Brilliant Humor Collection
Interested in doing some laughing, GRRRRowling, and cryin’? Jill D. delivers again. Here are my top four. Man, stopping at four was a challenge. Jill has a magnificent collection to peruse this week. Check out her full post and find your favorites.
Sundaz Wandering Thoughts
Frank passed away, so I’m remembering Frank. 95, he and Mom were together for his life’s last twenty years plus. Which, as I think about it, causes me to realize that Frank was about five years older than my present age when he and Mom met. My youngest sister, Lisa, was the agent of their coming together. Mom was dating another, Ed, at the time. Lisa worked in a bank. She regularly saw Frank and decided that Frank and Mom were a good match. When she suggested it to Frank, he asked, “Is she pretty?” Lisa beamed and gave a knowing nod. “Yep.”
Lisa was right. Mom and Frank hit it right off. All was a lot of fun for years. Biking, walking, movies, tennis, dancing, estate sales. They had a good life before Mom’s accidents, health, and drugs crippled things. I’m happy they had those years together.
When my wife and I talked about it, she marveled about old people dating. “People our age,” she exclaimed as we both laughed. She went on, “I’m like that song. I’m not ready to get naked in front of another.”
We spoke more seriously about friends and relatives our age and older dating. Ron, 78, lost his wife ten years ago to breast cancer. He’s had a regular girlfriend for three years. Now he’s dating another woman and they’re having fun. Sis-in-law, coming up on 70, has a regular boyfriend, her third since her husband died of brain cancer about five years ago (I think). Then there’s Barb, 81 this Feb, dating a guy who is her age. Both had preferred younger people and would hook up with someone for a few months and then move on. Now, months into this relationship, Barb professes that she’s in love. Sweet and beautiful.
So, there’s hope, if you put yourself out there. As Frank and Mom did. Hell, as Dad did. Now at 92, he’s on his third marriage. It’s lasted over thirty years, the longest marriage of his life, and he seems happy and contented.
Hope and love aren’t limited by age.
Sundaz Theme Music
Sunda. October 19, 2025. Rain hissed on the roof. The house heater added a rush of air. 49 F, rain is expected all day, with a temperature that peaks at 61 F. Fog has sunk its teeth into the surrounding mountains. Leafy golds, yellows, oranges, and reds glow. Papi galloped in, threw himself down and vigorously applied his tongue to his orange fur to rid himself of that accursed wet. Then it was on to food, nom nom nom.
The No Kings II protest went well. We made it an hour late. Finding parking was a Lewis & Clark expedition. Was great being out there yesterday with other protestors, waving our signs, protesting the GOP eagerness to let Trump be king, protesting Trump’s arrogance that he should be king, protesting the general shit show Trump, Project 2025, and the GOP are putting on. Felt good to know others like us are out there, and they’re standing up. Even more satisfying and validating were the cars going by, horns blowing, giving us thumbs up, holding up peace signs, shouting, “Right on.” Only heard one “Fuck you,” and one “Sieg heil.” The latter came from a woman. Both of these disapprovers were in huge pickemups.
My greatest disappointment was that most of the protesters were old folks like us. The young were in short supply. My wife reminded me that they probably have to work and to cut them some slack. Anyway, thinking about the young provoked The Neurons to bring up a Eurythmics song, “All the Young (People of Today)”. Came out in 1981. Odd vibe to it. I thought, wow, that’s a weird one to come up with. I know it from listening to Euythmics CDs. Don’t think any radio station ever sent it to my ears.
Mom’s new habitat enclosure at sis’s house is getting developed fast. Small dorm frig has been added. A microwave. Hope Mom will be happy there, along with warm and safe. There was a whole late-night misadventure on Friday night. Mom thought she heard someone trying to get into her house and knocking on the door, calling her name. She was there alone. Hiding in her bathroom, she texted her daughters and grandchildren to call the police for her. Why she didn’t do that for herself is one aspect of the mystery. As it was after midnight, most were asleep or away from their phones. Mom’s texts went unnoticed until a grandson, Michael, saw it. Then 911 was called, etc. Police showed up, knocking on Mom’s front door. She wouldn’t answer. She was hiding in the bathroom. The police reported deer were on the small stoop outside of Mom’s room, eating off a tree by the house. 911 had to call my sister, who called Mom to tell her what was going on.
Coffee is singing to The Neurons once again. The day has grown brighter. The temperature has climbed to 50 and if you lean forward and squint at just the right angle, there’s a small blue patch struggling to break out of the cloud eggs containing it. Which reminds me. Hope peace and grace break out of their shells soon and bless us with some visiting. Here we go, on into another day, another week, another…well, you know. Cheers
Sundaz Wandering Political Thoughts
I’m not reposting it or linking to it. Trump released an AI video of himself as a king and a fighter pilot.
Trump weaseled out of serving his nation five times when he was young.
Whined about having bone spurs.
Now he pretends to be a fighter pilot, a specimen of individual who is highly trained and extremely fight, 180 from what he is. There it is again, the alternate Trump reality, where facts, truth, history, and logic are completely disengaged. Not a good place for someone in his position. He needs to be removed. If this isn’t 25th Amendment material, what is?
The other part…where he projects himself as king. Well, that’s exactly what we’re protesting in the No Kings rallies. As a POTUS pretending to be a king, acting like he’s a king, above We the People, and not serving us, he should be impeached.
Worse, though, he fantasizes about bombing American citizens. Dropping sewage on them. How horrible is that for anyone who occupies the Oval Office?
And those deep, deep, double standards are fully in play here. Listen to the crickets as the GOP say nothing. Recall their fervent outrage against President Joe Biden. How they bleated about him being unfit. He, who never released a video fantasy about being a king, being a fighter pilot, and bombing our people.
Imagine the uproar if this had been President Obama. My, oh, my, the shockwaves would have felt like major earthquakes across the continent.
But here we have it, signs of a demented, detached individual fantasizing about being a fighter pilot and king, bombing his citizens.
And they say nothing.
Their silence speaks as loudly as Trump’s video fantasy. They are as corrupt and complicit as him.
And this is why we march and protest.
No kings. Not in 1776. Not in 2025.
Not. Ever.
Satyrdaz Wandering Political Thoughts
I joined some patriots today to announce, again, “No Kings” for the United States.
It was a good way to spend an October Saturday in the United States.
And it was all for a good reason.
Republicans Know How Vulnerable Trump Is. The Attacks on No Kings Prove It.
Jamelle Bouie
In the four months since the last No Kings protests, President Trump has gone even further down the road of claiming plenary authority over the executive branch. He has continued to claim the right to fire anyone he pleases, to cancel or spend federal funds outside congressional appropriations and to launch lethal strikes against foreign civilians without explicit authorization from Congress or evidence of imminent threat to Americans.
The president has tried to leverage the power of the federal government against his political opponents and legal adversaries, sending the Justice Department after James Comey, a former director of the F.B.I.; Attorney General Letitia James of New York; and one of Trump’s former national security advisers, John Bolton. Trump also wants to use the I.R.S. and other agencies to harass liberal donors and left-leaning foundations. He has even tried to revive lèse-majesté, threatening critics of his administration and its allies with legal and political sanctions. With Trump, it’s as if you crossed the bitter paranoia of Richard Nixon with the absolutist ideology of Charles I.
Today’s protesters, in other words, are standing for nothing less than the anti-royal and republican foundations of American democracy. For the leaders of the Republican Party, however, these aren’t citizens exercising their fundamental right to dissent but subversives out to undermine the fabric of the nation.
Our local protests in Ashland and Medford
Ashland’s “No Kings” Rally That Was Cancelled, Then Wasn’t Cancelled – A Thousand Came to Protest #1
Ashland’s “No Kings” Rally That Was Cancelled, Then Wasn’t Cancelled – A Thousand Came to Protest #2
Thousands line busy Medford thoroughfare for second ‘No Kings’ protest
And across the state…
‘No Kings’ rallies bring thousands to 50 communities across Oregon
And across the United States…
Crowds gather at anti-Trump “No Kings” rallies across the U.S., worldwide
‘No Kings’ protesters emerge en masse for anti-Trump rallies
Live updates: Thousands of No Kings protesters rally across Houston area
‘No Kings 2.0’ protest in Grand Junction
And outside of the United States…
Thank you, fellow patriots.
Satyrdaz Theme Music
It’s Satyrda, Oct 18, 2025, also known as No Kings II. This is a day when We the People come together to remind Trump, Project 2025, the GOP, and the rest of the world that the United States rejected kings ruling them twice before, in 1776, and then again when the idea was floated before G. Washington. We didn’t want kings then; we don’t want them in 2025.
My spouse and I spent time last night constructing our signs and finalizing our plans. This morning, my wife came to me. “I screwed up,” she said. “My doctor appointment isn’t 1:30, it’s 11:30.”
Oh. That changed things. Originally, we would hit the rally from 11 to 1, leave at 1 and go to her appointment. Now we’ll go to her appointment and then head to the rally when it’s over.
It’s a brisk fall morning out there. Plentyo sunshine, clear, blue sky, but just 39 F at our place. 75 F will be ours before the night pulls in.
For the record, the Epstein Shutdown continues along on cruise control. Republicans are mostly content to let things slide and refuse to fix healthcare issues for millions of Americans. That’s just how they roll.
Today’s song comes from a convo with my wife last night. I was doing a load of delicates. Did she want to put anything in? Sure. She zipped around doing her collection, then came to me and said, “I can’t find my sports bra.” I found it in the laundry basket. She’d just overlooked it. But meanwhile, The Neurons projected a song variation in my head. They had me singing, “Looking for my bra in all the wrong places,” to the tune of “Lookin’ for Love”. “Lookin’ for Love” by Johnny Lee was a 1980 hit associated with the movie, Urban Cowboy. We were livin’ in San Antonio, Texas, at the time, and you could not escape the song. Anyway, The Neurons kept it going in the morning mental music stream. That’s how it came to be here.
Coffee is flirting with The Neurons. Time to get up and at them. Hope grace and peace find us all today and maybe stick around long enough for us to get to know them. Hope to see you at the protests. Cheers
‘Nother
Another forgotten face
Another forgotten place
Another forgotten time
Another misplaced rhyme
Another greedy scheme
Another waylaid dream
Fridaz Wandering Thoughts
I’ve been sitting here, stewing and worrying about Mom.
I should have known better.
Backstory to this, Mom’s live-in boyfriend died this week after an accident. Mom has been experiencing multiple health issues, going back more than twenty years. Frank’s death and Mom’s health issues were both marked with a fall down the same set of steps. I worried about that happening for years and kept warning them. Now it’s taken Frank.
Frank’s passing is a big shock to Mom’s way of life. Frank still drove his car, although it could be terrifying at times. He was 95 and almost blind in one eye, so there were some “Yikes!” moments. Well, many “Yikes!” moments. But he shopped for Mom, took her to her appointments, picked up her prescriptions, helped her dress and clean, and so many other things that a spouse does for their other. He also contributed to paying her bills. With Frank gone, who was going to do these things for Mom?
Little sis, the powerhouse of the family, sent me a text today that she’s been busy getting ready for Mom to move.
Turns out, even before Frank passed away, sis suggested to Mom that Mom live with sis in her house. Sis has a full house already. Her youngest daughter and boyfriend live with her. So does her hubby. But sis has a finished half basement which they’d set up as an exercise space and lounge. It has its own bathroom. Now sis is cleaning it up and setting it up as Mom’s new permanent residence. The floor is level so she can wheel around with no problem. There’s a refrigerator down there. The aforementioned bathroom. It’s connected to the garage so she can roll right out to the car as needed.
As sis puts it, Mom could also go upstairs with some help, so she can participate in things. Mom will be contributing to electricity, sewer, and water to help defray the increased costs.
Sis has cleaned out Mom’s kitchen cupboards already. She found a can of cocoa in there that she says might have been from a time before manufacturers were required to put expiration dates on cans.
It is so good to have such a capable and energetic little sister. Gotta love her.
Ghostly Thoughts
Ghost are all around, inhabiting the land.
Offices.
Factories.
Houses.
They’re sometimes noticed.
Most are forgotten.
Except by other ghosts.
The ghosts did many things for us.
Served in the military.
Protected us.
Gave their lives.
Raised food for us. Fed us.
Kept us safe.
Wrote laws with the best intentions.
And tried to lift us up and lead us forward.
They gave us light and security.
Running water.
Safe water.
Safe homes.
Electricity.
Bridges and roads.
Books and paintings, music and rock.
Humor.
Raised us up with hands and ideas.
And now wait.
Until we’re ghosts.
And join them.
To be forgotten.
Remembered only by other ghosts.
Michael Seidel, writer 