Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: Fallandfell

Today is Thursday, September 12, 2024. A chilly morning here in Ashlandia, the rain has stopped and the sun is crowning over obstacles, trying to toast us a little today. Right now, it’s 54 F, and the high won’t wander much more than the low seventies.

Yesterday was supposed to see us in the upper seventies. We never made that mark at my place. When I was out writing, rain was dumping on the intersection where the coffee shop sits. Like, wow, very cool to see the silver bullets splashing up on the soaked asphalt and cement. Heavy streams built up fast, gushing into sewers. But driving home, just a four minute event, I was quickly out of the rain; we didn’t see that rain event at our place. Weather can be fickle like that.

The cats took to the rain like cats who don’t like water. After some feeble efforts to assert himself as an outdoor animal, Papi stretched out in front of the fireplace. Although it wasn’t on, it has a pilot light when I lit a few days ago, so it emits some heat. He stayed there for hours, deeply asleep. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) on the other hand headed for the bed and sacked out.

Last night at the beer gathering, a small group ended up discussing birds. One asked about robins and their migration habits. Like me, he’d been taught in grade school that robins fly away for the winter. Like many life aspects, it gets more complicated than that. Our retired biology professor recounted that a friend of his did several bird counts at a slough for several years and discoverved exactly where the local robin population went each winter, living off various winter berries.

Other than that, we talked about the election and the debate, and the vice president’s pearl earrings. You now, on the right, they believe those were audio devices, giving Vice President Harris an affair advantage over Trump. That’s why he did so poorly. Because how else could he have done so poorly when she did so well? Yes, that was morning snark, undiluted by coffee.

The Neurons fired up Stevie Ray Vaughn and Double Trouble from 1989 in the morning mental music stream (Trademark caught). The song is “Crossfire”. It seemed to come into mind as I gazed across the valley. The air feels like autumn but most of the trees didn’t get the text in this area. And then I just sort of mused about how we were caught between the two seasons. And ‘lo, “Crossfire” began playing. I always particularly enjoyed the lines, “Money tight, nothing for free. Won’t somebody come and rescue me.” Used to sort of identify with it.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote blue in 2024. Breakfast has been consumed; so has some coffee. Time to get up and do things. Here’s the music. Cheers

Wednesday’s Political Thoughts

NYTimes article today:

Pundits Said Harris Won the Debate. Undecided Voters Weren’t So Sure.

“She still has to impress me,” said Ms. Ali, 19. As someone who recently moved into her own place off-campus and has had to buy groceries for the first time, Ms. Ali said she wanted to hear Ms. Harris speak more about housing costs and inflation. “I’m still deciding,” she said as the debate neared its end.

Seriously? And she heard something from Trump that reassured her?

Keilah Miller, 34, who lives in Milwaukee, grew intrigued by Ms. Harris too. Ms. Miller said she had voted Democratic in past presidential elections but decided to stop voting altogether about a year ago. Her own situation, and that of other Black women in Milwaukee, had not improved, she said.

On Tuesday, she felt nudged unexpectedly toward Mr. Trump.

“Trump’s pitch was a little more convincing than hers,” Ms. Miller said. “I guess I’m leaning more on his facts than her vision.”

Facts? Trump’s pitch? What facts, what pitch? Project 2025? The fake narrative that immigrants are eating pets in Ohio, or the false one about “abortion after birth being legal in six states”?

Mr. Henderson, who voted for President Barack Obama and then for Mr. Trump, allowed that Mr. Trump “came off as crazy,” but he was no different from his appearances at rallies and in interviews.

His answers on Ukraine were weak, he said, but Mr. Trump successfully attacked Ms. Harris on the border and immigration. While the vice president gave better answers on abortion and race, he said, she did not get into specifics about her tax plans for parents or small businesses.

As he watched post-debate commentary on cable news, Mr. Henderson said he bristled at the pundits who widely panned Mr. Trump’s performance. Had they watched the same debate, he wondered?

Yes, did this man, this undecided voter, watch the same debate as the rest of us? He acknowledged that Trump acted crazy but seems to be okay with a crazy president.

I just don’t get their logic. It seems like they’re trying hard to come across as thoughtful and impartial, but I end up seeing them as short-sighted, misguided, and uninformed. Fer instance, Mr. Henderson, did you know that a bi-partisan bill for the border had been worked out and that Trump ordered it nixed because he didn’t want Democrats to be successful?

Sigh. Moving on.

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Precipitized

Autumn was hulking against the house by the back door, sometimes gently tapping to come in. I opened the door. A lush gush waltzed in and danced around the room.

I’ve decided that I like autumn better than summer and winter. Winter and summer are fickle about their temperatures and weather offerings. Autumn seems more relaxed and straightforward about it. Yes, warm days will come, with some soaring temperatures which somehow complements a view of autumnal foliage against a blue sky. Mostly, though, memories of autumn has me anticipated a level stream of gently declining temperatures as tree shed their leaves and winter begins gracing us.

It’s Wednesday, 9/11/2024. A moment to remember that morning, seared into so many of our brains, sharp-edged memories formed as our daily routines were put on hold and we watched our televisions.

It’s 55 F at my house. My wife was up early to get ready for her exercise class. She told me after I got up that she came in and whispered to me, “It’s raining,” but I was deeply asleep and did not hear.

A little later, Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah), shouted, “It’s raining and I’m hungry and get up and feed me.” Which I did.

Ah, rain. Small drops, lighty falling, wetting everything, and releasing gases that waft up to us and awakens rain memories. The smell is so rich.

Our air is so clear and fresh this morning. Purple has the readings around me in single digits. Airnow.gov has us at 25.

Today’s high will be in the upper sixties.

I’m looking forward to having something done about my injured foot. Although I wear my brace when I’m out and about, strange complaints and sharp pains will jump out. “Hey, don’t bend me that way,” it yells. “Watch where you’re stepping. You want pain, I’ll give you pain.” I know, it’s a very small thing to endure compare to what many others suffer. I’m just a whiner.

I’m not going to comment much on the debate last night. I will say that my personal confidence and hope that Kamala Harris becomes POTUS number 47 pole-vaulted into new levels.

With the debate and the rain and season shift, The Neurons have plugged a Steve Perry song into the morning mental music stream (Trademark gone). “Oh Sherrie” was released in 1984. I don’t know why it’s in my head this morning. I can’t trace a relationship to anything that I thought, did, or dreamed. It’s just there as I walked into the office, coffee cup in hand, swallowing the last of a fig, and gazed out the window at the green mountains, flat gray sky, and cautiously falling rain. The Neurons work in mysterious ways.

Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue in 2024. Coffee is half gone. Here’s the music video — Steve Perry with Journey playing his hit single. Cheers

Tuesday’s Political Thoughts

Trump’s latest is — hold up.

This is Donald J. Trump. Felon. Just to verify who I’m writing about. He’s the Republican nominee for President of the United States in 2024. One-time POTUS, elected back in 2016, he failed to hold onto the office in 2020, but he refuses to go away.

Trump’s latest declaration is that children are getting sex change operations at school. Going in as one sex, coming home as another.

“Kamala supports states being able to take minor children and perform sex change operations, take them away from their parents, perform sex change operations, and send them back home,” Trump said in a Mosinee, Wisconsin speech.

That’s one of the greatest most out of touch things I’ve heard of him saying. Crazier than his speculation about getting killed by sharks versus being electrocuted if your electric boat sank.

Crazier than his declaration that Mexico will pay for a border wall. Crazier than his lies that wasn’t what he said.

Crazier than windmills causing cancer.

Crazier than his recounting of how the American military took the airports during the American Revolutionary war.

Crazier than his idea that raking forests may help prevent forest fires.

Crazier than his assertion that he actually won the 2020 election, even though he also admits that he lost it. Crazier than his assertion that he has ‘every right’ to interfere in the election results. Crazier than his declaration that he’d been dictator on day one. Crazier than his insistence he knows nothing about Project 2025, despite the evidence of him bragging about it.

Do you realize how crazy and out of touch this latest is? Schools don’t have the money to buy school supplies, and he thinks they have enough money for surgical operations?

C’mon, man. Where are the operating rooms? Are teachers doing this surgery or are they hiring surgeons on the sly? Maybe he thinks the surgeons are volunteers, right?

Seriously, though, this is the best the GOP has to offer the nation, the world, and themselves, a man claiming without any evidence that children are being operated on in schools?

That party has lost its way.

Vote blue in 2024. Please, please, please. Are you seriously willing to accept a person who makes such baseless claims?

If so, I have an airport to sell you. It’s secret, though, at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. Trump goes there all the time. You’ll love it.

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Anticipedged

It’s Tuesday, September 10, 2024. The national elections are 56 days away. Vice President Kamala Harris and felon Donald Trump will debate policies and positions tonight to sway undecided voters. I expect Donald Trump to lie…a lot. I expect him to act like a little and put on an entertaining act for his base. He is all low-style and little substance. I don’t expect him to say anything about Project 2025; if he does, he’ll probably deny having anything to do with it.

I expect Kamala Harris to be well-spoken, intelligent, and upbeat.

We’ll see what happens. Kinda holding my breath. The Harris – Walz campaign has demonstrated a lot of positive energy IMO. My wife and friends are also pretty stoked. But the media casts the race as being a dead heat. While we scratch our heads and ask WTF, we wonder what people are seeing and thinking in the nation’s other regions.

Second point to that, I thought President Biden was going to be strong at his debate with Trump. Instead, President Biden’s performance ended with him stepping aside for Veep Harris a few weeks. Not a bad move in the end, but the debate night performance undermined my confidence about my perceptions and thinking. So I’m leery about tonight.

It’s 62 degrees F outside of my Ashlandia home. Today’s high will be a comfortable 83 F. The air is fresher again today, with little hint of smoke. I’ve watched people walking — with and without dogs, alone and in pairs — and runners, taking advantage of the temperature and clean air. Airnow.gov pegs the air quality for Ashlandia overall at 52, just above ‘good’. Purpleair shows the air quality is 33 down the street and 75 up the street. We’ll see how it flows.

We’re pretty excited at my house. Rain is in the forecast for tomorrow. Rain, with a high in the 60s. Giddyup.

I’m anxious about the elections. I tell myself I need patience and to be positive. The Neurons responded this morning by springing the 1989 Guns N’ Roses “Patience” on the morning mental music stream (Trademark worn). Yes, a little patience to get through this is mo def needed for this era. I’m a person who struggles to be patient at times. That’s what led to me into taking transcendental meditation instructions in the Philippines in the mid 1970s. That helped a great deal, as does my continued meditation, but impatience still gets the better of me too often.

Gotta go close the windows. Smoke smells are curling in and congestion is rising in my nose and sinuses. Purpleair has the reading at 129 up the street.

Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue in 2024. Coffee is being sucked down. Here is the music video. Cheers

Monday’s Wandering Thoughts

Each morning, I post to WordPress. The first time each day, WP usually suggests tags to add. I click to add them. And every day it tells me, ‘No tags added’.

It amuses and dissatisfies me.

Amuses me because it’s so consistent. Dissatisfies me for the same reason. See, it’s offering something, and then it’s failing. Every day, without fail.

For me, it’s part of a much longer list of small tech failures encountered on a daily basis. Little things. Buttons and widgets not working. Apps crashing.

We see it on a larger scale. One is quiet, like how fucked up deliveries with the post office have become. I tracked a package last week from Newark, California, to Roseburg, Oregon, to Portland, Oregon, to Roseburg, Oregon, to Medord, before it reached me in Ashland. Ashland, BTW, is closer to Newark than Roseburg, Portland, or Medford.

This week, I tracked a package to Fife, Washington. Where the package entered another dimension and the system has no idea where it is.

We all figure it’s a one-off, so we don’t complain about it. Then, when we do, we often discover the problem is affecting more of us than we realized. It’s a larger problem than realized.

But sometimes, the tech failure is so visible, we can’t look away. Take the Boeing aircraft failures. Or the Boeing Starliner failure that has stranded two astronauts at the space station.

The United States is steadily spiraling downward in many ways. We can’t deal with our gun violence; the GOP stops actions. We can’t deal with climate change and wildfires and the extreme weather it causes: the GOP stops it. We can’t deal with quality failures…well, that’s more about money.

People can’t afford houses. Meanwhile, college students are drowning in debt. Do you think that’s not related?

As always, as these things happen, the GOP is pointing at other things as problems that aren’t problems. Books in schools. DEI. Declining church attendance. Voter fraud.

Yes, there’s a pattern here. We as a nation are stagnating. As a small group gets wealthier and achieve a better life, the rest of us are left dealing with small problems. Problem with small problems is that they add up.

Just ask Boeing.

Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: angrified

8 AM. My wife has left for her exercise class, Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) is talking to me about breakfast, sunshine is streaming in through the windows, and I need to pee. Time to rise and stalk coffee, I decide.

I step onto the back patio with the cats. Papi is chatting up a storm. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) is more reserved. Sunshine baths us but smoke lingers in the air. Not as bad as yesterday. The air worsened yesterday as the sun arced over the sky. The air quality plummeted, skating through 190. Forests and mountains disappeared behind the smoky curtain. Fortunately, the curtain rose lost night for a while and we had a night of relatively fresh air. Looks like it’s getting pulled down again.

This is Monday, September 9, 2024.

It’s just under 60 F right now. We expect a high of about 92 F.

BTW, the MAGA answer to wildfires and its smoke pollution is to cut down all the forests. Short-sighted as hell, but that’s them: intellectually bankrupt.

I have “Good Thing” from Fine Young Cannibals ringing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark hazy). It’s because I was singing to that 1989 melody with a word substitution. “Good air, where have you gone,” was my lament.

I shifted from good air to good things as the song played. Good things like the efficient post office and delivery systems we knew for a while. Good things like safe schools.

Which triggered reflections on Vance’s comments about school shootings being a way of life because schools are soft targets, which are attractive to a ‘psycho’, as he delicately phrased it.

“And again, as a parent, do I want my school to have additional security? No, of course I don’t,” he concluded. “I don’t want my kids to go to school in a place where they feel like they’ve got to have additional security. But that is increasingly the reality that we live in.”

Vance’s memory is not impressive. People have been killed in churches. Most people passing a church will note the lack of security. And a Pittsburgh syngagogue was found to be a soft target. Malls and shopping centers are soft targets. Grocery stores. Paint stores, hardware stores.

Remember the shooting from a hotel room in Las Vegas? So a concert is a soft target.

What about the college campuses? They’ve been shown to be soft targets.

Police officers being ambushed are not soft targets, yet we read about that numerous times a year.

I remember that several work places, post offices, and a McDonald’s restaurant have been a soft target through the years.

Beyond them, we had vigilante types like Kyle Rittenhouser out looking for targets, or Trayvon Martin’s killer, who thought the kid going for skittles was a threat.

And let’s not overlooked the people shooting others knocking on their door because they’re afraid, a fear the GOP actively stokes to harvest votes. Or the man who shot a woman because he thought she was part of a scam.

As long as you dance around the obvious and pretend it’s something else, nothing will get done and the problem won’t be fixed. And the problem is America’s worsening gun culture.

Congress sort of addressed it for themselves: they’re made themselves a hard target, surrounded by security forces, a place where guns are not permitted.

Funny how that works.

Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue in 2024. Coffee has broached my system. Here’s the music video. Cheers



Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Patientoptimism

Sunday morning brings us a dirty gray blue sky with a dirty white veneer. Air quality is in high double digits, so not too precarious as far as the readings go. Just looks off.

This is September 8, 2024. Currently 69 degrees F with smoke but it’ll climb to 92 F with smoke. Meteorological rumors has Wednesday’s high capped in the mid to upper sixties, with a 92% chance of a quarter inch of rain. We’re pretty jazzed about that in this Ashlandia household.

Peter Sage, a retired person who is now a political blogger has a post today, Easy Sunday: A word from a Trump supporter.

The beginning of Peter’s column gives the guest’s background.

Lynn Myrick is a Trump supporter. He is a retired Southern Oregon family law attorney. He practiced for 47 years and still serves as an expert witness on attorney ethics and billing practices.

Myrick is a regular reader of this blog. My critique of Trump’s criminality, his business frauds, his sexual crimes, and his seditious effort to overthrow the election did not dampen Myrick’s support of Trump.

Peter goes on, Critics may think he sounds drunk, stupid, willfully uninformed, profoundly biased, or worse. They may think Myrick is mired in the alternative reality of a religious cult led by a con-man guru. But Myrick is not stupid. This is what he thinks. Something along the lines of this interior monologue takes place in the minds of a near-majority of our fellow citizens. Read it as literature. Read it for insight on how it is possible Americans might choose to elect Trump.

I was hugely disappointed in Myrick’s post. Less of a word salad than Trump himself would present, it’s a right-wing talking points gush, without any context, historic perspective, or critical thinking. For me, it seems like he gets all his news from right-wing sources and challenges none of it. That’s a common perception, right or wrong, that I have about most Trump supporters; they’ve inculcated a narrow perception of the world and hunts facts to bolster that perception. Those facts are often wrong because the purveyors providing the false information are catering to the right wing’s need for false facts. The right wing is going through life with blinders on these days.

Worse, Myrick is like, ‘look how terrible Biden/Harris is’ without any contemplation of the alternative, Trump and Vance. Trump has rightfully earned himself a label of weird. Hugging the flag, claiming he wants votes and doesn’t want them, lying about everything and anything without any limitation. Add to that, he’s under several indictments and has been convicted. He is a felon. He tried overthrowing the election in 2020. That’s apparently okay with Myrick. He offers no comments at all on Trump. Just staunch, no Dem! Dem bad!

But then, that’s what the right wing chamber declares, along with ‘Trump good’, without offering evidence.

Myrich probably thinks he wrote a sharp, damning piece. And the right-wing probably agrees with him.

I guess from thinking about the GOP, which can be called ‘the other side’, caused The Neurons to summon “The Other Side” by Aerosmith to the morning mental music stream (Trademark dark). I remember this song coming out. I was already familiar with it, as it was released in 1990 as a single but it was from the album, Pump, which I’d already purchased. Holland–Dozier–Holland, the Hall of Fame songwriting team, threatened Aerosmith with a lawsuit because “The Other Side” had some resemblance in parts to “Standing In the Shadows of Love”.

Alright, on to other things. Smoke is getting worse out there. Over 100 now on the air quality index. You stay positive and be strong, and vote blue in 2024. Coffee has been swallowed a few times. Here’s the music. Cheers

A Word

My wife and I contributed to the Harris – Walz campaign three times. We’ve also purchased shirts, signs, and bumper stickers.

Yesterday, I received nine more email requests from them for donations. That’s typical for me, and my wife said she’s receiving the same. This bombardment is getting annoying. In one email yesterday, they thanked me for the donation, while in the next, they asked why I haven’t donated.

Just a friendly word, Harris-Walz, but you might want to tone it down a little. I support you but your bombardment is wearying me, and there’s still a few more months remaining before the election.

Vote blue in 2024.

Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

Tl/DR: It’s all about me. I’m a pretty self-centered peckerhead.

I’m still on Facebook. Yes, I know. It’s mostly to track friends who are now far away and keep up with family events. Those are both fading.

Got a friend request from a friend today. I’d met her on Red Room, where I used to post, and we continued our friendship on Green Room before I moved to WordPress.

Problem with the friend request was, we were already FB friends and she, a retired teacher, writer, and grandmother, died several years ago. I deleted the request.

Damn hacks.

WaPo headline: Swift charges against Georgia father mark a cultural shift on school shootings. Yes, but that’s not the cultural shift needed. I am pleased the father is being charged. I hope he is found accountable for his part in this tragedy. Unfortunately, the many politicians responsible for it will not be held accountable.

My wife and I had a conversation as we were running around doing errands on Thursday. I referenced the conversation. She looked blank. She remembered having it but not what it was about. I was also struggling to remember the details. A minute later, the details flooded back into my memory. I shared them with her and we went on. I would say that it was disturbing but this sort of thing has been going on for years. Memory is a tricky thing.

I have a foot issue. I’ve written about this before. My right ankle was sprained in May and again in June, rolling over each time. I eventually had an MRI and discovered a tendon was ruptured. I’ve been wearing various wraps and braces but they were dissatisfying. Something was needed, as the ankle felt unstable. I became incredibly mindful how it was placed and employed.

My wife talked me into getting a Bioskin TriLock brace. Been using it for three days. It’s providing needed stability and is reasonably comfortable. Putting it on properly does need practice and thought.

I’d noticed I was compensating for the injured foot. Other places were beginning to feel stressed and mis-aligned. These were just what was being noticed; imagine what was being damaged and stressed under the radar.

Seeing an ortho surgeon in a few weeks. We’ll see where it goes from there.

Happy Saturday.

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