Category: memories

How Low Can Trump Go?

A WSJ story today conveys Trump offering things from a White House room full of Trump merchandise to a foreign delegation.

My first reaction was, of course he has a room in the White House full of stuff he wants to sell to make money. That’s all he really thinks about: how can I make myself more money? He’s such a broken toy.

But next, I thought, sure. Trump is giving his stuff away because he can’t sell it.

Third: Trump thinks this is normal for government officials to be offer things to sell on the Internet to make money.

In reactions to the story, one person wrote it best: “Just when you think he has hit rock bottom, Donald blasts 20 feet deeper.”

Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! fired up again now that the Freedom250 phase of it ended. OEL–S! is Trump’s continual efforts to distract us from his grifting, and how he’s corrupting democracy, and bankrupting the nation. Like a magician, he’s always utilizing ways to stop us from looking at one place too long, trying to weave a spell of confusion about what the hell he’s doing.

Trump isn’t as smart as he thinks he is. We always know what he’s doing, even when he tries hard to hide it, except for the MAGA faithful. They prefer to remain blind to it, even perversely cheering him on.

Freedom250 and the Great American State Fair are supposed to be celebrations of the nation’s beginnings. First, Trump has a decidedly skewered view of that. His ignorance of history is appalling, and that doesn’t seem to be an act. He honestly appears to be that uneducated and ignorant in that realm.

Second, Trump’s ego says, I must make it about me, so he does. Everything becomes about him, to the detriment of We the People.

In the latest OEL–S!, the United States is again attacking Iran. The Trump administration accuses Iran of violating the terms and declares punishment, doing so in the name of peace, of course.

Trump declared that the ceasefire is over. Bombing will commence again. Oil prices immediately rose. The stock market immediately dropped.

Meanwhile, Trump is backing the Freedom Fuel Network.

After chastising President Biden for high gas prices, Trump launched a war that sent gas prices rocketing upward. Now, he’s crowing about supporting 25 gas stations where gas is lower than the national average while remaining higher than what it was when Trump took office, back when it was just $3.12 a gallon.

I’ll tell you what: Trump is involved, so I’m suspicious about the foundation and future of Freedom Fuel Network. From my point of view, when a con is involved with a new business, it’s another con. My evidence on this is built upon evidence of:

  • Trump Shuttle
  • Trump Mortgage
  • Trump Steaks
  • Trump Bibles
  • Trump Plaza and Hotel
  • Trump Taj Mahal
  • Trump Mobile T1
  • Trump Castle/Trump Marina
  • Trump University
  • The Donald J. Trump Foundation
  • Trump Vodka
  • $TRUMP Memecoin
  • World Liberty Financial
  • Freedom250
  • the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool
  • Trump Sneakers
  • Epstein files
  • Iran War and ceasefire
  • and multiple other Trump promises and claims, like paying for sex with Stormy Daniels, then lying about it

How low can Trump go?

He’ll keep going lower until he’s finally passed away and lowered into the ground.

Then we’ll begin to learn the truth about how low Trump went.

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A Dad Leak Dream

There was a leak in the bathroom.

A thick tube of clear water spurted out of the wall. White tiles had been removed above the tub about five feet up. Oh, dear, what a mess, with some black fuzzy thing happening in the opening.

A trio of engineers, casually dressed, of different styles, heights, ages, one woman, two men, came in on behalf of the townhouse association. Because this wasn’t unique to this townhouse. It’d happened throughout the complex. This trio was going unit to unit to assess and strategize. I was just watching them from back by the door, listening as they ignored me. The spoke of how to fix it, what must be done.

Leaving, I headed across a common through sunshine to my own townhouse because, hey, that had been my father’s place, which slightly changed everything. He wasn’t there to look after it, so I was acting on his behalf.

I entered my own townhouse where the same problem existed but seemed to be on a much smaller scale. Some wall had been removed from the bathroom to the right which didn’t seem to have anything to do with the leak. I didn’t understand what that was about but I knew where to go for explanation.

I sought that women and this little rotund blonde explained something that kind of made sense and eased my anxieties. Going off again, I found I had a broken arm. No, not broken, just not working right. I’d been advised to keep it in a sling. I didn’t have a sling, so I fashioned one, and then modified it again and again, decided this was a good place to keep things, like my wallet, keys, and glasses.

So I tucked them in but then needed more material, so I added other things, and reshaped it, and reshaped it. People were going past as I did this and I turned away, trying to keep things private.

I decided to call my stepmother to tell her about Dad’s townhouse. Then I realized that Dad was dead and this was a dream. That I had actually a dream in a dream, and that the townhouse with the plumbing problem wasn’t real.

But I called my stepmother. I said, “I was thinking about Dad because it’s his birthday.” Then I realized, that’s not right. I said, “No, because it was my birthday.”

She was talking but it came to me, this call isn’t happening; it’s also a dream.

I awoke.

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Wednesday’s Theme Music — Round & Round

Ashland, southern Oregon — Wednesday, July 8, 2026.

It’s another sunny rocking morning. Cool at 69 degrees, which feels wonderful, with a friendly breeze carrying the heat off. We’re expected to pass 90 again today. My house saw 96 yesterday. Still, a dry heat and not so bad that it saps your ability to breathe. Does do a little damage to the will to move around, though.

Papi has staked out a cool spot in some plant shade, giving me a coolly level amber look before lowering his head and closing his eyes. He appears to be asleep in a second.

On the family news front, Mom’s home is moving through the selling stages without a hitch. My brother-in-law ended up with two stents and staying overnight in the hospital. The medicos said he was severely clogged. Reluctantly, I wasn’t overly surprised. Although energetic, slender, and athletic, he ate a lot of pizza, and a great deal of red meat, sausage, and bacon. Fingers crossed for him. He’s set to be released today. Round and round.

Catching up on the news, I wearily wonder, WTF is Trump doing now? How is he making himself look an idiot this time?

Well, earlier this week, he did it by interfering with the World Cup. He thinks he did a great thing. As others point out, whenever Trump touches something outside of his immediate circle, it fails. So it came to pass that the Trump touch brought on end to America’s World Cup hopes.

Now we see, oh, the war with Iran will begin again. Who is surprised with Trump ‘in command’? He’s declared it over. Done. Changes his objectives about why the war was begun. And here it goes, grinding on…again.

Prices will go up again. The long hot summer will get a little hotter, our optimism will fade a little more, and MAGA will shout “Praise him” once again. Don’t know if they actually do that. Seems like something in the MAGA wheelhouse.

Meanwhile, the Trump DOJ announced that Todd Blanche is a good Trump tool — such a great tool, the best tool ever! Everyone says so!

Blanche is busy delaying and obstructing, as a good Trump tool does, keeping the Epstein files from showing Bad Things About Trump. As if, again, We the People — with the exception of solid MAGAs and some GOP who would rather stab out their eyes than admit what they see — don’t see what Trump has done, who he is, and what he’s doing.

The horrendous, bloated Epstein ballroom remains under construction, despite the will of We the People.

So we come to the song inhabiting my morning mental music stream: “Spinning Wheel”. Blood, Sweat, and Tears released the song in 1969. I’ve always enjoyed how the song begins and builds, slyly, smoothly:

Lyrics

What goes up, must come down
Spinning wheel got to go round
Talkin’ ’bout your troubles, it’s a cryin’ sin
Ride a painted pony, let the spinning wheel spin

You got no money and you, you got no home
Spinning wheel, all alone
Talkin’ ’bout your troubles and you, you never learn
Ride a painted pony, let the spinning wheel turn

Did you find a directing sign on the straight and narrow highway?
Would you mind a reflecting sign?
Just let it shine within your mind
And show you the colors that are real

It’s such a perfect song for a summer day despoiled by Trump and his smirking arrogance. He doesn’t understand cause and effect, such as what his tariffs and broken trust has done to prices and trade. Trump likes to pretend it isn’t real — or, if it’s a problem, it’s someone else’s fault!

May the spinning wheel take you and yours to loftier places, where you’re safe, healthy, happy, and free.

Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music — Money for Nothing

Ashland, southern Oregon — Tuesday, July 7, 2026.

We’re expecting another warm one, low 90s, with dry air. It’s 73 now. Not getting very cool at night, and doesn’t stay cool long. But these are not bad conditions. Fingers crossed that thunderstorms don’t move in and start fires.

We received bad news yesterday. Feeling ill, my brother-in-law drove himself to the hospital. Bottom line, they admitted it because his enzymes were high and he seemed to be about to have a heart attack. He’s going through a catherization as we speak. I don’t know what was blocked or any percentages involved. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up with a stent or two. He’s a great guy, a few years younger than me, and deeply loves my sister. Hoping for the best for him.

Stories are circulating that Mitch McConnell is brain dead. His office is saying otherwise. His wife, Elaine Cho (edit – not Margaret, lol), went to China, which is totally and completely rational. Many people who rush out of the country when their partner is seriously ill.

Circumstantial evidence that McConnell isn’t doing well is rising. Social media accounts being deactivated. No one going in and out of their home. His office and staff aren’t returning calls.

The US is out of the World Cup. As I’m not a fan, I shrugged. Belgium eliminated the US and then mocked Trump in their victory by using his dance. Feels a bit like karma.

As part of the celebration of our freedom, democracy, and independence, a bunch of masked white supremacists marched around D.C. Nothing like old-fashioned racism and hatred to celebrate!

Realizing instantly that it’s bad optics, folks like Laura Ingraham immediately tried to pretend it was ‘Antifa’ faking everyone out. But at least one of the took their mask away and revealed the truth.

Sitting around a short time ago, I was on Bing and typed in, “How are food prices”. Bing responded with a list of facts about what’s going on with food prices in India.

I was like, India? Okay, I feel for them but why am I getting food prices for India? Wasn’t planning to shop there anytime soon. I asked Bing, “Why am I getting food prices for India?”

It responded with a laborious explanation about India exporting rice, and how that can affect prices. I replied, “But it didn’t tell me how prices are in the US.” It then told me how I can check prices in my area.

That just triggered my WTF meter to new levels. Being older than a teenager and a regular shopper, I already have a pretty good damn idea about how to find the prices in my area. I’m not impressed with Bing’s AI and search engine.

Today’s music is “Money for Nothing” by Dire Straits. The Neurons put it into the morning mental music stream as I was thinking about Trump. He’s made two billion dollars in his first year of his second term, basically by being there. And the nation picks up his golfing fees. So it’s all money for nothing and his golf for free for him.

In true Trump fashion, he made out but others riding his wave went under. His other businesses, Trump Phone and Trump shoes, are doing as well as Trump Steaks (2007), Trump University (2005-2010), and Trump Air (1989-1992). Even hawked by Lee Greenwood, Trump Bibles aren’t selling great, probably because of their impressive markup.

Trump Presidency (2025 to now) is making Trump much more money. That’s why he’s trying to game the mid-terms. Trump has never had a business that has done this well, making money for nothing.

As the song says, “That’s the way you do it. Let me tell you, them guys ain’t dumb. Maybe get a blister on your little finger. Maybe getting a blister on your thumb.”

Trump has perfected the art of getting money for nothing.

I hope you stay safe and healthy, wherever you are. Have the best day possible.

Cheers

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Cat Video

I saw this video on Youtube. This cat is wandering his routes. He talks to himself a lot, it seems. It also seems like he’s looking for someone or something in particular from the way he arrives at places and then says something. Like others, I thought he hurried a little when the police car cruised by and shifted closer to his left.

I like the video because Papi sometimes wanders and I worry, where’s he going, what’s he doing? Also, it’s funny to me that this cat is ‘chatty’. I’ve had several chatty cats in my life. Papi is not one of them. He’s more likely to just give a nod when you ask him something.

Hope you enjoy this as much as I did. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music —

Monday, July 6, 2026 — Ashland, southern Oregon.

Summer remains in full effect here. While it’s a pleasant, blue-sky 70 now, we expect 94 F to arrive before the sun curves out of sight.

Papi says, that’s okay. Let’s get something to eat, clean up, and take a nap.

With little surprise and total arrogance, Trump insisted on a huge fireworks display for the 4th. Per nature’s rules, that caused pollution which resulted in unhealthy air for We the People living and visiting there. The situation was made worse by the extreme heat the area is experiencing. Saturday’s temperature reached 103 degrees F that day. The extreme heat caused the pollution to linger.

I have “Cinnamon Girl” stuck in my morning mental music stream. It’s dream related. I had three dreams last night and one involved a woman with cinnamon-colored skin. With my wife, she and I were taken aback by the woman’s beautiful skin. She was petite, barely more than a girl. We saw her three times in the dream but never spoke with her. Instead, we would be walking through the throngs, look up and say, “Look, there’s the cinnamon girl.”

So, here is the song by Neil Young and Crazy Horse.

May happiness and joy fill your Monday and carry you into a brighter, better future.

Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music — the Craziest Thing

Ashland, southern Oregon — Sunday, July 5, 206.

It’s another hot summer day. Clouds are in the air and the temperature will be about 90 degrees, not nearly as life-threatening as so many others are enduring around the world.

We attended the Independence Day parade in Ashland yesterday. Very tepid. Low turnout to watch, low enthusiasm for the people marching by, dull interest in the music. The ‘flyby’ came about ten minutes after the parade ended.

It could all be me and my friends, of course, but I walked around to hear what others were saying. One young man pushing a stroller, a woman and another child with him, were all dressed in the national colors. “That wasn’t much,” he was saying, walking away. “Where should we go?

Trump broke more promises yesterday, of course. He said he was going to speak no matter what the weather, but then waited until it was cool, much later. That’s TACO for you. He also said he was going to speak for a very long time but spoke only 40 minutes. More TACO.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Trump was said to be talking about the crowd at the July 4th celebration. He thinks that crowd is “the craziest thing anyone’s ever seen.”

No, Trump, the craziest thing ever seen remains how much you lie and steal, and yet people keep saying how wonderful and great you are. That’s the craziest thing anyone’s ever seen in the last fifty years.

Trump promised a ‘golden age’ during his speech. I’ll tuck that promise in with these previous Trump promises:

We’ve seen the outcomes of these Trump promises. Trump has attacked several countries. He went to war with Iran. Inflation is still up and affordability is a hot issue for many people. Trump was frequently golfing during the war with Iran. Medicare has been cut. A new healthcare plan never emerged. Trump is still building the border wall; Mexico isn’t paying for it.

With MAGA’s unquenched love for Trump going strong, The Neurons unspooled “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” by Queen in the morning mental music stream.

I’ve read essays during the last few weeks about how Republicans have weaponized words like patriotism, woke, freedom, God, and religion. They essentially coopted and twisted these words and their meanings in the finest “1984” fashion. So while I use ‘love’ as a descriptor for what MAGAts hold for Trump, I’m not certain that it’s love in the sense that the rest of us employ it. If it is, it’s love in the sense of too many tortured relationships, where one is the abuser and the other is abused, yet the abused cannot quit the relationship. I know that I’m thinking of it from my side of the perspective, and not the abused MAGA position.

But how else can I think of it? Trump continually lies to them. He makes and breaks promises, just as it’s seen in many abusive relationships. Yet, they can’t quit him; they love him. They love him even though he made two billion dollars and did little to improve their lives, even as they struggle more and more with worsening conditions and deteriorating affordability.

So here we go: theme music for the MAGAts and Trump.

Hope your day brings you the best life you can live. May peace and grace smooth your way and take you on to better things.

Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music – Looking back

Ashland, southern Oregon — Saturday, July 4, 2026.

Today is Independence Day in the US, another bright day in my valley, destined to be 90 plus degrees F.

Fireworks aren’t permitted in Ashland. They are allowed in our county, so there’s a storm going on about buying fireworks right outside of city limits. People then come in and set them off.

I’m one of those against fireworks. We’re in the middle of a drought, and they terrorize animals and some people. Each year, I bring my cats in and ensure they’re in a safe place. Papi heads to the darkest and most secure space, the walk-in closet in our bedroom.

I understand that people like the colors and noises. We have other tech that can be subbed for this ancient technology. I know, though, that change is slow around traditions like these.

For me, Independence Day has a very special meaning. I met my wife just a short week before the holiday. I was fifteen and she was fourteen. My father, then in the Air Force, was stationed at DESC, just outside of Wright-Patterson AFB in Ohio. I went to live with him after some run-ins with my stepfather.

Dad and my future father-in-law were good friends. Dad worked for him part time years before when stationed at Wright-Pat, trying to make extra money. When Dad returned after assignments in Vietnam, Germany, Iceland, and Turkey, they renewed their friendship.

I met my FIL, Jim, in May that year, 1971, on a fishing/camping trip. Then I met his wife and daughters in June. That was just a short drop by, though. It was on July 4th that my wife and I ‘really’ met.

Dad had given me an old watch after he bought a new one. I wore that all the time. Back when I met her and my wife and I were getting to know one another on July 4th, she asked me about my birthday. As it happens, it’s on July 5th.

My wife asked if she could see my watch. Then she refused to return it. She waited until after the fireworks. She waited until midnight. Then she presented my watch as a gift and told me, “Happy birthday.”

I lost the watch a long time ago, but I cherish her and the memory.

Today’s song is “Tiny Dancer” by Elton John. For the last twenty plus years while living in Ashland, we go to a friend’s house along the parade route to watch our town’s 4th of July parade. It’s a brunch potluck. Our host used to be our neighbor across the street here; when her husband passed away over a dozen years ago, she moved into a small cottage behind her daughter’s house. It’s our daughter’s house where we and about fifty other people congregate and celebrate.

Our host, though, is Barb, the neighbor from across the street, a sweet and charming but small 96-year-old woman. Her husband told me that he met his wife when she was a teenager. She was studying dance, already in college, and he was at college and walking, when he saw her alone on the bridge, dancing, late on afternoon. He didn’t know who she was but he knew he wanted to know her. Since hearing that story, I often call Barb “Tiny Dancer”. And that’s why the song is in the morning mental music stream.

I have you have a wonderful day, whether you’re celebrating the holiday in the US or elsewhere, or just enjoying life in another nation. I hope it gives you memories that make you smile, and comes with memories about what happened before, and full of people who help make your life a better place.

Cheers

1

Friday’s Theme Music – Pretending

Ashland, southern Oregon — Friday, July 3, 2026.

Hot is the word for today. 90 is our expected high. It’s sunny but windy, with a blue sky coping with several blue clouds.

It’s funny to me how Papi awakens me every morning at about 5:50. Today was a little later, 5:57. I wonder about the little clock in his head. More correctly, it seems to be a stomach alarm. “More food, please, hurry.” Which I do. Which he probably wouldn’t ask for if this habit hadn’t been established. Which came about with previous cats and my work schedule. Some things endure change. *smile*

I was looking at the area weather statistics for June. Although we ended on a cool streak, we were 2.5 degrees above average for the month. There were no days when we exactly hit the average.

My body, mind, and spirit feel very strong today. Thank you to everyone who took time to send me positive energy. Send it to others now more in need, please, as I’m doing good.

There’s no escaping Trump today. He’s encountered most days in this era, lying, gloating, boasting, mocking, demeaning. Too often, there’s an announcement accompanied by his smirking visage, and I just respond, ugh.

We have the terrible circumstances that a wealthy man interested only in himself ‘leading’ the government as we celebrate our nation’s beginnings. It feels like a low point. Yes, we’ve been polarized and demoralized before as a country. There have been scandals like Watergate, Contragate, Teapot Dome. There’s been crises like the Cuba Missiles Crises, and so many, many wars. Disasters were endured; pandemics. Assassinations. I didn’t live through many of these and rely on reports others made. I’m living through this, though, and I don’t like it.

What is funny is how fast and consistently MAGA pivots to cover Trump. They embrace his explanations and excuses, ignore his broken promises, and dismiss his lies and convictions in court as meaningless. As they depress me, I turn further and further away from their concerns…

In many ways, I think MAGAts are pretending that Trump speaks for them. They’re pretending that life under him is what they voted for and wanted. They pretend that he’s not misleading them, dismissing them, forgetting them as he grows wealthier and they often grow poorer. Weaker. Sicker.

The real question is, how will they feel when Trump is gone and their situation is not better for any of them except the wealthy? Who will they blame? Where will they turn?

As Trump is already ranked at or near the bottom of historic ratings, I believe that the Trump Era will gain a place in our nation’s history as a dark, low time.

With those of pretending populating my thoughts, The Neurons cranked up “Pretending” in the morning mental music stream. Eric Clapton wrote and recorded it but Jerry Lynn Williams wrote it. With lines like these, it feels right for this Trumpishly diminished day:

“How many times must we tell the tale? How many times must we fall? Living in lost memory you just recall.”

“That’s when I knew she was pretending. Pretending to understand.”

May you find joy and peace in your hours today, happiness in your night, and love in your heart.

Coffee is at hand again. Time to write. Cheers

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