pay people pennies and permit children to work.
Of course, we could not put any children in any positions of power, no matter how intelligent or talented they might be. Because those children don’t have children. Unless, J.D. Vance is planning for children to have children. That wouldn’t surprise me.
BTW, don’t you think that ‘J.D. Vance’ sounds like a low-end department store? “Come on down to J.D. Vance for your Labor Day shopping needs! Our children cashiers and stockers keep our prices the lowest around. We’re open 24 hours a day, seven days a week. We have the latest MAGA apparel on sale. And we just got in a shipment of gold-plated replicas of Donald Trump’s shot ear! But hurry. At these prices, this stock won’t last.”
Pivoting, The Neurons are playing “Tusk” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark childless). I blame Jill Dennison for this. I regularly read her blog, or try; I have a bunch of them which I try to read but there’s not enough time, what with all the golfing I do. Any, “Tusk” is a Fleetwood Mac song from the early 1970s. You may have read about the 1970s in your Republican edited textbooks. It was a time when Richard Nixon saved the world from the Godless commies, and OPEC raised gas prices and cut our gas supply, scaring the bejesus out of Americans driving huge motor vehicles which got such poor gas mileage that manufacturers were trying to figure out ways to refuel cars without people having to stop at a gas station. I was there; I remember.
Anyway, we also had ‘rock’ music back then. Fleetwood Mac are rock performers. Jill D. — not to be confused with Micky D. — shared a Fleetwood Mac song. In her informative post, “Tusk” was mentioned. Or maybe I read it somewhere else. I don’t know. It’s all melting together like burning birthday candles on a cake. But The Neurons took those words and brought the song into my head where it’s been playing off and on in between commercials for holiday shopping at J.D. Vance, where every employee has a child. It’s company policy.
Stay positive, be strong, and stay fresh all day long with J.D. Vance’s new and improved J.D. Vance A.D./A.P. Available at J.D. Vance Deparment Stores everywhere.
I need some coffee. Here’s the music. Hope you find it entertaining. Peace out.
It’s a new month. September has arrived, on a Sunday, and on a holiday weekend. Seems weird that it’s Labor Day weekend. It’s too soon! Nobody around here seems prepared. I’ve barely seen any ads. Okay, turn the page.
It’s 76 F here in Ashlandia, where Labor Day is privately celebrated. The expected high will be 94 F, so it’s cooled off from the last two days. Saw 100 at my house yesterday. Besides being cooler, it’s cloudier. Will it rain? The Weather 8 Ball says ‘All signs point to no.’ Air quality is good but the pollen count is high, and I’m feeling that.
My wife sat up with a burst of outrage this morning. She read a headline aloud, “The one thing Kamala Harris said that shows she’s unfit to be president.” My wife fumed, “The one thing. The one thing! Show me one thing Donald Trump said that shows him fit to be president.” I received the Vote Vets Harris-Walz for President magnetic bumper sticker she ordered me yesterday and slapped it on my rear end. It immediately fell off because I’m flesh and blood and not very magnetic. I then put it on the car. Yes, some pre-coffee humor. Sorry.
My wife has also ordered a dozen bumper stickers to give out to friends, and two other magnetic bumper stickers for our car. She’s donated to the Harris-Walz campaign several times, but is outraged that they keep just asking her for more. I explain, “Honey, that’s the nature of political campaigns.” That just sets her off more.
Ima starting a new theme week this week. Starting today, I’ll provide a song that features night in the title. The Neurons immediately sprang up with “Whatever Gets You Through the Night.” The rocking 1974 John Lennon release is rolling through the morning mental music stream (Trademark dark).
Stay positive, be strong, and have a drink of something to get you through the moment. I’ve chosen coffee. Here’s the music. Don’t forget, Vote Blue. Cheers
Another Saturday has been found. Calendarologists have identified it as August 31, 2024, the last Saturday of the month. In a weird twist, the last Saturday of August is also part of the four day Labor Day weekend in ‘Merica. It seems too soon to me, but I was not consulted.
Gonna be a hot one, I won’t lie. Thermostat is expected to shy away from 100 degrees F by one or two degrees. Then it’ll drop 30 to 40 degrees for the night again. The air is clear, though, my friends, and satisfactory for breathing.
Saw a post today where a friend shared. It said, “The U.S.A. is not a Christian nation. But it is a nation where you are free to be Christian.” Someone else commented, “Sort of. The founding fathers believed that our rights are given to us by God not government, the constitution is to protect those rights by limiting the government from infringing on those God given rights.” They then added a link.
I think the poster sharing the link misses the point. The original post states, it’s not a Christian nation, but you’re free to be a Christian. Nothing in Anthony J. Minna’s stance, who wrote the linked article, changes that point.
“The Declaration contains several other references to a higher power. The introduction states that the “Laws of Nature and Nature’s God” entitle the American people to a separate and equal station among the powers of the earth. In the conclusion, Congress appeals to “the Supreme Judge of the world” for the rectitude of its intentions and professes its “firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence.” In each case, reference to a deity serves to validate the assertion of independence.
“The genius of the Declaration is the inclusive way the divine is given expression. The appellations of God are generic. Adherents of traditional theistic sects can read the words “Nature’s God,” “Creator,” and “Supreme Judge,” and understand them to mean the god they worship. The claims made on numerous Christian websites attest to this. Yet opponents of dogma read those same words and see an embracive, non-sectarian concept of divinity. This is no small testimony to the wisdom and foresight of the Founding Fathers. All Americans could support the Revolution and independence. All can regard their rights as unalienable, their liberty as inviolable.
“Unlike the Declaration of Independence, the United States Constitution contains no reference to God. At first, this may seem odd. Why did the men who drafted the Declaration invoke a Supreme Being several times, while the men who drafted the Constitution did not mention a higher power even once? Only six individuals signed both documents, so it could be hypothesized that the delegates to the Constitutional Convention that convened in Philadelphia in 1787 were a different and less religious group than the delegates to the Continental Congress, or perhaps that the delegates to the Continental Congress were savvy freethinkers cynically manipulating people’s belief in God to win support for their overthrow of British rule. Neither explanation holds water. Some of the Founders were conventional Christians and some were not, but the belief in a deity implied in the Declaration was sincere and likely universal among the delegates to both the Continental Congress and the Constitutional Convention. And a belief in the possibility of divine favor was held by even some of the least religious Founders.”
Added emphasis is mine.
Therein is one of the problems of many Christians in the United States. They read or hear of God and think of their own Christian God and the concept of creation of their Christian God. They fall to think of other creation myths which exist. There are over one hundred out there. Naturally, they don’t consider any other God, either; nor do they consider proponents or followers of other relations. That’s why, when they pass laws about religions, they’re often shocked when other religions begin using the law to further their own religion’s tenets and principles, such as mine, Pastafarianism.
Enough of that. We went to the OSF Green Show last night to see B.O.O.M. Cloudless, with the sun going down and the heat creeping down from the low nineties, it was a gorgeous night to be on the green listening to tunes. B.O.O.M’s name translates to Brothers of Other Mothers. But they’ve added a female drummer. The name is under re-consideration. They mentioned B.O.S.O.O.M.: Brothers or Sister of Other Mothers.
Whatever they called themselves, their show was fun and energetic. Highlights for me was fast paced, ripping “One Way Out” originally by the Allman Brothers Band. The penultimate song, I would have been satisfied if they ended there but they finished with a rousing rendition of Elvis Costello “What’s So Funny About Peace, Love, and Understanding?”
I’m finishing my theme week – well, a week and one day – of songs with time in the title with Nick Waterhouse and “It’s Time” from 2016. I first heard this song on the Reacher television series. As I thought about ‘time’ theme songs early this A.M., The Neurons blew this one off and played it in the morning mental music stream (Trademark postmarked). It’s a jazz-infused pop offering to me and I like it.
Stay positive, remain strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. I’ve been nursing coffee, or it’s been nursing me. Time to giddy-up. Here’s the music. Cheers
The pendulum is swinging. It’s Friday, August 30, 2024, and the hours of daylight have noticeably reduced. It’s an advantage at sun soars through blue cloudless skies, working with the air to lift the temperature next to triple digits during the day, like 97 F today. But then the clear skies and longer night lets the temps skivvy down to the upper fifties, delivering relief. Slips of autumn have climbed back into my life. Some maples have shifted into fall fashions. Starbucks is offering fall drinks. School is back is session at every level locally. And football is again rolling across TV screens, carrying news through feeds.
But first: we must get through Labor Day. In the U.S., we have the bookend holidays of Memorial Day and Labor Day. To many, MD marks summer’s unofficial beginning, and LD is the unofficial end.
I read several news articles in depth this morning. One was about how Republicans have softened their climate change stance. They rarely outright deny it these days. I guess that with so much extreme weather killing and maiming our world, they recognize that they look and sound like fools when they do. Instead, they like to problemtize the solutions which Democrats — and much of the world — recommends. Like moving to more sustainable forms such as wind and solar. No, these caus more problems, they inform their constituents, even as they lie about what’s happening.
Last day of my theme of time in the song’s title. As many of age and are forced to cope with changes, we lament the same thing. The Neurons brought the song that asks the question into the morning mental music stream (Trademark timed): “Where Have All the Good Times Gone?” It originally popped onto the rock music scene in the hands of the Kinks in 1965. It’s since been covered by a chunk of performers, most notably Bowie and Van Halen. But I stayed with the Kinks for this day. Ray Davies of the Kinks wrote it and said in an interview:
“We’d been rehearsing ‘Where Have All the Good Times Gone’ and our tour manager at the time, who was a lot older than us, said, ‘That’s a song a 40-year-old would write. I don’t know where you get that from.’ But I was taking inspiration from older people around me. I’d been watching them in the pubs, talking about taxes and job opportunities.”
August 29, 2024, crept into our world as clocks finished a round of counting.
It’s Thursday, so named for the day of the week when the poor were served free drinks at ale houses and taverns. Don’t look it up, because I made it up.
We’re expected a high of 97 F plus this afternoon. For now, though, the windows are closed because it’s a chilly 58 F in my environs. Air quality is marginally good. Blue sky reigns o’er most of the valley, but some hazy, formless clouds have popped up on the northern and western horizons.
Reviewing news, I see talk of Trump’s ‘campaign’. That agent of chaos is spreading more disinformation, still lying about the 2020 election results, spinning accusations out of air, and trying hard to disrupt intelligent discourse on anything except maybe the askance wondering, WTF is he doing?
Take the Arlington National Cemetery kerfluffle. This was an event planned for the families of thirteen service members killed earlier this year. They wanted it private. Trump, true to his tone-deaf self-centered character jumped at a chance to show that he really does support and respects the military and its members. That’s despite his claims that he’s smarter than generals. Or that military members, especially injured or dead ones, are losers. Or his sniveling that the Congressional Medal of Honor given to military members is less worthy than the Presidential Medal of Freedom. His audacious reasoning was that soldiers and their medal is ‘worth less’ “either in very bad shape, because they’ve been hit so many times by bullets, or they’re dead”.
What brilliant logic.
Meanwhile, there is Trump’s photo op. Grinning like an idiot, giving a thumps up.
Such respect.
What was sadder was how his supporters jumped to protect his actions. One wrote in comments that ‘at least he was there to honor them.’ Yeah, idiot. Number one, that’s not why he was there, and that’s obvious to us all outside of the MAGA circle jerk. Two, the families resquested that this not be politicized. They wanted privacy to grieve. Trump turned it into a circus. The MAGA commenter showed that they’re as tone deaf and out of touch as their master. CORRECTION: Two families had invited the Trump show. But that doesn’t change that it’s against policy and practice to desecrate Arlington with politics and campaigning.
Moving on.
My theme for the week still centers on songs with time in the title. Up to the challenge, The Neurons leaped forward with “Time for Me to Fly” by REO Speedwagon. It’s playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark timed) like it’s playing on the radio in 1978.
Stay positive and be strong. Lean forward and vote blue in 2024. Coffee is wending through my systems with its magic fingers. Here’s the music. Cheers
My sloppy and unscientific observations draw me to a bottom line that five minutes of writing in my head requires thirty to forty minutes of intense typing to put the scene into the ‘puter.
Your results may vary. Also, this only applies to this manuscript in progress. Also, beverages might play a role in the outcome. Like beer, wine, coffee.
Deeper study is needed for more insightful results. Donations are requested. Like beer, wine, coffee. Maybe a wedge of pie.
We’re passing through another day. Today is Thursday, August 22, 2024.
I’m still on the Oregon Coast on vacation. The weather continues favoring us with sunshine, chill temperatures, and clear air. Some friendly clouds pass by with a wave. Right now it’s 60 F, just two degrees from an anticipated high of 62 F. The tide is coming in, so I’ll be going out for a walk along the water.
Rain fell last night. Hearing it, I headed out onto the uncovered patio at a few minutes after midnight, letting it fall over me, breathing in the fresh air, solitude, and sound.
The Internet was mostly down yesterday. While others napped, I wrote or walked along the shore, breathing in the air, enjoying freedom, and thinking, sometimes writing in my head. It was about two miles in each direction. I rarely encountered another. When we did, simple nods and smiles were exchanged, acknowledging the other’s presence. The net returned in time for us to catch the DNC, watching and listening to it as we worked on a jigsaw puzzle.
I continue with the theme of a color in the song’s title today. The Neurons wavered between “Tequila Sunrise” and “Orange Crush” this morning. The 1988 R.E.M. song won my morning mental music stream (Trademark woke). Its energy today just felt right.
Be strong, remain positive, and Vote Blue. Not because I say so but because it’s better for more of us than the alterntive offered by the other party.
Coffee is playing with my body in a welcome way. Here’s the music. Cheers
Come in, come in. It’s Wednesday, August 21, 2024.
We’re still at the Oregon coast, nestled down in a beach house surrounded by sand dunes. Off in the distance is the ocean, colored today by an lightly overcast sky. It’s 64 F, and that’s as high as it will be. Rain visited overnight, and stronger winds are flirting with the sand today. Except for an aerospace vehicle’s occassional propeller drone, it is quiet.
Spoke to the catsitter last night and all is well with the house floofs. They know and trust her. I wasn’t worried about Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) but Papi is generally more wary. Not a problem, she told me. He was there, waiting to be fed, came in, and readily ate. It’s good to have someone dependable in that role that we trust and the floofs trust.
The net went out last night and was still out this morning, so our news feed was sparse. We’ve seen one Trump declaration anywhere, and one Harris sign. It’s a sharp contrast to four years ago, when frequent Tump signage was spotted. We’re doing a jigsaw puzzle, a favorite activity with this gang, so the absence of the net wasn’t noticed except the lack of convention news.
We headed out for breafast at The Blue Whale this morning. Then the group splintered. One group went hiking up Cape Despair way. My group returned to the beach house. It’s low tide right now, and the net is back. So, some web surfing to catch up and then down to the water. As I type this up, my wife calls out political news from her perch with her ‘puter. Sometimes she confuses me because she’s talking to her computer when I think she’s speaking to me. “What?” I shout. “Not talking to you,” she returns. She streaming DNC news stories now.
I’ve done black, red, white, and blue for the color theme for my theme music. Staying with that concept today, I think of songs which include green, gold, yellow, pink, and purple. “Purple Haze” by Jimi Hendrix takes over the morning mental music stream (Trademark red) as The Neurons jump onto the song wagon. Songs like “Gold Dust Woman,” “Pink Shoelaces,” “Yellow,” “Purple Rain,” “Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini,” “Big Bright Green Pleasure Machine,” and “Pink Cadillac” are displaced. “Purple Haze” it is.
Coffee has been consumed a couple times. Be strong, stay positive, and vote blue. Here’s the music. Cheers
Good mornin’ all. Tuesday, August 16, 2024, finds me on the Oregon coast, where I’ll be spending the week. It’s 62 but the weather geeks claims it feels like 77 F. Good thing, as it’s sunny with some clouds, but will only crank up to 65 F here.
Our regular cat sitter is staying with the boys, Tucker and Papi. Tucker is happy with her but Papi, ever wary, is like, “Who are you and what did you do with my people?” She has only done this for us about fifteen years. It takes Papi time to trust.
I don’t know what we’re doing today. Been up a couple hours. Had my coffee. Listening to the others slowly awaken and begin talking about the day. Think I’ll just go for a walk on the beach.
Haven’t seen any news for today or yesterday. I’m comfortable with that for the moment. Color in song titles remains my theme concept for this week. I did “Red Red Wine” and “Dirty White Boy” in the last two days. so I’m going with blue today. When you think about songs with blue in their titles, a blue streak of songs roar through my mind. Or so The Neurons say, cranking out melodies from Elvis Presley, Elton John, Linda Ronstadt, Foreigner, U2, Badfinger, Willy Nelson, and on and on. The Neurons eventually introduced “Bell Bottom Blues” by Eric Clapton to the morning mental music stream (Trademark blue) but also Kenny Wayne Shepherd with “Blue on Black”. But then The Neurons found an old favorite among my memories, “Devil In A Blue Dress”, a 1966 song by Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels. We had that puppy on a 45, shorthand for a small vinyl record that runs at 45 RPM. I was ten then, and it made an impact on me like an asteroid hitting the earth.
Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue. Coffee is now circulating through my body. Yes, I know that’s not how it works, but it is how I visualize it, so there. Here’s the music. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 