Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I’m working through tendrils of a new day, a new month, and a new year. Not much of it taxes me yet, but we’re only nine hours into it in Ashland.
Winter continues its weather games. Today, Thirstda, January 1, 2026, brings rain and a leaden, swollen sky. Winds whisper, howl, and moan. Temperatures around town reportedly range of 46 degrees F to 53. My house says it’s 51. Today’s high will be…51.
I posted news of Dad’s passing on Facebook and heard from many, including military peers, corporation co-workers, fellow writers-in-struggling, and friends on other continents. Comfort and thankfulness rose in me for so many taking the time from their lives to comment.
I’ve accepted Dad’s death on at least the surface. Flashes of not being able to speak or visit with him slide like gentle waves through my thoughts. Some tears fell yesterday. Today, I’m remembering him with fondness, chuckling and laughing at memories of how he smiled, laughed, and spoke.
As for the new year and month, I’m uncertain of what to expect. Last year was a ride on a cantankerous bear. Too many Trump and GOP actions dismayed my core. That core holds beliefs that We the People are supposed to have a voice in our government; that laws will be followed and enforced; that everyone is equal and deserves freedom and respect. Actions such as Trump’s rants about hoaxes, fake news, Democratic scum, and ICE rounding up people without due process all undermine my hopes.
I’ll continue voting, protesting, and writing about how Trump is conducting business. And I’ll keep trying to nurture hope and optimism that we’ll see a shift toward my hopeful vision of progress and democracy.
Here’s today’s music: “God Gave Rock and Roll to You”. The 1973 song was written by Russ Ballard. Ballard was in Argent at the time, so Argent performed and released it.
I suspect The Neurons planted the song in the morning mental music stream because I was thinking about working hard on the novel-in-progress, and the need to keep editing it. The song reflects those sentiments on one stanza:
Lyrics (h/t to Genius.com)
If you wanna be a singer or play guitar
Man, you’ve gotta sweat, or you won’t get far
‘Cause it’s never too late to work nine to five
And if you’re young, then you’ll never be old
Music can make your dreams unfold
How good it feels to be alive
Coffee is served again. May peace and grace find you and guide you along a hopeful path in the new year. Cheers
Through the year
We did stumble,
Doing weary chores
With a soft-voiced grumble.
Peeking through doors,
Working through days,
Of laughing, sighing,
And weary, changing ways.
Sometimes we shouted,
And sometimes shed tears,
Wondering how it would end,
This long, most miserable of years.
Now we sit
On another cusp,
Wondering,
What the next months
Will deliver to us?
We make promises and vow
To create changes that stay,
But will we be happier
Twelve months from this day?
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 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.
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
In under-reported news, I discovered that Trump found Sasquatch. He posted a text about it, but the fake news didn’t cover it, probably because they hate him so much.
“It wasn’t hard to find him,” Trump wrote. “Turned out he’s a nice guy, a great guy. So smart, amazingly smart. We talked about thirty minutes. Then he told me, ‘Sir, you’re the first person I’ve ever encountered who just wanted to talk to me. I am so honored to meet you.’”
Trump said he later received a text from Sasquatch on Truth Social, inviting Trump to publicize the meeting. Trump wrote, “I told Footy – that’s what I call him, Footy, because some people call him Big Foot. He does have big feet, really big feet. I don’t call him Big Foot. Because that’s rude, that’s a rude thing to say, a terrible thing to say. So I call him Footy. I told Footy, you have an open invitation to visit me any time, anywhere, day or night. My door’s always open to you.”
Trump also visited Area 51 last week. Area 51 is a top secret military facility where all the aliens who have come to Earth are kept.
Trump reported that he met several aliens.
“Good looking little guys. All green, with big black eyes. Nice guys, great guys, so smart, amazingly smart. We talked about thirty minutes, me and three of them, four of them. They told me, ‘Sir, you’re the first person we’ve ever met who just wanted to talk to us. We are so honored to meet you.’ The aliens told me that they’ve been trying to go public, trying to get out of the secure area, but that Democrat scum wouldn’t let them out. I told them, ‘Don’t worry, little guys, I’ll get you out. I promise you, I’ll get you out. If anyone can get you out, it’s me. I’m better at getting people out than anyone in history. I’ve gotten more people out than anyone else ever has, huge numbers, huge. More numbers than you can imagine. It’s just amazing what I’ve been able to do.”
Continuing his amazing streak, Trump said that he went to Ireland and hunted down some Leprechauns.
In an interview, Trump said, “Good looking little guys. Dressed in green. Nice guys, great guys, so smart, so amazingly smart. We talked about thirty minutes, two, three of them, and me.
“They told me, ‘Sir, you’re the first person we’ve ever met who didn’t try to take our pot of gold.’ They had the pot of gold just sitting there. I noticed it, big, beautiful pot of shiny gold, most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I noticed it. How can I not notice something that beautiful? But it’s gold. I’m the wealthiest person in the world. You know that, right? I’m the wealthiest person in the world. First person in the world worth a gazillion dollars. That’s me. The first one. What do I need with more gold? I don’t. I already have most of the gold in the world. I have like 90, 99 percent of it. There’s a little bit I don’t have, but not much, not much. The Leprechauns told me, ‘Sir, go ahead and take our gold. We know you’ll put it to good use.’
“So I took it. I took their gold. Not because I need it but because they invited me to take it. Why shouldn’t I take it? Who wouldn’t take it? It’s not really that much gold. I already have more gold than I know what to do with. I’ve been melting it down, making things out of it. You should see the things I make. Beautiful stuff, beautiful. I show it to people when they visit. I show them all my beautiful gold things that I made. Pens and stuff. Shoes. Computer disks, whatever I see, coffee mugs, razors, stuff like that. Underwear. I’m wearing gold underwear now, did you know that? Gold speedos. Speedos made out of gold. So comfortable, amazingly comfortable. You should wear them. That’s why I walk the way I do. That’s why my posture is so good. My posture is perfect. You’ve probably noticed it. It’s perfect. It’s the gold underwear, the gold speedo. Of course, you have to have the right body to wear gold underwear. You can really only wear it right if you’re perfectly built, like me.
“I also make more practical things. Guns. Bullets. Knives. Golf clubs. I have so much gold, I don’t care. People tell me, ‘Sir, it’s amazing what you do with gold. You truly have the Midas touch. You should put this on display. People would pay to see it.’
“But I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to put that stuff on display. I’m too modest. If I wasn’t so modest, I’d probably get more credit for all the great things I’ve already done, and the great things I’m going to do. I’m not like Sleepy Joe Biden, always going around LYING ABOUT WHAT HE DID. That’s not me. That’s why I don’t get enough credit. That’s why I didn’t win the Nobel Peace Prize. Didn’t win the Pulzer Prize, either, what’s it called? The one they give for books? Yeah, the Pulzer. I should’ve won that, too. I’ve written so many amazing books. Beautiful books. I always put them under other people’s names. But they’re like, number one on all the lists. They’re the best-selling books of all times. But I don’t tell anyone that I wrote them. I just write them for fun. I don’t need the money. What do I need with more money? I’m the richest man in the world. Only person in the world worth ten bazillion dollars, did you know that? No, you don’t know that, because nobody gives me credit for how rich I am. That’s because they all hate me. I don’t know why. I think it’s because they’re so jealous of me because I’m so rich and successful. What do you think? Think that might be why they hate me?”
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
Michael Seidel, writer 