Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: sunergized

This. Is. March. 16. 20. 24.

Sunshine began painting Saturday’s morning sky a bright blue. Clouds fled the scene; not for them, they decided, dragging cooler temperatures away with them. The bedroom walls and then the living room were painted gold with sunlight as Earth rotated and its orbit crossed Sol’s path, shifting the sun south across the eastern sky. Spring edges closer with kitty steps. We struck a high of 72 F yesterday when they called for less; meteorology speculation indicates we’ll strike a high of 70 F today. I think my house will see 74 F.

TL/DR: We use RLT and just purchased a pod.

My wife and I began using red light therapy about two years ago. This involves leaping out of the car and releasing a primal scream whenever we’re driving and stop at a red light. It’s a great relief although other drivers and their passengers seem to freak out.

Ha! Just kidding. Red light therapy (RLT) is photo biomodulation. That explains it all, doesn’t it? The gear we buy uses diodes that transmit red light and near infrared at 660 nm and 850 nm. Supposed to help with skin issues, inflammation, muscle damage, and speed healing. That’s what began drawing my wife to it. I became intrigued after I learned that celebrities and athletes swear by it. Both wife and I have swelling and inflammation matters. Some of her problems were side effects of meds she took to combat her RA and generally deteriorating health.

So, first we bought a RLT mask. It worked pretty well so we upped our involvement to a RLT belt. Made by Life Pro, it ran us about $150 with discounts. FedEx delivered it November 8 last year, so we’ve been using it for about four months.

The belt is about 50 inches long and seven inches wide. My wife uses it for various RA flares in her hips, back, shoulders, arms, hands, along with Renaud’s syndrome. Renaud’s causes her fingers and hands to become cold and numb. They turn white and bend out of shape. This RLT kicked its ass.

I use it for blood circulation. I began experiencing edema a few years ago after a BHP closed my urethra and blocked my ability to pee. They’re not certain what’s behind my edema. Venous insufficiency in my ankles and lower legs is usually cited but it could be a problem with my lymphatic system.

I find that thirty minutes with that thing each day provides major relief to my edema. It is used in conjunction with other changes. I elevate my legs and massage them each evening. The skin is treated with EB40. EB40 is made by Ebenal and has 40% urea cream 40% plus 2% Salicylic Acid. I exercise but I’ve always exercised. At this stage, I do light free weights with stretching, wall sitting and planking, jump-roping (which I suck at), and walking. I walk about 7 to 8 miles a day.

After we experienced success with the RLT belt, my wife began telling friends about it. Bottom line, they’ve bought it for arthritis in their hands and wrists, back problems, old injuries, feet problems. All are amazed by the results after just over a month of use.

So, we’re escalating. We bought a TLR pod. Looks like a sleeping bag with red lights lining its innards. Over 2400 in all. Cost us a grand and will be delivered this week. We’ll see what happens.

Today’s music is by Fitz and the Tantrums. Their 2013 song, “Out of My League”, occupies the morning mental music stream. Nothing that I know triggered it. I inquired of The Neurons but they stayed mute. Fitz and the Tantrums are categorized by most as pop and neo soul. I think that’s an apt description. Amazing how pop, rock, soul, jazz, blues, and progressive morph to reflect new ideas, tastes, and needs. Keeping up is a challenge. I fail at it pretty miserable. I last played this song five years ago.

Stay pos, be strong, and lean forward. Register and vote, too, please, if you’re part of a democracy somewhere. Coffee has been gliding into my gullet. It’s 64 F outside. Look at that sunshine.

Here’s the music. Cheers

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: groovey

It’s March 14, 2024, and we’re swimming in blue skies and sunshine. It doesn’t make this a warm day — yet. The furnace is still running, dragging up the house’s internal temperature as the day recovers from its 33 F start in our area. 44 F is what the digital thermometer now reads. We expect its readings to climb over 61 today.

That’s why I like spring. I enjoy the shift from bareness and cold, or the white of snow and ice, to the brisk green sprouting, sunshine, and warmth. Summer is lovely but becomes cruel, overdoing it with heat intensity. Thunderstorms add a troublesome facet in the summer, lancing the hot dry land with lightning and sending fires across the fields and mountains and smoke through the sky. Spring is full of possibilities and growth. It feels like a season to relax.

I skimmed the news and marked things to go back and read in depth. Hopeful signs, suitable for spring, emerges along several trajectories. Nothing to get excited about — yet. They must play out. That’s the most difficult aspect of modern life for me. I’m given so much information to digest. It accumulates and shifts with the slow effort of tectonic plates until some resolutions emerge. Often takes years, though.

I occupy a mellow place this morning. Sensing that — they can be very observant — The Neurons lined the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) with Eric Clapton’s acoustic version of “Layla”. The initial rock version came out in 1970. Eric Clapton and his buddy, Duane Allman, playing behind the curtain called Derek and the Dominos. The accoustic version came about 22 years later, 1992. MTV was involved.

There’s a lot of personal behind this song for Clapton. George Harrison was his running buddy. They played for Delaney and Bonnie and Friends on the road. George was married to Pattie Boyd. Clapton fell in love with her. This song helped him express his suppressed feelings. A model, Boyd inspired George to write four songs about her while Clapton wrote three. She divorced Harrison in 1977 and married Clapton in 1979, divorcing him ten years later.

Stay strong, be positive, and lean forward. I’m leaning forward for my coffee cup at the moment, strategically placed right of my computer, but an arm’s length away. That leaves room for my black and white wonder floof, Tucker to get up here and supervise my ‘puter efforts without knocking my coffee over or getting fur into it. I’m very fond of not having fur in my coffee.

Here’s the music. Cheers

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Steady

Spring is carefully unfolding. Blossoms and blooms gallantly expose themselves even as the hurly gurly weather patterns foster confusion about what we’ll get today. Sunshine is blazing in through my eastern windows. A blue sky is the centerpiece but we have several sides of clouds in the offerings. Some clouds are marshallowy in texture and shape but thin strands like lost clumps of fur up there, too.

It’s Wednesday, midweek, when you’re into it but it’s harder going, and you’re starting to look for the week’s end — unless you’re happy and satisfied with your job, or you’re a shifty working hours that doesn’t make this the midweek for you. Today’s date is March 13, 2024. 39 F now, up a few degrees from dawn’s frozen number, but short of the high the area expects, 50 F. No precipitation is on the radar for the rest of the week. Highs into the upper sixties by the week’s end is expected, followed by bursts into the low seventies when Sunday arrives.

I read about refuggees of many sorts this morning. People are fleeing wars in multiple locations. Droughts, food insecurity, natural disasters and oppressive governments are causing some to upend themselves to find a better place. Then we have US political refugees like Ken Buck and other Republicans leaving their elected positions in Congress and the GOP chaos, and people now registering as Independents as they bug out of the GOP. Finally, there are the refugees from reality, those locked into bubbles of existence that counter fact-based logic and decision making. You know the ones, the flat-Earthers, the deep-state believers, the stolen election carriers, the COVID-19 deniers, and climate change doubters, along with the christians supporting a person who is so un-christian as their leader that our nation’s founders are spinning in their resting places.

With so many refugees in my mind, I wasn’t too surprised when The Neurons brought Rise Against and their 2006 release, “Prayer of the Refugee”, into the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). They sing,

We are the angry and the desperate
The hungry, and the cold
We’re the ones who kept quiet
And always did what we were told

But we’ve been sweating while you slept so calm
In the safety of your home
We’ve been pulling out the nails that hold up
Everything you’ve known

h/t to Sonichits.com

Rise Up’s presentation had the strongest presence but there was also Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’s song, “Refugee”, which is straightforward rock, and Led Zeppelin’s hard rock tune, “Immigrant Song”, which experienced a resurgence of popularity thanks to a Marvel movie. So you get a threefer today.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward and vote. Here’s the coffee, here’s the steeple, open up and see the people. Enjoy the music. Hope one of them catches your fancy. Cheers

Monday’s Wandering Thoughts

Heard from my wife, who heard from a friend that other friends have been stricken with COVID. See, the annual Easter brunch planning is underway. We’re invited. So are the COVID couple. The wife answered the evite that they have COVID now but were hopeful they’d be better by the end of the month. She — the wife — has it worse.

Concerning, yes. As concerning are the ration of natural questions which come with COVID announcements. How’d they get it, and when? When did they test, and how are they both doing? What are their symptoms?

It’s basically the standard COVID script.

Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

I saw it in their body language and shaded eyes: what does this guy want? Can he be trusted?

Three women, three places, three weeks. I was being friendly. Thought I was charming, as I’ve done all my life. Maybe I was wrong all those years. Now, addressing these women in public places, catching their reactions, I have to re-think matters.

First, it’s their right to not be bothered by others, just as it’s mine. I thought that asking what someone was reading was safe and innocuous as we crossed paths at the coffee shop. She’d previously asked me to watch her purse for her. As a writer and reader, I’m often trying to learn what others are reading. It interests me. But asking this sixty-ish woman clearly disturbed her. Haven’t seen her since when she was a coffee shop regular. I hope I haven’t driven her away. I’m sorry.

I sincerely believed I knew the second woman from another place. I judged her to be in her sixties. She indulged me and responded but clearly thought I was up to something, maybe hitting on her. Sorry, ma’am. I won’t do it again.

I’m used to being flirty. I always thought I was charming. My wife and sisters always told me I was charming. Maybe they were being nice. Polite. Maybe I used to be charming but, older now, it’s no longer charming. Perhaps, because I’m older, it’s perceived as creepy.

Could be that it’s not me at all, but other matters, a product of our times. Women have endured unwanted male attention and assumptions and decided, enough. I’ll note, I do the same with males, chatting with them sometimes about what they’re reading, their accent, or talking to them because I think I might know them.

My wife has spoken of being approached by men in public. For example, she’s working out and a man walking by will tell her with a grin, “Smile.” Pisses her off. She’s exercising and sweating. It’s work. She’s focusing. Smiling is not part of her agenda, and she resents him telling her that because men are always saying things like to women.

I thought what I was doing was different. I guess I was rationalizing it as different and okay.

I quit, though. I’ll keep to my private circle, drop a cone of secrecy around it, only speak when addressed, and keep myself to myself.

This all probably reads like self-pitying whining. That’s not my intention but you’ll reach your own conclusion. I like to write to think through my thoughts. Doesn’t mean I need to post it for the public, but I often find that things which confuse me also confuses others. Or maybe I’m fishing for sympathy and just rationalizing that I’m searching for understanding. It’s a challenge for me because this is how I learned to be from Mom and my wife, polite and friendly. It’s inculcated in me.

I guess this is the new world, at least in progressive Ashlandia, for a sixty-seven-year-old white male. I just need to learn, accept, and adjust.

Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

Caught a commercial on TV. About a doctor and her doctor peers, I guess, and their work in a hospital, and their personal lives and romances. As the female doctor kisses a man, a female voiceover says, “The Universe has a way of making sure we’re where we need to be.”

Well, I call bullshit on that. Bullshit because so many people, including children, live in poverty and food insecurity. Some work several jobs. Some deal with personal darkness or physical, emotional, or menal handicaps. Bullshit for the women denied their choice in America and suffer fear and pain because others decide how they should live and strip control away from them. Bullshit for the people around the world with trying to understand themselves and their minds and bodies — I’m speaking about people who don’t neatly align with a binary world — being denied assistance and support.

What about those innocents in war zones? That where the Universe needs to be as the bombs rip up their lives and kill their families. Naw, I’m calling bullshit on that, too. That’s just the tip of a 2024 existence.

I’m happy that some people wherever around the world finds a happy medium where they are and where the Universe has delivered that gives them a safe and happy life. But I think for most, we live lives where we’re scrambling or helping others scrambling to survive.

Man, television and Hollywood can be full of such bullshit. Yeah, that was a young elderly white American middle-class rant. Just needed to expell it from my system.

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sunspired

Hello to all the genders and orientations on the blue marble and welcome to March 8, 2023, March’s second Friday. Although cold air still has a grip in Ashlandia, it’s climbing. We’re already up to 47 F. Give a big hand to the sun-filled blue sky for that. We hit 61 at my place yesterday. 60 is forecasted for today so fingers crossed, we’ll peak above that threshold.

Crying, “Sunshine,” the cats rushed out to warm themselves. Sharp, gusting winds chased them right back in. The floofs comforted themselves with thorough grooming before setting into therapeutic naps in sunny indoor locations.

Musically, I heard Cat Stevens with “Peace Train” on Jill Dennison’s post this morning, a powerful and memorable song. My Neurons pivoted and put “Free Ride” by the Edgar Winter group into the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). It’s a catchy tune, upbeat, rock and roll emblematic of 1972.

The mountain is high the valley is low
And you're confused on which way to go
So I've come here to give you a hand
And lead you into the promised land
So, come on and take a free ride
(Free ride)
Come on and sit by my side
Come on and take a free ride

All over the country I've seen it the same
Nobody's winning at this kind of game
We've gotta do better, it's time to begin
You know all the answers must come from within
So come on and take a free ride

h/t to Lyrics.com

Confusion, help, an implied call for unity…kind of sounds like someone running for office, doesn’t it?

Speaking of politics, did you see or hear President Biden’s State of the Union? I did, and it wasn’t what I expected. He said many things I felt he needed to say and found it reassuring that he directly confronted GOP obstructionism while never giving ‘his predecessor’ a name. As someone mentioned the other day, don’t give the opposition oxygen by saying their name. I’m paraphrasing.

The GOP response was predictably weak and pathetic. President Biden’s predecessor used Truth Social as the media to respond during the speech. Like many Trump endeavors, it failed to deliver what it promised, failing to load, dropping, etc. And they addressed President Biden’s physical state, ignoring anything of substance, highlighting that the GOP’s only policies are oppression, obstruction, and regression. Sad. Not much to say about the official GOP SOTU counter speech as far as I’m concerned.

I laughed at Rep. Blake Moore’s comments after President Biden’s delivery. The Utah Republican said, “I was expecting President Biden to use tonight’s State of the Union address to find common ground and inspire a shared vision for America. Instead, the president delivered a divisive campaign speech.” (h/t The Hill). This from a party who obstructed President Biden efforts to move forward as much as they can, a party embracing a serial liar as their leader, a leader who declared he’d be a dictator on day one if he’d elected, a party which doesn’t offer a political platform, a party which repeatedly turns on itself. They expected a vision for unity? Please.

Democratic Senator Jeffries handled their criticism well, pointing out that a Republican house member wore a campaign hat during President Biden’s speech and that the expelled Republica from NY, George Santos, who faces over a dozen criminal indictments, was in attendance. And of course, this party wishing for a message of unity never stood and never applauded.

Stay positive and upbeat. Remain strong and lean forward. Register and vote blue. Coffee and lemon bread has been consumed. Here’s the music, and here we go. Cheersluc

Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

Sunshine glistens, highlighting white clouds with plump blue and gray muscles, cutting through the chilly air like a friendly furnace. A Cooper’s Hawk judges the human traffic from a high-wire act. Three blackbirds start an overhead interaction from different compass points, pulling my attention with their fervor. Flying toward a central tree, they posture on naked branches. Intense chatter explodes. Stopping, I eavesdrop to see what I can learn. One spreads their wings, exposing large white coins on their wing’s bottom, and offers a short, shrill, impassioned speech that silences the others. The three depart in relative silence but flap away in the same direction. Some accommodation seems at hand.

Around the corner, a crow sits in a high bare oak branch, black against a blue sky, beaking on about his world assessments. Further on, a robin preaches from the top of a sagging brown wooden fence protecting a yard.

Spring might be coming, if you believe the bird gossip.

The Great American Postal System

Warning: snark might be encountered ahead.

I want to give a shout out to the US Postal System. Rates went up again recently. We know that probably means systemic improvements…right?

Of course! Although, um, postal workers in my area are concerned with mail not being picked up. Thanks to the price increase and a new modernization effort, we’ve gone from having five trucks to collect the mail and start its journey. Now we’re down to one. Wow, that’s efficiency!

Except, ah, my Visa credit card people are often concerned, sending emails, reminding us to pay our bill because the due date is coming up. “They should have received it,” my wife and I agreed. She added, “It’s due the fifteenth and I mailed it before the first.” This was back in November. “Maybe weather delayed it,” I put in. But this had never happened before. Now it’s happened three times.

Jeremy Schilling, president of the American Postal Workers Union Local 342 here in the Rogue Valley may have given us the answer. Going from five trucks to one doesn’t work well, he asserts. “Talent and Phoenix are now on the same route as Ashland. As a larger population center, Ashland requires its own truck. That being the case, the one truck (for all three cities) is already full when it reaches its next stops. This is happening across the whole state right now,” Schilling said. (h/t to rv-times.com)

This is the plan that Postmaster General Louis DeJoy’s 10-year “Delivering for America” plan has delivered to us. Besides the one truck replacing five idea, his plan calls for dropping the second daily pickup. So instead of racing to the Post Office to get something into the mail before the early collection time, it’s just the one collection at five PM.

See what higher price stamps get us?

But it’ll save a lot of money, DeJoy asserts. Schilling’s response speaks for me. “With this new truck route that saves so much money, are they telling me the money saved is because they’re going to abandon mail every day because the truck is too full?” Schilling asked. Seems so from my vantage, but I’m only a customer, which makes me an outsider.

Reduced trucks and fewer collection times are just two of the improvements which DeJoy has imposed. Under his plan, there is consolidation in the name of efficiency. The Institute for Policy Studies asserts what this could mean for me and my mail in their study, The USPS Network Consolidation Plan: What’s at Stake for Southern Oregon. Among their findings are Potential slower delivery times and Risk of transportation disruptions, which you always want when you’ve established an improvement plan for your delivery system.

The study found that under DeJoy’s improvement plan are several nuggets.

Under the USPS plan for the Medford facility, mail and packages posted by local residents and business will travel to Portland for processing – even if the destination address is in the local tri-county area. The state of Oregon has just one major artery going north-south, Interstate highway 5. In normal conditions, the 280-mile route between Medford, which is near the California border, and the Portland regional distribution and processing center site at the northern edge of the state takes about 4 hours and 28 minutes, or 9 hours round-trip.

A First Class letter shipped from Klamath Falls in Oregon to Sacramento, California would today travel 387 miles and take 6 hours. Under the consolidation plan, that letter, passing through Portland, rather than Medford, would travel twice as many miles, and take twice as long to make the journey – 858 miles and 13 hours of travel time.

Wow, longer time and further distances for things to be delivered! That has to be better, right, because more is better, isn’t it? Apparently that’s how DeJoy thinks. And think of how this will affect traffic, air pollution, and additional costs in gas and wear and tear on vehicles. Win win win! Fortunately, they are moving to electric vehicles. Money has been commited, but the transition has been slowed by none other than DeJoy.

You might be thinking, where have I heard of Louis DeJoy before? Well, the man was put into position by President Donald J. Trump (but not appointed), and we know that Trump is all about efficiency (yes, that’s sarcasm) and has an eye for capable people (yes, more sarcasm, given how many positions in his A team turned over in his only term. Answer: 92%. President Biden’s is 71%). Likewise, Trump’s cabinet appointments turned over more than Presidents Obama, Dubya and his pops, and Reagan.

DeJoy advocates for privatizing the USPS. So he doesn’t really want it to excel as a government service. What better way to gain advocates for privatizing a government system that’s working than by sabotaging it?

DeJoy is also the guy who handicapped the USPS and its ability to support dealing with COVID-19 and ensuring mail-in ballots arrived as expected during the 2020 election.

So he’s doing a heckuva job, as President Bush told Brownie ten days before Brownie resigned because he hadn’t done a heckuva job at all.

Yep, heckuva job, DeJoy. Way he’s going, it’ll cost a dollar for a stamp and the mail will take a month to reach its destination. Such efficiency!

Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

The woman beside me at the coffee shop seemed so familiar that I had to speak. We talked about where I might know her from but nothing was uncovered.

I shrugged it off. It’s a small town and we’re similiar ages. Maybe similiar politics; I’m progressive and there are many progressives in town. I’ve probably seen her at a rally, protest, shopping, or concert. It’s one of those small-town perks.

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