Fridaz Theme Music

Frida finds our Ashland home peaceful. Alexa says it’s 55 F outside, but my systems put it at 38. Other locations report it’s 48. The invisible fog has lifted, leaving sunbeams a clear path to spread warmth and light through the blue sky.

Today is January 16, 2026. 60 is our projected high, kicking off a week of days in the low to mid 60s. We’ll see if that holds, given weather’s changing ways.

Whatever the temperature, Papi is in good spirits. Patio sunshine glows off his white and orange as he grooms after breakfast.

After a night of a long series of dreams, I’m in a very good mood. One had me with Jerry Seinfeld and George Constanza going to a small, intimate open-air comedy festival. I was with Jerry, who was driving, while George followed in his own car. Although an interesting time, I lost my sunglasses. I kept thinking I’d lost them in the water but consoled myself, it’s only a dream.

I also feel very good with where my health is — today. I’ve kept my lost weight off and still run and exercise. My feet, legs, and ankles stay almost pain-free, with twinges sometimes remarking on what I’m doing. Aided by supplements, my abdominal discomfort and bloating have diminished. I remain careful about what I eat and always give myself time to digest before thinking about eating something else.

While I continue to percolate with dream details, feeling healthy and peaceful, I’ve avoided looking at the news. Trump has a habit of making a good day bad, and a bad day — worse. I’ll eventually scan headlines, hoping that ICE violence isn’t climbing, the U.S. hasn’t attacked another nation, or measles aren’t spreading.

Looking at Trump statements over the last several years, remarks made by him counter history or demonstrate a weak grasp the government. I calculated that Trump has been alive for about 32% of the United States’ age as a nation. You’d think he would’ve picked up that information by now. He is college educated.

Now, for no particular reason at all, The Neurons are playing “The Passenger” in the morning mental music stream. Iggy Pop wrote, performed, and released it in 1977. As it plays, I think, here we go, off on another daily journey.

Hope your journey today is happy and carefree, graced with peace and hope. Cheers

Munda’s Wandering Thoughts

I was in the coffee shop on a writing mission, nursing a stiff neck. Falling asleep in a chair the other night, my head slipped out of position. I’ve been doing micro movements almost absent-mindedly to loosen it.

So, there I was, eyes closed, flexing my neck and head back and forth. A Steve Miller song, “Keep On Rockin’ Me, Baby”, floated out of the speakers. Without thinking about it, I was moving my head side to side in time with the music.

When I opened my eyes, a small pair of blue eyes were watching me—blonde hair, rosy cheeks, pink plastic boots. She began copying me. Eyebrows lifting, head tilting, she mirrored every little motion.

I grinned, and she laughed, and so did I. For a moment, it felt like we were performing a tiny, accidental duet—two strangers connected by rhythm, movement, and the music of another time.

Sundaz Theme Music

Sunda, January 11, 2026, silently settles in around us in Ashland. My wife and I gage the outside weather together.

Alexa told us it’s 36, cloudy, with fog and stagnant air, and a high of 56 F upcoming. My system says it’s 30 F.

“Look at the fog,” my spouse intones.

I nod. “Fortunately, it’s the invisible kind.”

Yes, we can see blue skies, sunshine, and the treed mountains as far as forever and perspective allow us. I suppose other parts of Ashland are soaked in fogs, cloud, and warmer air, and that’s where Alexa gleans her report.

Sis reported that Mom was very loopy this week. Mom again fell out of her wheelchair, again insisting that the chair ‘threw her out’. Sis and I have seen Mom in the chair and warned about leaning too far and not paying enough attention to her posture and balance.

From Mom’s point of view, she was doing everything right. What was going wrong was the chair. But we saw the same thing when she was walking last year but frequently falling. In that case, absently turning and reaching and becoming overextended caused her to fall. She always blamed something else.

Perspectives often matter. Judging from news reports and blogs, politically progressives are as enraged and watchful as me with ICE matters.

It’s dismaying. After an ICE agent killed an unarmed American citizen, Renee Good, in Minneapolis, many called for restraint. Using reports of more ICE confrontations, ICE responded with more aggression.

I watched multiple videos of Good’s encounter and death. They all left me stunned as others. I questioned why ICE agent Ross drew his weapon in the first place. The agent seemed overly aggressive, as if he wanted a chance to shoot.

ICE agents were bellicose, shouting, “Get out of the fucking car.” When Good was shot and the car went off and crashed as she died, someone said, “Bitch.”

I read a report that the killing was the first in Minneapolis in 2026. That doesn’t bode well for a calm and peaceful 2026.

Music helped reclaim some sense of calm this morning. Papi did too, coming by to greet me with chirpy purr-mew. As my oatmeal with cinnamon was made ready, The Neurons put Ray LaMontagne singing “Trouble” in the morning mental music stream.

Trouble
Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble
Trouble been doggin’ my soul since the day I was born

Worry
Worry, worry, worry, worry
Worry just will not seem to leave my mind alone

The song’s lyrics are right. Worry won’t let my mind alone since Trump emerged on the politic scene.

May worry and trouble leave you alone and peace and grace come by and comfort all of us. Cheers

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Wenzda, January 7, 2026, has settled in for its time in the spotlight. A winter storm is supposed to be striking us. I spend time watching for signs of it.

Southern and eastern views earn sun-filled eyes. It’s a gorgeous day out there! Moving on to the west, my spirits are throttled down by a foggy, white cloud view. I’m not sure how to take these signs.

I check four weather sources, and all agree, it’s 44 degrees F out there. 45 is our projected high. The alignment between the temperature readings feels like a sign but I don’t know if it’s good or bad.

I likewise don’t know how to process the signs in the political world. Whether it’s the economy, Trump’s latest military adventures or his subtle hints he’s planning more, up is down and down is up. I tell myself, just wait. All will be clear.

Waiting is frustrating because I suspect the outcome is already too clear. For example, some thinkers believe Trump’s military overtures are being tacitly accepted by China and Russia because it provides cover for their military plans. For China, that includes attacking Taiwan. Some analysts tell us that all the signs are there but they’re mostly the same signs we’ve been noticing for a quarter century.

On top of that, I’m thinking about life in general and looking for signs that 2026 will be a better year. Questions stack up: what do I mean by ‘a better year’. Well, in general, I mean a healthier year. Less death among my friends and family and fewer GOP actions that make me fear and worry for my nation’s future. That’s the small tip of a very large iceberg in my sea of worries.

The signs and worry message permeate The Neurons’ bubble. They respond with “Signs”. The original came out in 1971 by the Five Man Electrical Band. Tesla later covered it, putting out their own release in 1990. I resisted choosing between them, giving you a Wenzda twofer.

I hope the signs for you are indicating a better life to come. How that is measured is a matter of your terms. Cheers

Sundaz Theme Music

Our Ashland weather lands today as drying but wet, leaning toward being warm. This is Sunda, January 4, 2026. We usually expect some threat of snow during this season and month.

The outside does look wintry bleak. White clouds and bare branches bracket splashes of blue sky. Sunshine spills in with weak authority. But temperatures of upper forties to low fifties today, with a high in the fifties being mentioned, is less winter and more spring. Local talk about snow steers conversations toward the lack. Snow in the mountains give us the summer meltwater to keep our land hydrated.

We remind ourselves, look at history. This is Ashland, southern Oregon. Weather spins like a roulette wheel. Wherever it stops is a surprise and doesn’t surprise. Snow can still be on its way.

A new year vibe still reverberates in me, but I look on at what hasn’t changed. While weather is unpredictable, politics remain too predictable. So do family tensions. Mom and sis still butt heads, forcing small matters into huge blow ups.

After all of that, The Neurons playfully flipped “New Year’s Day” into the morning mental music stream. The U2 song from 1983 is written as a love song but a few lines stood out for The Neurons:

And so we’re told this is the golden age
And gold is the reason for the wars we wage

Though I want to be with you, be with you night and day
Nothing changes New Year’s Day

Although nothing changes New Year’s Day, I remind myself, it’s not a nimble world. Emotions, relationships, and politics are forces which require time to shift. A calendar change alone doesn’t provide enough reason for change for many.

I am an optimistic person, though. I look for positive change and I’m ready to embrace it. Let’s hope peace and grace show up and pushes positive change through. Cheers

A Road Trip Dream

I was setting out on a trip with three friends. Only one — Ron, an older man — translates to a current real-life person. Ron was just as he is in real life. The others, also males, were known.

One interesting note that emerged and wove throughout were two others, both female. They sometimes joined the journey, and Ron and I discussed whether they would be with us. The two women, both brunettes, one in a red top with black pants and the other wearing a bright blue top, would only appear and not speak directly to me.

We were riding in Ron’s truck. This was beige and big, with a four-door cab and a luxurious tan leather interior. Though Ron was driving, he was in the backseat. I was alongside him. He’d put the car on autopilot, so it was essentially driving itself with him just monitoring what was going on.

I kicked back beside him on the back seat. Stretching my legs out, my foot ended up hitting the steering wheel. That put us off course. Because of the way I was reclined, it took several seconds of jostling to get my foot out of the way. During that time, we went off the road and onto the shoulder but didn’t slow. Ron finally steered us back on course and returned the truck to autopilot, but now he was worried and concerned the police would pull us over.

We arrived at our destination — a huge furniture store. I’d never been to it. The floor was hard dirt. All furniture was antique white. Despite the floor and the limited offering, the store was very busy. The women showed up briefly. The others spoke with them while I went out to another section of store.

The next store section was filled with tables and chrome appliances. The appliances turned out to be food and drink dispensers. Needing to use a restaurant, I did some bowel business but discovered the toilet didn’t have any way to flush. Removing my fecal material with a wad of paper towels, I looked for a way to dispose of it. I found one but they wanted me to pay money to flush it away. I refused, angry and disgusted that they’d monetized flushing away our body functions. I instead found a small white bag, put the materials in there, and set it on a table, telling myself, it would be someone else’s problem.

I then reconnected with my friends. I told Ron that when we went back, I wanted to sit in the front and stretch out and sleep. He looked at me with confusion but didn’t reply. The two women came by. One said she had to go off and find her children.

My friends and I went to another section. People there were seated, waiting to pay for their selections. I stopped before one man and did a giddy tap dance. The man, overweight and big with swarthy skin and a white cowboy hat, ordered, “Stop that.” Laughing, I kept dancing but moved to another section. Another man who I didn’t see said, “Stop that,” but I laughed and danced away.

My friends met up with me again. All were surprised that I was tap dancing and thought it strange. They wondered how I learned it. I replied, “I’ve always known how to tap dance. Nobody ever needed to teach me. I just knew. I just don’t do it much.”

Dream end.

Satyrdaz Theme Music

Winds are howling again, furiously shaking trees and bushes. It’s 46 degrees F with expectations that the temperature will branch into the low fifties. Rain struck hard last night at midnight. Bright blue skies now support the prowling sun and its sunlight cape. Stacked clouds lurk on the mountainous horizons. This is Satyrda, January 3, 2026.

As part of my daily morning routines, I answer several questions at Evidation. This includes how well I slept, my mood, and my stress levels. Although I slept well and my mood wants to be better, I feel stressed today.

I must turn first to news now, and politics. After the breaking news that the U.S. attacked Venezuela, that’s on the forefront of my worries. I’m disappointed but not surprised that Trump has chosen to start 2026 by escalating military activities. I’m angry but not surprised that Republican Congressional members are supporting this attack on another nation. We attacked them and kidnapped their president to bring him here, to the United States, to ‘stand trial’. Severe doubts that this will be a fair and just trial haunt me. In my mind, Trump is repeating mistakes of our past by pursuing violent regime change and destabilizing governments.

I’m not surprised. Not learning is a strong part of Trump and the GOP’s current operating position. They don’t want to learn about climate science and address change, pretend that tariffs are not a tax and that they’re not paid by U.S. consumers and won’t increase prices, and pretend that the medical science about vaccinations is not valid. They act like we as a nation haven’t been around for almost 250 years, dismissing alliances and lessons learned.

It is not accidental. The Heritage Foundation and other conservative have longed to drag us back into the 1800s. With a willing and eager Trump as their front man, they’re actively pursuing an agenda to do so.

In breaking news, Trump has announced “We are going to run the country until such time as we can do a safe, proper, and judicious transition.”

What a mess he’s created.

On the personal side, the women in my wife seemed to have gone to war. Mom and sis broke their fragile peace. Sis raged about Mom in texts to me, and Mom did the same. Mom insists that I not defend my sister, that Mom is grievously hurt, and Mom hates living in my sister’s home. At this point, I’ve stopped responding to texts, wearying of the ongoing arguments and drama.

Personally, I see it as a continuum: Mom’s aging and ongoing health challenges; stress, especially holiday-induced stress; their shared past and personality traits; and walking on frayed nerves. Each of the last three blowups have coincided with visitors and holiday moments. Mom can’t partake as she used to, and sis is acting as hostess, with her family visiting. Mom’s issues then distract sis and detract from the day’s spirit.

My wife is also raging and warring against several other people, frustrated by how things are going for her regarding different activities. That causes her to stress and vent, eat poorly, sleep poorly, and sours her mood. At least one event will be over in February but the fallout will probably take a few more months after that.

If 2026 is going to be a year of peace, it’s off to a wobbly start.

With this news, and those three women in mind, The Neurons’ song choice gave me a laugh. The cheeky monkeys chose “Take It Easy” by the Eagles for their morning mental music stream occupant.

Well, of course they did! The song’s beginning alludes to having “seven women on my mind”. A later line proclaims, “Well, I’m a-runnin’ down the road tryin to loosen my load, got a world of trouble on my mind.”

Imagery of those two lines perfectly describe the Venn diagram where my thoughts reside this morning, although not with seven women.

I fervently hope that peace and grace start making some rounds. I’d like to see peace and grace land hard on Donald Trump and the Heritage Foundation. Fingers crossed, peace and grace will also visit Mom, sis, and my wife. Likewise, may peace and grace visit you and your sore areas. Cheers

Wenzdaz Theme Music

It’s cold and cloudy in Ashland this morning. Our temperature went to 34 F about 8 PM last night. It’s still there. Stagnant air rules us today, Wenzda, December 31, 2025. Tepid sunshine squirms in past the clouds. With this sun and air combination, we expect high temperatures in the low 40s today.

Dad passed this morning in San Antonio, Texas. He was comfortable, as far as we know, and passed in his sleep, 92 years old, a veteran of Korea and Vietnam.

I received a text from Dad’s wife about his state yesterday afternoon. She said that he was in the last stages. I thanked her and then wrote a few texts to tell others. Afterward, I left my home office. As I did, I basically told Dad, goodbye, good luck, thanks, and I love you.

When I entered the adjacent room, a huge swirl of Dad energy swept around me. I was alone. Suddenly the room felt brighter and warmer. I sincerely and honestly felt Dad was with me.

It lasted about fifteen seconds and then left. I wondered if Dad had died but there weren’t any messages telling me of his death. I just smiled and accepted. Maybe as mystical and out there as it seems, my father and I made another connection just to say hello and goodbye one more time.

The hard part of Dad’s passing is done — getting the news and telling others, then accepting it. I’ll think and grieve for years, embedding his memory and life into my pantheon of existence.

The Neurons are playing “Flowers” by Miley Cyrus in the morning mental music stream. They made an interesting choice. I don’t understand it any better than I understand some of the dreams I had last night. That’s life.

I hope peace and grace come by your place and give you a hug. May the days ahead be gentle with you. Cheers

Twozdaz Theme Music

Twozda in Ashlandia finds us cold. Blue sky is in firm command. Sunlight washes over the valley.

It feels like something is broken or disconnected in the weather systems. The temperature is unfolding from 30 F. Alexa and online sources say we’ll get to 61 F today. I don’t know that they can be trusted. My systems and three other local systems all noted 29 to 31 degrees F temperature. At the same time, Alexa and online sites claimed our temperature was 40 F.

This is the same thing we went through several weeks ago; what we observed and felt locally is not what the national systems reported. Back in those weeks, we were steeped in cold fog while the national systems were trying to tell us it was sunny with some clouds. You can see why I’m not sure if we’ll get a high of 61 degrees.

No news has come from the Mom or Dad fronts. I had a long conversation with Dad’s wife yesterday. She related that after the fact, they conjecture Dad may have had a stroke, a-fib, or both. He had no idea how he ended up on the floor. Dad is doing very little talking or eating since that day. Only soft foods are permitted, such as eggs, apple sauce, and oatmeal. Swallowing those challenges him.

His wife says that he responds to voices. Though his eyes are closed, he’ll turn his head toward the speaker. She’s not sure if he recognizes her voice.

She also related that a few days before his fall, she discovered Dad had plotted to move away. He told her that he’d been on the phone with his other son and resolved the transportation issues and had identified all of his needs.

His son confirmed, yes, he and Dad were speaking about this almost every day. My brother was just going along with it to humor Dad; he certainly wasn’t going to help Dad move away. His part was just to indulge Dad because Dad was energetic and into the planning.

The revelations made me smile. I recognized Dad in that. He likes being in charge, making decisions, leading the way. He does not like having others take care of him. Making those plans were his way to stop from being a burden and getting back to being in charge.

Today’s theme music comes from a mental melange. Dreams, thinking, and headlines are all poured into this. Part of that thinking comes from Dad’s predicament.

Overviewing what was going on in my head, The Neurons placed “Wake Up Everybody” by Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes in the morning mental music stream. It’s a song I probably haven’t heard in years. It’s also possible I subconsciously heard it going on in the background somewhere.

I first learned of this song from my Black friends and co-workers. It wasn’t featured on the radio stations that I normally had on. Released in 1975, when I was a young airman in the U.S.A.F., I thought Teddy Pendergrass’s vocals put beautiful and heartfelt power to the words.

The opening lyrics were what I heard today but there was a little verse which I think about as I considered the world’s news and politics. Here they are.

Lyrics (h/t to AZLyrics.com)

Wake up, everybody, no more sleeping in bed
No more backward thinking, time for thinking ahead
The world has changed so very much from what it used to be
There’s so much hatred, war, and poverty, whoa, oh

The world won’t get no better
If we just let it be
The world won’t get no better
We gotta change it, yeah, just you and me

It’s quite the song of hope. It seems like we had more songs like this back in the last century. Moreover, we seemed to be moving toward them. No, it wasn’t straightforward, level progress but it did seem measurable. This century feels and appears very different to me.

Coffee has been served. My hope continues that peace and grace come by to give us all a lift. I know I would appreciate it.

Cheers

Mundaz Theme Music

The weather is better. Better is relative. 44 F here in Ashlandia, with expectations of a 56 degrees F high. Sunshine and blue sky are lording over Munda, December 29, 2025. Papi is happy that the rain has stopped, the sun is out, and the fog slunk away. We have instead picked up a stagnant air advisory. Yet, it’s windy. Papi dislikes wind more than anything. Fortunately, he’s older now and less interested in running out to challenge the day.

No updates on Dad. Mom updates are about her upset stomach. She and sis continue adjusting to living together. Each will flare in anger and accuse the other of being mean. These episodes seem shorter and less intense. My fingers are crossed that their relationship and situation will improve as we move into 2026.

I feel for Dad’s wife and her family. Dad’s been with them for over thirty years. He’s been generous, supportive, and loving with them. Watching him decline must be so painful and debilitating for them.

With Mom and Dad’s health problems, I find myself reviewing my health. My energy is up and I seem, from the outside, to be doing well as I slink toward 70. I’ve lost weight, exercise more these days, and have more energy.

Primary concern, though, is the one I spent the most time with: my wife. She and I have been a couple for over fifty years. She’s been struggling with her strength and movement. She doesn’t go to physicians. She just consults solutions on the Internet. I won’t try to reduce her complicated view of herself, health, and the healthcare system into more manageable chunks of understanding. She would insist that I have it wrong anyway!

She’s working on a fifty-year celebration for a friend. The friend, MB, has been a Y instructor for fifty years. Her low-level aerobics, strength and dance class is enormously popular. The Y recognized that MB is popular and that this is a milestone, and asked my wife to organize the celebration. They asked her because she’s the class’s social engine. My wife accepted. She enjoys doing these things.

My wife doesn’t handle stress or anxiety well, though. When either of those increase for her, her health takes a hit. Her eating and digestion goes; she grows stiffer, with less movement. Her stiffness and vulnerability to being physically cold increases.

Yes, she is always cold. She likes keeping our snug — the office — around 80 degrees. My hope is that she’ll get through this February celebration and get stronger and healthier. Meanwhile, my role is to be as supportive as I can.

The Neurons have decided that today’s song is “The Waiting”. The 1981 song is written and performed by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. From Petty’s point of view, the waiting was about the time before going on to perform. Observing me thinking about Dad, Mom, and my wife, The Neurons decided it would be a grand song for the morning mental music stream.

Chorus

The waiting is the hardest part
Every day you see one more card
You take it on faith, you take it to the heart
The waiting is the hardest part.

Yes, Tom, the waiting often seems like the hardest part.

I have my coffee to comfort me while I wait. Hope peace and grace comes by with a cuddle for all of us. Cheers

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