Clouds have overtaken Ashlandia again. It’s a cool summery start to June, this being Sunda, June 2, 2025, and a pleasant way to ease out of spring, that being the current rotation, as we’re north of 0 degrees latitude.
Did you read about the mutation which they believe give orange cats their color? Scientists track down mutation that makes orange cats orange. The story comments, “It took researchers a century to find the genetic glitch that causes orange coloration in cats.” Turns out the Arhgap36 gene was involved. Go figure, right? They weren’t able to find any explanations for the orange personality, though.
Today’s song is in honor of PINO TACO. TACO, which means, “Trump Always Chickening Out”, has become PINO Trump’s favorite nickname. *snark*. The Neurons came up with it as I was breaking my fast. Into my morning mental music came “Macho Man”, the 1978 Village People song. But instead of the song’s original lyrics, The Neurons were singing “TACO, TACO man. PINO Trump is such a TACO man.” And so on. The revised lyrics don’t make a lick of sense, but it’s a rock parody, and it’s fun singing that PINO Trump is such a TACO man.” Heh.
Now, I must press on. My oven igniter replacement DIY project is underway. It’s been fraught with issues. Blood pressure has probably gone higher than any mountain. So, onward once again. I think I’ll start with some tacos. Some reason, I’m craving them.
And reminder, this is Jun 1. Big demonstrations planned for Jun 14. Be there or be a MAGAt. Cheers
Yesterday was a hot one, as they advertised. Today, Saturda, May 31, 2025, is expected to cool into the mid-80s. It’s 72 F and sunny now, and the clouds have ran away for grayer skies.
It’s May’s last day. Five months of 2025 are history. It’s been as chaotic as a Black Friday sale in the United States. As we spring into summer, I’m not enthused about what will come out of the Gold House, as Nan calls it. Her reasoning is spot on. It ssed to be the White House, but the present occupant, PINO TACO, is remaking it in the right’s craven, gold-worshipping image. They say that’s what the Bible says to do.
From Gold House, I crossed to Heart of Gold.My Neurons went onto a Neil Young kick. Soon they had “Old Man” playing in the morning mental music stream. The music faded for a while as I rambled through a litany of problems, stories, and challenges. Some were personal and narrowly defined from my novel-writing half of living. Thoughts about Mom’s health boiled in, and then came sympathy for a friend who is enduring a mess in his life. Prosaic matters like fixing the oven — the part has arrived — took over. Then there’s the ever-growing worries about the human rights, war, climate change, the nation, the world, and measles.
There are 1,088 confirmed measles cases in the U.S., up 42 from last week, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention said Friday. Texas, where the nation’s biggest outbreak raged during the late winter and spring, reported 10 additional cases this week for a total of 738.
The Neurons shot a gap to bring “Don’t Let It Get You Down” by Neil Young into the morning mental music stream. It’s a 1970 song which will probably get you down, because it makes you listen, think, and feel. I once heard a DJ say that Young announced this song by saying, “This song is guaranteed to bring you down. It’s called “Don’t Let It Get You Down”.” It was a song I preferred to hear with a glass of red wine, either overlooking a body of water at sunset, or in a dark room, alone.
Into the day I go, with a cuppa coffee to help me carry the load. Funny, but our existence is fleeting in the great rush of time and space, but sometimes it seems so long.
Got up early, cut the grass. It’s Frida. Gonna be 95 F plus here in Ashlandia today. It’s 85 F now, all pretty typical for May’s penultimate day, the 30th, in 2025. Connectivity issues are stalking me in the coffee shop, which is also typical for when it’s hot, cold, wet, snowy, windy, or stormy. This post took an extra chunk of time because connectivity drops, and the categories and tags would disappear. Sigh of frustration.
Papi has taken early to his hot weather hidey hole among the vinca on the house’s side yard.
The photo was taken through the window glass, between the blinds, with my phone. Papi is usually hyper aware of sound, so I didn’t want to move the blinds and risk waking him. That’s me, don’t-disturb-the-cat Michael.
The news spin is so fast, it’s like trying to catch Road Runner. Just ask Wile E. Coyote how challenging that is, and he’s a super genius. Tariffs are on hold, tariffs are back, the Roberts Court ruled for TACO, the SCOTUS ruled against TACO. Senators are speaking against Trump, speakers have just supported his agenda. The stock market is up, the stock market is down.
Speaking of super geniuses,TACO sent the stock market tumbling with accusations that China has been caught cheating on tariffs. Given TACO’s usual M.O., that means the TACO Regime was probably caught cheating. Or they’re playing squirrel again, trying to distract us from news and information which TACO finds upsetting and doesn’t want us to notice. It might just be that he’s trying to make us forget that we’re calling him TACO now.
LET’S GO, TACO!
There. Don’t know if he got that. It’s our version of “Let’s Go, Brandon” that made the right so happy last year. Maybe if more of us did it, TACO will get the message. So, let’s all amplify it via social media:
News reading and wondering what fresh bad news is rising for TACO has The Neurons firing up “Duran Duran” with “Is There Something I Should Know?” from 1983 in the morning mental music stream. I suppose it could be the Propublica and Texas Tribune article (shared here via Alternet) that the Trump Regime knew that the Venezuelans they deported were not the criminals claimed. Maybe there’s worse economic news coming that’s prompting the Trump Regime to shout, “Squirrel!” Time will tell.
Hope your Frida works out well for you. Hope mine works out for me and my family, too. Let’s make it the best one we can. Coffee is at hand. Here we go again. Cheers
It’s been over two weeks since I last heard the furnace warming our house. That pleases me. Pleases my mango tango, the ginger floof known as Papi even more. He scampers in to say hello and eat but otherwise lives a life snoozing in secret places among cooling bushes and vinca. Not a bad life for him, I think.
Today is Wenzda, May 28, 2025. Munda passed in a flounce. Tuesday barely registered for me. Here I sit on Wenzda, enjoying blue sky and sunshine. Air temp is already 80 F with 88 in our sights today. Later this week, we expect to push past 90 F. We’ll soon see the green hills on the valley’s northern sun brown like baking bread.
I went to cut back the backyard. The weeds had shoot up to a foot in height. Finally turned my attention to whacking it back, but when I went out there — bees were buzzing around the weeds. I was so pleased to see them. A hummingbird zipped by, too. Hallelujah, sang The Neurons. Out front, a thick buzz was rising from the tree upfront which the bees regularly frequent. They hadn’t been around yet and I was happy to see them back.
The Neurons have blessed the morning mental music stream with “Bad Company”. “Bad Company” is a 1974 power ballad by the group called “Bad Company”. Ostensibly, it relates to the chosen life of being a gunslinger but to hear him say it, he really had no choice. I can dig that; I feel as if choice is taken from me when it comes to writing. This boy’s gotta do it. However, I don’t know why The Neurons plugged “Bad Company” into my head. Was this a reference to people coming into town to visit, or were they making a disparaging remark about my attitude? Hard to say with The Neurons. They jump out with a claim and then dance away before they can be questioned.
Over in the political quarter of my life, I read about Republican Rep. Mike Flood’s town hall meeting in Nebraska. Flood was there chatting about the disastrous bill that the Greedy Old Trump Party passed in the House last week. When called out about one provision, Flood admitted that he didn’t know the provision was in it because he hadn’t read the bill.
Republican Rep. Mike Flood appeared before his constituents in Nebraska on Tuesday for a town hall that turned ugly as he tried to defend President Donald Trump’s “big, beautiful bill,” the reconciliation package the House of Representatives passed last week, and which is expected to force millions of Americans off their health care coverage and food aid.
Unfortunately, Flood hadn’t actually read the bill.
Flood could barely get through a sentence without facing boos and heckling from the audience. At one point, when asked about a provision in the GOP’s massive reconciliation package that would restrict the judiciary’s ability to hold government officials in contempt, Flood said he did not agree with the provision, before admitting that the “provision was unknown to me when I voted for that.”
That’s what we’re hearing time and again from Republicans in Congress: the classic but weak defense, “I didn’t know.” It’s especially weak when it’s their job to know. That’s why he was voted into office, wasn’t it? As their servant and representative? As seen across the nation during PINO Trump’s first four months in office in 2025, rising numbers of constituents are pissed that their representatives aren’t doing their jobs. Flood went on to claim that he’s taken an oath that he’ll defend the Constitution. As always, actions speak louder than words. With his inaction, he’s complicit in undermining the Constitution, our checks and balances, and the rule of law. Likewise, he’s part of the party gleefully tearing down the education system that helped the United States advance as it did last century. But as part of the Greedy Old Trump Party, he can’t see or admit what he’s doing.
Rep. Mike Flood is a DOGE Faithful and Trump lover. Back in March, his constituents called him out for DOGE’s cuts to research, Medicaid, and Medicare. Flood defended it by saying that cuts were needed because of the national debt. Back then, Flood said, “Ultimately, where we need to go is to a balanced budget. How can you be against a balanced budget?” This, before passing that bill that cut taxes for the wealthy. It all reeks of bullshit and hypocrisy, doesn’t it? The way they’re ‘governing’ is a crime.
Okay, out of lecture mode. Coffee has been embraced; into writing mode. Have the best day you can, and do things that make you hold your head up high. Cheers
Life before the net. Do I remember those dark, soulless days? Oh, yeah. I remember those days, just as I recall life without the world wide web, life without cable and DVDs, life without CDs, eight-track and cassette tapes, life without microwaves, and life without cell phones and more than three networks. I remember life without remote controls, which my wife calls, the clicker.
Yes, I remember buying my first personal computer. I remember using the first one at home. Then I recall signing us up for Compuserve and Mindnet. I remember getting my first email address and having no one to email. That soon changed. Viagra offers quickly found my inbox. With it came an understanding of something non-meaty called ‘Spam’ and wealthy Nigerians in need of money.
Yes, I remember pre-net life. Primarily because our TV schedule was fixed according to the cable schedule. Cheers on Thursday, for example. But when the net came into its full flowering, I was able to find a huge variety of things to stream from around the world, watching them when I wanted, instead of waiting for their schedule. Long as I was willing to pay for it.
With the net, the days of going to the front door and looking for the daily newspaper disappeared. There was no need for all that inked paper to stack up and get put out for the trash. Now the news was right there online. I didn’t need to wait until 6 PM to check to see what was happening. Of course, information about what was happening locally soon began fading. We could no longer just pick up the paper and turn to the police log to see what the hell the sirens were all about the other day. No, that faded. Now, there are sometimes stories on Facebook or Nextdoor. Some others are struggling to bring the local news back to us. It’s a challenge. Many efforts arise and fall.
Freedom came with online ordering, too. I no longer needed to prowl through brick and mortar stores, making comparisons, trying to figure out what to buy. Boom, the net was heavy with choices. It was still onerous in the early days to compare things but then came Amazon… Suddenly, whoa. It was a desperate consumer’s dream.
Do you know what it was like to travel in pre-net days? Calling the airlines to get price checks, listening to them look up schedules for you, explaining options? Same with hotels. Expedia and the like made it easier…for a while. But wherever money and humans are involved with money transactions and information, others are there to scam us for their share of the pie.
Yes, I remember life before the net. It was simpler and harder, easier, and more problematic. That’s how it always is with progress. Each step unfolds with new and surprising insights, and the things we used to do begin to fade.
Just think: one day, people will be asking, do you remember life before AI?
And someone will reply, I remember the days before cars. And then we’ll all wonder, what was that like, and turn to AI for the answer.
The morning’s routine skipped past faster than a visit with a good friend. Starting at 53 F when Papi ordered me out of bed, the sun pushed the day through the sixties in short order. It’s a hot sun. Yeah, all suns are hot, but you know what I mean, that given air temp and sun angle and other factors, this one puts out extensive heat in our region. A cool northerly breeze sometimes drops in with relief. We sit at 75 F as we race toward an 89 F high. Sunshine? You bet. Blue sky cuts a fine scene behind the green themes of the hills and mountains surrounding us. Ice still caps the highest posts for a moment. This is Twosda, May 27, 2025.
My wife and I spoke about transitioning out of the holiday mode. I said, “Isn’t it interesting that we’re aware of that, that we feel that, even though we don’t work? Yet, we feel that holiday spirit.”
She made a face. “It was a weak holiday. We have the so-called leader of our country denigrating and insulting many of those who fought for this country because of a difference in politics or skin color and things like that. It’s pretty sad. Pathetic, really.”
No argument from me. I’m pleased that with the bad weather warnings and air traffic control issues, no major disaster marred the weekend. That feels like slim praise: yea, no crashes! We made it. But that’s the state of the nation under Trump.
I read that consumer confidence was up higher than economists expected. I heard that it was because Trump put off doing something with tariffs. People apparently responded, “Yea, we’re saved!” I had to laugh. Like the arsonist didn’t start a fire, so everyone is happy because there’s no fire to put out.
Meanwhile, the Senate takes up Trump’s Big Disastrous Bill. One of them at least and at last mentioned the piece of non-finance legislation in this spending bill that says, “Courts can’t say Trump or his administration are in contempt.” So they just want to keep re-writing the laws to cut out criticism of his un-Constitutional behavior. That’s so sad, weak, and spineless. If the merits his decisions and ideas can’t stand the scrutiny of the law, they’re not worthwhile. By calling for weaker enforcement against him, the Greedy Old Trump Party just hastens us toward the bottom. We’ve been climbing that mountain for hundreds of years and they’re happily pushing us back down it.
Dreams influence by music choice today. A lasting image from my dream had me speeding through a bold blue sky. It wasn’t flying but free fall. But The Neurons supplied “Fly By Night” by Rush to my morning mental music stream. The progressive rock song from 1975 has a spirited, uplifting feel to it. It came out the year my wife and I married, and was sort of an anthem for me as I went about my military career. Neurons have it right as a theme choice, I think, as the lyrics go, “Fly by night away from here, change my life again.” That’s about how I feel, but in a good way.
Coffee has made its entrance. Time to rock on. I hope the best for you and your day. Here we go again. Cheers
We’ve made it through another cycle, and we’re set up to repeat it again. I mean the week, of course. Today is May 26, 2025. The month is singing its last notes. Many associate Memorial Day in the U.S. with the beginning of summer. I’m a traditionalist, though, and recognize summer’s start with the June solstice, as we’re north of the equator. The weather doesn’t care what we’re calling the season; it’s gonna do as it wants. Today, it looks like it wants more cloudiness baking with some sunshine. 60 F now, we’re be roaming the seventies through the late afternoon.
My bright mood has expired. Darkness has soldiered in. That’s my standard cycle. I just need deep breaths and patience to survive it, and then more normal moods will rotate in, and it’ll be up and down again for a while. That’s me.
“With each new Republican administration, it is the same promise. With each round of tax cuts, it is the same result: vast benefits for the wealthiest Americans and a pittance for everyone else. There is little growth but widening inequality and an even starker gap between the haves and have-nots.“
Reagan promised tax cuts in 1981. Bush Senior was forced into tax increases to address the damage done by Reagan’s cuts. Dubya promised tax cuts, and then Trump in 2017, and now Trump in 2025. Each time those cuts came, the economy did not do better. It took Democrats in charge to clean up the economic mess and get the economy on track again. And here we go again. Will it work this time when it failed every other effort? Time will tell.
But as Mr. Bouie writes of this latest effort:
We are now looking at another round of Republican tax cuts. Yet again the claim is that this will benefit most Americans. “The next phase of our plan to deliver the greatest economy in history is for this Congress to pass tax cuts for everybody,” Trump said in his March 4 address to Congress. But as Paul Krugman points out in his Substack newsletter, this latest package is both a shameless giveaway to the rich and a ruinous cut to safety net programs for lower-income and working Americans.
Today’s song comes from reading about the viral corruption spreading under the Trump Regime. Out of that GRRRRRRRRRR news review, The Neurons dropped “Perry Mason” by Ozzy into the morning mental music stream. Perry Mason is a fictitious lawyer of high repute. He saved the innocent and delivered the guilty for a serving of justice. He came onto the scene in a series of Erle Stanley Gardner novels in the 1930s and joined the pop culture as a television show starring Raymond Burr in the 1950s and 1960s. Yes, I know of the later series. Anyway… Ozzy Osbourne put some words to music by guitarist Zakk Wylde and keyboard player John Sinclair. The song’s chorus goes,
Another sun filled blue sky day cups Ashlandia. It’s a quiet one out there. Like it’s a holiday and everyone else has gone away. They don’t know about the 70 degrees F and sun-kissed wind toying with our hair in Ashlandia. Clouds are gathering and we’ll top off our temperatures at 75 plus F today.
Papi is loving this weather, prancing in and out of the house with his tail up. Whenever we go out back, he emerges from his sun nap to visit with us.
This, for the record, is May 25, 2025, part of the Memorial Day holiday weekend in the United States. As always, my wife and I compare our childhood Memorial Days. For her, it was Decoration Day. Her family would make the pilgrimage by car to the family’s graveyards. They had two, one for Mom’s family, and the other for Dad’s line. Both were born and raised in southern West Virginia and had a family line that went back several hundred years. The graveyard was cleaned up, if needed, and fresh flowers were put on the graves.
My family, in contrast, were relatively new, in some ways. Mom’s side came over on the Mayflower and kept moving west. She was born in Turin, Iowa in the 1930s. Her grandfather helped establish the town, and her mother was born in Turin in 1910. Dad’s father’s family came over in 1899, went to Pittsburgh, PA, and stayed. His mother’s family arrived in Pittsburgh a little bit later and also stayed.
Memorial Day for me, then, wasn’t and isn’t about graves, but about sports, family, and food. As I aged, it did become more about military service and sacrifice. Now it’s just my wife and I out here in Oregon. Her mobility and diet are limited, and Memorial Day has been relegated to just another spot on the calendar.
My theme music today relates to a conversation with my wife this morning. A friend highlighted a post for me on Facebook. I don’t go much on Facebook. My wife doesn’t have a FB account but uses mine to lurk, so she saw the post and told me about it. The post is about misunderstood song lyrics — mondegreens. One song was “Panama” by Van Halen. A popular mondegreen, unfamiliar to me, is that they’re singing “padded bra!” instead of “Panama!” Reading this to me, my wife sang the “padded bra!” part, cracking herself up. The Neurons immediately shipped the song into the morning mental music stream, where it shares time with my thoughts.
My wife and I were in the office this morning, each pursuing our computer agendas. Suddenly she bursts, “There’s a FEMA carveout for Trump’s residences in the bill that was just passed.” She was livid. “Trump doesn’t send FEMA to help anyone any more but if one of his places are hit, he’s taken care of. This is ridiculous! This is disgusting! He’s supposed to be the servant of the people, not the other way around. When will those idiots wake up?”
A few minutes later and she launched into Trump’s latest crypto scam, piling on about how he’s using the presidency to enrich herself. I commiserate but don’t otherwise respond. I don’t want to go down the rabbit hole of how Trump and the Greedy Ol’ Trump Party is enshittifying the United States. I’m taking the day off from it.
Hope you have the best day you can. I’m gonna try to do the same. Coffee is at hand. And away we go.
Mid-morning, it’s 60 F today, Saturda, May 24, 2025, in Ashlandia. The sky is summer blue. 84 F is projected as our plateau. My neighbor is out working on a project involving cars, trailers, campers, and motorcycles. That’s who he is. He’s often away, but when he’s home, people frequently arrive to bring things or take them away. He’s a gregarious man with a carrying voice, and will do whatever he can to help people.
Papi was out early and quick, enjoying the weather. Watching him through a window, I saw him hunting. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Papi in hunting cat mode. In tall grass back in the yard, not far from the fence and some bushes, he was hardwired into something going on at his feet. I opened the door and stepped out to check the weather. He gave me one fast look and returned to his activity. I don’t know what his prey was. A little later, he came in for his second breakfast.
I read that the Trump Regime is gutting the Space Force. Wasn’t he the one who created that?
But that’s Trump and subsequently, the United States under Trump, tottering around with little focus, babbling something one day and then on to something else with a toddler’s ambition but less curiosity. His only constants are that he’s hired a cabinet full of reality-displaced people willing to prop him up and lie like and for him, and his golfing and bragging. It’s not a good way to run a nation, as people might find out, when they wake up and climb out from under their rocks and prejudices.
Trump also signed an EO to hasten the building of nuclear powerplants. Because when you’re dealing with a deadly force that has the potential to kill and sicken millions, building fast is very important. Given the Trump Regime’s tendency to be hasty, mistake-prone underthinkers, I’m not looking forward to that result.
Trump has also signed EO to cut down the national parks and forests. Like, who needs trees when we need to build? Look at all that land that they can use for homes and buildings! That there is no infrastructure to support all their feverish dreams of all those homes and buildings never entered their thinking. Nor did the impact to the environment when all those trees are removed. Historically, we know what happens to air quality, soil erosion, and flooding when trees are removed in great quantities and the topography is drastically changed. But the Trump Regime proudly shuns history and knowledge, and too much of the nation follow him like lemings, little Trump-faced orange lemmings in red MAGA hats, marching right over a cliff.
Oh, yeah, and then there’s a real knee slapper in the news: Trump is blaming former President Obama for leaking secrets to Russia. Sure, I believe that *snark*. It’s more likely that Trump is trying to distract us with verbal sleight of hand while more illegal shit gets underway and another disaster is uncovered. He’s using Mr. Obama because Mr. Biden is now suffering from an aggressive cancer. While Trump cares less about that, he’s a sharp con man and knows that people have sympathy for Mr. Biden.
In honor of Trump, Project 2025, the Heritage Foundation, and the MAGA lemmings, The Neurons have channeled Molly Hatchet’s 1979 southern rocker, “Flirtin’ with Disaster”, into the morning mental music stream. All of the original members of Molly Hatchet have passed on. Kind of sobering, as all were younger than me. Thinking about that is one of those ‘knock on wood’ moments.
Some sample lyrics, from lyrics.com, for your perusal.
We're flirtin' with disaster,
Ya'll know what I mean
And the way we run our lives,
It makes no sense to me
I don't know about yourself or what you want to be, yeah
When we gamble with our time,
We choose our destiny
I'm travelin' down that lonesome road
Feel like I'm dragging a heavy load
Yeah I've tried to turn my head away,
Feels about the same most every day
You know what I'm talking about, baby
Here we go, into the day once again. Rock on. Cheers
I’m still riding a good mood. Knock on wood, right? Well, depends on your age and beliefs, I guess. I was speaking with someone the other day who claimed that ‘knocking on wood’ was to summon good spirits. I always heard/slash read it was the opposite: to scare off evil spirits or to avoid tempting fate.
Today is Frida, May 23, 2025. Sunny in Ashlandia, we’re anticipating a warm stretch. It’s not going to be a steady rise. Today will be 75, tomorrow will be 82 F, and then it drops a little again before rising into the nineties by Wenzda. Clouds lurk like spectators at a crime scene but blue sky and sunshine are on the main stage.
Per usual in Trumpland, the news is a blender full of good and bad news. Supreme Court rulings, miscarriage of justice, vindictive DOJ action on Trump’s behalf, redistribution of wealth to the wealthy at everyone else’s expense catch most of my attention. I was intrigued to see how expensive beef is becoming. I don’t eat much beef so prices have skyrocketed without me noticing. Lot of it is driven by Texas beef and the cost of feed. The cost of feed has increased because of drought. Don’t worry; Trump will be all over this, as he’s a big advocate of addressing climate change. Yes, that’s snark. We know Trump will try to blame former President Joe Biden and the Democrats for it. I’ll just shake my head and move on until the rest catchup. With tariffs on beef from multiple countries, beef prices are set to increase more.
Today’s music is related to a dream. I was in the kitchen, chatting with Papi, aka butter butt, about his brekkie when dream snippets floated in on my brain waves. As more dream made its way into memory, I recalled an individual in the dream telling me, “Don’t forget me when I’m gone. I won’t forget you.” It’d been a touching dream scene.
The Neurons were on that like Trump jumping on a woman. “Don’t Forget Me (When I’m Gone)” was soon playing in my morning mental music stream. I had no idea what year it came out or who performed it. The net helped me learn that it was 1986 and a Canadian group called Glass Tiger.
Alright. Got my coffee at the coffee shop. Sunshine is warming the outside world, and shadows grow shorter and sharper as we move into the afternoon. It’s Memorial Day weekend and vehicle traffic in Ashland has jumped. Hope you have an awesome day. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 