Time for some first world blues. I’m in the coffee shop. Music is playing. Business is booming and the baristas are scrambling, shouting out order details, clarifications, comments. Machines grind, hiss, and whirl with energy. Other customers are set up to chat, read, type. Conversations rise and fall.
Above it all is a man with a baritone theater voice. He’s on his cell phone. Although he’s across the room from me, his voice echos above all other sounds. Maybe it’s a matter of acoustics. He’s calling to different businesses to make purchases and complaints. He’s pedantic but polite. His first three calls are flavored with a condescending attitude toward the people on the other end.
“Do you have my email address?” he asks again and again.
“You have a screen in front of you, don’t you?” he asks. “Look at the screen. Does it have an email address? What is that email address for me? And my phone number. No, this is what you should have. 541111111.” This is repeated. “Yes, it’s seven ones in a row after the area code.”
I respect that it could be worse. I could be at home, typing on my computer, responding to my wife and cat, becoming annoyed with them. I could be trapped in an airport, waiting for a delayed flight, or in traffic somewhere, wondering why traffic isn’t moving. I could be sweating it out with an injury or disease, or fretting over a loved one’s health. I could be poor and homeless, hunting for a meal and a little relief from the elements.
I’m normally effective at filtering sounds out of my awareness. His voice and conversations are just one of those things annoying me today. That’s my problem, though.
At 4:07 AM, the cat announced, “Let’s go!” Yes, he batted and chatted me awake enough to sleep walk to the door and release him back into the wild. He didn’t stay in the wild long. Cold, wind, and hunger drove him back in. “Not that wild, are you?” I asked him. He meowed back.
Thus began Twosda, April 22, 2025, much as many other days begin. Twosda and Thirstdas are the worse for me in this regard. My wife gets up early on Mun-Wen-Fri to attend exercise class. She deals with the cat between 6:30 and 8 AM on those days. But today has Papi testing the limits, in and out. I suspect he has two twins and they’re taking turns at this.
It was 39 F at 4:30 AM. If you trust Alexa. I asked it the temperature after Papi came back in. I was curious because it felt cold to my half-naked body. Like Sun & Mun, today features a clear blue-sky sauce and a glaze of sunshine with a tincture of wind and mild temperatures that lose their punch in the mid to upper sixties.
Trump continues to pile instability on instability, crazy on crazy, losses on losses. Like all great leaders, he sets ridiculous goals using ideologically-driven data, fails to take many details and factors into account, and then pretends it’s going great as everyone else prepares to get out the toilet plunger because this shit is overwhelming the crapper. He is consistently terrible and proud of it. Living in a Teflon-coated bubble, he’ll probably never recognize his insanity and the disastrous, negative impact he delivered to millions of people.
Unless, of course, his secret goal is to completely undermine and destroy the United States. That’s also possible. He could well be in collusion with Russian and oil oligarchs and are busy setting the table up to establish a powerful global cabal. Makes as much sense as any other shit he spreads.
They say that the Roberts Court is finally getting a backbone. “They’ll reign Trump in.” Ha. I think Trump is already smirking at the Roberts Court as he says, “Hold my Big Mac.” Harvard and other universities are suing the Trusk Regime. He doesn’t care. He’s already destabilized and disrupted our education systems and research programs. A third of the national NOAA weather offices have lost their leases. We’ll see what that does to the ability to warn about weather disasters. Then, Trump and Noem have been dismantling FEMA, so when these disaster squat on communities and drop a load, the state and community will struggle to recover and rebuild. Meanwhile, DOGE is raiding personal data and will probably weaponize that on behalf of Russia. He’s truncated international alliances and friendships that effectively worked for over half a century, isolating our nation. Besides all that, he’s been running due process over with a golf court.
And Trump and his supporters think this is just great. Anyway…onward.
When I first heard this Led Zeppelin song when I was thirteen, I thought, holy fucking shit. That was a startling development because I’d never sworn before that. That’s when I took up coffee, too. It all seemed to go together.
The song — “How Many More Times” — is in my morning mental music stream for reasons which The Neurons have sealed. They have better security than Kristi Noem and keep secrets more effectively than Pet (Pete) Hegseth. Not saying much, given how terrible and sloppy the Trump Regime has demonstrated itself to be, outside of the Musk-driven DOGE dogs.
Here is the music. When I listened to it today, my inner thirteen-year-old sat up and said, “Holy fucking shit.” This is a recording of a live show. Anyone familiar with Zep knows it’s gonna be a jam and will vary a bit from what was on the album.
Coffee has again insinuated itself into my body’s systems. I’m prepared to rock another day, at least until nap time later today. Hope your day is as purpose-filled as you need it. Carpe diem. Cheers
The cat is sitting across the room by the open back door. His name is Papi. He’s either orange or a ginger. I’ve never given it much thought.
Smiling, I cross to pet him. He shouts out a plaintive and loud three-syllable meow.
I stop and looked at him. “That was annoying.”
His eyes shift. He’s making a mental note.
That confirms for me, that meow was part of Project Irritation.
I’m still putting Project Irritation together. I believe its overall scope is for the cat to try things and then document how I react. He can then put his findings to use to control my behavior.
I offer this with all seriousness. It’s the only idea that can explain the many meows he’s been employing in the last week.
Besides the Meow Phase of Project Irritation, I believe he’s also testing the limits of how often I will let him in and out of the house. He’s also conducting experiments on me by using differing reactions to his food. No doubt, he’s attempting to steer his food choices by indoctrinating me based on how he reacts to his food. He’s long sussed out that I’m his feeder and care giver.
Now he just needs to study me and take control.
It’s probably part of a more extensive cat project: “How to dominate the world”.
They already have the Internet close to completely in their paws. It’s only a matter of meows before they control the rest.
My body and mind were unanimous. More sleep was wanted. Yesterday was busy with an Easter Brunch. We’d been preparing all week. 10:15, we set off to go help with setup. By 11:30, all were there. A smorgasbord awaited. Mexican quiche, salmon with asparagus, salmon and cream cheese rolls. Dutch babies and lemon cake for dessert. Salads. Juices and libation to make it chippier. Easter egg hunt and korn hole. A half dozen present shared their latest stories about demonstrating against Trump in Ashland and Medford. 2 PM, it was all over.
Over to a friend’s house for his 93rd birthday. Just family and my wife and I. He has health issues and didn’t want a gathering. After singing the birthday song, witnessing the candle blowout, and visiting for two hours, we headed home to unpack and wash everything.
Blue skies were the day’s order. Light wind kept it from becoming too warm. 69 F was the tops. Today seems like it looked over yesterday’s shoulder and copied the weather.
I reminded my body and mind that sleeping in wasn’t an option. Today is Food & Friends deliveries. Crank up the car, pick up the food, and roll through the streets on route 3 to knock on doors and ring bells and drop off a small meal in southeastern Ashlandia. I’m the driver; my wife makes the deliveries.
Then, finally, it’ll be back to writing at the coffee shop for a few hours, and then home to wash clothes and attend yard work. The grass and weeds are gladded by the sunshine. It’s all shooting up fast.
Papi is beside himself with happiness by the time the air warms. It’s rolled up to 49 F now. He heads outside and sniffs out the sunshine. Then wind sniffs him out and he’s back in. It’s a never-ending game of ‘In & Out’!
The mountain air loads the night with temperatures that dribble down into the mid thirties. That temp feels colder. But we’re on the regular Ashlandia spring track. Only troubling thing is we’re not seeing any bees. They’re normally all over the place with their buzzing presence. Their absence disturbs.
Yesterday’s Easter Trump dump again illuminated his pathetic ways. That vitriol and lie-filled text mess is a sign of an insecure, demented, ignorant person. Trump’s dark forces again rose to show what a sinister and ugly place the United States is becoming under his hand as two young and wholly innocent German tourists were detained and deported, all for the crime of not having accommodations already reserved. Such fools are now in charge. Then there’s Trump’s undocumented bullshit broadside against Abrego Garcia. WTF, United States. Is this truly your vision?
With those thoughts spinning through my groovy organic thought machine, The Neurons spun up Aerosmith in the morning mental music stream: “Same Old Song and Dance”. Last time I used this ditty was in 2019. Trump occupied the White House then. I wrote back on that day,
Reading the news yesterday and today, I was shaking my head, partially laughing while crying. You know, it was the same old story.
That led to me streaming Aerosmith.
It’s the same old story Same old song and dance, my friend It’s the same old story Same old story Same old song and dance
It was an easy song to identify with when I was a teenager and the song was released. When you asked questions, you often heard, “That’s just how it is. That’s how it goes.” It was always the same old song and dance, no matter what you were asked.
So here we go. Trump is attacking and bullying whatever he can — law, courts, common sense, history, morality, it’s all open to a Trump attack. He’s like a puppy gnawing on clothes, shoes, and furniture. Nothing is safe from his brainless chewing. A puppy does far less damage, though. A puppy will grow out of it. Trump, with his deteriorating and aging mental capacity, will get worse.
Same ol’ story, same ol’ song and dance.
Have the best day you can, my friend. Fueled with coffee, I’ll rock on for another day, it seems. Cheers
From Jill Dennison, memes, we got your memes here. Everything from the notoriously dangerous gang known as DT47 to the Archbishop of Cadbury is skewered. Facts are also tastefully served up.Time to think and chuckle. Cheers
Spring has sprung for loads of pastels in Ashlandia. Enjoy it while you can. Summer is rocketing toward us. For today is Saturday, April 19, 2025. It’s 62 F and feels colder due to cloud cover. Those clouds menace with rain, but the weather seers say that isn’t the case for us in Ashlandia today. Instead, it’ll stay mostly cloudy with some sun and spring up to 71 F.
The weather displeases the cat. Giving up on consistent sunshine and warmth, he’s accepted shelter in the living room where he resides on the Malabar chair. This is his favorite site. He does move around and can surprise us with his location.
Fer instance, I awoke at 4 AM. Did I hear something? Was it the cat?
The bladder said, “Hey, I can use a break.”
Grumbling about giving my bladder a break in the middle of the night, I used the required facilities. My mind was awake enough to wonder if the cat was in or out. If he was out, did he want in?
I looked around the bedroom, dining room, hallway, and living room. No cat in sight. He wasn’t at the front door. I changed direction for the backdoor. As I walked, I became aware of a padding noise at my side.
“Where do you come from?” I asked the cat.
He rushed to the door. “Let me out.”
Today’s song offering comes out of my mind’s old song vault. The Neurons pulled it up after I read news stories and wondered if I was in the right reality. Sometimes I think that someone pulled the old switcheroo on me and changed reality without telling me. Maybe they’re doing this as a prank. It’s not funny to me, but I can see how others could be secretly watching and laughing. Maybe aliens did it. They were tired of abducting and probing us, so now they’re switching realities on us. It could explain a lot.
Aware of these thoughts, The Neurons dragged out “Unreal Reality” and dropped it into my morning mental music stream. This is a song by The Kinks that came out in the 1960s. I’m surprised The Neurons could find it.
Here are the words. Feel free to sing along. It’s an unusual piece for rock ‘n roll. h/t to Lyrics.com
All that I see, seems so unreal to me,
Is it the truth or is it only fantasy,
Is it a dream or is it unreal reality?
All around me is such unreality,
Optical illusions as far as my eyes can see,
Is the whole thing a fake, or the ultimate reality?
That house is so big that it reaches right up to the clouds
It's got hundreds of windows, so the people inside can look out,
And they look down below and wonder what it's all about.
Look at that lady she got silver all over her face,
Is she a human being or a creature from outer space,
Is she authentic or phoney, I guess it's just a matter of taste.
Oh because they can feel it, it's gotta be the real thing,
Because they can touch it, it's gotta be reality.
If they say it's real, it's gotta be the real thing.
See that fella, looking all spick and span,
Is he a tailor's dummy or is he a real man,
Is he genuine, or straight off the assembly line.
All round me is such unreality,
Optical illusions as far as my eyes can see,
Is the whole thing a fake or the ultimate reality?
Is it a dream, or is it the real reality?
Reality or not, the coffee is in me, summoning energy from the depths of my being, which, admittedly, are pretty shallow. Hope your reality works out well for you. Here we go, one more time. Cheers
Some things catching my attention in the week’s news…
I enjoy Ali’s regular offering, Peace & Justice History. Posted every day on Scottie’s Playground, the post provides a high-level recap of the day in history in the realm of peace, law, and justice. I like it as a reminder of the history which has gone before. While there is sometimes a sinking sensation that history is part of a wash cycle, and we’re going through the spin and rinse once again, reading about others stands against war and for justice and human dignity can inspire and fuel my need for optimism.
Infidel753 provided a good overview of the Bond market and the huge implications for the U.S. when our bonds fall out of favor. As several have suggested, the bond market drop probably caused the pause in Trump’s wacky tariff scheme.
“The sale of Treasury bonds is how the US government borrows money. A bond’s value at maturity is fixed; its initial sale price is lower and is determined by supply and demand, with the difference between sale price and maturity value being the interest paid by the government to the investor. For example, if a bond is worth $100 at maturity, and you buy it for $95, then the $5 difference is the interest you get on the investment, effectively paid to you by the government. If you are less confident that the bond is a good investment, and you pay only $90, then your return is $10 when the bond matures, and the government is having to pay twice as much interest to borrow the money from you. In practice, the sale price of Treasury bonds is set by supply and demand and reflects investors’ collective level of confidence in the US economy at any given moment.“
“The reason this matters for the future of Trump’s befuddled trade and foreign policy is that huge quantities of US bonds are owned by foreign governments. Japan holds over a trillion dollars worth of them, China holds $760 billion, the UK holds $720 billion, Canada holds $380 billion, and many others also hold substantial amounts. Even by the standards of the US federal budget, these are very large amounts of money. And these governments have now learned that turmoil in the bond market can get Trump to back down even when nothing else can.“
Some hope was found that the Roberts Court finally,finally, took a stronger stance against the Trump Regime’s mass deportation scheme, the one that pretends that due process has no place in the U.S. no matter what the Constitution and legal precedence says. Jennifer Rubin at The Contrariangave a concise summary of the latest ruling. Now we all wait to see what happens next. I haven’t perused the news yet, but something else may have already happened. Whatever else, the Trump Regime is an evil and diabolical machine in its pursuit of unlawfully getting people out of the country.
Milwaukee, Wisconsin is coping with lead paint in its schools. The Biden administration was working with them to help them out of this mess. Isn’t working for the common welfare one reason for the Federal government’s existence? But under the Trump Regime, the CDC experts who were going to help Milwaukee have been fired. And, the Trump Regime told them that it’s declining their request for help. I’m sure that Milwaukee citizens are probably wondering, why the fuck are we paying taxes, then. I know that would be my reaction. Not sure how this fits, but Wisconsin was a swing state that went for Trump while Milwaukee went for Harris.
‘President Trump weighed in on the cost of eggs around the country, claiming Friday at the White House that the prices are “getting too low.”
‘Trump praised Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins for doing a “great” job and then asserted that egg prices are “down 87 percent, but nobody talks about that.”’
“Bullshit,” my wife said. “I just bought eggs. They’re not down ’87 percent’. If that’s right, why are they still so expensive in Oregon?”
My wife and I were at a pool. I somehow got involved in a swimming class. Others were doing it. There was a white cloth or panel on the pool’s bottom. Our guidance was to take a deep breath, dive to the bottom, get the item, swim to the other side of the pool and surfaced.
My wife laughed. “He’s a really strong swimmer. He’ll do that without trying.”
I did. I’m not a strong swimmer but I’m good at holding my breath.
After doing that on the first attempt, they set me loose in free-practice to keep getting better.
Next, we moved inside. Now I was helping with some kind of television or streaming shopping channel. I was to write on a piece of cardboard and then slid the info forward so some announcer could see it. The info was being given to me by another person, and I was to keep writing the new price as it came in and show it.
Well, I screwed it up the first two times. I did well the third time, and then the people told me to keep practicing. I did for a while and then someone came by and told me I had a new assignment. This involved reading textbooks. The assignment confused me. “I’m just supposed to read them all? Will there be tests?” Yes, I’m to read them all, astounding me. A large range of topics were included. Stacks of books awaited my eyes. And yes, I would be tested.
I began that assignment and was startled about how fast I discovered I could read and learn. After four of five books, I was just fanning the pages. Witnessing this, my wife chastised me. “You’re supposed to be learning this.” I laughed back. “I am. Give me a book. I’ll read it and you can ask me questions, and I’ll answer them.”
She gave me a book. I read it. She asked me three questions, and I answered them all.
Another instructor arrived. I was being taken to a new class. The instructor said, “In this class, you’ll be taught how to use energy to change things.” I asked, “What kind of things will I be able to change?”
She answered, “Wait and see.”
The dream ended as a cat tapped my hand and meowed.
Michael Seidel, writer 