Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: Coffeenical

Slept in, and the overfloofs allowed it. Rising ticks after 8:30, I found a comfy autumn day hunkering in. Blue sky like we’ve seen thousands of time, but is still wondrous. A full sun was encroaching, driving up the mid 50s temperature. We’re due to make a final stop in the mid 80s before the sun finishes business.

This is Saturday, September 28, 2024.

Today’s theme music overtook me from a song’s line. Yeah, unusual, right? Yes, that was snark.

I was reading Things the MAGAs Claim. A wearying trope. Turning off from that, I mentally countered, “Well, you got your reasons and lies.” As the standard morning activities continued on semi-auto-pilot, The Neurons introduced a vocalist singing “Well, you got your reasons, and you got your lies” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark streaming). Wasn’t until coffee blessed my throat that I was like, oh, hey, that’s that Tonic song. What’s that Tonic song? More coffee and I remembered, “If You Could Only See” from 1997.

I figured, oh, I had to have used that before. So, I sat and searched. Yep, December of 2020, I posted this:

I ended up with a political spin on a love song today. The song, from 1997, is “If You Could Only See” by Tonic. It came to me as I read some interview with another Republican insisting that the election is a fraud and everything must be tossed out. They don’t want a do-over, mind you: they just want Trump declared the winner. Never mind any facts that say anything about the election’s validity. Some nefarious, shadowy and powerful individual allowed Trump to be elected four years ago, let him run the country, but now said, “Oh, but enough. We will rig the election so he loses.”

Such bizarre reasoning always prompts wonder in me. Why do they so love Trump? Why do they put so much faith in unproven conspiracies? Why do they believe statements shown to be lies and fabrication?

Yeah, we have theories about it all. It brought some lines from Tonic’s song into my mental stream this AM.

Well you got your reasons.
And you got your lies.
And you got your manipulations.

That sums it up for me. Strange reasoning, reinforced by lies and manipulation. Truly, this song from 1997 is proper for this era in 2020.

Funny that the song fit my mood as Trump lost the 2020 election and declare it had been stolen from him, and now, as he runs for office again, with the GOP doing their best to steal it for him by hampering voting.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote blue. Here we, Saturday is underway. Cheers

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Frigruff

Some artists got together and painted us the bluest sky. Brill sunshine was dabbed in o’er the goldenish green trees towering across the backyard. Cats and I were well-thrilled with this autumn display, frolicking in a mature way in the 50 something F air. We’ll plumb the mid 80s F today but autumn is bigfooting its presence on Ashlandia.

This is Friday, September 27, 2024.

I’ve circled at the usual AM stops and found some part of me meditating on What Constitutes A Healthy Breakfast? Trader Joe’s sheet cake was inviting me for a taste but that’s not healthy, is it? Well, it could be. Pumpkin and spices. Probably all artificial. But tasty.

Laboring through the morning news. Hurricane Helene did the wreckage as expected. Still rampaging. NY’s mayor indicted. The noble and dignified Trump hawking watches. They say they found the world’s oldest cheese, too. I thought that was in my fridge. I checked; still there. So that’s another example of fake news, innit?

Maggie Smith passed. 89, which is now considered a youngerish sort of age. Suppose because I’m closer to that yardstick. Beloved is an often overused word, up there with superstar. Beloved seems apt for Maggie Smith.

Alice in Chains is dominating the morning mental music stream (Trademark trademarked) with “Would” from 1992. I check and learn, yes, I used “Would” before as theme music, in September in another year. I have detected a trend of having the same songs come to me in the same months of different years. Serendipity? Random psychosis? Bullshit observation? I don’t know. It’d take more study and I haven’t had enough coffee to pursue it past my fingers bashing a keyboards.

I sneeze several times. My wife isn’t here so I need to tell myself, “Godzilla”.

Which inspires Blue Oyster Cult and their ode to the creature terrorizing Tokyo. It’s been pinned as theme music here too and doesn’t feel synchronized to my day, although nothing else does, either.

Then, clicking and muttering, I’m lead to Stevie Nicks’s new offering, “The Lighthouse”. Nicks said that she’d been on the road, listening to a newscaster talking about Roe v. Wade being overturned. Thinking of what it would mean, she had to write a song.

Nicks sings,

Because everything I fought for
Long ago in a dream, is gone
Someone said
The dream is not over
The dream has just begun
Or
Is it a nightmare
Is it a lasting scar
It is unless you save it
And that’s that
Unless you stand up
And take it back
And take it back

h/t to Genius.com

Yes, this feels like a song for today. Hope you give it an ear.

Be strong and so on as we wade through the days, 39 of them, until November 5, 2024. Coffee still tickles my throat in measured swallows. Here’s the music. Cheers

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: Footsensitive

The blogging day has a late liftoff. It’s a matter of scheduling.

Today is Thursday, September 26, 2024. Another autumn day, hotter than yesterday but it’s not supposed to scorch us. 70 F now, we expect 82 to show up on the temperature measuring devices before the fat boy sings. The sky is autumn blue, complimentary to the trees’ autumn wear.

I left the house at 7:30 this morning. Destination, Medford. Orthopedic surgeon office. My faithful companion rode shotgun. She and I figured that we’d do other things in Medford after clocking out of the doctor’s office.

I was there for my right ankle. After spraining out on it twice, May and June, MRIs showed a high-grade tear of my longus tendon. Fresh x-rays confirmed the status, along with his examination of my foot and stance. The surgeon’s recommendation: cut the longus tendon end out.

A surprise to me but his reasoning was sound. Longus doesn’t do much and is kind of redundant to the brevis. My brevis, and the rest of my tendons, along with my ligaments, muscles, and bones, look good. My instablity is being triggered as a response to pain in the longus. Basically, I feel pain from its remnants, and react, causing a wobble. So cut it out and the pain is gone. We discussed also tring to replace it with something else, since it’s been ripped away. He recommended the removal and after thinking and discussing, I lean toward having that done. Recovery will mean off the foot for a few weeks, a walking cast, and no driving. Six weeks on and it should be good, and therapy will be pursued for the leg, foot, ankle.

He was complimentary about my state of health, over 68, with only high blood pressure, a condition which has plagued me since my yute.

BTW, doctor and staff impressed me. All were professional, courteous, friendly. No one was condescending. Everything went on time and was methodical and straightforward.

Next steps, check with my PCP for any health showstoppers, and run it past insurance for their approvals. Of course.

Today’s theme music was floof inspired. After my doc appointment, we went to a breakfast trough, did a little shopping and zipped home. Once in the domicile, I did a cursory flyover to find Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) and Papi the ginger blade. I figured they were in the backyard, by the back door. That inspired The Neurons to sing “They are back door kitties” to the tune of Foreigner’s “Juke Box” hero from 1982. Within a second of that inspiration, JBH was rocking the morning mental music stream (Trademark rocked).

Had an interesting encounter after parking at Trader Joe’s in Medford. A guy parked his vehicle behind ours and said, “Hey, nice bumper sticker.” That would be my “Vets for Kamala Harris” bumper sticker. He told us he’s out west in Grants Pass often, and it’s wall to wall Trump flags and signs. “Makes me want to gag,” he revealed.

BTW. the ACLU is suing the City of Medford Police Department for allegedly spying on progressive organizations/individuals. “The suit alleges that the southern Oregon police department monitored social media accounts and combed news stories to build files against individuals and groups when they weren’t suspected of any criminal activity.” h/t to OregonLive.com

Stay positive, lean forward and remain strong. Vote blue for the difference it will make. On to write and coffee and all those other elements of my daily existence. Oh, and here’s the music. Just remember to sing “Back door kitty” whenever they sing “Juke box hero.” Cheers

Wednesday’s Political Thoughts

I read a Jamie Bouie opinion piece yesterday: “The Black Box of the Undecided Voter Won’t Yield Its Secrets”

His comments and that of experts about undecided voters were sensible to me in an abstract, collegiate manner. They’d hold true in most elections, meaning if we didn’t have Trump as a candidate, and the hollowed out, morally bankrupt GOP that now graces our nation.

I mean, when John McCain ran, I could accept him as POTUS. He’d established principles and held to them. I disagreed with most of his policy positions, but I could see him working with his party and the Democratic Party and moving forward, addressing issues and solving problems for the nation’s good, along with that of the world. I didn’t have a feeling that John McCain would try to drag us back into an era that celebrated discrimination, racism, and sexism. Nor did I think he would ally with dictators against our allies.

That’s what Trump stands for, IMO. He will crap on his base for a dollar, and crap on the Constitution for a penny. His give-a-fuck levels about treaties, democracy, and equality has dropped below acceptable standards. They’d be problematic in a citizen, but in a party leader, they’re horrendous because of the amplification.

See, the ideas behind Jamie Bouie’s piece, like much of the NY Times and many mainstream media, pushes the fallacy that Harris and Trump are equal on paper, a premise that ignores Trump’s foaming at the mouth hatred, and his urgent willingness to lie about immigrants eating pets to gain votes. It ignores his ‘faux pas’ like the claims about the Revolutionary War and airports. Oh, that was a teleprompter problem. Sure. Who in their right mind with a high school education would accidently make a claim about airports during the Revolutionary War?

If that was one gaffe, it could be written off. But there’s the sharks and electrocution riff. The repeated forgetfulness about where’s he’s at and what he’s doing. The lies about what he accomplished. The constant fucking word salad presented as though it’s coherent and meaningful discourse.

Let’s add hard facts. Trump has been convicted in court. He’s declared bankruptcy multiple times. He’s been documented as having lied over 30,000 times. We’re still counting. Even when he’s corrected about lies, he promotes the same those lies again and again. He cannot stop lying, and his base lap them up.

The media paints the GOP with pretty pastels. The book banning is set aside. Censorship, as foisted by GOP-led state governments, is overlooked. The fact that most Americans are pro-choice is punted away as though it little matters.

Climate change? The GOP calls it a hoax and turns away as more fires burn, record heatwaves are set, and the weather turns nastier and more extreme. They dance with insane conspiracy theories about the deep state and want to curtail others’ rights because they’re childless.

The GOP is still carrying on about the last election. Their claims were dispelled in courts. They have no evidence. And yet, it works. It works on those undecided who aren’t taking any time to pay fucking attention to what is happening outside of their career, their sports, their entertainment, their family.

C’mon, man.

The GOP duplicity, with Vance calling for less rhetoric while ignoring the steady spew of violence and hate that comes out of Trump, Bannion, Loomer, and other Republicans, keeps growing. Christ, they’re marching around Trump rallies with NAZI signs and flags, and Confederate signs and flags, and the press is going, well, that’s pretty normal. GOP representatives have called for an end to the separation of church and state, and the press goes, well, that’s one side of the issue.

Like hell it is. That’s not one side of the issue. That’s one of our fucking founding principles.

So, no. I’m going to cut the undecided voter a break because they might not have the time to be as deeply involved in thinking and reading about this election. They need to seriously pay attention. If this edition of the GOP wins in 2024, it will attempt to radically redefine the United States along theocratic, authoritarian lines that favor the wealthy, powerful, and whites.

Just read their playbook. It’s called Project 2025.

As for those who call themselves undecided because they think that Harris hasn’t outlined her policy positions, here’s a link to her issues page. Take time to read them and give them some critical thought and compare them to what Trump and the GOP is offering.

Vote. Blue.

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: pithynated

It’s a splashing autumn day. Lofty clouds of the decorative sort keeps the sky a lighter shade of morning. Sunshine stumbles in around the clouds to take us up from the high 50s to the high 70s. Yellows and reds are mixing it up with the trees’ greenery. No oranges in residence among the foliage yet.

Welcome to Wednesday, September 25, 2024. Please stand while we sing Ashlandia’s anthem, which sounds a lot like a repurposed rendition of “O Canada.”

I’m in a news trench, reading about our world and the many ways it thrills and disappoints. Find your own examples, I’m not regurgitating them here.

Autumn and the floofs are getting along like oceans and pirates. It’s a mellow grooming, gazing, ear-twitching still life of them in the back as a cloud interrupts their sunbath. Mild annoyance ruffle their whiskers as wind curses the yard. Papi the ginger blade looks especially affronted by this incursion. A place must be found to rest without wind’s prying fingers. He begins stretches and a hunt but bird noises and leafy sounds must be given attention.

Thinking on how autumn seems to have come around, and The Neurons place a song in the morning mental music stream (Trademark imploding). Green Day came out with “When I Come Around” in 1995. I was still a military member then, unspecting that I was on the cusp of retirement. I was over twenty by then, so I’d done my time. I liked my life there but the Air Force noticed I’d been at Onizuka Air Base in Sunnyvale, California, for four years. Time to be moved. They offered me an Inspector General role in Space Command which I nixed. They then presented Whiteman AFB in Missouri for my next tour of duty. That didn’t appeal so I did the necessary ink and walked.

Well, you know the standard closing about strength, positivity, and leaning. Vote blue, of course, like you’re sane and not out to gouge other’s civil rights to better your own existence because you’re a narrow-minded GOP twat. Yes, my black brew is talking through me. I offer the music now out of Woodstock 94, a scant three decades past.

Cheers

The Facebook Duality

I shared one of my posts to Facebook the other day. I often used to do so, inviting friends and family to ‘see what I’m up to’.

Facebook informed me that it had been blocked as spam. It was the second time in as many months that they labeled one of my posts as spam, claiming something like, I was posting it or sharing it just to get likes.

The nerve.

This happened to be a Floofinition, one of my silly pursuits. Of course I was posting it on Facebook for likes. Why does Facebook think people post on their social media accounts? Likes is one of many reasons for sharing things on Facebook, but they used to encourage me to do just that.

I protested their unilateral condemnation of my post, but my protest is limited in scope to their pre-canned reasons for doing so. And those are flawed and incomplete. It assumes a set of paradigms which frankly just displays how fucking lost thy are. And after I completed that, I thought, I never heard anything back from them about that one last month.

No, you never do. They reach out like some hidden Gods, do their thing, and then watch us like we’re ants running around after their anthill is damaged.

That pissed me off.

The clincher came the next day. It was like, “Michael, here’s a memory of something you posted before! Share it to remind others.” So sweet. So friendly.

And yeah, it was one of my floofinitions. Like the one they condemned as spam and removed for being posted to get likes.

Well, fuck you, Facebook. I’m done with you and your capricious two-faced arrogance. They are already a repository of right-wing memes and misinformation, so they were treading on my last nerve before. I know, they’re quivering back at Meta headquarters, wailing that they’ve alienated me and lost my support. “Oh, boo hoo. We lost Michael. Woe is us.”

That’s okay. It makes me feel better. Just as their community used to do. It’s like they say, the more things change, the more they go to shit.

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Moontalized

And just like that, summer struck back. A friend wrote in an email about meeting up for a beer, “Is it PC to refer to this pleasant time of year as ‘Indian Summer?’ I sure hope so.”

Yep, autumn and autmer and sumumn have all been displaced for summer, if we use the weather as a ruler. It’s September 24, 2024 on the calendar. Here in Ashlandia, that should translate to autumn, or ‘fall’ as many locals call it. But with the low only dipping into the middle sixties last night and an expected high of 95 F, this Tuesday has summer scrawled all over it. Add in a deep blue sky tinged with hazy edges, and it feels like June has fallen on us once again.

There’s all manner of news spreading across the wires today. Good stuff like new 2024 election trends and Trump’s claim that if he loses this time, he’s done. WTF news about a blizzard in South Africa. Gold hit an all-time high, Texas is suing the Biden Administration, and Hurricane John is a cat 3 striking Mexico.

Oh, and Earth is closer to getting that ‘second moon’ we’ve always hoped for, though it’ll be just a temporary addition. Call it a trial run. We’ll need to be careful in how the new moon is introduced and ensure that it gets along with the old Moon. It’s used to being the only moon, so there’s some trepidation that the new and old moon will go after each other.

I was outside in the backyard at 3 AM (yes, it was a cat thing) when I was overtaken by the stunningly clear sky and brilliant, bold moonshine. I stood out there alone for a while, sucking in the fresh air and stargazing. That probably contributed to The Neurons posting a Thin Lizzy song, “Dancing in the Moonlight (It’s Caught Me in Its Spotlight)” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark two-step). The song came out in ’77 but it doesn’t get much radio play in the U.S. these days.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote blue in 2024. I have reached the bottom of my coffee cup, so I am facing a personal sad time. Here’s the music! Cheers

Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: Bowiedacious

A front has driven in, strewning clouds of different complexities over Ashlandia, giving us variables in lights, shadows, temperatures, and expectations. Sumumn still holds but it’s beginning to look like autmer as trees flirt with new colors in their leaves. Only dropped to the high fifties last night, and today’s high temperature will spank 90 degrees F.

This is Monday, September 23, 2024. You understand that 2024’s ninth month is closing out and there are but 94 days until Kwanzaa, 93 days until Christmas, and 93 days until Hanukkah? There’s also only 43 days until the U.S.’s 2024 elections. Things are getting tight.

Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) inspired today’s musical choice, although coffee contributed. Having indulged in my first hit of black goodness, I saw Tucker came out from eating. Moving slow, his eyes were mostly closed and his tongue was busy going over his whiskes and mouth. Sitting, he commenced to watching.

That’s when The Neurons or somebody caused me to sing, “Tucker. I just fed a kitty named Tucker.” This was done to the tune of “Blue Jean” by David Bowie. Right after that, the 1984 song fired up in my morning mental music stream (Trademark dished). It’s a catchy little Bowie number, jaunty with memorable lines which don’t convey any great depths. How did he do that?

Stay positive, confident, and strong. Lean forward and vote blue in 2024. Coffee has been served in the office; here’s the music. Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sunumny

It’s Sunday, September 22, 2024. First day of autumn, aka fall, in the northern latitudes. Sumumn is still visiting Ashlandia. Chilly last night at 52 F at our place, the high will pop into the low 80s F today. A relatively windless day, sunshine baths a blue sky where lonely moon offers a pale version of its waning self high in the western sky.

Haven’t read any news this morning. Was just involved with other matters and felt no great urge to jump into war, disasters, politics, tragedy, or weather. I instead read more of my library book, Slough House, by Mick Herron. Entertaining and distracting, it’s just what I required with my Sunday morning cuppa coffee.

Although I’ve been reading about bots and AI off and on recently, a cat inspired today’s song. Messing around with Papi, the ginger blade, so named because of his slender shape, brought the song up. Papi is well established in his ways. After eating, he washes up and then comes for some skrive, which is flooflish for sritch-love. He only stays about eight minutes and then abruptly whirls and leaves. As he departed today, I told him, “Domo arigatō,” after he left the session, continuing, “I appreciate the visit. Come again.”

Click, The Neurons recalled “Mr. Roboto” by Styx and began playing it in the morning mental music stream (Trademark rusty). The song, which seems like it’s about a man who is a robot, came out in 1983. I was stationed on Okinawa, Japan in 1983. As with many Americans stationed over there in the military, domo arigatō was one of several common Japanese expressions we’d learned as part of that experience. So that song was instantly and hugely popular with a segment of the personnel. Later, I had a young friend when were stationed in Germany who loved this song. He’d played the drums and keyboards, sing the lyrics, and act as a robot during parts of it. Yes, a crazy, memorable dude.

Enjoy your day, stay strong, be positive, and vote blue in 2024. Here’s the music, and awaaayyy we go. Cheers

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sumumnsatting

With change of season almost on us and the world’s relationship to the sun shifting, the sunbeams jumped right into my bed through the room’s sliding glass door, illuminating me and my faithful buddy, Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah). Time to get up, I think I said, and he replied, Time to eat.

Sumumn still holds on, dropping cool nights on us, like 50 F last night, but taking us to pleasantly warm temperatures, like 82 F today. A finely consistent coat of gilded sunshine holds the days while nights are wrapped up in clear, starry skies. This is Saturday, September 21, 2024.

After reading some of Trump’s latest stuff, I read about Danica Patrick’s declarations about being between a Republican and an Independent. Danica Patrick is a retired race driver who is always down on Vice President Harris. She’s also Aaron Rodger’s former girlfriend. Patrick commented, “I think our country should be run by someone that knows business and has integrity.”

Well, as true experts will clarify for you, running the nation as a business is not realistic; a nation and a business have different goals, with a nation being concerned about its people welfare and security, and the multitude of issues and needs which fall into those wide buckets. A business is focused on making a profit. Those are contrary end-goals.

Patrick doesn’t mention that she’s voting for D.J. Trump. I can’t believe that she would if she’s realistically assessing Trump’s business acumen. After that, discussions about Trump’s integrity can open. Documented as being a consistent liar, he’s also demonstrated that he’s out of touch with the nation’s history and needs, flipflops on his positions based on what he believes voters want to hear (see abortion and Project 2025), and if you believe the lawsuits and commentary from New Yorkers, he regularly stiffs contractors. Trump’s business bankruptcies are also well-chronicled.

Anyway, out of that, Hall & Oates began playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark trumped) as Der Neurons called up “You’re Out of Touch” from 1977. Hall & Oates were a musical duo whose sound was stamped all over the popular music scene. Living in the barracks in the Philippines at the time, I’d hear this song being played in others’ rooms, and regularly hear it at the Airman’s Club. It’s encrusted in my psyche.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote blue in 2024. Coffee is being swallowed in fine gulps. Here’s the music. Cheers

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