Category: memories

Thirstdaz Theme Music

I pulled the curtains open on our final Monroeville morning. The Neurons sang, “It’s raining, it’s pouring, the old man is snoring.”

Yes, rain annoints Thirstda, October 30, 2025. The temp is warmer, though, 46 F. Temp is expected to leap to 48 F. Back in Ashlandia, on the nation’s left coast, 62 F is expected as a high.

Mom is doing well, although stress fractures are starting to appear among her caretakers. Sis and her family are shouldering most of that with help from the other two sisters. But Mom’s care is an almost constant thing as she calls for help, drops things, needs to use the bathroom, needs help dressing, needs her bedding changed and washed, etc. Home health assistance is again being addressed. I think it’s needed but Mom is adamant against strangers helping her. It’ll take time for her to accept that it must be done.

Oh, that Trump. The man who wants the Nobel Peace Prize also thinks the world needs more nukes. He wants to resume nuclear testing. We continue to trudge deeper into Trump’s upside-down reality, just as written in 1984. Meanwhile, experts familiar with how nuclear testing is conducted points out that it’s not done by Defense, but the Department of Energy. Many of those officials needed in nuclear testing were…drum roll…furloughed or fired by Trump and DOGE as part of their efficiency drive. What maroons. The experts also note that it takes several years to fire up nuclear testing programs, and that Trump seems to be fact-flawed reasoning for the need for testing. Like, yeah, when does Trump use facts? Of course he’s employing flawed thinking. That’s who and what he demonstrably is: a flawed thinker, unless it’s way to get attention and make more money for himself.

Pretty funny, too. Trump gave his visit with South Korea a 12 out of ten (there’s that math genius!) while South Korea was like, yeah, it was very pleasant. Reminds me of a blind date where one thinks marriage is in the future and the other is ready to move on.

The Neurons have plugged “That’s All” by Genesis into the morning mental music stream. The Neurons attribute the song to Trump and his continual lying and bullshit, the pass which the press mostly grants him on his garbage talk, the unflinching adulation from MAGA, and the cover the GOP provides him. Part of the lyrics of “That’s All” go, “It’s always the same, it’s just a shame, that’s all. I could say day and you’d say night. Tell me it’s black when I know it’s white. Always the same, it’s just a shame, and that’s all.”

Hope light finds peace and grace and guides them back to us. Well, that’s all. Cheers

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Wenzdaz Theme Music

Clouds mar Monroeville’s autumnal setting. Wenzda, October 29, 2025, is surging across the land. Cars grunt with acceleration down at the intersection, punctuating the 38 F air with flat blats of vehicle noise. Last day here; tomorrow we head home.

Visited with Mom yesterday, and she was in classic elderly Mom mode, telling stories with sharp-mind clarity although, as was her younger habit but veering into lateral paths from time to time, a pattern she has passed on to me. We met with a realtor about selling the house. Sis is lead tiger on that project, with inputs from the rest. The three local sisters are circling this project, as they’re local. Reasonable, right? Disappointed with the initial selling price suggestions, they are interviewing another realtor. I usually interview three before going with one, so I have no problem with doing that. Although the qualifier is that this first realtor is a friend of one sister and sold her the last house that sister lives in. With the Trump economy throwing up all over certainty and the future, home purchases in this area have quickly declined. The realtor said it looks like it’ll be slow for this quarter and the next.

I’m heading to Mom’s to search out papers. I figure I should just box them up and convey them to Mom’s new place where they can be reviewed in comfort as needed, instead of dispatching one of us to ‘find them’ at the old house.

Today’s music is dream related. As I reflected on the dream, in which I was dealing with many famous people but also trying to invent a new game, The Neurons came up with The Police, “Message In A Bottle”, in the morning mental music stream. I don’t get the connection…

May peace and grace be with you and me and all in between, if they ever get off their duff and come see us, that is. Here we go. Cheers

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Mundaz Theme Music

October 27, 2025, has ambushed us, lowering another Munda on us with a soft sigh. Autumn weather is rampant in Monroeville. Blue sky, turning leaves, sunshine. 47 F, upper 50s will join us presently. I spoke with another elevator passenger after I came in from a walk. “Beautiful day outside.” “Yes,” he answered, “I love this time of year.” He got off the elevator, leaving me to finish to myself, I love it, too, but one morning I’ll awaken out of love with it.

Trump delivered another miracle announcement about how awesome and fantastic he is. This was about his MRI. “Best one they’ve ever seen,” he loudly cried. The he hurried to the place formerly known as the White House to put it on the refrigerator with his finger paintings so everyone can ah over it. Thing is, you don’t put ‘im in an MRI unless there’s a medical concern, right?

Mom’s bash was a celebration done right yesterday. A tiara announcing 90. A pink sash proclaiming, ’90 & Fabulous’. I’d picked up her pink party smock and her silver shoes, and that’s what she was wearing. Good food, twenty-four people representing the generations, happy time. But today, there she was, 7:58 AM, going to the hospital. She’d fallen. Sis wanted her checked out. Mom, a retired nurse, refused. Now, suddenly, yes, she needed to go to the hospital, Mom decided. So off they went. I slept through the text telling me this. Now I’m heading over there. Sad, as Mom was happy, alert, present, all that, yesterday. Ate well, etc. Now, here we go. Hopefully, it’s not a spiral into another prolonged health battle.

Recalling the party, though, The Neurons supplied me with “Shiny Happy People” by R.E.M. in the morning mental music stream.

Hope peace and grace get up and out of bed and come visit soon. Have the best you can in the meantime. Cheers

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Sundaz Theme Music

Sunshine abounds outside the hotel window. It’s up to 38 F, a rise from the 32 it was when I took an early morning walk. Didn’t feel that cold when I walked. I wasn’t out long. Maybe that’s all part of how the weather ‘feels’.

It’s October 26, 2025, the day of Mom’s birthday do. We visited her yesterday. Early hours found her sleepy, lethargic, sluggish. She wrapped herself in a blanket, put her feet up, and napped in her wheelchair. A few sixties later, she was lively and alert, and gobbled down a couple pieces of pizza.

Which delivers me to this morning’s music. We visited Mom’s house yesterday, our third swing by it to pick up things for Mom. The inside was in disarray, partly from Frank’s fail, but added by Mom’s bug out to sister’s house, and Frank’s family descending to grab and remove anything that might of been of value that belonged to Frank. I tidied a bit but then stepped out. A storm had swept through a few months ago, wrecking the side porch and taking down trees and branches. It looked so starkly different, like a forecast of the emptiness that was coming to the house.

All that in me head, and The Neurons responded, “Time, time, time, look what you’ve done to me.” Just like that, The Bangles’ cover of the Simon & Garfunkel offering, “A Hazy Shade of Winter”, rolled through the mental music stream, staying strong into the morning.

Off to Mom’s old house to pick up more necessities. May peace and grace leaped up and grab you in a bear hug and hold on tight. Cheers

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Wenzdaz Theme Music

Another Wenzda has shifted in. It’s October 22, 2025. We’re getting into October’s last legs. Trees are still lively with colors. That huge old oak across the street hasn’t begun shedding yet. When it does, a blizzard of gold will fall to the winds. Meanwhile, seeing its high golden leaves up against the sky’s purest blue refreshes me, and adds depths to my contemplation of what in the world is going on. Now 46 F with the heater on in the house, sunshine, a front, and clear sky will help Ashlandia breach the low seventies today.

Mosquitoes found in Iceland for the first time, says a headline. Well, surely that’s a one off. They just had some record heat. The story says that Iceland and Antarctica were the only places without skeeters. Now there’s just the southern ice cap. I hear it’s been warming and shrinking, so set your calendars. I evaded stories about bomb threats, cars ramming buildings, and other signs of increasing unrest and violence in the U.S. With familiar weariness, I read about Trump rambling through another nonsensical conversation and temper my rage that this is accepted as okay by GOP senators and his donors and minions. I slipped past war updates from Ukraine and edged around the shooting involving a marshal, ICE, and another person, who was supposed to be ‘an immigrant’. Some flirting was done with the tale of the AWS outage that crashed parts of the web over the last several days. My heart and mind were wary of delving into those stories without coffee’s strength first.

The packing for our trip is done. Papi’s minder moves in tomorrow morning. I will miss my furry orange friend. A taxi will whisk us away like refugees in the night. Fingers crossed, etc., by this time tomorrow we’ll be aloft in one of aerospace machines, heading east for Mom’s birthday, seeing family, etc. Sis sent photos of Mom’s new lair. She included the little electric fake fireplace Mom had in her living room. Mom and Frank bought it an estate sale and were so happy with it. I know Mom will find comfort in having it on, warming the air and her heart.

Dad’s birthday is next week. Day after Mom’s, the day before Mom’s late brother, a few weeks after my late mother-in-law, and a week after my brother-in-law. Anyway, I wrote Dad a letter this morning, thanking him for what he’s done for me, telling him how much I enjoy our telephone conversations and laughing with him, etc. Afterward, The Neurons felt it appropriate to insert Dido’s song, “Thank You”, in the morning mental music stream. So here we go.

May peace and grace find their way back to us. Many wonder if they still exist. I believe it’s still being cultivated in many places where protections are in place to keep it from being smashed. Till then, roll on. Cheers

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Twozdaz Theme Music

Cold and shiny Twozda Morning in October. This is 10/23/2025. 46 F in Ashland, the temperature will frolic into the low 70s with the sun’s herding. Fall’s grasp is as firm as ever, with leaves decomposing and dropping while others hang, shimmering in reds and golds.

Sis has moved Mom into her house because of Mom’s repeated falls and inability to care for herself. No one is there to help her at her house, etc. Sis meets with a real estate agent next Tuesday to pull the levers to sell Mom’s house. An estate sale is being established to sell Mom’s furniture and belongings. Not excited to return to this state, and you know what I mean. This is life. But I’m looking forward to seeing family and being in the area of my youth.

In one of Trump’s continuing rampages to show how much he hates the United States, he’s now having the physical building called the White House destroyed. As it was put in a comment on another site, I am volcanically pissed. Breathtaking arrogance. If anything proves that Trump has no sense of history and gives not a jot of shit about anything except himself, this is it. Destroying the house of We the People and replacing it with his own gaudy, cheap imitation of grandeur is disgusting and infuriating. Project 2025 is certainly well pleased and gleeful. Roberts Court is probably shrugging. They let him trample the Constitution with his overweight ego and obese body, why not allow this effrontery? Sure hope all those MAGA are happy too. Isn’t this how love for your nation is shown, by tearing down its heritage?

Approval for him falls. Disapproval for him rises. Strength to stand against him and his regime increases.

A Daily Kos post by Michael Taylor offers solid insights into the Trump Regime’s war against the United States.

Criminalising an idea: the dangerous fiction of “ANTIFA, the organisation”

Let’s talk about a magic trick. Not the kind with rabbits and hats, but the political kind, where a complex idea is made to vanish, only to be replaced by a simple, monstrous caricature. The latest magicians? Pam Bondi, U.S. Attorney General, and the broader Trump administration, who are attempting to pull off the dangerous illusion of criminalising ANTIFA.

The premise of their act is that ANTIFA is a unified, hierarchical terrorist organisation– a domestic version of ISIS – that can be neatly listed, proscribed, and its members prosecuted. This is a profound and likely deliberate misunderstanding. ANTIFA, short for “anti-fascist,” is not an organisation; it is a political belief and a movement, no more a single entity than “conservatism” or “environmentalism.”

Under cover of criminalizing a concept and calling it an organization, the Trump Regime can attempt to use all of the government’s military and police forces against United States citizens, weakly rationalizing it as part of their fight against ‘antifa’. As Taylor closes:

The real danger isn’t a black-clad protester breaking a window; it’s a government that seeks to break the foundational principle that in America, people are free to believe, and to protest, what they see fit.

Meanwhile, the Epstein Shutdown has moved into its third week, earning Trump’s third government shutdown in five years of ‘leadership’ as the third longest U.S. government shutdown in history.

Without too much surprise, Trump’s Gaza ceasefire is as successful as Trump University, Trump Steaks, various Trump casinos and hotels, and Trump Air. Trump is a magical enshittifier.

I have The Moody Blues performing “The Story in your Eyes” in the morning mental music stream. Between conversations with Papi as I explain we’ll be going away but his favorite house sitter will be here, and thoughts of Trump’s destruction, and, well, changes in life in general, Les Neurons responded with lines out of the song.

Listen to the tide slowly turning. Wash all our heartaches away. We’re part of the fire that is burning, and from the ashes we can build another day.

May grace and peace get up and going and come around to see how we’re doing. Coffee is making itself familiar to the various body functions. Time to rock it. Time to roll it. Until the next, cheers from Trump and his smirking BFF, Jeffrey Epstein.

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Mundaz Theme Music

Munda, October 20, 2025, has set upon us. 36 F, a clear deep blue sky crowns the valley. With solar influences working through this clear air, 71 F is the hoped-for high.

Bad news from home. Sis reports that she let Mom sleep in this AM. Yesterday, she went over at 11 AM and Mom was still asleep, so, she worked off that. When she reached Mom by phone, Mom said she’d fallen two more times. Mom said she just stayed on the floor and slept there. Sis headed over to see if Mom needed to head to the hospital. That’s at least Mom’s fourth fall Mom reported on herself since last Friday. Not a reassuring trend.

The Epstein Shutdown is creeping toward its third week.

Trump and the GOP shrug. Moderate Dems are unfortunately leaning toward ‘working’ with the GOP to pass something. They have not, apparently, had their FAFO moment with the Trump Regime.

I began pulling up news to see the latest Trump Destruction Machine’s moves. Instead, I came across the graphic below and thought, that’s the way to go.

I will say that many MAGAs and conservatives commenting about the No Kings rally are trying hard to pretend it was very small. Meaningless. They insist Trump is very popular. Also, he’s not doing anything wrong. It’s a familiar scene. We know that people often remain oblivious or accepting until there’s a FAFO moment for them.

I was not surprised that the TACO Regime announced they were ‘investigating’ the No Kings rally. Shows their worries and fears’ depths. Think they can manipulate us into submission via fear and intimidation. They think that Democrats, liberals, and progressives are as easily manipulated as that MAGA base and the Fox fed GOP.

Music choices are swirling in the morning mental music stream. Several music-related celebrity deaths were announced, alongside former NFL and college football players. One of them was Jack White, a producer. He produced Laura Branigan’s cover of “Gloria”. The Neurons are fond of the song, so that won a residency in the morning mental music stream and another turn as theme music. Alas, we lost Laura B way back in 2004.

Time to rock on. Coffee is starting to rock me awake. Yes, I’ve been sleep typing. Hope peace and grace come out of seclusion to give us a sign that they’re still alive and well. Cheers

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Sundaz Wandering Thoughts

Frank passed away, so I’m remembering Frank. 95, he and Mom were together for his life’s last twenty years plus. Which, as I think about it, causes me to realize that Frank was about five years older than my present age when he and Mom met. My youngest sister, Lisa, was the agent of their coming together. Mom was dating another, Ed, at the time. Lisa worked in a bank. She regularly saw Frank and decided that Frank and Mom were a good match. When she suggested it to Frank, he asked, “Is she pretty?” Lisa beamed and gave a knowing nod. “Yep.”

Lisa was right. Mom and Frank hit it right off. All was a lot of fun for years. Biking, walking, movies, tennis, dancing, estate sales. They had a good life before Mom’s accidents, health, and drugs crippled things. I’m happy they had those years together.

When my wife and I talked about it, she marveled about old people dating. “People our age,” she exclaimed as we both laughed. She went on, “I’m like that song. I’m not ready to get naked in front of another.”

We spoke more seriously about friends and relatives our age and older dating. Ron, 78, lost his wife ten years ago to breast cancer. He’s had a regular girlfriend for three years. Now he’s dating another woman and they’re having fun. Sis-in-law, coming up on 70, has a regular boyfriend, her third since her husband died of brain cancer about five years ago (I think). Then there’s Barb, 81 this Feb, dating a guy who is her age. Both had preferred younger people and would hook up with someone for a few months and then move on. Now, months into this relationship, Barb professes that she’s in love. Sweet and beautiful.

So, there’s hope, if you put yourself out there. As Frank and Mom did. Hell, as Dad did. Now at 92, he’s on his third marriage. It’s lasted over thirty years, the longest marriage of his life, and he seems happy and contented.

Hope and love aren’t limited by age.

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Sundaz Theme Music

Sunda. October 19, 2025. Rain hissed on the roof. The house heater added a rush of air. 49 F, rain is expected all day, with a temperature that peaks at 61 F. Fog has sunk its teeth into the surrounding mountains. Leafy golds, yellows, oranges, and reds glow. Papi galloped in, threw himself down and vigorously applied his tongue to his orange fur to rid himself of that accursed wet. Then it was on to food, nom nom nom.

The No Kings II protest went well. We made it an hour late. Finding parking was a Lewis & Clark expedition. Was great being out there yesterday with other protestors, waving our signs, protesting the GOP eagerness to let Trump be king, protesting Trump’s arrogance that he should be king, protesting the general shit show Trump, Project 2025, and the GOP are putting on. Felt good to know others like us are out there, and they’re standing up. Even more satisfying and validating were the cars going by, horns blowing, giving us thumbs up, holding up peace signs, shouting, “Right on.” Only heard one “Fuck you,” and one “Sieg heil.” The latter came from a woman. Both of these disapprovers were in huge pickemups.

My greatest disappointment was that most of the protesters were old folks like us. The young were in short supply. My wife reminded me that they probably have to work and to cut them some slack. Anyway, thinking about the young provoked The Neurons to bring up a Eurythmics song, “All the Young (People of Today)”. Came out in 1981. Odd vibe to it. I thought, wow, that’s a weird one to come up with. I know it from listening to Euythmics CDs. Don’t think any radio station ever sent it to my ears.

Mom’s new habitat enclosure at sis’s house is getting developed fast. Small dorm frig has been added. A microwave. Hope Mom will be happy there, along with warm and safe. There was a whole late-night misadventure on Friday night. Mom thought she heard someone trying to get into her house and knocking on the door, calling her name. She was there alone. Hiding in her bathroom, she texted her daughters and grandchildren to call the police for her. Why she didn’t do that for herself is one aspect of the mystery. As it was after midnight, most were asleep or away from their phones. Mom’s texts went unnoticed until a grandson, Michael, saw it. Then 911 was called, etc. Police showed up, knocking on Mom’s front door. She wouldn’t answer. She was hiding in the bathroom. The police reported deer were on the small stoop outside of Mom’s room, eating off a tree by the house. 911 had to call my sister, who called Mom to tell her what was going on.

Coffee is singing to The Neurons once again. The day has grown brighter. The temperature has climbed to 50 and if you lean forward and squint at just the right angle, there’s a small blue patch struggling to break out of the cloud eggs containing it. Which reminds me. Hope peace and grace break out of their shells soon and bless us with some visiting. Here we go, on into another day, another week, another…well, you know. Cheers

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Satyrdaz Theme Music

It’s Satyrda, Oct 18, 2025, also known as No Kings II. This is a day when We the People come together to remind Trump, Project 2025, the GOP, and the rest of the world that the United States rejected kings ruling them twice before, in 1776, and then again when the idea was floated before G. Washington. We didn’t want kings then; we don’t want them in 2025.

My spouse and I spent time last night constructing our signs and finalizing our plans. This morning, my wife came to me. “I screwed up,” she said. “My doctor appointment isn’t 1:30, it’s 11:30.”

Oh. That changed things. Originally, we would hit the rally from 11 to 1, leave at 1 and go to her appointment. Now we’ll go to her appointment and then head to the rally when it’s over.

It’s a brisk fall morning out there. Plentyo sunshine, clear, blue sky, but just 39 F at our place. 75 F will be ours before the night pulls in.

For the record, the Epstein Shutdown continues along on cruise control. Republicans are mostly content to let things slide and refuse to fix healthcare issues for millions of Americans. That’s just how they roll.

Today’s song comes from a convo with my wife last night. I was doing a load of delicates. Did she want to put anything in? Sure. She zipped around doing her collection, then came to me and said, “I can’t find my sports bra.” I found it in the laundry basket. She’d just overlooked it. But meanwhile, The Neurons projected a song variation in my head. They had me singing, “Looking for my bra in all the wrong places,” to the tune of “Lookin’ for Love”. “Lookin’ for Love” by Johnny Lee was a 1980 hit associated with the movie, Urban Cowboy. We were livin’ in San Antonio, Texas, at the time, and you could not escape the song. Anyway, The Neurons kept it going in the morning mental music stream. That’s how it came to be here.

Coffee is flirting with The Neurons. Time to get up and at them. Hope grace and peace find us all today and maybe stick around long enough for us to get to know them. Hope to see you at the protests. Cheers

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