We went to Lake of the Woods Resort last night. The agenda was to dance, socialize, have fun, and unwind.
It worked as intended. Twenty-seven miles away up in the nearby mountains, we arrived in forty-five minutes. The smoke had retreated. Surrounded by tall trees, on the edge of blue water, the picturesque scene was fresh and sigh-inducing. Saucy was the band. They played pop, rock, and disco, like “Lady Marmalade”, “Rebel Yell”, “Life in the Fast Lane”, “Shut up and Dance”, “Bring Me to Life”, and “Honky Tonk Woman”. We ate barbecue meats with potato salad, cole slaw, and mac & cheese.
But the star was this little five-year-old in a red shirt. Up there on the steps to the stage, they entertained with Freddie Mercury and Elton John moves interspersed with inspiring air-guitar solos. Yet, the old man in me couldn’t help but think about the damage they were doing to their young ears, standing in front of a rock band’s amplifiers.
News stories scan make me blanch. Yes, of course there are feel-good Olympic stories. News outlets thrive on those. They sell clicks and papers and increase viewership. People want to feel good about the world. They don’t want to read of a school bombed in Gaza City with nearly 100 killed. And they want to turn away from the Trumpstorm that is the 2024 GOP campaign. Weird describes their candidates and also describes some of the base, but what describes the rest?
Baby formula recalls, Venezuela, Elon Musk, X.
Here, we’re dealing with wildfires and smoke pollution. Wildfires are being fought not just all over Oregon but California, Wyoming, Washington, Idaho, Colorado…that’s just the tip.
This is Saturday, August 10, 2024. There are less than 90 days until the elections.
It’s 62 F. We’ll see our average and usual high today, 92 F. Good. The air is low moderate again, and I can see the mountains and blue skies today.
A dancing outing is planned for Lake of the Woods Resort. The air is checked. Not good. Discussions are engaged: should we still go?
Time to start a new theme week. The idea of going out dancing brought up a bunch of songs for The Neurons, so that’s this week’s theme: dancing. One of their favorites, now circulating the morning mental music stream (Trademark burning) is a 1983 fast-tempo beat by the Pointer Sisters called “Neutron Dance”. Point of order for The Neurons: this is not “Neuron Dance”. Yes, that is how they hear the lyrics, but that doesn’t change the truth.
Though coming out of the techno 1980s, it’s a song for the current era. Themes like homelessness — “The rent is due, I got no place to stay.” Weariness: “It’s hard to say just how some things never change and it’s hard to find any strength to draw the line.”
don’t wanna take it anymore I’ll just stay here locked behind the door Just no time to stop and get away ‘Cause I work so hard to make it every day
[Chorus] And it’s hard to say Just how some things never change And it’s hard to find Any strength to draw the line Oh, I’m just burnin’ doin’ the neutron dance (Ah, ah, ah) I’m just burnin’ doin’ the neutron dance
[Refrain] Whoo-ooh (Whoo-ooh) I’m on fire, yeah I’m on fire, yeah
[Chorus] And it’s hard to say Just how some things never change And it’s hard to find Any strength to draw the line Oh, I’m just burnin’ doin’ the neutron dance (Ah, ah, ah) I’m just burnin’ doin’ the neutron dance
Let’s all sing it and dance. h/t to Genius.com for the lyrics. Easier to copy than typing them all out.
Stay positive — I now, I’m one to speak — be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue. Coffee and I have met up on a drink day. Here’s the video. Cheers
Our weather is continuing its pattern in Ashlandia. High today of 92 to 95 F. This is our average temp for the month. Smoke is up, stinging nostrils, bit of a bloody nose, congestd nose and sinuses, turning my throat into aching parchment. It’s 69 F now on this Friday, August 9, 2024. The air quality is moderate, ’bout 83 in my zone. There is an unhealthy air advistory out for us. It was s’posed to expire this morning but it’s been extended until tonight. Still, better than having a raging fire actually in town. And the air is good enough in my area that some windows are open a few inches. I know from observations and experience, the bad air is out in front of us, to the west. East, and north (today), is delivering decent air. It’s about the vegetation and topography.
We continue to check on a friend who just disappeared. He has health issues; so does his wife. He does have children and grands in the area, so he might be with them. He was taken off by EMTs one afternoon, and that’s the last he was seen by friends and neighbors. They haven’t seen him where he volunteers. Haven’t heard from him. The car is gone, no one answers the phone or emails, or the door. It’s been a pensive month looking for a news update on him. He’s always been very private so we’re hopeful that he’s okay but just keeping to himself and fam.
Today’s theme music goes with a free variation. The Neurons have Queen with “I Want to Break Free” alternating with Neil Young with “Rockin’ in the Free World” playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark taxing). I can’t choose so I’ll go with both.
Both songs are from the 1980s and established rockers. “I Want to Break Free” was released in ’84. The music video caused a social storm in the U.S. because, oh, no, cross dressing. *gasp*. There’s a small but vocal group of Puritanical Americans who always react with hand-wringing and gasps, and hisses, “Oh, the children, think of the children.” Yeay, I’m channeling some Southpark.
Although this is a love song of sorts, we have those apt opening lines for Trump and the MAGAts:
I want to break free I want to break free I want to break free from your lies You’re so self-satisfied, I don’t need you I’ve got to break free God knows, God knows I want to break free
“Rockin’ in the Free World” was released in 1989. I initially thought it was in response to George Bush becoming POTUS but later learned, no, it was because planned concerts to the U.S.S.R. were canceled, apparently because the Soviets said, “Nyet.” As for its lines, they are poignantly political (h/t to Genius.com):
That’s America and our overall priorities: guns and wars, consumer goods and driving.
Stay positive, be free, and remain strong. Vote Blue in 2024. Here is my coffee, here is my cup, part my lips and drink it down. Here are the videos. Let’s rock.
Thursday has trundled in, soft of foot and full of grace, delivering smoke in our space, and pleasing night air on our face.
It’s Thursday, 8/8/24, or 24/8/8.
Our smoke has risen into the unhealthy zone. Don’t know which fire is our source. We have many to select from. None too close but valleys channel it in. It looks like crap out there. Can’t see the mountains for the smoke, and the blue sky has been squirted into smoggy tones. 65 F outside my house today, we’re expecting a thirty degree rise to the high. No wind is blowing, so a sort of still deadness rules. I expect zombies to start emerging from the smoke at any moment.
We’ve been spoiled by the peaches acquired at the growers market in the last two visits. Both times we returned with the sweetest, tastiest, most perfectly ripe peaches. Sooo juicy. The blackberries were found wanting. Plump and juicy, yes, but only one out of four is sweet. We’re of the school that blacberries should be sweet and not sour, and the sour blackberries aren’t sitting well on my tongue. Besides those fruits, we picked up green onions — my wife is a fiend for ’em — and greens. Good stuff: local and organic. Non-GMO.
I posted something about Gov Walz the other day. A right wing friend commented, “He put tampons in the boys room.” I reacted, oh, no! How terrible! How tragic! Must cost billions of dollars. Such a waste, such a waste.
Well, no, I didn’t write all that. I thought it. I wasn’t going to write it because the issue doesn’t deserve any oxygen. As Joey from Friends said, “It’s something a cow would say. It’s a moo point.”
My wife has an ongoing thing with spiders in the bath. I use the shower stall, so this doesn’t involve me, but whenever she heads to the tub, she must clear out several spiders. We don’t kill spiders and these are all of the daddy longlegs variations. She plugs up the drain with a cloth to keep them from climbing up through there and removes them by means of a rolled, stiff piece of paper. She calls this her spider catcher. It’s actually an old invoice for blinds. We pulled it out a month ago to see when we purchased our blinds. It hasn’t been refiled because it’s now my wife’s spider catcher. She gives me a summary — “There were three spiders in there. I don’t know they’re coming from. They seem to get stuck. Stupid spiders. I move them and they go right back in there.”
With freedom still my theme this week, The Neurons are channeling Bread’s 1971 song, “Mother Freedom” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark discounted). My older sister had this album so I knew the song. I met my wife later that year. Her sister had the album on 8-track and regularly played it. It’s tres fam. God song for freedom week, though.
Freedom, keep walkin’ Keep on your toesand don’t stop talkin’ ’bout Freedom, get goin’ Lots to be learned and lots to be known ’bout People gotta reach ’em Sit ’em right down and then you gotta teach ’em ’bout Freedom, gotta win it Gotta put yourself smack dab in it
Hey tomorrow Now don’t you go away ‘Cause freedom Just might come your way
Freedom, keep tryin’ People stay alive and people keep dyin’ for Freedom, so don’t lose it Ya gotta understand ya just can’t abuse it Freedom, get movin’ Never gonna stop till everybody’s groovin’ on Love for – one another Callin’ some friend and callin’ some brother
Just 89 days until the elections. Stay fresh, be strong, and remain postive. Vote Blue. Coffee has found its way into a cup and on into my systems, so all systems are go. Here’s the music video. Cheers
We’re in the middle of the week — Wednesday — and on August’s 7th day in 2024.
Ashlandia’s air is clear this morning — praise be! That makes the cats happy. They were already pleased to sign the flooftition endorsing Gov. Walz to be Vice President of the United States, and are purring over the idea of a Kamala Harris administration.
Yesterday, we saw the temperatures go from 93 F in the late afternoon to 58 this morning. We’re in the mid sixties now under spot free blue skies, and we’ll be churning up to 97 F.
I’m still on the freedom theme. The Neurons have popped Richie Havens playing “Freedom” at Woodstock in 1969 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark still free). I heard this when I was thirteen and the intensity made me pause and listen more closely. And afterward, there’s a release, just a *whew* and a half minute of thoughtful silence about what was heard. The song still strikes me that way today.
I’d like to let freedom roll over us like a good long blast of fresh cold mountain air.
Stay positive and be strong. Lean forward and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has been brewed up. Here’s the video. Cheers
My wife related that she and her coffee group were talking about their required high school reading.
There’s a background to this. They go to StoneRidge Coffee in downtown Ashand after exercising at the Y three mornings a week. Their favorite barista, Shawn (sp?), had been on a big reading kick, reading many novels that we consider classics, like Catch 22 and Catcher in the Rye. Today he announced that he won’t be working there any longer because he’ll be teaching high school in Grants Pass. My wife’s group wondered if that’s why he’d been on a reading tear.
They couldn’t remember what they’d read in high school, though. They did recall that they had to read The Pearl by Steinbeck and several of Shakespeare’s plays. The only one they remembered reading was Romeo & Juliet.
After being told this, I recalled reading MacBeth and Hamlet. I also recalled reading The Red Badge of Courage,Beowulf, Call of the Wild, excerpts out of Dante’s Infernal (as we knew it in school) and The Red Pony. I mentioned that what I most remembered reading, though, were short stories. I vividly remember reading A Jury of Her Peers, The Girls at the A&P, The Visitor, Greenleaf, and The Lottery. They each made quite an impression on me. Besides that, there was some Emily Dickinson, Edgar Allan Poe, and then poems by Frost and Whitman, and essays out of Walden: Life in the Woods.
It’s all a bit sketch, though. Because I enjoyed reading fiction on my own and read Catch 22 and Catcher in the Rye.Papillion was big as a novel then — this was before the movie — as was the Lord of the Rings trilogy and The Hobbit, and Stranger in a Strange Land. Besides that stuff, I was reading a lot of science fiction and fantasy, along with spy thrillers (think Fleming and Le Carre). Then there was Jaws by Peter Benchley, and other popular fiction like that, such as Fear of Flying, Portnoy’s Complaint,In Cold Blood, The Onion Field, To Kill A Mockingbird, The Bell Jar, The Drifters, Centennial, The Thorn Birds, Hotel, Airport, The World According to Garp, Cancer Ward, and Herzog.
I was also involved with the Junior Great Books program for several years, and was required to read their books, stories, and essays, muddying up memory a little more. Further complicating it are courses in French, Russian, Jewish, and American literature in college.
All those books and titles start running together after a while, you know? At least for me. I admire those who can keep it all straight.
It’s hump day in Ashlandia, which translates to Wednesday, July 24, 2024. Just seven days left in the month so finish up your Christmas shopping if you haven’t already done so.
Ah, smoke from the Diamond Lake complex continues to plague us. Our air quality is moderate now but a warning as been issued for our breathing, again. Temps won’t be bad. It’s cloudy and 70 F with beliefs that our high will stop at 95 F.
Well, I must say that I was against President Biden dropping out at this late stage in the race. I felt doing so would throw the Democratic Party into disarray and hand Trump a fractured nation victory. But my gosh, there was such a surge of hopeful energy when Joe stepped down and announced he was endorsing his Veep, Kamala Harris. It’s a startling metamorphosis. Suddenly we had someone younger. That meant that the one thing Trump had going for him in his campaign against Biden was gone.
I know the MAGAts won’t be moved from their Trump position. They’re living in a world where we can’t touch them with truth, logic, nor facts. So, they’re written off from the getgo. And there is a smaller number who hedge because Vice President Kamala Harris is female and not white. Some are trying on the meme that she’s too inexperienced, too. That reeks of such bullshit — especially when comparing her to the great mango hope — that those attacks fall flat every time.
Of course, the GOP under Trump has little substance. They’re all gimmicks and underhanded tactics. Who was surprised when they immediately tried the impeachment process on VP Harris? Not anyone familiar with the gang who can’t think straight. I sort of laughed yesterday while reading a NYTimes article. Yes, I know, it is the New Yawk Times and their diminishing brand of lame bothsiderism journalism, so I was dubious of the article. It was something something Trump is leaning toward populism again, their reasoning being that he chose Vance as his Veep, and Vance is anti-corporation. Huge guffaws all around. The guest essay also went on to talk about the lack of a party platform. Like, yeah, no shit, this is the new GOP Trump brand. They just shout, “Trump! He’s the second coming! Greeeaattt business man! Celebrity! Tells us like it is (just pay no attention to the lies)! Stolen election! Hillary! Lock her up!” Now, they also add, because of the shooting, “He’s been saved by God!” Then they get the vapors and swooonnnn.
Anyway, that GOP is in such disarray. The Dems, meanwhile, are surging strong brothers and sisters. They have a solid progressive. Sure, there are so weak spots. There usually will be. But. Those who want a female in the White House are energized. Those who didn’t want an old Biden are energized. Those shouting “Anyone but Trump!” are energized. And Vice President Harris has gone out there and put out a fiery, galvanizing speech. She’s a former prosecutor and attorney general. She knows how to think and articulate. Let’s go, Kamala.
It’s looking good, brothers and sisters, knock on wood, fingers tightly crossed, breath held.
Today’s music is a deliberate choice.Jerry Miller of Moby Grape passed away, so I pulled an old MG song, “Hey Grandma”, from sometime in the 1960s. MG’s brand of psychedlic pop rock spoke to my youthful sensibilities, starting that band name, Moby Grape. They really seemed like something special when I first heard them and will always have a special place in memory.
Stay positive — lord knows, I’m trying — be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has been swallowed; here’s the music. Cheers
Get up and look out windows, judging the air’s color. Doesn’t look too bad. Some tinges of smok. A window is cracked opened. The sniff test is employed. Doesn’t smell too bad. The air feels cold.
I go on out into the living area and office, interrogate Alexa and checking my weather station, and then go online and check weather and air quality. It’s 64, and the AQI is in the sixties, not too bad. Doors and windows are opened and complaining floofs are released.
It’s Tuesday, July 23, 2024. Today’s high will be 96 F, so we’re not too bad. It’s the triple digit stuff that really gets to you.
My wife departs to meet some friends at the Growers Market. Yeah, they don’t use an apostrophe. Sirens erupt. Systems are checked to see, where are they going? What’s going on? I printed out the evacuation checklist yesterday. You know, just in guess. It’s sitting here beside me. We always have basic bags ready but maybe we should prepare the whole shebang. Just in case. It’s hot and dry here. Lightning can strike and ignite something without warning. Something to consider.
Out in the news world, it’s no surprise that the Secret Service Director resigned. They were being hounded and the GOP was openly, sharply hostile. That’s their style.
A headline says, “World registers hottest day ever recorded on July 21”. Wasn’t that hot here in Ashlandia. We seem to be contrarians. The article goes on, “Last year saw four days in a row break the record, from July 3 through July 6, as climate change, driven by the burning of fossil fuels, drove extreme heat across the Northern Hemisphere.
Every month since June 2023 – 13 months in a row – has now ranked as the planet’s hottest since records began, compared with the corresponding month in previous years, Copernicus said.
Some scientists have suggested 2024 could outrank 2023 as the hottest year since records began, as climate change and the El Nino natural weather phenomenon — which ended in April — have pushed temperatures ever higher this year.
I imagine Republicans pooh-poohing the news and laughing. In this visual, it’s my staunch BIL MAGAt representing them. “It’s the weather,” he says loudly, shrugging, gesturing with his hands. “It’s always changing. It gets hot, it gets cold, big deal. You liberals.”
Yeah, we liberals are worrying about nothing except the increase in record temperatures — high and lows — and the acceleration of extreme weather. We’re worried about increased flooding and wildfires turning the air dark with smoke. We’re worried about increasing extended droughts and melting glaciers.
Tsk. So silly of us.
The music occupying my morning mental music stream (Trademark iffy) owes its presence to my wife. She was online, surfing. “Oh, I like that,” she says.
I do my spousal duty. “What is it?”
“This tee shirt. It says, I am woman, watch me vote.”
“Yes, that’s good.”
The Neurons pounced. I am woman, hear me roar, in numbers too big to ignore, begins. “I Am Woman”. Helen Reddy. 1971. As I often do with celebrities I haven’t heard or seen in a while, I verify her life status. Died in 2020, 78 years old. No cause of death given.
This is life in the digital age.
The song took on its own life as a anthem of female empowerment back in that last century, when the U.S. was becoming a more progressive nation. I was present at a rally in Caifornia when the female protestors spontaneously sang it A capella. Powerful moment down on Market Street in SF.
The house is cool. Thermostat says it’s 76 F inside. Feels good. I go around closing windows, sealing in the cool air for the day.
Be strong, stay positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has endorsed my systems. I’m ready to rock. Here’s the music. Cheers
Didn’t get too cool last night. Was only supposed to reach 99 F yesterday but my place saw almost 103 and then the heat hung around long after the sun said adios. Today, Sunday, July 14, 2014, I see clouds in the western sky. 73 F now in my zone, the heat is expected to push the mercury (or digital mercury) to 96 F.
Just finished the breakfast ritual. For a long time, I ate oatmeal, serving it up with fruit and walnuts mixed in. The fruit was mostly blueberries but blackberries were sometimes subbed. Once in a while, strawberries, peaches, or nectarines were installed on the menu. A few years ago, I switched to bagels. I nuke them to warm them and then butter them up. Fresh fruit has been added. Today, I had a kumquat. Then three plump blackberries. A dozen fat blueberries followed, and then a prune, several almonds, and a small slice of watermelon. The fruit varies, depending on what’s in season and what’s bought.
Now, doesn’t it feel good know what I had for breakfast? No, I’m sure it wasn’t at all interesting to you except for you to mutter, why is he writing this? Just a whim.
Today’s music began as “Richard Cory” by Simon & Garfunkel. But even as I protested, I did that song earlier this year, and then asked The Neurons why that song was in the morning mental music stream (Trademark stretched), the song changed to “Find Your Way Back” by Jefferson Starship. I had an idea of why it was there; I’d read of a hope that a coalition of Democrats will find their way back and support President Biden in his re-election and carry us to victory in November. But then —
*dramatic pause*
Papi finished his brekkie and wandered in for some attention. As he sat beside me on the ground, permitting me to bestow needed skritches around his ears, chin, and neck, he stopped proceedings to move aside and scratch an itch. Naturally, I said, “Scratch that itch,” in the same style as it’s sung in Devo’s hit song, “Whip It” from 1980. The Neurons latched onto that like a newborn taking to a nipple, so it’s now the song occupying my mental regions.
Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Also, enjoy a healthy breakfast. Coffee is being finished. Here’s the music video. Cheers
I’ve been working on my home HVAC system. The AC did not kick on when needed two weeks ago. Playing around with the system, the fan didn’t come on, the heat didn’t turn on, the air conditioner did not engage.
After tracing wiring and troubleshooting, I drew down on the stepdown transformer. The board wasn’t getting energy. The board’s fuse was intact, all circuit breakers and switches in the proper locations, etc., but the board’s diagnostic light was dark. I thought I’d accurately followed all the steps that led to the transformer but replacing it did nothing.
That leaves me at a circuit in the road. Call in a pro or keep at it myself. I’m reluctantly inclined to bring in a pro but my inner idiot (I2, also sometimes referred to as I squared) is saying, “No, mate, don’t give up, you got this.” That aligns with my overall philosophy that to succeed, failure must be risked and overcome.
My wife seems inclined to let me continue. Although we have high heat, she’s been using an electric fan and shrugging it off. That reminded me that we’ve existed without AC before. Both of us grew up in homes deprived of having AC. Early duty stations in the military included Randolph AFB, Texas, outside of San Antonio. I remember us enduring a string of days over 100 degrees F. Our military homes on Okinawa and our home in Germany also didn’t have AC.
So, you know, we can survive without the air conditioning if we’re prudent and thoughtful. It is a nicety we’d like to have but we don’t find it overly necessary. As far as fixing the AC, I’ll get with my wife and talk it over.
Michael Seidel, writer 