Category: miscellaneous

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Greetings to my fellow humans and coffee ants. It’s Wenzda! Humpda! December 17 2025.

Ashlandians find ourselves in warmer weather with less fog. We’re hanging at about 40 degrees F. Light gray clouds with low bellies soldier past sunlit dark green evergreens. The clouds tear and break as they meet the trees. Another slice of sky features darker clouds mingling with bright blue sky. All shines with a rainy sheen, waiting to dry off. Today’s high will strike 47 F, ‘they’ say. We’re unsure they’ll be correct.

Slop is the word of the year. Hard to argue with that. In this information age, disinformation sown and furthered by AI’s efforts to entertain and uneducate the masses while undermining political will and decision-making owns many media outlets and social platforms.

Some of this is deliberately done. Feeling down? Go shopping! Look at these deals!

Not into shopping? Tune into NASCAR. NBA, NFL, college football, college basketball, hockey, volleyball, oh, boy the Olympics are coming! The world cup!

Eat our new food! Buy our new stuff! Watch our new show! Enjoy our new movie! Don’t like them, then watch the old movies, the old sitcoms, the old dramas, and remember how it used to be. Don’t think. Just sit back and relax. Let us take care of you.

What a way to end the year, mired in slop, wondering WTF is going to happen next year. Will the U.S. wage open war on Venezuela or go all in with Russia against the Ukraine? Trump is all for that. War for peace. “We can only win peace if we’re strong enough to fight for it,” he’ll snarl. And enough Americans are simple enough to eagerly nod agreement. We got all that military power. Shame not to use it, right?

Thinking about slop as the word of the year has The Neurons laughing. “Slop is the word is the word that you heard. It’s got groove, it’s got meaning. Slop is the time, is the place, is the motion. Slop is the way we are feeling.”

The Neurons might be on to something this time.

Anyway, they slotted “Grease” as sung by Frankie Valli in the movie, Grease, in the morning mental music stream. Except we’re singing ‘slop’ instead of ‘grease’.

Okay, coffee is greasing me up. Hope peace and grace break through the slop and make a cameo sometime in 2025’s final days. Here we go again. Cheers

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Sundaz Wandering Thoughts

My wife greeted me from the kitchen as I entered the house.

Then she said, “You’re not going to be happy with me.”

“Why?”

“I used the last of your blueberries.”

Walking in behind her, I said, “What did you say?” As she repeated herself, I held up the pint of blueberries I’d purchased on my way home.

Astonishment lit her face. “How did you know?”

“I was watching you on the house cam.”

Suspicious doubt swept her astonishment away. “The what?”

“It’s a camera installed in a wine bottle. I put it in before we went to Pittsburgh.”

“You did not.”

Laughing and walking away, I replied, “Then how did I know?”

I later caught her peering at a wine bottle. Saying nothing, she gave me a look that was loud with accusations.

5

The Coffee Shop

I broke out of my writerly cocoon this week. I typically get into the coffee shop, find a table and seat, assume the position and shut down to being friendly. I have met Kim, another writer, and chat with her regularly, but briefly. We each respect the writer’s privacy and methodology, so while we will emerge to joke and exchange words, we shut back down and get down to our respective writing processes.

Meanwhile, though, there are dogs. People bring their pups in with them, a practice I applaud. Living in Europe, it wasn’t unusual to encounter dogs in restaurants, cafes, and shops. I’m fine with them.

And the dogs are fine with me. But because they come and visit me, I end up chatting with their people. Then the people open up with their curiosity about what I do there each day. In explaining, others overhear. They volunteer later, privately, that they’re a writer, too. It’s a veritable writing hive.

I also ventured out of my cocoon on my own. A woman sat down beside me yesterday as I was wrapping up. She put a book down, along with a notebook. Always interested in people’s reading material, I glanced over. The book’s title was A Wild Life, a book about women in botany and their discoveries. I have several botanist friends, learned, intelligent, charming people who are passionate about botany. I said, “Pardon me, I saw your book. Are you a botanist?”

“I wish,” she responded.

We chatted about the book and why she chose it. A local person, Lucretia Saville Weems, is the author, and the woman saw it in Bloomsbury’s local authors section and was interested and bought it.

Packing up, I said my goodbyes to her but wasn’t done socializing. I’d noticed a young couple. She was wearing a One Piece sweatshirt. My wife and I are One Piece fans, so I had to pause to compliment her on her top, and then we talked about the television series and enjoyed some laughs.

Probably just something in the air for a few days. I’m back in my cocoon today, ready to get to it.

5

Satyrdaz Wandering Thoughts

As I sit here typing, I’m aware of a hair. It sits on the left side of my left eye’s vision. It’s been pestering me for two days. It’s from the Eyebrow Tribe. At first, I just brushed at it. Then I tried finding it in the mirror and pasting it down. When that failed, I tried jerking it out with my fingertips. Should’ve gotten tweezers to seriously address it but no, I was in the middle of something else and was rushing myself. Or should I just clipped it back. Tsk.

And here it is again. Sitting on my vision’s edge, mocking me.

Curse you, little curly hair. Curse you. This isn’t over.

0

Fridaz Bumper Sticker

I’m a day late on this. Sorry.

This Thanksgiving through Cyber Monday – let’s make our dollars count. We’re asking Americans to hit pause on shopping from major corporations.

JOIN US ON NOV. 27TH – DEC. 1ST, 2025

Target

Target has rolled back their DEI initiatives, which included ending programs that help Black employees advance, cutting financial support for Black-Owned businesses, and removing LGBTQ+ products from their stores.

Amazon

Amazon holds a monopolistic position in the market, contributes to dangerous working conditions for its employees and drivers, and CEO Jeff Bezos has donated over $1 million to this administration.

Home Depot

Home Depot is allowing ICE agents to illegally detain and kidnap laborers from their stores. The laborers in our communities are not able to look for work safely.

How to Participate

  • Full Black Out: Don’t buy anything from Target, Amazon or Home Depot stores during this week. Use the time and money to connect with those you love, and rediscover what matters.
  • Redirect Spending: Skip the companies undermining democracy. Shop small, local, or with businesses affirming our humanity.
  • Join the Movement: Pledge to be a conscious consumer.
  • Amplify: Spread the word. Share the message in conversation and online.
  • Use and SHARE Our Toolkit: Get the word out about this economic action so we can hit the billionaire’s pockets where it hurts! Share now!

See more at We Ain’t Buying It.

2

Wenzdaz Wandering Thoughts

The coffee shop will be closed on Thanksgiving Day. That’s the bottom line to this. To me, great. Be with family or friends or whatever works in your sphere.

No, my problem is in their poster announcing their closure. They say they’re closed Thanksgiving Day.

On November 26.

Umm, hello? That’s today. Tomorrow, Thursday, Thanksgiving, is November 27.

Being the anal fellow I am, The Neurons forced me to mention it to the staff. And yeah, as I told The Neurons, the staff knew. But they were okay, because they were emphasizing that they were closed on Thanksgiving, regardless of the date. Nobody else had mentioned the error, if it was noticed.

It’s okay. Last year, Thanksgiving was on the 28th. Next year, it should be on the 26th, and then the signs will be okay. The Neurons aren’t happy about it, but then again, they’re rarely happy.

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A Free Food Dream Adventure

I was in a store with friends. This clean, mostly white, and well-lit place was like a fancy grocery store. No friends from real life were present but the people there were all known to me as friends. I knew that we were there for the second time. The first time, we’d made minor purchases. Liking the place, we returned to buy more.

So, we’re in line to pay, and we’re comparing how much our purchases will probably cost. Most of what we’re buying is food, especially cheese and bread, it seems like. The owner, a young and petite white woman with black curly hair and red lips, is behind a counter ringing up purchases.

I estimate to my friends that I’m buying several hundred dollars of food. Then it’s my turn and I step up to pay but the owner waves me off. She tells me that she knows who I am, that I’m a writer that she admires, and that she loves my books. I’m perplexed as I’ve only self-published a few books and had a few stories sold, so I tell her that I think she’s thinking of someone else. No, she insists, she knows me, knows who I am, and I will never need to pay for anything in her store. Her insistence stirs guilt in me; that’s not the way the system is supposed to work. I’m also flattered but doubtful. We talk more; she stays on point. I surrender and walk out without paying.

Dream end.

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Twozdaz Wandering Thoughts

The coffee shop is pretty damn full.

I’m in RoCo. It’s my new favorite coffee place, an old house converted to a business on the corner of 8th Avenue and East Main Street.

Every table is in use. Many regulars are in attendance. Like me, at a table, computer open. My eyes and ears are open even as I read, think, and type. Wonderful community and social energies swirl through the room like a strong, happy breeze. I love the noise and action, enjoy looking up at the faces, glancing at the fashion.

Most clients are, ahem, ‘my age’. They look like, ahem, boomers, like me. I’ll be seventy next year. I think I’m in the middle of the age spectrum here. Sure, there are so younger outliers. Teenagers who look like they’re wearing colorful fleece pajamas come in as pairs, order, take their stuff and leave. A few twenty-somethings, thirtyish, and fortyish folks are partaking of drink and food, chatting with others, reading, so forth. Hoka shoes are spotted on many, the shoes of my people. Columbia sportwear and Patagonia dominates. They’re the clothes of my tribe, but this is Oregon, where some of that stuff is produced, and where Columbia is headquartered, up north, west of Portland. Two children, about ten, are also present with an older woman. The children are on ice cream on this chilly, foggy, autumn day. The weather doesn’t daunt them from enjoying a cold but sweet treat.

The baristas take orders, prepare, and serve, all laughing and chatting as they do. Regulars come in and get greeted by name, including Sugar the dog, who waves their tail in happiness and await their standard treat.

Sunshine has burst through outside. Cold air storms me as the doors open and close. This is the United States, Oregon, Ashlandia, in 2025.

4

Mundaz Theme Music

We’re Gloomsville today, Munda, November 24, 2025. Fog is squatting on us with a chilly, gray ambiance. Sunshine took a look and said, “Pass,” for the morning. Warmer today than yesterday, 44 F, we’re hoping to plumb 60. Such a winter feel soaks the air that I wouldn’t be surprised if Frosty the Snowman strutted down past my house.

Yet this all feels like many childhood Thanksgivings in the Pittsburgh area where I spent my elementary and junior high school years. We’d be released from school for the holiday and rush into this stuff, noses red and running above our grinning mouths. Eyes sparkling, we’d ask one another, “What do you want to do?” Because we were free! And also because we knew good food was coming. Yes, some restrictions would also rise up about how to behave and dress for the good times as the larger mass of family, the ones we only saw a few times a year, all came together. Wish I could recover some of that youthful hopefulness and energy but the weight of too many events in too many years tamps it down tight. All that remains are reflections.

Sunda was spent celebrating another friend’s 78th. We treated them to dinner and then retired to their home for a few hours of Mexican Train, because that’s what she wanted to do. Phone calls of others interrupted out time, but that induced smiles instead of resentment. Good to know she was well thought of by so many friends and relatives that they took time to call.

My post today is late as it was our turn for our monthly Food & Friends deliveries. A smaller list this time. We wondered about the absentees and wished them the best. Then my wife suggested breakfast out somewhere. Although I’d eaten breakfast, I agreed because I know this as one of her favorite things to do. I’m still cautious and mindful about what I consume, eating in moderation and then monitoring my bod for problems.

Today’s song is “Man in A Box”. This is a 1991 grunge song by Alice in Chains. It’s a song about censorship and government restrictions, and was inspired by the songwriter learning how veal was produced via calves kept in cages. Later interviews, band members said that the song’s inspiration was derived from how the media worked in conjunction with the government to control the story. We’re all familiar with that, aren’t we. So, as I was reading the news this morning, The Neurons came up with this song.

I last played this in July of 2024, when we were still hopeful that people would Vote Blue. Not enough did. “The economy,” they cried. Now look where we’re at.

There was cause for some show and victory celebrations today. That would be the dismissal of the Comey and James prosecutions because the prosecutor was not lawfully appointed. I suspect that this will be challenged and end up at the Roberts Court. Odds there probably favor the Trump Regime. I write that because I don’t think the Roberts Court is overly invested in law, precedence, or the Constitution. The majority are more about right-wing ideology.

Next food for musing came from news about a new investigation.

Pentagon Launches Investigation into Senator Mark Kelly over Video Urging Troops to Defy ‘Illegal’ Orders

This is all about the video released the other day that urged military members not to obey illegal orders, reminding them that they swore an oath to the Constitution. I’m retired military; I fully understand what was in that video. I suspect Senator Kelly is like me and probably laughed, saying, “Bring it on!” This advice is continuously given to military members. Ain’t nothing new. That it’s a military veteran and senator, and Democrat giving that advice, along with other Democrats and veterans doesn’t change that it’s anything new or unique. It’s just timely, needed advice, given the Trump Regime’s propensity for lying, ignoring the law, and attacking people and encouraging violence against others based on political stances. We always address following and obey lawful orders, as called out in the Uniform Code of Military Justice, or UCMJ. We learn that in initial training sessions and it’s reinforced multiple times in training sessions while in the military. It’s a serious matter, and that’s how we treat it.

Peace and grace ain’t here yet but I still light a candle in the window. Meanwhile, coffee up and carry on, or if you’re not part of coffee nation, whatever bevie works for you. Here we go again, once more into the foggy sunny windy chilly warming autumn winter day. Cheers

1

Satyrdaz Wandering Thoughts

“My name is Brenda,” I said, with a touch of happy humor.

My current coffee haunt is RoCo. The local Food Co-Op owns RoCo. Members of the co-op, we get a dividend back from the co-op at the year’s end. And guess what? All you need to do is give the RoCo barista your name and number. That’s what I was doing.

“Is Brenda your wife, Michael?” Kat asked.

“Yes.” I released a small scoff. “The funny thing is, she doesn’t go by Brenda. She uses a name that she made up a long time ago, so it always makes us laugh when we reveal our account name.”

Kat grinned through the entire tale. “I like that.”

It’s the small things which give us spirit, innit?

0

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