

Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not

Ashland, Oregon — Sunday, March 1, 2026. It’s raining and foggy in Ashland, with temperatures tottering around 50 degrees F. Not a shred of sunshine out there, and a high of 57 is expected. Spring is muscling in.
It’s a day of questioning for me, starting with what’s going on with Mom to what’s going on in the world and the nation.
I learned yesterday that another sister — our youngest — had been going to visit Mom, taking her things, etc. The youngest has been designated as our contact with Mom because she has the best relationship of everyone living nearby. I reached out to her to see how Mom was doing.
The youngest related that when she arrived, Mom was playing bingo with five or six others at a table and apparently laughing and having fun. Mom told the youngest that she’d gone to church, which she enjoyed, and seemed pretty content and happy.
After wheeling Mom back to Mom’s room, the youngest found clothes all over Mom’s area. Mom complained she didn’t have hangers. Sis pointed out that they’re in the closet, and told her, you need to look, and helped Mom tidy.
Then, though, today, Mom asked the youngest to bring her cookies — “Anything but chocolate chip.” Oatmeal raisin cookies were brought, which made Mom mad. She then gave my sister ‘mean faces’ and quit speaking with her. The youngest rolled Mom to the dining room so she could eat, and then left.
The youngest sister also related that Mom’s roomie is 95 years old with congestive heart failure and two ‘bad shoulders’. She had a hospice aid visiting. My sister suggested that maybe we should get Mom a hospice aid. That took me back, because there’s nothing indicated to me at this point that Mom is ready for hospice.
It’s just as troubling and confusing elsewhere in the world. Trump ordered the U.S. to attack Iran, a joint operation with Israel, “Operation Epic Fury”. While Iran’s supreme leader was killed, Iran retaliated. Americans were killed and injured. More critically, is this the opening that will explode the area into another war? Trump and his advisors seem to think in terms of gunship diplomacy and regime change.
Trump — the peace president, a self-made assertion that has Orwell laughing in his grave — said that the attack was to protect Americans. “Our objective is to defend the American people by eliminating imminent threats from the Iranian regime,” Trump said in prerecorded remarks posted on White House social media accounts early Saturday morning.”
Back in 2011, Trump said President Obama would start a war with Iran. “Our president will start a war with Iran because he has absolutely no ability to negotiate. He’s weak and he’s ineffective.”
Who is weak and ineffective now, Trump?
Protests in Baghdad broke out, with “Death to Israel, death to America,” being shouted. This smacks of the 1970s and 1980s, so it sickens me that we seem to be going into another war spiral. I hope to hell that’s not true.
As I sat with that information, news arrived of a mass shooting in Austin, Texas. Next came updated information about deaths in Iran where 85 are reported killed: “The majority of the dead are schoolgirls aged between seven and 12 years old, according to the regime-controlled news outlets Tasnim and Fars.”
Senseless killing, once again. I expect anger and hatred in Iran to rise in response. This is exactly where we were before, using violence and killing to win hearts and minds. It did not work then; I don’t expect it to work now.
BTW, remember when Trump vowed no more wars when he campaigned? Guess that promise meant as much as Mexico paying for the wall and lower food and energy prices.
The song in my morning mental music stream came when I first looked out the windows, before reading any news. “Rainy Night in Georgia” came out in 1970. The Neurons put it in there when I thought, “Another rainy day in Ashland.” I didn’t remember who performed the song and looked it up to learn it was Brook Benton.
I call again for peace and grace to find its way to us, and maybe it will someday. Right now, it feels less likely than it did last week. But things will change. It’s really just question of how and why.
Cheers

Thursday, February 26, 2026. Today is 02262026, February’s final Thursday. Two more days and February of 2026 will be history.
Ashland finds itself encased in fog with temperatures ranging from 39 F to 45 and a high in the mid-fifties called for once again.
Texts regarding Mom were non-existent today. Some suggest this is the quiet before the next storm. I agree, that’s probably true. I think Mom will again try to return home, insisting that she can live without anyone else there. All we can do is wait and see at this point.
Results for my comprehensive metabolic panel and tests for Hep B came back with no abnormal findings or Hep B indicators, a major change from the last CMP, done right before my gallbladder was removed last November.
I met with friends for beers last night. Someone turned to the conversation to Iran and the U.S. military buildup. Specifically, it was asked, what are the odds that Trump will order bombing to being in the next 30 days?
Four broad suggestions emerged from the conversation.
That last was in response to the recent news that Cuba shot and killed four Americans in a speedboat in Cuba’s territorial waters. Cuba said that the Americans fired first. Trump’s response will be interesting, as he tends to strike to get revenge for American deaths, doing so with a heavy hand.
For music, The Neurons plugged King Crimson into the morning mental music stream. I’m hearing “21st Century Schizoid Man”, a real callback to my youth. The song was released when I was a teenager. Its intensity captivated me, and that intensity feels owned today. I had a terrific writing/editing day yesterday — best since my oral surgery weeks earlier this month.
I last used this song seven years ago. One commented that they’d never heard of it; two others cited the group and album as a favorite but mentioned that they didn’t like this song.
I hope you have safe and productive Thursday and can groove toward the weekend with new hope.
Cheers
If I come and visit
Will you know my face
Will you talk to me
Like your son
Or lace your words with hate
Will your texts ever change
From anger and demands
Will you stand and hug me
As you kiss my head
Can we sit and laugh
Remembering what we ate
Playing games of Tripoli
Hoping for a good hand
Or will you stare
Not speaking
Leaving me
In silence
Ashland, Oregon — Wednesday, February 25, 2026. Rainy, 46 F, the day is calm, shiny wet, and gray with a forecast high of 55 F.
Family text messages were almost nonexistent, except for one from sis. Mom has signed the paperwork to remain in the assisted living center for March. Her money is running out, though, so this is another stage of development. Now we wait to see what will unfold.
After checking in on Mom and my sisters, I read Trump’s State of the Union. Trump went into sales mode, framing some facts as being historically great. Chances are, when checked against actual documentation, the claims won’t hold. In a way, this is like radio or television ads making great claims about their product or service but then adds some very fast speech and texts about warnings and exceptions. Trump left the warnings off, though.
I didn’t listen to Trump’s speech. Reading the transcript is draining. He makes such gross exaggerations, grabbing credit when he is due none. Like the Olympic games coming to the United States. Other people worked hard, long hours to make the games come to Los Angeles, and a committee selected LA. Trump glosses over their work as though those individuals did nothing, that it was all due to him.
In the end, it was a typical Trump speech of selling how great everything is, how wonderful he is, how terrible Democrats are. Inside his bubble, he probably thinks it’s all true. His base will respond and love it. Military force, USA, USA! And that Biden! But I’m sure more FAFO is on the way for them.
All this ended up with U2 singing “One” in the morning mental music stream. The Neurons began with the opening lyrics:
Lyrics
Is it getting better?
Or do you feel the same?
Will it make it easier on you now?
You got someone to blame?
[Bridge]
You say love is a temple, love a higher law
Love is a temple, love the higher law
You ask me to enter, but then you make me crawl
And I can’t be holding on to what you got
When all you got is hurt
Let’s hope that we come together to build something better for all of us, where we can co-exist with other views without thinking of them as an enemy. In other words, a place with peace and grace.
Donald Trump is scheduled to give a State of the Union address to a joint session of Congress tonight. This is an opportunity for him to tout what he’s done and shape messaging ahead of this year’s midterm elections.
It comes at an interesting time. As trends now go, Trump’s popularity is falling. At least 31 Republicans in Congress announced that they’ll retire instead of vying for re-election.
I expect Trump to brag about wars he ended or stopped. I think he’ll talk about how great he thinks the economy is, perhaps even mention beating affordability — a Democratic hoax in his mind — and ‘ending inflation’.
Trump seems to fantasize about what he’s doing, dreaming up a result, then acting like it’s reality. To me, that’s exactly what the video he made of himself as a hockey player winning an Olympic gold medal is all about, along with the video he made before as a superhero.
This also explains why Trump is so terrified of the Epstein files being released that he keeps trying to stall, redact, and distract from it. Like his taxes, the Epstein file will reveal a truth that Trump hides, dashing his fantasies about who he is.
It’s funny, too, in a very sad way. The hockey team won a gold medal as a team. Trump sees himself as achieving success while being part of a team, but never actually acts as a team player.
What I would like to see from Trump’s State of the Union address is an announcement that he’s resigning. I’d him to say he’s retiring from the public eye and, paraphrasing Spiro Agnew, we won’t have Trump to kick around any more.
Since I’m fantasizing this, I think I’ll treat it as reality. It’s a done deal.
And as Trump might say, it’s the most beautiful thing ever.
Ashland, Oregon — Tuesday, February 24, 2026. February is winding down. The NFL ended its season and the Olympics ended. Rain pours from a flat gray sky. Mists swallow the mountains and the temperature hums along at 51 toward a possible high of 52 F.
The east coast’s blizzard stuns me with its strength, size, and the amount of snow. What staggering levels. I hope that all stay safe and recovery is quick and painless. Fingers crossed as I think that.
The weather doesn’t overly bother Papi. He goes out and stays under a protected area, sniffing, grooming, ears tuning. The wind isn’t blowing. Sunshine is absent so he comes in, finds his chair, commences his orange fur grooming.
I wade through the morning texts and muddle through the morning routines, eager to move on to other matters. I’m not looking forward to Trump’s State of the Union address at all. In my mind, the question will not be, will he lie? It’s a matter of how large the lies are, and how often he repeats them.
Looking back on news from the last few days, many positive reactions were seen when the Supreme Court struck down Trump’s use of one law to impose tariffs. Trump cursed and accused others of being ungrateful to him and then launched more tariffs under other laws. Markets spiraled down and trade partners reconsidered their position with the U.S. But Trump presses on.
I can only recall the snipper of one small dream last night. A woman was giving me a handful of silver change. I thought we were exchanging change and protest, laughing, she was giving me too much. But she insisted, “No, here, this is all for you.” I was like, what am I going to do with all this change?
Wakening, though, I thought about all the change going on and smiled at the messages my subconscious seems to be sending.
The Neurons have “Ordinary World” by Duran Duran playing in the morning mental music stream. Specific lyrics hooked me.
Lyrics h/t AZLyrics.com
Papers in the roadside
Tell of suffering and greed
Fear today, forgot tomorrow
Ooh, here beside the news
Of holy war and holy need
Ours is just a little sorrowed talk
(Just blown away)
And I don’t cry for yesterday
There’s an ordinary world
Somehow I have to find
And as I try to make my way
To the ordinary world
I will learn to survive
The 1992 was written and recorded in the face of lingering low morale among the band’s members. Simon Le Bon’s built lyrics around “ordinary world” and a desire to regain a familiar and comfortable reality. I certainly get where they’re coming from.
I hope you survive and grow through this ordinary world and become happier and healthier. I’ll try to do the same, starting with a little coffee and a little writing.
Cheers
In the last few months, a parent, stepparent, and two friends died. Last week, Mom threatened suicide and is now in a nursing home at 91.
Mom used to light up when I came through her door. She always wanted to feed me. Her cooking was excellent – especially her potato salad and spaghetti and meatballs.
She loved playing games, especially cards. She always told me that she enjoyed how I made her laugh.
Thinking of her made me remember others. Grandpa Paul passed in 1976, age 65. Multiple uncles and cousins followed, and a half dozen friends made during my military service.
I mostly remember their laughter and the fun of being with them.
That brings me joy.
Of all that was endured, it’s the laughter and fun which remains.