Ashland, southern Oregon. Wednesday, August 19, 2026.
August is moving on slow as molasses for me. I’m okay with that.
The claim is that it’ll be 96 F today. Forecasts yesterday said we’d hit 95 but we were four short of that. It’s 68 outside with high clouds clotting across the blue sky.
Our fingers are crossed that Mom’s house will finally close today. The buyers are using a grant to buy. The involved realtors say that the grant review and approval process has significantly slowed this year. It’s a federal program. A large part of me wonders if the Trump administration with its personnel cutbacks is responsible.
I’m not going to go into news and politics much on this post today. Writing a separate post on them.
I’m dedicating this instead to ZZ Top and Frank Beard. ZZ Top is an American rock band which had a heavy blues influence in its early years. They were a trio: Billy Gibbons, Dusty Hill, and Frank Beard. I started listening to them in high school. Saw them in concert a few times. Now only Billy Gibbons, lead vocalist, guitar, and song writer remains as Frank Beard, 77, joined Dusty Hill in that big gig in the otherworld.
I basically divide ZZ Top’s sound into two eras. In their early years was that blues sound. Multiple favorite songs hang with me from that period. For today, I’ll go with “La Grange” and “Jesus Left Chicago”.
The second period moved ZZ Top more into commercial mainstream pop. They became phenomenally successful. My preferred sound from that era was “Sharp Dressed Man”, which my wife and I liked to sing as ‘short, fat man’.
So here we go, into the morning mental music stream. May your day be blessed with happy memories of good music and good times, and optimism for our future.
Bandon, southern Oregon coast. Saturday, August 15, 2026.
We’re in Bandon to do the Circles in the Sand walk. Back then, it was about 60 F. Clouds played keep away with the sunshine. I dropped my wife off at the Face Rock Wayside at 8:15. Then I drove back to the hotel and walked back to do the walk with her. We finished the walk at 10 AM, then I walked back, got the car, and picked up my wife. So it was a refreshed, relaxing morning by the sea.
Back in the room, I spoke with the house sitter. She and Papi are old familiars so he’s comfortable with her presence.
After that cool morning, it’s a gorgeous afternoon — 61 but feels 71. Sunshine washes over the coast.
Now:
The labyrinth — well, a third of it, from the parking lot overlook:
A few news headlines attracted my afternoon attention.
These aren’t news headlines so much as they’re affirmations of who Trump is, and how his poor decision-making and aggressive power moves are backfiring on him.
Trump and his administration refuses to learn or change course, so we keep going in circles. Trump attempts the same policies; they’re taken to court and are often denied or overturned. Trump then tries another tack to see if it’ll stick.
Over and over again — round and round in circles.
Meanwhile, the United States economy is circling the drain, along with many political norms.
Not surprising that between Trump circling the drain and walking the circles in the sand, The Neurons put a song about circles in the morning mental music stream. “Circle in the Sand” was released by Belinda Carlisle in 1977 and was a global hit.
I signed my name at the beach. The tides will erase it by tomorrow, but I have the photograph and memory — as long as they don’t fade…
Friday, August 14, 2026. Ashland, southern Oregon.
Another cool day in which the high temperature is expected to crest in the mid 80s F again.
More stories are now coming out about the declining situation on the aircraft carrier, USS Abraham Lincoln. The ship has been on an extended deployment to support Trump’s war with Iran. The ship has been deployed a record number of days without a port stop.
Trump has not said anything about it. That makes sense; he’s claiming to be rebuilding the military, and has asked for record amounts of more money for that purpose. To find out now that one of the nation’s frontline warships is suffering problems more suited to a *cough* ‘shithole country’ would be another terrible blemish on Trump’s already horrid record.
No, Trump won’t say anything about that. Brace yourself for a new spurt of distractions — texts making insane claims, bold — but faulty — proclamations about how great Trump thinks he is and how wonderful everything is going in his eyes.
Meanwhile, Trump is the overseer of another modern record that will infuriate him:
Regular unleaded is $4.071 per gallon, up from $3.15 at this time last year while diesel has jumped to $5.40 per gallon nationally.
Yowza. That does not play well against the reality that Trump keeps trying to foist onto We the People.
Your Trump Quote of the Day:
Trump wants an A+ on the economy, with gas prices establishing a new record for this time of year. To me, that’s a failing grade.
Your bonus Trump quote of the day:
Instead of bringing energy prices down, Trump instead brought the global supply chain down via DOGE’s cuts and his tariffs. Then Trump made everything worse by attacking Iran, who responded by shutting down the Strait of Hormuz. That upended the global oil supply chain, which affected almost every other supply chain, driving up costs and prices.
That’s the MAGAts’ Trump: wholly unthinking — except when it comes to himself — irrational, and destructive, taking us all down while he improves his own situation.
What is the point of no return for them?
I have “Point of Know Return” by the prog rock band, Kansas, in the morning mental music stream. This is an energized 1977 song that often has people singing along with the refrain, “How long?” Easy to see how this emerged in my morning mental music stream, given My Neurons’ tendencies. Kind of interesting, but the song is actually about a sailor going off to sea. I think.
May peace and grace bless this and every day for you.
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.”
Hot today, but not overly so, with 90 F as the top end. It’s wildfire smoke knocking us down today. Smoke limits the view out the front; we can barely see the valley past the trees across the street, a sight I normally contemplate as I make breafast.
The East Evans Creek has been going on and growing for several days. Started when a car hit a power line, people have been evacuated from several of the surrounding areas.
‘Back east’ as the expression goes, in Pittsburgh, PA, my sisters are complaining about the Canadian wildfire smoke saturating their region. Can’t breathe, they note; gives you an instant headache. One brother-in-law stayed out there yesterday and lost his voice. Surprised that he was out there, as he was stented several years ago and then went through open-heart surgery. On the other hand, he is a MAGAt.
Get ready for more Trump-inspired price increases! Ha, ha, just kidding!
Coffee is already trading at historically high prices. Last time Trump put a tariff on products from Brazil in 2025, the fallout from high coffee prices politically hurt him. So he exempted food, coffee, and oil this time. It’s only things used in construction, like steel and wood. So housing costs will go up. No problem, right?
Today’s song in the morning mental music stream is “American Jesus”. Came out over a few handfuls of years ago. By Bad Religion, it’s an anti-war song inspired when President George Dubya Bush said during the Gulf War, “‘We’ll win, because God is on our side!”
Fortunately, we have Trump, a genius among geniuses, in the Oval House and he’s learn all the lessons from that war because he’s the smartest man in the universe’s entire existence. Sorry, I gagged and puked writing that bit of snark.
May your day go well, your health be strong, and your food be tasty.
Wildfire smoke arrived last night. I couldn’t open us up to cool us down, so the house is warm and stuffy today.
The smoke is from a southern Oregon wildfire that’s a few miles away. The East Evans Creek Fire exploded on us two days ago. Rapidly expanded, it’s already caused some evacuations.
Meanwhile, down south, California has LA wildfires, and there are fires in Colorado and the Utah fires are still going. Besides the US, there are wildfires in Canada, Europe, Australia and South America burning.
Around here, it’s 71 and we’ll hit the low 90s F today. Cloudy but hot. Two days ago, they were telling us it we might get rain. That chance appears to have evaporated.
Big news, saving Trump from doing more under Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! is Lindsey Graham’s death.
A Trump supporter, Graham was all for the One Big Beautiful Bill Act that cut Medicare support, insisting that too much was going to insurance companies. But he never offered anything better, basically abandoning the need, letting everyone fend for themselves. With little surprise, Graham went along with Trump on the idea of health savings account, which disproportionately favor wealthy people. Results: we have more uninsured people in the US, part of the expanding problem of healthcare in the United States.
Trump also supported Trump’s Iran war, once saying that if the Strait of Hormuz wasn’t open, the US would ‘obliterate’ Iran.
Given his record, it would be a surprise if Graham was against Trump’s ballroom. He was not, and was one of the Senators willing to spend $400 million on the ballroom that Trump said would cost taxpayers nothing.
Other news is about Trump, of course. The Palm Beach International Airport has been renamed for Trump. It’s all ego for him. He likes to compare himself to the great Presidents. He is much like them in many ways, except he’s less intelligent, a liar, dishonest, thinned skin, not very educated, greedy and self-centered, and an egotist who thinks he’s a genius but struggles to speak in coherent sentences.
I feel sorry for those flying into Palm Beach International after the name change. In fact, I’d be worried; everything that gets Trump’s name attached to it begins failing and falling apart. Just look at his business and government record. As POTUS, Trump is a toddler running around breaking everything in reach.
Today’s song in the morning mental music stream is “Fire” by The Crazy World of Arthur Brown. Released in 1968, much of what people can hear is the repetition of “Fire!” But when you listen to the lyrics, they get pretty crazy:
Received my biopsy results the other day and saw my urologist today.
The TURBT procedure seemed to get all of the cancer. Didn’t get into the muscle tissue, blood, or connective tissue.
That’s all good news.
My bladder seems to be healing well, based on observations. No pain, clearer urine.
The next steps begin in August, maybe September. After my bladder has healed from its surgery, we’ll begin a series of BCG washes. This is an instillation of tuberculosis bacilli into the bladder. This trains the immune system to attack the disease. It then also attacks any cancer cells which dare to show. I’ll go through that once a week for four to six weeks. There’s a less than 1% chance that I’ll develop TB from it.
CT scans with contrast will follow after the BCG wash protocol to see what shows in my bladder. Cystoscopy if or as necessary to see what’s in there. Three-year follow up program of checking and washes.
First steps have been taken. While it’s all positive to date, it won’t be done for a while. Meanwhile, I’m energetic. In good spirits. Overweight — got to eat less and exercise more, but I can’t exercise properly for two more weeks — but optimistic.
Thanks for all the support. I’ll try to reciprocate to the best I can.
Summer remains in full effect here. While it’s a pleasant, blue-sky 70 now, we expect 94 F to arrive before the sun curves out of sight.
Papi says, that’s okay. Let’s get something to eat, clean up, and take a nap.
With little surprise and total arrogance, Trump insisted on a huge fireworks display for the 4th. Per nature’s rules, that caused pollution which resulted in unhealthy air for We the People living and visiting there. The situation was made worse by the extreme heat the area is experiencing. Saturday’s temperature reached 103 degrees F that day. The extreme heat caused the pollution to linger.
I have “Cinnamon Girl” stuck in my morning mental music stream. It’s dream related. I had three dreams last night and one involved a woman with cinnamon-colored skin. With my wife, she and I were taken aback by the woman’s beautiful skin. She was petite, barely more than a girl. We saw her three times in the dream but never spoke with her. Instead, we would be walking through the throngs, look up and say, “Look, there’s the cinnamon girl.”
So, here is the song by Neil Young and Crazy Horse.
May happiness and joy fill your Monday and carry you into a brighter, better future.
I distinctly remember other times when ‘survival’ was the prize during other times and researched to confirm I wasn’t making things up.
What is most interesting is that we went into ‘survival prizes’ whenever the nation was in a crisis, such as the 1973 Arab Oil Embargo and the 2008 recession.
We’re not supposed to be in a recession now or crisis now. Trump keeps telling us how great everything is.
Yet, economists such as Paul Krugman keep noting that people are talking about recession vibes, or ‘vibecessions’. The economy doesn’t have a ‘feel-good’ tone. Instead, what’s manifesting is a ‘feel-bad’ sense.
I have the feel-bad tingles. Although financially secure, whenever I shop for groceries these days, I experience shock about how much prices have gone up.
For instance, Ben & Jerry’s was my ice cream of choice for years. Actually, I was a froyo guy but I can no longer find it in local stores. I still look, though.
I used to get a pint of B&J froyo for under $3. We’re talking about fifteen years ago? This week, an Albertson’s was heralding a sale on B&J pints: almost $8 with a digital coupon.
I flipped. $8 for a pint of ice cream? Has the world gone insane?
It’s not all Trump, but he’s done us a lot of damages.
It started with his tariffs and his crazy insistence that We the People won’t be paying for them. Any who took basic high school history lessons knew that wasn’t true.
We see his damages when we look at the photos of the laughably cheap props created under his eye for the Great American State Farm and the empty fairgrounds. We see it when he shows us photos of tacky gold embellishments on the home of We the People.
We see it when we look at the mess Trump made of the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool, listening and watching as he squirms, trying to blame others for how it looks, denying what he did and its results.
We see it in the paved over historic Rose Garden and the destroyed White House East Wing. We heard it in the lies when Trump proclaimed it would cost us nothing.
He didn’t realize how much it already cost when we saw what he callously did to the property that belongs to We the People.
We hear it when Trump weaves one lie after another about why he ordered attacks on Iran, how long it would last, and what objectives he’d established and didn’t achieve.
We heard it when Trump talked about how much richer he is now after being back in the White House for over a year.
We felt it when Trump laughed and said, we’re all profiting because the stock market is up, exaggerating that it’s up 85%, because we knew that wasn’t true.
And we knew it when Trump said that he couldn’t fix inflation. We knew it when he said he didn’t care about affordability. We knew it when he said he was a peace president and began ordering attacks.
We knew it when Elon Musk and DOGE made wanton wholesale cuts to government programs established by the government through meticulous processes.
We knew it when Trump’s Congress cut subsidies to healthcare premiums. We knew it when Trump promised not to touch Medicare and then cut it in the monstrously ugly named, One Big Beautiful Bill.
We knew it when Trump’s budget was all about defense, setting a record high, telling us that we couldn’t afford childcare. We knew it when he directed that the United States build battleships, an obsolete weapon system. We knew it when Trump said it was a Trump-class battleship.
We knew it when Iran fought the US to a standstill and closed the Strait of Hormuz.
As we approach our celebration of 250 years as a nation, the feeling is not of being united and free. Nor is it a feeling of hope or patriotism.
Nor is there optimism.
It’s a feeling instead, that we’re in a mess. We’re fighting to extricate ourselves, but we’re torn about how to do it.
That’s the crises we now face, and why survival is now the prize.
Michael Seidel, writer 