In the military again. Young. Off again on some special assignment.
First, I was trying to get there. Mom – the young woman of memory – gave a huge smile and a wave and told me, good luck, I’ll see you later. I was surprised and pleased that she was there to see me off.
A group of us were traveling together. We were each taking our own gear with us. Some of them had lost their gear.
I realized, they put it down in a marshy, muddy area, and their stuff sank. As they moaned and groaned, I told them, I know exactly where it sank, and showed them where to dig. They did and quickly recovered it.
We arrived where we were supposed to be. Outdoors, it was a strange setup: a large semi-circle of people seated at tables. Men and women. Seemed to be civilians, and older. It had been heavily raining and brooding clouds kept it dark.
Parallel and behind the semi-circle of people were our lockers where we were to stow our gear. We were being called out in units. I’d been fully prepared but now – damn it, I couldn’t find some of my gear. I also discovered, and then recalled, oh, yes, “I need to order a new phone.”
A little panicked, I was scrambling to get the right gear. Like, how the hell did that happen?
I noticed many others were in the same mode, alleviating some of my worries. I then managed to find the needed gear except –
Underwear. Where the hell was my underwear?
I knew I packed it but I couldn’t find it, and everything was getting muddy.
I don’t usually keep my phone near me when I’m in bed. Had a lifetime in the military, along with my time in marketing. People always wanted me immediately available.
Well, no longer! It’s one of the declarations of independence I made when I retired from all that work stuff. The phone stays in the other room.
Except, yesterday, it didn’t. I wasn’t feeling well. My car was in the shop for routine maintenance. I was waiting for them to call or text to tell me it was ready. So I had the phone on my nightstand.
They called about four-ish, asking if they could keep it overnight. No, nothing major found; they were just short-handed and overscheduled.
Shrugging it off, I agreed, sure. “Call me in the morning when it’s ready.”
I went back to sleep, off and on, and forgot about the phone.
Until six AM this morning.
The phone pinged with a message. In irritation, I thought, sisters. That was more a matter of my mood than anything. My sisters have habits of getting up early and sending texts early. They’re on the east coast of the US, so they’re three hours ahead of me. Texts that they’re sending at 8 AM are pinging on my phone at 5 AM.
But it wasn’t my sisters.
Nor was it the car repair shop.
No, it was Google Health, formerly known as Fitbit.
Google Health pinged me awake at 6 AM to tell me that I didn’t have a good night of sleep.
We were in the home office, each quietly doing computer things. Sitting back, I turned my chair to face her. “You know how that garage door light bulb went out?”
The background: there’s a light that goes on when you press the button to raise or lower the garage door. It was no longer going on.
She nodded, waiting for me to drop the other shoe.
“Well, when you were out the other day, I replaced the bulb. That didn’t fix it, though.”
“Oh,” my wife said.
“Anyway.” I gestured at the computer. “I figure, must be something else. So I’m researching online. One of the things I came across was that I should use a light bulb specifically made for garage door lifts.”
My wife frowned. “What?”
I laughed. “Exactly. We’ve lived here twenty years. I think I replaced the bulb one before. I replaced our Half Moon Bay garage door light one time. I’ve never bought a special bulb for it.”
“Why would the garage door need a special bulb?” my wife asked.
“It’s supposed to be ‘more rugged’.”
She and I both laughed. “I think that’s crap,” she said.
Heading to school. Adult – roughly my current age. Driving through a dark, rainy day. It is pouring rain.
It begins with me in a car, driving. Traffic is heavy. I’m trying to get into the left-hand turn lane. A dark blue Miata is ahead, trying to get into my lane. Behind the Miata, a motorcycle is trying to also change lanes to my lane.
Patient and courteous, we work it out and go on. I turn left, then left again onto the school grounds.
Then I’m in a crowded small classroom. English lit is being taught. Other students present are famous and accomplished: movie, television, and rock stars, along with NFL players and coaches, and NASA scientists. I think, what am I doing here?
A man introduces himself as a NASA scientist. I once facilitated some NASA scientists in a team-building exercise. I struggle to remember their names. I can only tell him when and where it happened. He smiles, indulgent, but he’s not impressed.
An NFL player sitting not far from me recalls a ‘jet sweep’ play. He was blocking for the runner, and vividly remembers details. “Was the QB the runner?” I asked.
An NFL coach joins the conversation. Using a marker, he draws up the play on a sheet of paper, describing it in detail. I’m astounded.
We break to different classes. As I walk away, I notice that my computer bag, which is black leather, feels awfully light and floppy. Damn; I left my laptop at home. I think, if I have my phone, I can still log in and do things – but no. I’ve forgotten my phone, too.
Grimacing, I think, how can I recover? Not seeing a way, I sit, hoping to be inconspicuous, realizing, if called upon, I’ll just need to explain that I screwed up and forgot my phone and laptop. I’m so mortified.
Another person sits beside me. I recognize him as someone famous. He asks, “Hey, are you alright? It looks like something is bothering you.”
I explain that I forgot my laptop and that it upset me.
The teacher, a small elderly woman, comes in and sits at a desk at the crowded class’s front. She begins talking.
So, I’m changing information in online accounts. The procedures were all originally all set up for us do online — technological DIY, if you will — back in the Internet’s infancy. Since then, the net has been terrorized by security threats and thefts.
Anway, the saga begins…
I log into my account. Navigate to my profile. Go to the phone numbers. Try to change the number.
Can’t!
Because I have already added that number.
I attempt to delete that number.
Can’t!
In order to do that, they want to text me a security code on the number I’m attempting to delete because the number is no longer valid.
Yet, that’s listed as the primary contact. I can’t move the other name up. It has a strange, inexplicable logic to it.
No other options are available online. My only choice is to call them and explain it all.
Ashland, southern Oregon — Saturday, July 25, 2026.
July is romping to an end, but summer is cranking it up. Cooler today. 89 F is our high
It’s fire weather season, not just here in the US, but around the world. Calm here today but wildfires are burning in Spain and France. Hundreds of thousands of people are threatened and evacuated. Yet climate denial continues.
A paper last year in Nature concluded that the odds of encountering extreme, climate-driven fire years have risen by 88% to 152% globally compared to the pre-industrial era. Further, studies aided by supercomputers have concluded that many of the extreme weather, including these enormous wildfires, would not have occurred without human emissions.
Trump and his administration have responded by rolling back protections. Yet, Trump thinks he’s improving the world, because he and the billionaires are getting wealthier.
Your Trump Quote of the Day:
Gas was averaging $3.10 a gallon at that time, although some regions were much higher, almost to $4 a gallon. Now gas average $4.11 a gallon, and threatens $5 a gallon in some regions.
Trump is cunning. Trump is not very bright, though. Trump made a big deal about the United States drilling oil. Doesn’t make us energy independent, does it?
No. One, it always depends on the kind of oil and coal taken from the ground. Not all of it is equal.
Two, this is a global situation. Because the US lacks the refining infrastructure and raw material to create the gas and diesel we need, we’ll continue to be dependent on others.
Three, building new infrastructure is hampered by rising costs, which are pushed up by Trump’s tariffs — because the US steel industry doesn’t make the steel needed. Additionally, climate change and extreme heat is driving the need for technical change. But the costs and climate change are also driving up insurance costs.
Additionally, the rising gas and oil prices make construction more expensive. So does the greater demand for energy being generated by AI and Data Center construction. Yet, Trump cut other, more sustainable energy technology, such as solar and wind.
Then Trump started a war — after promising not to, of course. The war drives up oil and gas consumption and demand while increasing oil and refining costs but also decreases supplies.
Yet, Trump continues ignoring climate change and disasters. What a genius — NOT.
It says a lot more about Trump’s supporters and Republicans that he can lie, break promises, promote his backward foolish logic, and still get away with it.
Trump’s failures are MAGA’s failures.
Trump’s failures are the GOP’s failures.
Today’s song in the morning mental music stream is “Ramblin’ on My Mind”. It’s an Eric Clapton cover of a Robert Johnson song. Saddens me some; Clapton used to be a performer I enjoyed and admired. But he and Van Morrisson made a lot of comments during the COVID-19 pandemic that depressed me.
This song came about because I read that Trump made a long, boring, rambling speech at the White House Correspondents Association Dinner last night. Many said that Trump bombed. Anyway, thinking about him and rambling and his flailing mind inspired The Neurons in my own wobbly mind.
My wife looked at me with hope. “Did you find my phone?”
“What?” I asked.
She explained. She’d called and left messages. She’d lost her phone.
My phone never rang.
After cursing that, I examined my settings. The phone should have rung. It’s possible it rang and I didn’t hear it.
Anyway…
My wife lost her phone. She thought it happened at the coffee shop. I called them to ask if they had found it. They looked all over as I called the number.
“No, sorry,” Katie told me.
We drove over to the coffee shop to look for ourselves. No sign of the phone.
Then I got a phone call from her phone. Children were making a prank call.
I tried talking to them. I offered a reward. I texted them with an offer to buy the phone back.
No response.
After two days of trying, my wife accepted, the phone was gone. She needed to cancel the service for that number.
She called the support center.
A bot answered. It explained it was a bot and asked her what her problem was.
My wife explained the situation.
“Hold on,” the bot said. A few minutes later, it came back on the line. “Can you explain your problem again please?”
My wife did.
“Please hold,” the bot said. “I’ll be right back.”
The back came back and suggested, “Turn your phone off and on.”
“No,” my wife replied. She explained again: she did not have her phone. Her phone was lost. She needed to cancel the service.
“Hold on,” the bot replied. It went away. My wife listened to hold music. The bot came back: “Turn your phone off and on.”
“That won’t work,” my wife answered. “Let me speak to a human.”
The human had her sorted in thirty seconds. If she had spoken to the human in the first place, the call would have been under a minute.
Instead, she was forced to endure having a bot tell her, “Turn your phone off and on.”
It’s a hot, sunny day. 85 F now, 95 later. But the air is free from smoke.
Fasted last night so I could go get some blood tests done today. So then went off and ate breakfast after that was completed.
Then the morning got a little complicated. My wife lost her cell phone. Children found it and wouldn’t return it. Yes, rewards were offered. She didn’t have the phone locator turned on, a choice she made years ago but now regrets. She also didn’t set up phone security. Fortunately, she used it for nothing except texting, games, and phone calls.
BUT —
It was the primary number for receiving security texts for different accounts. So I’ve been going through the very painful process of changing that number with several companies. It isn’t just ‘log in and fix it’; it’s log in — or, call us. Give us your name, DOB, address, social, UserID. Now, take a photo of both sides of your driver’s license. And a selfie. Now hop on your right leg three times, turn in one complete circle, spit toward the sun, and declare, “New phone number” three times.
Classic first world blues.
It’s pretty apparent these days that Trump’s shallow thinking has exhausted its ability to come up with new ideas. Deeply into repeating himself, Trump is inflicting new tariffs on us (even though the US is projected to refund $85B in tariffs and our customs duties receipts are negative $26B in June) and trying to add his name to another building as part of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!
We’re becoming the land of the poor, sick, and broken under Trump. According to a Harris Poll, 95% of U.S. adults believe the country is facing a severe affordability crisis.
The other way that we can take this quote is that Trump made another Freudian slip. He’s actually acknowledging that he’s doing a shit job, and that anyone after him will look much better in comparison.
Given his declining physical appearance and the way he often babbles, I wonder if he’ll be alive to see the next Oval Office inhabitant.
Maybe Trump will pull a Mitch McConnell. That might be even why the GOP isn’t trying very hard to prove Mitch is still alive; they’re testing the waters to do the same with Trump.
Today’s song came to me as I was driving and thinking, returning home from my lab visit. I had the radio off, thinking about my dreams from last night. With my daily routine shifted, I thought, “Come up for air.” From that, “Miracle Mile” by Cold War Kids began playing in my morning mental music stream.
May the season’s winds carry you to a happy, healthy, and safe future.
Went through my annual physical on Tuesday, and all seems well. Blood work will be done next week to reveal what’s going on under the skin.
I went through the TURBT procedure for bladder cancer in late June. Next steps are the BCG wash. My urologist first said it would start in July, maybe August.
I mentioned this to my PCP on Tuesday. She was surprised. “Oh, they’re doing them? There was a nationwide shortage.”
Oh.
Forward to today. The BCG wash won’t start until the end of October.
The reason: a nationwide shortage of BCG. The United States has one source, a Merck facility. They’re trying to increase production but that won’t be successful — if it happens — until the end of 2026.
This is only a US issue:
The BCG shortage in the United States has been primarily due to a reliance on a single manufacturer, Merck, which produces the TICE strain of BCG. This dependency became critical after Sanofi Pasteur ceased production of the Connaught strain in 2012, leaving Merck as the sole supplier for the U.S. and many other countries . In contrast, other countries have access to multiple BCG strains produced by various manufacturers . In the U.S., the stringent FDA approval process has limited the availability of foreign-produced BCG strains, contributing to the prolonged shortage.
I’m simultaneously happy that the BCG wash is available and I have the means to have the procedure and frustrated by this continuing trend in the US. We become dependent on one source, and live and die by it.
It’s not just BCG; an article I read the other day recounted the US shortage of 155mm howitzer shells:
Businesses love to consolidate, buying up competitors, merging to ‘improve production’. Rarely works. Instead, we find ourselves more and more with just one location, putting all our trust and faith in them.
We often won’t modernize infrastructure until it reaches the brink of failure.
We’re expecting another warm one, low 90s, with dry air. It’s 73 now. Not getting very cool at night, and doesn’t stay cool long. But these are not bad conditions. Fingers crossed that thunderstorms don’t move in and start fires.
We received bad news yesterday. Feeling ill, my brother-in-law drove himself to the hospital. Bottom line, they admitted it because his enzymes were high and he seemed to be about to have a heart attack. He’s going through a catherization as we speak. I don’t know what was blocked or any percentages involved. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up with a stent or two. He’s a great guy, a few years younger than me, and deeply loves my sister. Hoping for the best for him.
Stories are circulating that Mitch McConnell is brain dead. His office is saying otherwise. His wife, Elaine Cho (edit – not Margaret, lol), went to China, which is totally and completely rational. Many people who rush out of the country when their partner is seriously ill.
Circumstantial evidence that McConnell isn’t doing well is rising. Social media accounts being deactivated. No one going in and out of their home. His office and staff aren’t returning calls.
The US is out of the World Cup. As I’m not a fan, I shrugged. Belgium eliminated the US and then mocked Trump in their victory by using his dance. Feels a bit like karma.
As part of the celebration of our freedom, democracy, and independence, a bunch of masked white supremacists marched around D.C. Nothing like old-fashioned racism and hatred to celebrate!
Realizing instantly that it’s bad optics, folks like Laura Ingraham immediately tried to pretend it was ‘Antifa’ faking everyone out. But at least one of the took their mask away and revealed the truth.
Sitting around a short time ago, I was on Bing and typed in, “How are food prices”. Bing responded with a list of facts about what’s going on with food prices in India.
I was like, India? Okay, I feel for them but why am I getting food prices for India? Wasn’t planning to shop there anytime soon. I asked Bing, “Why am I getting food prices for India?”
It responded with a laborious explanation about India exporting rice, and how that can affect prices. I replied, “But it didn’t tell me how prices are in the US.” It then told me how I can check prices in my area.
That just triggered my WTF meter to new levels. Being older than a teenager and a regular shopper, I already have a pretty good damn idea about how to find the prices in my area. I’m not impressed with Bing’s AI and search engine.
Today’s music is “Money for Nothing” by Dire Straits. The Neurons put it into the morning mental music stream as I was thinking about Trump. He’s made two billion dollars in his first year of his second term, basically by being there. And the nation picks up his golfing fees. So it’s all money for nothing and his golf for free for him.
In true Trump fashion, he made out but others riding his wave went under. His other businesses, Trump Phone and Trump shoes, are doing as well as Trump Steaks (2007), Trump University (2005-2010), and Trump Air (1989-1992). Even hawked by Lee Greenwood, Trump Bibles aren’t selling great, probably because of their impressive markup.
Trump Presidency (2025 to now) is making Trump much more money. That’s why he’s trying to game the mid-terms. Trump has never had a business that has done this well, making money for nothing.
As the song says, “That’s the way you do it. Let me tell you, them guys ain’t dumb. Maybe get a blister on your little finger. Maybe getting a blister on your thumb.”
Trump has perfected the art of getting money for nothing.
I hope you stay safe and healthy, wherever you are. Have the best day possible.
Michael Seidel, writer 