Category: Travels

Mundaz Wandering Political Thoughts

I’ve read a number of recent pieces about the economy. They focus mostly on the confusion now seen in the U.S. economy. Why tariffs didn’t increase prices as much as expected. Why customers are so negative about the economy when the numbers aren’t bad. Why consumer spending remains up while consumer confidence is down.

Trump’s antics play much into their impressions. He’s broken trade agreements. Then, by leveling tariffs on everything in the name of national security, he’s shifted expectations. Prices are expected to increase due to tariffs. So are shortages due to tariffs and trade wars. These factors advance negative perceptions of what’s to come. Paul Krugman refers to this as vibecessions. These are vibes that a recession is coming, that the economy is not really doing well.

Well, for one, there’s been some surprise in the tariffs. The effective rate has turned out to be much lower than the declared rates. Part of this is because most economists expect Trump’s tariffs to be declared illegal and withdrawn. They suspect companies are eating much of the tariff costs for the short term so they won’t lose customers. This makes sense, if they expect the tariffs to be short-lived. It also makes sense if you compare the cost of finding and luring new customers to your business compared to the cost of keeping them. Getting new customers is much harder and more expensive. Loyalty, once broached, is very expensive. Then, when the tariffs are withdrawn, companies can, as necessary raise prices under other pretenses.

As for employment and unemployment, economists suggest this is because of uncertainty with the economy. Part of this is due not just to reporting confusion (more on that below), but because of the economic activity being generated by cryptocurrencies and AI developments. Both are areas where vast investments are being made. Both are relatively new. Their actual impact on the economy is uncertain.

This is especially true with AI. Artificial Intelligence. It’s here, but meaningful impact from using artificial intelligence in business to increase productivity and profits is slow to emerge. Meanwhile, huge centers are being built to support AI. These are expensive centers. Their need for electricity will drive up energy costs if they’re not countered by the construction of new energy sources. The Trump Regime’s deliberate decisions to cut funds to build solar and wind farms to generate more electricity puts the nation way behind planning and building new power sources.

Additionally, with so many huge AI centers being built, there will be some which don’t successfully compete and then fail. Think back if you can to when personal computers came onto the scene. So many businesses sprang up to build computers to fill this new need. Likewise, look at the airline industry when commercial airline travel was growing, and how many airlines sprang up and then either got bought up or shut down and faded away. Same with automobile manufacturing. Video renting. Streaming services. Malls. Craft beers and micro breweries. Each advance is littered with the remains of failures.

Plus, there is some fallout that’s going to grow because of provisions in the Big Beautiful Bill. What it will do to healthcare costs aren’t clear. Premiums for many seem to be climbing. How this load on their spending patterns hasn’t been clearly demonstrated. Likewise, cuts to SNAP, school systems, college enrollment, are still to be expected. As Federal funds don’t make it to the state level, state funding doesn’t reach local levels, affecting the economy at multiple levels. Then, too, there is the declining tourism, especially from foreign locations. It’s affecting state economies who depend on tourism, but how deeply will they be affected is the looming question.

Additionally, I think many consumers might be like my wife and me. In my house, we made many purchases with the expectations that the economic crap is going to encounter the economic fan, so buy now, while prices aren’t too bad, while the stuff is available, while we can. Basically, it’s spend more now because we can’t buy later. We deliberately stockpiled things we regularly use, like coffee and canned and processed foods from other countries. We do replenish as we can now, using the same rational.

Beyond those things, we know that Trump is a liar. We’ve also noticed that those surrogates in Trump’s Regime who speak out in public are liars. Not just liars but do everything possible to prop Trump and all things Trump up and light it up in the best possible light. As Trump via DOGE slashed through the government, he broke many things. Among them is the reporting mechanism for several economic indicators. He flat removed people who gave truthful numbers, such as the BLS. That burned him, so he burned them. That’s just the things that came out in public. What’s going on behind in the dark can only be guessed out.

That leaves us confused. Can we trust Trump and the numbers his administration releases? Fuck no. Only fools and sycophants believe those numbers. With that uncertainty, businesses struggle to make any long-term plans, because reality might catch up any day now.

Trump thinks he can keep up his numbers game and lies. We know that’s not true; we see prices rising, causing the affordability issues we’re now facing.

We also have Trump’s personal history. That history shows that Trump’s lies are always exposed. He lied about his accomplishments, his wealth, his businesses, and his prospects. Each time, those were exposed. He was taken to court. Convicted. Filed for bankruptcies to escape his mistakes. Cheated on taxes. Stole money from charities he or his family set up. Used word games and sleight of hand and secrecy to build himself up. But it all catches up to him. Right now, we’re waiting to see what the Epstein files show who he and what he’s done. Trump has been fighting like hell to keep that from happening.

So that’s the thing, for me. Beyond the numbers, there is a simple truth: Trump is a failure who lives behind a curtain of deception. But that curtain keeps getting torn open. When it does this time, it’s going to be a freaking mess.

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Adventures in a Ferrari Testarossa: A Dream Journey

I am driving a Ferrari Testarossa roadster.

Ferrari red, it’s a wide, low vehicle. My wife is my passenger. We’re backing out of a garage. The passenger mirror hits the garage door frame. My wife gasps. I grimace. We finish leaving the garage and see that there is a Ferrari Testarossa mirror-shaped scallop removed from the garage door’s frame. I get out and check the mirror while my wife grumbles. The mirror is there but is upside down. A twist and I fix it, good as new. Nothing wrong with it, which amuses me; the mirror is stronger than the materials bracing the garage door. How funny is that?

We drive for a while at a fast but sedate pace. Then…in a jumbled shift, I’ve driven the Ferrari onto some kind of large transport. It’s like a train without a track, with a living room, kitchen, etc., and the mad chaos of eighteen people, including children. Many of the others there are known to me as actors and musicians, Oscar winners and Hall of Fame rockers. I’m amazed to be with them but also think, “About time.” A young blond Helen Hunt is present, herding three children running around. She’s managing but tells her children with a wicked smile and a gleam at me, “Hang on, children, Mommy has to drive this as fast as she can. It’s going to be hairy. Do you want Mommy to drive fast?”

“Yes,” the children all agree in repeated shouts while I’m agape, accepting, this is what I signed up for but I didn’t know what I was signing up for.

“Okay,” Helen Hunt says, “here we go.” She has a wooden stirring spoon her hand and is standing in the center of a room, children around her, toys strewn across the carpeted room. “Zoom,” she shouts, and thrusts her wooden spoon up.

The vehicle rockets forward. She waves her spoon and it rocks left, right, left. The children are laughing. I’m paralyzed in amazement. But we’re moving.

A conference among others is called and I attend. “Where are we going?” David Niven asks. “We’ll know when we’ll get there,” replies Bruce Willis, and a third who I couldn’t name tags on, “But we have to move fast.”

I offer to drive my Ferrari. It’s faster than this vehicle, so I can pull it along and we’ll get there faster. This is given serious conversation. I’m eager to do this but all decide, hold off for a while, let’s see what progress we make.

I go into another room and sit in a chair. A noise warns me, something is going out. “That’ll bring the ants out,” I think, looking down at the floor. Sure enough, as expected, a phalanx of black and red ants rush across the tiled floor. They’re going to be a bother if they go in the direction they’ve begun so I use a foot to divert their path. More obediently than cats, they turn in the new direction, and some wave thanks to me, because they understand why I diverted them.

David Niven finds me. “There you are. Come on, into the Ferrari. We need more speed. See what you can do.”

In a dream shift, I’m in the Ferrari but I’m alone. Others are hooking up the vessel and then shout, “Go.” The Ferrari is now black, I notice, and wonder when the color changed. Yet, I know it’s my Ferrari. I smashed the gas pedal and take the car up through revs, up through gears, snaking the car around traffic along an undulating and busy Interstate. Looking back, I confirm the vehicle is still being towed. I’m impressed that there’s no wind and little impression of speed. I feel in command, in control. This is a breeze, I think, speeding toward some brightly lit collection of skyscrapers looming larger on the horizon.

Dream ends.

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Twozdaz Wandering Political Thoughts

The Trump Regime is warning us about chaos!

That’s like a dog warning us there’s going to be barking.

The Trump Regime’s chaos warning would be funny and ironic under other circumstances. They are, by popular agreement, the greatest agents of chaos in the world. Trump has broken trade agreements and withdrawn from commitments whenever and wherever his whim strikes.

Judging from his texts, speeches, and decisions, Trump seems to thrive on chaos. “I’m raising tariffs on China by one billion percent! I’m going to bomb Venezuela. I’m not going to bomb Venezuela. I love Russia! Jeffrey Epstein is a great guy! I might bomb Nigeria! I’m going to build the biggest, greatest and most beautiful ballroom ever and will not touch the White House East Wing. The Gulf of Mexico is now the Gulf of Trump! I’ll stop inflation the first day I’m in office! Google google gaga. Lowering inflation is hard and I can’t do it! I’m lowering prescription drug prices by six thousand percent! We hate Ukraine. I have the concept of the health plan I promised to give you ten years ago! I’ve never heard of Jeffrey Epstein! We love Ukraine. China and I made a deal and I’m lowering tariffs on China by two billion percent! We’re demolishing the East Wing to build my big beautiful ballroom! Russia is mean! I will release the Epstein Files as soon as I’m elected. I saw a giraffe when I was at the doctor! Jeffrey Epstein is a hoax! He’s AI invented by the mean Democrat deep state who run everything out of a bathroom in Bill Clinton’s bathroom, an idea he stole from me, by the way. Tuesdays will now be called Trumpsday. God told me so when I was making water.”

Yes, I made some of that up. But in fairness, it doesn’t include all the crap Trump did through Elon Musk and Doge and the chaos which that spawned. Nor does it address the chaos spread by the dog-killer known as Noem and the extra-military troops known as ICE which she sics on anyone who sneezes the wrong way.

But here is a headline hot off the net about that vacuous agent of chaos, Donald Trump, warning us that because of the Epstein Shutdown which he started and will not address until the Democrats completely capitulate to him and promise to never ever have any more children, the Trump Regime will need to close some air space, which may cause travel chaos.

Trump admin warns of pending airspace closures due to shutdown—’chaos’

It is just one piece of chaos after another with the Trump Regime.

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Twozdaz Wandering Thoughts

I encountered two hotel trends which displease me during my recent travels. Yes, here is your warning: this is a first world rant.

When I was making reservations, I specifically sought a place with a bathing tub. The hotel said they have tubs. My wife has medical issues, and a hot soak in a tub helps alleviate many symptoms.

Guess what the hotel didn’t have when we checked in our room? Yeah, no bathtub. I spoke to them about it. Can we move to a room with a bathtub? Alas, only one room in the hotel’s entire offering has a bathtub.

Say whaaaat?

That hotel, the Courtyard by Marriott, told us we needed to change rooms. They’d made an error. The entire second floor had been promised to another party. We could stay in the room but not use the elevator. Whaaat? So, we left that hotel and moved into the Hampton Inns.

It was much better. Guess what the room didn’t have? Yep, no bathtub. The hotel only has one room with a tub.

Whaaat?

My wife and I had already been aware of this trend toward showers only in hotels. This was the first time it slammed us directly in the face.

I will predict that as this trend spreads, a counter trend will kick up: we have bathtubs! They’ll be advertising the presence of tubs as they once boasted of air conditioning, cable TV, HBO, and free Wifi. Time will tell, of course.

The other disturbing trend was the lack of a ventilation fan in the bathroom. There’s no switch to throw to circulate the air, help clear the air when the room is steamy, or, ahem, help us cope with body functions, if you know what I mean.

According to brief research (I queried search engines), the reasoning behind this: reduce costs. Aesthetics.

But, but, but…what about the customers’ needs?

I’m telling you, it’s just more enshittification.

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Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

I have been reminded of how privileged I am. How easily I succumb to convenience.

I’m back in my regular drive. Mazda CX-5. Nothing fancy, we’ve had it for ten years. It’s packed 64,000 miles around its waist. The thing about this, though, are the automatic creature comfort features. And the key.

When we were visiting family in the Pittsburgh, PA, region, we trundled around in an older Toyota RAV4. Fine car but nothing special. But it lacked things like a key FOB that let me unlock doors just by pressing a button as I walked up to the car. The FOB permits me to start the Mazda without taking the key out of my pocket.

Man, did I miss that. I ended up putting the RAV4 keys in and out, out and in of pockets multiple times across the day. Oh, the horrors, right? But see, this is a matter of connections. With the FOB, I stick it in my left pants pocket and leave it there. With this RAV4 key, I was constantly putting it into a pocket or setting it down somewhere and then asking myself, where is that fucking key?

Wife and I approach car. It’s cold. About 40 F. Gray, with a light drizzle falling.

ME: “Wait.”

“What?”

“I can’t find the key.”

Wife stands, stares, waiting, not tapping her foot but looking like she’s on the verge.

Pockets are patted and felt, squeezed, then reached into it. “Here it is.”

My wife’s restrained look called me IDIOT so loudly, it hurt my brain.

One time I got out of the car to put gas into it. When I returned, it’s like, OMG, where is that damn key? Pat pockets again and again, dive into them…”Oh, here it is.” Damn it.

It was one of those big, long keys on a clunky handle. The key itself could be swung close to make it ‘more compact’. That was good because otherwise that thing gets caught on clothing. You press a button to flick it out, like a switchblade knife. This all required additional thinking about what I was doing, soaking up Neurons’ limited attention.

Me: “Where’s the key?”

Neurons: “We don’t know.”

Me, looking around and feeling pockets. “No one knows?”

Neurons: “We weren’t pay attention.”

Me: “Here it is.”

The button is clicked. The long key extends. I unlock the door. Put the key back into pocket. Get into car. Go to start it by putting my foot on the brake and pressing a button. The button is missing.

Neurons: “Dude, what are you doing?”

Me: “Trying to start the car.”

“You need the key. You must put it in the ignition and turn it.”

“Oh, yeah. Where’s the key?”

Neurons: “We don’t know.”

Thank tech that I’m back home where I just stick the FOB into my pocket and forget it.

I’m very, very good at forgetting.

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Fridaz Wandering Thoughts

Head down, I’m bulling through the story, editing to find the thread and resume my novel writing. I look up to see a man watching me. He delivers a sharp head nod. “Hello.”

I nod back. Smile.

He says, “You were on our flight last night.” He nods toward a blonde woman. Yes, I do recognize them now that they’ve revealed themselves.

“Yes,” I answer, trying to come into the moment.

They’re dressed in costumes. He is a plug. She’s a double outlet. I love it. They wish me happy Halloween and leave.

Then, ’bout an hour later…in come another man and woman.

“Hi,” she says, smiling, nodding. “You were on our flight last night.”

Shivers of deja vu had their way with me. It feels weird to be recognized and remembered like that, twice. I keep thinking, what did I do that made others notice? Drooling while I slept?

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Thirstaz Wandering Thoughts

My thoughts are wandering as I sit in the Pittsburgh Airport, looking out at the rain, eavesdropping on others’ conversations. Most of my focus keeps shifting to Mom’s paperwork. Her paperwork is just like our paperwork.

Pulling out every bill from 1998 on, I laugh. Notes are on sheets of paper and bills. Who was spoken to, time and date, result. Most simply end like that. No further updates. There are insurance and banking papers, visits to hospitals, doctors, and specialists, and the ever-present pile of warranties.

We are the same back home. For the last how many decades, paperwork was needed for ‘just in case’ reference. Bills and payment records could go wrong, and it was incumbent on us to prove what we did. Even then, that sometimes isn’t enough and required we the customer to scale the corporate ladder past the drones and managerial kings and queens until a person was reached who could overrule the bureaucracy.

The paperwork at Mom’s has some interesting personal choices. Lot of paper clippings for things done by her children back in 1970 through 2010. Yellowed, brittle clippings of newspaper death notices for family members and friends. Crisp sheets of white papers in file folders with emails from family printed out. Things from me from my last days in the military in 1995. Travel information for visits in 1998, 2005, etc.

Mom is now battling Verizon. We’ve all been involved in this fight. It’s classic enshittification. Gotta sign in to do anything with them. Calling them? Hahahahaha. What a joker you are. Should be a stand up with your own HBO or Netflix comedy special. Calling them provided us with a window when it would be okay to call them. Mom had it down to fifteen minutes and counted it down to one, phone in hand, doing little else. The appointed minute arrived. Mom moved her hand. “Oops.” Gone! Her new wait time to reach them was eight hours later.

Meanwhile, we parsed Mom’s crazy notes for userIDs and passwords. Several were found for Verizon. None worked. One sister then went through the ‘Forgot Password’ route and tried to change the password. Hahahahahaha. Easier to turn an apple into a ruby.

This is modern life, yeah? At least in first world America, and maybe only among my family. I, of course, cheat. I maintain a spreadsheet of passwords. 112 lines. They’re for my accounts and my wife’s accounts. If that thing ever falls into the wrong hands, it’d be disaster for us. It’s encrypted and password protected. Every time I go in for surgery, I remind my wife of the password.

All of this has cause us to resolve, do a pare down. Purge paperwork and warranties. Get ruthless about it, and damn the consequences.

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Wenzdaz Theme Music

Clouds mar Monroeville’s autumnal setting. Wenzda, October 29, 2025, is surging across the land. Cars grunt with acceleration down at the intersection, punctuating the 38 F air with flat blats of vehicle noise. Last day here; tomorrow we head home.

Visited with Mom yesterday, and she was in classic elderly Mom mode, telling stories with sharp-mind clarity although, as was her younger habit but veering into lateral paths from time to time, a pattern she has passed on to me. We met with a realtor about selling the house. Sis is lead tiger on that project, with inputs from the rest. The three local sisters are circling this project, as they’re local. Reasonable, right? Disappointed with the initial selling price suggestions, they are interviewing another realtor. I usually interview three before going with one, so I have no problem with doing that. Although the qualifier is that this first realtor is a friend of one sister and sold her the last house that sister lives in. With the Trump economy throwing up all over certainty and the future, home purchases in this area have quickly declined. The realtor said it looks like it’ll be slow for this quarter and the next.

I’m heading to Mom’s to search out papers. I figure I should just box them up and convey them to Mom’s new place where they can be reviewed in comfort as needed, instead of dispatching one of us to ‘find them’ at the old house.

Today’s music is dream related. As I reflected on the dream, in which I was dealing with many famous people but also trying to invent a new game, The Neurons came up with The Police, “Message In A Bottle”, in the morning mental music stream. I don’t get the connection…

May peace and grace be with you and me and all in between, if they ever get off their duff and come see us, that is. Here we go. Cheers

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Sundaz Theme Music

Sunshine abounds outside the hotel window. It’s up to 38 F, a rise from the 32 it was when I took an early morning walk. Didn’t feel that cold when I walked. I wasn’t out long. Maybe that’s all part of how the weather ‘feels’.

It’s October 26, 2025, the day of Mom’s birthday do. We visited her yesterday. Early hours found her sleepy, lethargic, sluggish. She wrapped herself in a blanket, put her feet up, and napped in her wheelchair. A few sixties later, she was lively and alert, and gobbled down a couple pieces of pizza.

Which delivers me to this morning’s music. We visited Mom’s house yesterday, our third swing by it to pick up things for Mom. The inside was in disarray, partly from Frank’s fail, but added by Mom’s bug out to sister’s house, and Frank’s family descending to grab and remove anything that might of been of value that belonged to Frank. I tidied a bit but then stepped out. A storm had swept through a few months ago, wrecking the side porch and taking down trees and branches. It looked so starkly different, like a forecast of the emptiness that was coming to the house.

All that in me head, and The Neurons responded, “Time, time, time, look what you’ve done to me.” Just like that, The Bangles’ cover of the Simon & Garfunkel offering, “A Hazy Shade of Winter”, rolled through the mental music stream, staying strong into the morning.

Off to Mom’s old house to pick up more necessities. May peace and grace leaped up and grab you in a bear hug and hold on tight. Cheers

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Fridaz Wandering Thoughts

Six AM Thirstda was approaching. We were flying north.

I told my wife, “I’m closing my eyes for a minute.” The Neurons piggybacked into the morning mental music stream with “Dream Weaver” but it didn’t keep.

Neither did keeping my eyes closed. I read for a while, drank coffee, ate the cookies the airline provided.

Funny, getting those cookies. Hundreds of dollars were paid for these seats. This attendant comes along and bends down with a tray and asks, like we’re children, “Would you like a cookie?”

Oh, yes, please!

Descent into SeaTac was been announced. The eastern sky faced me. Molten orange was knifing through the space between a dark stiletto of clouds and the horizon. Then, left – north – a white slice hooked my vision.

Shooting star!

I probably felt the same excitement distant forerunners felt when they looked into a dark sky and saw that quick slash of silvery light. Euphoria jumped me. I felt, yeah, that’s a good sign. A good omen.

I share all that with my wife.

She nodded. “I’m jealous.”

I smiled. A shooting star.

That’s better than a rainbow, in my book.

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