Category: memories

Wenzda’s Theme Music

Sunshine and blue skies are beckoning me out in Ashlandia today. Supposed to be 78 F today, but it’s gonna have to climb from its current 52 F. Feels like the local weather has it in it to do so, though.

This is Wenzda, May 21, 2025. May is splitting past me faster than forked lightening. I’m astonished by its speed. They tell me that time goes faster for you as you age. If I reach 80, I’m be blinking away in the morning and getting ready for bed at the same time. Maybe it’ll just feel like it is.

I’m in a very good mood today. Don’t know what nutrition and hormones and factors out of my dream network and thinking network brought me to this zenith of eagerness and satisfaction. It’s a periodic thing, though. I wrote almost the same words not a few months ago. How the world seems like it’s getting thrown into the garbage disposal and the water is on and the switch is about to be thrown, taking many good things down the drain and into the past. I hear of Trump’s “Big Beautiful Bill” and I just want to puke with disgust and anger, yet here I am, with high spirits and happiness. Probably a high from editing myself. Reading the novel again to fix what’s wrong, I’m happy and pleased. I wrote what I like to read, and I’m enjoying it. Just like that, it’s all about me. Really is a surreal existence.

Today’s music is a ZZ Top cover. Isaac Hayes and Dave Porter wrote it. Sam and Dave recorded and released it. Then along came ZZ Top with their version of “I Thank You.” I do like ZZ’s version best; it just better suits my sensibilities. Why the song has settled into my morning mental music stream is only The Neurons to know. I’ve been reading about recent research on dreams and how they’re made. I was interested because I dream a lot. They speculate now that it’s a network working together using many more functions than originally guessed, and not housed in one specific place, like the hippocampi. Reading that, I wondered if some similar network worked to produce the songs that land in my morning mental music stream.

Going to the music, I’ll give you Sam and Dave and ZZ Top’s offerings, because we all don’t have the same musical tastebuds. Both are terrific.

Coffee is lifting me higher. I’m ready for another day, at least for the moment. Hope you have a great one. Here we go.

Cheers

1

Sunda’s Wandering Thoughts

I wonder if they’ll ‘reboot’ the James Bond movies by re-making them.

Will there be a female or trans 007? I know a Black 007 has been discussed.

Oh, sorry, I remember that Casino Royale was considered a reboot, and that several subsequent movies have been called ‘reboots’. I don’t get that. Guess what I was/am thinking about are ‘remakes’. Will they remake, for example, Goldfinger?

Wonder what other films could be remadeand how they would be changed? Would anyone dare touch The African Queen, Citizen Kane, Gone With the Wind, or The Godfather?

I watched the first Murderbot on Apple. I was disappointed but I seem to be in a minority. I never heard/saw Murderbot as a male, and the character’s dry disparaging humor seems to be absent. Well, IMO.

2

Sunda’s Theme Music

Rain took its drops and went elsewhere. Though clouds stayed, sunshine rushed in. A swirly, restless day was had. Hot in direct sun, chilly in shadow when the wind played. We did see 66 F at our house. Now it’s dropping, expecting to stoop to the 40s overnight. Tomorrow, we’ll do it again.

For the record, this is Sunda, Mai 18, 2025.

I’ve been busy all day. This was the culmination of a cleaning project. Ashlandia and Recology were taking in trash and electronics free of charge this weekend at the transfer station. This inspired my wife and I to declare we’ll do some cleanup and rid ourselves of unused and broken old items. Beginning Twosda, I pulled, cleaned, inspected, and decided on what to do with stuff which we’d accumulated and didn’t seem to be using. I consulted with my wife as necessary. Like, we have three big boxes of china. It’s a formal dinnerware setting for twelve, acquired in Germany over a period fro 1988 to 1991. We’ve probably used them a half dozen times, and not any time in the last decade. Much of it was awarded to me as prizes in monthly, quarterly, and annual competitions at a base or specific units. Mikasa was one of the sponsors and would often give gift certificates. My wife used ones I won to buy china. No, we didn’t pitch the china. We put it aside to give to a friend who will take it to a charity boutique. A few times a year they have a big sale and include things like china. Proceeds help offset people’s cost for hospice.

My wife’s health kept her sidelined during Operation Cleanup. But I enjoyed the solitary work. While I put in a couple hours every day after writing, today was the load up and drop off. The SUV was backed up and configured. Loading began at 10:15. By 11:30, I was ready for the dump trip. I hit the line at 11:45 and inched the vehicle to the gate at 12:30. They directed me to trash and electronics, which covered my contributions. By 1 PM, I was back home.

Then I cleaned clean the car and reconfigured its seating and all that, and cleaned the garage and rearranged things to be more organized and take advantage of the cleared space. I just finished that at 6 PM. I sweated a few buckets today, and my feet are singing about their unhappiness like a bunch of hounds with the blues. I’m taking advantage of this time to post before I make my dinner.

Today’s song turned out to be “On A Carousel” by the Hollies. They released it in the 1960s. It’s a song about love and the up and down ride you’re on when you’re in love. I was using it to think about Trump. We’re going around and around with him as he whines about the judicial system and courts, ignores the Constitution, threatens anyone who disagrees with him, and then acts like an idiot who mated a jackass. Guess that would be a idioass or a jackiot. Did you hear about him and his video where he’s supposed to be playing “Don’t Stop Believin'” by Journey in concert? His connections with reality frays more every hour. His supporters don’s seem much better. Guess they’re holding on to their dreams.

Time to call it. Hope you had a good one. Cheers

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PINs & Passwords

PINs and passwords are integral to first world life. Friends and I discussed how we manage our passwords and PINs. All that caused me to think and smile.

There’s an article out there about ‘things our children wouldn’t know about’ because whatever it was is now obsolete. Telephone party lines, rolodexes, TV ‘rabbit ears’ and outdoor antennas, carbon copy or carbon paper, and those sort of things. I was thinking of the reverse mode, and how astonished our children might be that we had no PINs and passwords when I was growing up in the 1950s to mid-1970s. We never had to figure out and remember a magical combination of letters, numbers and ‘special characters’ to get in and out of our online accounts. Number one, we didn’t have online accounts. We lacked the Internet and home computers. Now, there’s a PIN to learn to use a bathroom. Another PIN to access my voice mail. A different PIN to use my credit card, depending on the card reader, and to withdraw money.

I wonder, though, how many years it’ll be until the next generation is amused with our tales of PINs & Passwords and our explanations for how they were used.

4

A Prime Update

I posted this morning about last night’s problem accessing and viewing streaming television via Prime on my Roku. Yes, and I uninstalled and re-installed, and researched.

‘lo, I came home and acted on a whim to see if Prime now worked.

Yep.

They — Roku, Prime, or others — fixed something last night. All that I did was probably for naught. If I had more patience, it probably would have resolved itself today. But I couldn’t resist trying to fix it.

In the Air Force, we used to refer to problems like these on our C130s as a Lockheed fix. That’s a problem that ‘seems’ to take care of itself. After, you know, we worry about it for a while.

1

Fleece Me Up,Scottie

My oldest item on me would usually be my underwear or socks. My wife shamed me into buying new underwear.

“What would your mother say about this?” My wife was holding up a pair of my boxers.

“I always wear clean underwear,” I answered. “That’s all Mom worried about.”

My wife put fingers through holes. “She wouldn’t be bothered by these holes?”

“It’s enough material. Come on, it’s underwear.”

After pressure like that, I examined my undies with a more critical eye. Sure the elastic wouldn’t hold them up any longer. And parts of them were as sheer as honeymoon negligee. Yes, my wife had a point. The underwear was purchased before we moved here. That was in 2005. I think I had them before we moved to Half Moon Bay, in 1999. So new boxers were purchased. It wasn’t easy. Materials have changed, etc. That’s a whole different tale.

As for my socks, I now wear *shudder* compression socks. Every friggin’ day. They are not old.

We come at last to the oldest thing on me: my gray pullover fleece. It’s a quarter zip. I purchased it for $20 in May of 2001 at the Stanford Shopping Center. I know these details because Mom was visiting and I was starting a new job at another startup, Internet Security Systems.

My wife and I had been married over 25 years then. Mom had never visited us at any of our homes. True, she lived in Pittsburgh, PA, and we’d never lived closer than 300 miles. That was with our first duty assignment at Wright-Patterson AFB, just outside of Dayton, Ohio. For eight of those years of marriage, we were outside of the United States. And on three more years, I was alone overseas.

So, I bought a ticket for Mom, and she was there. She took a photo of our black cat, a long-haired rescue we’d named Sammy. Sammy had been left behind on military base housing. We took him in and discovered that he was a beautiful, sweet, intelligent kitty. Mom happened to take a photo of him while he was on the patio enjoying sunshine. She spent a week with us and then went home. Two days later, we rushed Sammy to the vet, where he died, cause unknown. I was wearing my gray fleece that day.

That big old cat loved that fleece. He liked to climb inside it while I was wearing it. Nestling against my belly and completely out of sight, he’d purr himself to sleep. Then he’d start snoring. My wife always laughed because it was like my belly was snoring. In an aside, a few years later, we moved again. Another rescue cat joined our household. Like Sammy, she liked crawling up under the fleece, curling up against me to nap inside my garment, while it was on me. I think Sammy would have approved.

I always remember Sammy when I don this old fleece. Even if it’s for doing yard work, as it was today. And when I do, I always smile.

2

Frida’s Theme Music

Frida, Mai 16, 2025, has evolved as warmer and cloudier in Ashlandia. Noon has slipped past. The temperature has incremented to 67 F degrees and follows a trajectory to lick 71 F. Pervasive sunshine has everyone reaching for sunglasses. Papi, the ginger blade, went to the back early and settled into a sunny spot for a needed nap. A swirly day, sometimes I find myself sweating in full, still sunshine. Moments later, wind muscles in and goose bumps rise from its chill.

As we watch Trumpivision, it’s clear he hit the Mideast trial to cover the gaps his tariffs and behavior generated. After treaties and agreements were trampled underfoot by Trump, China and European allies cancelled aircraft deals and turned off shipping as part of a slowdown generated by broken trust, high prices, and tit-for-tat. Trump’s team said, “Hit the mideast. They’ll buy the stuff the rest of the world is turning their backs on.” This is an extension of the Trump Regime’s willingness to sell access to Trump. It’s cash register diplomacy at its worse.

While there, Trump gave speeches which fortified impressions that he’s aging and his mind is going. Coupled with his shallow thinking, greed, and standard rants about how badly he’s treated, it was an ugly spectacle.

Today’s music comes from encouragement from self to self to get up and start doing things. I often tell myself at those moments, time to rock and roll. The Neurons instantly hoisted Led Zeppelin’s classic offering, “Rock and Roll”, into the morning mental music stream. I found a video I enjoyed of the song being performed live. This was during a Foo Fighters concert. Dave Grohl, the band’s leader, founder, and usual vocalist, took to the drums, a position he held with Nirvana. The drummer, the late Taylor Hawkins, took up the mic. Guest performers from Led Zeppelin, Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones, joined them. Pretty fun concert presentation, if you ask me.

I’m already in the coffee shop, indulging my daily writing and coffee fixes. I spoke with a barista about the strike held the other day. She told me the article about it was shared on the business’s Facebook page. “You wouldn’t believe the hateful comments that have been made,” she said. “I had to remind myself that I’m an employee and not respond to them.” I expressed my support for what they were doing, adding, “Those haters can go to hell.”

Time to keep rockin’. Cheers

0

I Might Just Be Bossy

I believe I am a leader. But then, I’m biased. I could just be full of myself. Arrogant. Too ignorant to realize that I’m not a leader, that others are blowing smoke when they tell me, or when they told me, I was a leader.

From my perspective, I’ve always been a ‘big-picture’ person. I like organization and decisiveness. I like decisions to be made quickly. I despise people and organizations who dither while trying to create a perfect plan, a perfect solution. No plans or solutions are perfect. But then, most of it can be modified later. Sometimes the modification will be harder.

That’s the way it goes.

I have been in formal positions of leaderships for several teams, in the military, in startup businesses, and in the Fortune 500 world. In surveys and assessments, I was identified as ‘authoritarian’.

That startled me the first time. I try to be inclusive. Try to coach up by inviting my team members to participate in decision making. But then, a decision is needed. I’ll ask them to vote. It seemed like many people did not want to vote, worrying that they’d make a mistake or reveal themselves in some way that they found uncomfortable. I don’t know. I’m guessing.

I already knew that I would make mistakes. That happens. Mistakes are good, as long as people aren’t hurt, killed, or traumatized. That’s part of the equation when decisions are made. Safety first. Almost always. But not necessarily always. Prioritization is and was needed about what is going on. The other facet of that is, learn from your mistakes. Internalize them and avoid repeating them.

And I have been criticized for assuming leadership. People asked, “Who put you in charge?” Fair enough. I don’t care. Who is in charge? What are we doing? Is there a plan? What’s the objective? Why are we all standing (or sitting) around doing nothing?

There was once an adhoc project established in the command section of a military unit. I walked in and was ‘volunteered’ to be part of it. I was a senior NCO at that point. Inside were several junior NCOs and junior-grade officers. One NCO later told me that a captain said, “Master Sergeant Seidel is joining us.”

And another said, “Oh, good. He’ll organize us and make a plan.”

Because that’s just who the hell I am. A bossy guy.

4

Thirstda’s Theme Music

Mai is about to flip to its second half.

It’s Thirstda, Mai 15, 2025. The weather flipped last night as a cold front jumped into the Ashlandia area. Gone is the rain. Blue sky and sunshine fill the vacated space. That translates to a cold but clear night and day, but one that gives the sun permission to warm us. 68 F is our suspected high for the day. For now, it’s 55 F.

Papi has mixed feelings about it. He’s, “No rain, yea!” But, “Cold air, boo, hiss.” Then he adds, “Sunshine, yea!” He searches for a warm and sunny spot in the backyard. Then he comes into the house and yells for treats and attention. He’s such a sweet-chirping cute floof, our wills melt like ice cubes in hot coffee, and we do as he requests.

Starbucks, where I usually write, was closed yesterday. I found out this morning that it was due to a strike. I support them. They can strike as much as needed to gain contracts and improve their conditions. Meantime, we have other coffee shops in Ashlandia. I went to Roco and staked out a place and did my writing thing, as needed.

Another coffee shop is across the street from Starbucks. I like their products but their space doesn’t work for my writing needs. They supported the SB strikers by giving them coffee. How cool is that?

Today’s music is an old favorite by the late Gary Moore. Seeing sunshine and blue skies, The Neurons fed the song, “Still Got the Blues (for You)” into my morning mental music scene. Yes, despite better weather, the blues still weigh me down. Part of this is due to Mom. She’s become such a bitter and angry person that nobody wants to spend any time with her. She can’t see her own part in her isolation, instead blaming everyone else. I believe she needs counseling to help her deal with longtime issues. She fixates on things and never lets anything go. Her history of what happened when is at huge odds with everyone else involved. Suggesting she needs therapy, though, just sends her into a greater rage and accusations that everybody hates her.

Other part of the blues is all about the political thing. It’s amazing that progress begun over two hundred years ago is getting shredded by one megalomaniac backed by right wingers. That they’re quite willing to do whatever is necessary to break down the foundations of individual freedoms and democracy to gain power for themselves, including wreck the world economy and the planet’s environment. Empathy is not in their wheelhouse. Lust for greed and power dominates their intentions. So, yeah, I’ve got the blues.

Despite the blues, I have plans. They begin with coffee. I can check that off my list of things to do for today. Have the best day you can. Cheers

7

Grayda’s Theme Music

Wenzda, Mai 14, 2025, is Grayda in Ashland. Gray hangs over us with gravity’s weight. Sunshine comes in and leaves quick. No rain is expected, but neither was Grayda. This is Ashlandia. We’re supposed to be basking in warmth. It has risen to 56 F. 61 F is on the menu. All these gray clouds do something to my mood. Their impact is much different if its over a crashing sea, but that scene is a coupla hundred miles away.

Today’s tune was brought to me by nature. Nature; when you want the very best.

I was out looking for pollinators. My wife and I are down. “I’ve seen one fat bumble bee,” she said, “and one dragonfly, and a looper, but that’s not really a butterfly. So I haven’t seen any butterflies.”

I recounted my count: two bees, no dragonflies, butterflies, wasps, hornets, or hummingbirds. Even the birds are frequenting our area less. We’re used to being a buzzbox of activity. This non-activity disconcerts and worries us.

Papi was with me during my pollinator watch. “Where are the butterflies?” I asked him. He rolled around on his back on the patio cement, his eyes scrunched closed and his paws working the air.

A dog barked. Papi flipped over and studied the area, his ears finetuning themselves to the dog’s position. Not in the backyard, which is fenced. And it wasn’t either of his mortal enemies, the dog to the east, or the wicked dog to the north, Cowdog.

And then, “Dog & Butterfly” by Heart started in the morning mental music stream. The Neurons’ thinking was clear in this instance. That’s often rare so I appreciated the linear clarity.

“I’m going back in, Papi,” I said. Papi yawned and stretched. A jay came to the yard and conversed. I closed the door on the scene.

Ann Wilson said about “Dog & Butterfly”, “This, like a log of songs, came from something iteral and changed to something more poetic. I was upstairs in my music room waiting for my muse. It doesn’t always happen on cue but, in hindsight, it did this time. I looked out of my window and saw the dog chasing a butterfly. He wouldn’t give up; he just kept chasing that butterfly. I thought it was impossible, yet he kept on going. The chase took on another meaning for me. Like so much in life, the spirit is undaunted, you keep going after it.

“Many people have said that it is that thought in this song that has helped them through rough times. When they’re up against the wall I life, thy could refer back to it and keep going.

“Nancy (Wilson) and I, as Heart, were new at the time in 1978 or so, and this became our personal theme song as well. Now if we don’t play it in our set, people are disappointed.” h/t to Wikipedia.org.

I think it’s a good day to help push through graydas. Sometimes these days in Trumpland feel gray and heavy despite the sunshine. I turn to music to help get through. Do what’s needed, without doing yourself harm.

Coffee has been consumed. Here we go again. Three…two…one…

Hey, the sun’s out. Things are looking up again.

Cheers

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