80 degrees F and sunny, it’s just after 3 PM. We’ve just returned from community theater where we had brunch and watched a play called “Sherwood”.
I’ve not read much news today as my routines became overcome by events, making this a short post.
Basically, my feelings remain that the United States and its situation is worsening. Trump’s situation is also worsening. The Iran War and the middle east are worsening. All are basically going down.
Hearing that thinking, The Neurons fired up Jeff Beck from 1972 in the morning mental music stream. This is “Going Down”.
May your life and times go up to better places and a better future.
Sunshine and blue sky rule this morning. My current thermometer reading is 53 F with 79 F possible after seeing 80 yesterday.
The assisted living facility where Mom resides shared pix of their St Patrick’s day festivities. There was Mom, smiling, looking happy with a silly little green hat on.
Sis suspects that our youngest sister is secretly in contact with Mom and helping her. Mom has been quiet, not reaching out to any of us. Maybe we’ve found the balance for peaceful co-existence. I plan to send Mom a small Easter present.
We’re deeply into the Fuck Around, Find Out phase of Trump’s second term. After expending a lot of air and time on how ‘hot’ the United States is as a country, how other nations were ‘going to hell’, and how we don’t need them, Trump is now asking for help.
According to Trump, nobody anticipated Iran’s response after they were attacked. In fact, who didn’t anticipate it, other than Trump? Now, as the war and its costs are dragging on and dragging him down, he called on other nations to help.
No, they responded.
It’s classic FAFO.
Likewise, Trump insisted his tariffs were legal and would save the nation. No, to both, almost everyone outside of the GOP said. The Supreme Court ruled that the largest ones Trump installed were illegal and refunds were due, a costly, prolonged project.
Trump claimed that last year’s 4th quarter GDP would be 5.4%. It came in at .7%. He claimed his tariffs would decrease prices and unemployment. Didn’t happen. FAFO.
Meanwhile, Trump is pushing hard getting the SAVE Act passed. It’s more classic FAFO moment. We know the ramifications of the act if it passes. We’re not the fools Trump thinks we are. Neither are the Democrats in Congress refusing to go along with the SAVE Act, no matter what Trump threatens.
Trump acts alternately triumphant and angry, demanding help and attention and insisting it’s not needed. His performance reminds The Neurons of a song by the Who, “I’m One” from “Quadrophenia”.
This song is about a young man struggling with mental issues, trying to fit in, coping to find out who he is and create an identity for himself. That’s where I think Trump is. His threats and bullying have less and less impact. What he thought would work isn’t working, and even his bubble isn’t protecting him from knowing the truth any longer.
May this day find you chilling with some hope and grace that Trump will bottom out, the Democrats will take over in a blue wave, and we can begin fixing the Trump Mess. It’s so bad, I think that’s how we should call this period from when Trump began running for office last decade until he’s finally gone: the Trump Mess. We can refer to things pre TM and post TM. Trump likes his name on things. I think we give it to him.
Although Trump Mess might not be strong enough. Trump Hole? Trump Disaster?
It’s 39 F outside. Wisps of white clouds are spread around the blue sky like clumps of pet fur. We’re expecting to visit the upper seventies today, lower by a few degrees which was originally forecast. Still, it’s good weather, more easily endured than the snowstorm striking parts of the U.S.
Snow out here would be welcomed. We’re in a snow drought. We’re below 50% of what’s ‘average’. This unseasonable warm weather will melt the snow faster, causing us even more problems this summer because we depend on snow melting throughout the year to keep our water levels up.
My wife and I were reminded yesterday that we’re not Boomers but Joneses. Generation Jones were born between 1954 and 1965, and that covers us. My wife rejected it before and rejected again, insisting, “We’re not like the Joneses.”
I embrace it, though. I like not being a boomer and being able to tell that to others. Makes me smile and laugh.
Last night, I read Heather Cox Richardson’s March 16, 2026 newsletter. In it, she recounted some of the battles and actions associated with the American Revolutionary War which ended 250 years ago.
I found it a good reminder of the period. I reject many of Trump policies as un-American and think that he’s ignoring the Constitution and multiple laws while breaking political norms.
The colonists of the 1770s were not united, as Ms Richardson points out. But enough were fed up with being ruled by a king that they rebelled.
Trump, aided by the GOP, supported by MAGA, is ruling like he’s a king, ignoring the will of Congress and the needs of the people. Just as it was said 250 years ago, “No kings.” Not then, and not now.
Yet, we’re as much divided now as we were during the War for Independence and the American Civil War. At least some of us are. I read an article in which Kimmel called Trump a bonehead. This comment was left about it:
“Obviously the president is not going to tell a reporter what his plans are just to have them give the enemy (people on the left like Kimmel) the plan. Trump has you liberals so screwed up in the head that you convulse at every word he says. Liberal is now synonymous with weak brained fools.”
From my POV, it is the right wing and conservatives that has Trump so screwed up in the head. They idolize everything he says, including the inane, lies, and bluster.
Trump has those MAGAts so messed up that they can’t understand the need for clearly stated goals and exit strategies. This was the same failing in multiple earlier wars, which using more reductivism, explains to me that Trump has cratered right-wingers’ abilities to learn or remember history.
They forget that Trump promised that Mexico would pay for the wall. Trump said he would release the Epstein files. After he didn’t, he tried to convince them it was a hoax by the Democrats.
Trump has the MAGAs so messed up, they forget that he said he would lower food prices on day one and end the Ukraine war on day one. He’s done neither.
It’s my niece’s birthday, so happy birthday to her! She’s a wonderful adult, with three growing sons, including a teen. Nothing is planned to celebrate her birthday, per her preferences, but I wish her a wonderful life.
Today’s music is “Me and Mrs. Jones”. This is a 1972 hit performed by Billy Paul. It’s been used in movies, recorded by others, and provides a good base for parody. The Neurons raised it in the morning mental music stream because of the whole Generation Jones thing, of course. *smile*
May your day be filled with peace, love, and understanding — cuz, what’s wrong with that?
Hazy but sunny, it was 43 F out when I got up this morning but now it’s 61, with a high in the upper 70s expected. This is part of the California coast heatwave. Being Oregon, we don’t get as much national attention as our southern neighbor, but the conditions striking California are also nailing us. We might set a new record high for the date tomorrow as analysts say that the low 80s are possible.
The news cycle brought more war news along with stories about Academy Awards winners and losers. The Trump Iran War continues. Suggestions swirl that both the United States and Russia will deploy ground troops to Iran. Despite Trump’s claim that Iran’s military was 100% destroyed, Iran hit a UAE oil port and Dubai airport.
Friends yesterday talked about the current political atmosphere. Many were dismayed by how easily Trump launched new military attacks and dragged us into war. While we naturally recognized, this has been an ugly trend by the left and right for decades, it’s really disturbing that a person who often speaks like he’s high is able to launch powerful, deadly weapons almost at will.
Others brought up how Brendan Carr, chairman of the FCC, is threatening the freedom of the press. One friend said when that Democrats return to a position where it can happen, there should be some Nuremburg-style trials. There wasn’t much further discussion of that, but the general consensus is, changes are needed.
I later received an email from another friend, who wasn’t at our little gathering. She wrote,
“We need Nuremburg-style atonement. Without it, we’ll just continue on our late-stage capitalist descent into the ranks of failed experiments with democracy. But hey, at least we have energy sucking, water guzzling generative AI to make silly videos of pets in bathrobes enjoying the spa to distract us from all this while data centers drink our future…”
Today’s song came from a concert by the Rogue Valley Symphonic Band yesterday. I’ve always enjoyed it so it’s no surprise that when The Neurons heard it yesterday, it resurfaced in today’s morning mental music stream.
The concert’s theme was Echoes of Oregon and featured composers who lived in or were educated in Oregon. One of these was Mason Williams, who came out with “Classical Gas” in 1968. The song is an instrumental featuring an acoustic guitar and symphony. I’ve always been drawn to its soft, contemplative beginning and then its urgent, more soaring sound later. A simple melody, the song reached number two behind a song by The Doors. Pretty remarkable.
Someone else who was at the concert and heard “Classical Gas” lamented she wished we were in a simpler era. Several of us scoffed, reminding her of all that was going on in 1968. All of us remembered headlines about the civil rights movements, riots and protests, the Vietnam war, space race, dark, filthy air with rivers on fire, and the cold war and its nuclear threat.
We were left wondering, when were simpler times?
Hope your day is simple, carefree, and satisfying to you in important ways. Off we go, one more time.
It’s 38 F outside with bits of blue sky and an overwhelming gathering of gray clouds. We’ll again see a high in the low 50s as we march on toward Spring.
As I read the news last night and today, I was reminded of President George Dubya Bush’s declaration on an aircraft carrier, “Mission Accomplished”. Oh, what theater as the commander-in-chief landed a jet on an aircraft carrier and emerged in a flight suit. Republicans swooned.
Bush said that he was declaring that the military objectives had been achieved in his invasion of Iraq, and not necessarily that the war was over. His speech came on May 1, 2003, six weeks after the invasion began. The war grew and kept going, with the U.S. in there for eight more years.
I’m thinking about that now because the Trump administration is a diluted version of the Bush/Cheney administration. Bush/Cheney worked in secrecy and cherry-picked intel to support what was happening. One of Bush’s administration compared their plans for war to the marketing campaign for a new product to sell the war. Ignoring what UN weapons inspectors had been saying about Iraq’s weapons, Bush managed to put together a coalition of military forces from allies around the threat of WMDs
Trump did none of that. He just attacked, going in without a plan. Now Trumps thinks he can just declare it over whenever it suits him, just as Bush tried to do.
In the end, the Iraq invasion and war was a costly, disastrous mistake. Less than a quarter century later, and we wonder, how much of what Trump has begun will end with history repeating itself?
In comments on news articles about the war, some were saying, “I’m a Republican and I don’t support this war.” They go on, the timing is wrong, there is no plan, etc.
The thing is, their comments mean little to me at this point. Polls show that Republicans are mostly supporting Trump’s Iranian War. Few Republicans have stood up against anything Trump does, undoing a lot of the checks and balances in our government.
Trump and the MAGA movement co-opted the GOP. But the GOP allowed it to happen. The guiding principles and policies for the GOP are now, “Whatever Trump says.”
I think they made a mistake.
In the same sense, I was thinking of the problems with Mom. We saw what was coming years ago and tried to negotiate with her to improve her situation long before a crisis was reached. She refused, blaming her partner, Frank. But when Frank died, we saw that it was Mom as much as Frank that refused to see the truth and plan for what was happening.
It’s understandable. Many of us go into denial. But looking back, I still shake my head and think, what a mistake.
Not surprising that The Neurons have a song by Men At Work, “It’s A Mistake”, playing in the morning mental music stream. The anti-war song was written during the cold war and reflects worries that nuclear war might erupt.
Hearing it in my head makes me ruefully chuckle. How many times have I told others, “It’s a mistake?” Likewise, I think I was told multiple times, “It’s a mistake, but it’s your life.” I sort of smile because one of them was marrying almost 51 years ago. Dad said, “I think it’s a mistake.”
Sometimes the mistakes work out.
I hope your day goes well, with the mistakes kept to a minimum and of the minor variety, like, “Eating at that restaurant was a mistake. That food just wasn’t very good.”
Ashland, Oregon – Saturday, March 14, 2026. It’s a rainy almost spring day in Ashland as clouds reduce the sunlight and precipitation intermittently falls. Our temperature is 48 F and the temperature will skip up to 52. Maybe.
I don’t have much to say today. I’m still mostly in a wait and see attitude about what’s next, mostly with pent breath. What will crack first? How long will the attacks on Iran last and will it turn to a ground invasion?
Or will Trump attack another country in the interim?
Meanwhile, we’re still waiting to see what the Epstein files really say about Trump and we’re still waiting for justice for the victims.
It might be a long wait. Trump himself is amazingly indifferent to facts, ignorant to history, and delusional about his abilities. I can pull up examples but really, if you doubt that now, you’re probably a Trump thinker.
Trump thinkers are not deep. Although dated from October of 2016, this post encapsulates it.
In point of this, Trump campaigned on no new wars but here he is at the start of his second year of his second term, bombing Iran. And guess what? Trump voters are mostly still with him, according to polls.
Mexico didn’t pay for the wall. Trump never introduced a replacement for ACA. He’s always golfing and now he’s making lots of money for himself as leader of the free world. He’s spending money on war, putting his name on places, and adorning the White House with gold while shredding education, research, and the social safety net.
Prices are rising for food and gas. Trump cut taxes for the wealthiest of the wealthy and makes life harder to in rural areas of the United States. But that’s his base.
And they still haven’t learned who he is.
For music, I’m hearing “Baby Can I Hold You” in the morning mental music stream. This is a 1992 Tracy Chapman song that’s all about how difficult people find it to say, “I’m sorry” or “I love you”. But The Neurons put the song into my morning mental music stream because of the line, “Years gone by and still words don’t come easily.”
That’s how it sometimes is for me. I awaken from dreams and writing efforts and circle around my moods, thoughts, and emotions, unsure of my balance and direction.
But basically, I’m thinking, sorry but I still don’t understand you, Trump voters. Yes, I know it was about feeling overlooked and neglected by the ‘elites’. But how does this repeated pattern of being lied to and broken promises play into your thinking? How does this war play into your thinking and acceptance of him?
The jaded among us reply, no, it wasn’t about war and prices. It was about bigotry, sexism, and hate. It’s all about being male and white and Christian posturing.
As Trump once ‘joked’, “I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody, and I wouldn’t lose any voters, OK? It’s, like, incredible.”
He knows his base way better than I do.
Hope you find peace and grace on this day, and it carries you forward into a better future.
Ashland, Oregon — Friday, March 13, 2026. Ah, Friday the 13th.
I’m surprised that this is considered a day of bad luck. One, because our ancestors thought Friday was a scary day, the scariest of the week.
What? As someone who worked and partied, I always thought Friday was a good day. It was frequently regulated to a quasi half-day. How is that a bad thing?
The ’13’ part comes from the number being perceived as imperfect. “Ancient Romans and later European traditions also treated 13 as a break in the natural order, contrasting it with the “complete” number 12 (months, zodiac signs, apostles).”
Well, that’s kind of funny and arbitrary. The months are divided into different lengths — 28 (or maybe 29), 30, and 31 days. That seems imperfect. But there’s a ‘perfect’ set of twelve of them.
Yet, we only have two each of limbs, eyes, ears, legs. Just one mouth. Guess we’re not perfect or we’d have twelve of each.
It’s all so silly. That’s why I trust my lucky underwear, my lucky pen, and three beeps on the microwave. They’re proven to bring good fortune. I’d loan you my underwear but it’s just my bad luck that they need washed.
Today finds us cloudy but pleasantly warmish and coolish outside, with sun and blue sky playing peek-a-boo with the clouds. 46 F now, a high in the mid 60s is anticipated.
Quiet continues on the Mom front, and the news shows war, violence, chaos. Thanks, Mr. Trump. It feels like it was an unlucky day when you were elected — both times.
Today’s music is “Wasted on the Way”. The Neurons slipped the Crosby, Stills, Nash song into the morning mental music stream when I was thinking about how Trump wastes the world.
Lives are being wasted by Trump’s hate, biases, indifference. Opportunities wasted by his greed and ego. He’s creating a wasted world, ignoring warnings about climate change, starting wars that destabilize the diplomatic order, breaking agreements which fracture the business world, raising havoc and prices.
Then he tells us it’s all going great.
The biggest question on my mind for the peace president, unifier, and founder of the Board of Peace is, when will Trump stop the bombing and killing that he started, so that others can begin picking up the pieces and putting things back together?
I hope this day isn’t a waste for you. May peace and grace find and keep you.
It shows here. We started at 34 when I rolled out of bed but with blue skies and sunshine, we’ve jumped fast to 50 F, hurtling toward the mid 60s. Best way to put it, with the daffs and tulips blooming and plum tree blossoms enriching the landscape, it’s a beautiful springish day.
Mom and my sisters are quiet, as is my house. In fact, while many things are going on in politics and world news, I feel like I’m waiting for the multiple systems to react — and maybe crash.
So I feed the cat, read the news. My wife and I think and talk as I sip coffee. All the while, I keep an eye on the headlines and digital stream and check my text and messaging systems.
Time was also spent looking at what the state has been up to. The Oregon legislative session ended. Our rep, Pam Marsh, put out a summary of the work done, a welcome reassurance that some government remains grounded, pragmatic, and functional.
Today’s music reflects that sense of waiting. The Neurons are playing “The Promised Land” by Bruce Springsteen in my morning mental music stream. I hum along with the thought of what was promised and what’s been delivered. This is not just in my life as an adult, but what was held out to us as children. Growing up in the television age, we were often sold impressions about stable, white families with Dad going to work and the children going to school and getting into minor mischief. Mom stayed home and cooked in her skirt or dress, wearing high heels as she vacuumed, did the laundry, cooked. Some shows — like “Hazel” — featured more prosperity, and a maid.
More realistic shows came along, such as “The Jeffersons” and “All in the Family”, but our beliefs were hardened by then. Yet, it didn’t often work out as television claimed it would.
Anyway, here I am, waiting.
Hope you have a great day and all that means to you. Peace and grace on you.
Ashland, Oregon — Wednesday, March 11, 2026. 34 degrees F under blue skies latticed with thin, white clouds. Today’s high will climb into the fifties.
As part of a messy life stream, things continue on the Mom and news fronts.
The first new oil refinery in Texas in fifty years was announced. Trump is all over the money aspect, citing $300 billion dollars, which makes it really impressive in his mind. Two things struck me about the announcement.
Trump announced it as a “America First” thing but it’s funded by an Indian oil billionaire. Pretty good marketing hype.
Secondly, many headlines said that Trump announced the opening of a new oil refinery. Was it being opened or built? As I researched it, I couldn’t find basic answers to how long construction will take and when it will open.
I finally learned that it’s going to be built, with construction beginning later in 2026, and it’ll cost $4 billion to build. At this point, it’s a proposal. It won’t start operating until 2-3 years later. “America First” is the name of the company developing the refinery, a partnership with the Indian company, “Reliant Industries Limited”.
The hype around it reminds me of Cadillac’s Formula 1 effort. They put out a huge Super Bowl ad which including some of JFK’s speech about putting a man on the moon. They said, “The Mission Begins!” “We have liftoff!”
It annoyed me because I was struck that they acted like they on the cutting edge of something new and amazing, and not another new racing team in a series that’s been around for decades. What was more stunning was I later realized that Cadillac was using Ferrari engines for the first two years.
My sisters reminded me about a Mom fact which I never thought about. Mom always dressed nice. My older sister claims Mom had thirty pairs of high heels. But Mom often claimed poverty for us. We couldn’t afford to do things and often had to skimp. We did always have shelter and food, and Christmas presents were usually lavish. But my sisters all remember struggling to have clothes themselves.
Anyway, I responded to Mom last night as she reached out to me again. She was referencing texts which I didn’t have. I don’t know where the disconnect is. Her texts were about payments to the assisted living facility. I texted back, “What is your situation and what is your plan?”
She responded, “You finally answered. The situation is I’m in assisted living and I have a roommate so I think the pay is 4500 a month. I asked Lori yesterday what happens when I ran out of money and she said you have a house don’t you and yes but they’re not going to sell it until the spring and then I realize what she meant by they will put a lien against the house and when I die, the house is theirs if I would be here a long time which I don’t plan on being here a long time. So glad you answered me, Michael because just. because Sharon is through with me, Gina has been through with me for a long time. She had also told me that Lisa has always hated me so there’s nobody left Michael very upsetting to me that all my children hate me. But thank you for answering me tonight. See you later alligator.”
I sent that information on to my sisters so they’re aware of it.
I haven’t heard from Mom since, which isn’t surprising. In the last six months, she has a cycle of staying up late, texting into the night, and then sleeping through the day. She becomes angrier and meaner during those periods, more frantic. Then she grows lucid and nice, normal for a few days.
On to my normal day. The Neurons have placed “Schizophrenia” by Sonic Youth in the morning mental music stream. It’s an interesting song.
Sipping on some coffee, looking at the pale sky. I hope your day lives up to your best dreams for yourself.
It’s good to laugh, especially when I can laugh at Trump. Jill Dennison again provides the need laugh-fuel for a weary feeling March Tuesday. Here are my top choices from her terrific solution. Hope you read the rest and find your own.
Michael Seidel, writer 