There’s a gruff guy whose house I regularly pass. About my age, he sometimes nods but never speaks as he works on his yard, house, or car. If he was a novel stereotype, he’d be a bitter former Marine who saw combat and carries wounds. Just from the way he eyed me as I passed by on my walks, I guessed he was a Trump supporter or leaned that way.
I always remind myself that I can’t judge people by how they look. Appearances deceive. Someone glancing at me, with my American flag pin on my ever-present hat, might think of me as a Trump supporter. Sad that in our polarized age, waving the flag has become associated with our political system’s right wing.
Yesterday, a Harris-Walz sign appeared in his yard. He was doing something over by his outdoor spigot and glanced up. Walking by, I nodded hello, and then added, “I like your sign. I hope Harris wins.”
He replied, “So do I. I’ve donated money to her, and I’ll keep donating to keep that orange asshole out of the White House.”
I was walking down street when a silver Hyundai Santa Fe pulled out of their drive and turned my way. As they came on, I realized that a can was resting on top of the car on the passenger side.
“Hey,” I called. Gesturing, I tried playing charades with the driver: something. Car. Roof. Meanwhile, I hollered at him, “There’s a can on your car’s roof.”
Beaming, he gave me a big, friendly wave.
“No, no,” I cried out. “There’s something on your car’s roof.”
Walking along Ashlandia’s Hunters Park, I encountered two middle-aged women. As I nodded hello and passed them, I swung back to one. “Hey, I like your shirt.”
Her shirt said, “Kamala Harris for President” in an interesting rainbow offering on black.
“Thanks.” She widely grinned. “I bought it online.”
“Do you remember the site? My wife is interested in buying another Harris shirt.”
The woman pulled out her phone. “Here, I can tell you. Yes, Teepublic.com.”
“Cool, thanks. Have a good one.”
“Go, Kamala,” her companion shouted with a big grin and strong fist bump.
We’re passing through another day. Today is Thursday, August 22, 2024.
I’m still on the Oregon Coast on vacation. The weather continues favoring us with sunshine, chill temperatures, and clear air. Some friendly clouds pass by with a wave. Right now it’s 60 F, just two degrees from an anticipated high of 62 F. The tide is coming in, so I’ll be going out for a walk along the water.
Rain fell last night. Hearing it, I headed out onto the uncovered patio at a few minutes after midnight, letting it fall over me, breathing in the fresh air, solitude, and sound.
The Internet was mostly down yesterday. While others napped, I wrote or walked along the shore, breathing in the air, enjoying freedom, and thinking, sometimes writing in my head. It was about two miles in each direction. I rarely encountered another. When we did, simple nods and smiles were exchanged, acknowledging the other’s presence. The net returned in time for us to catch the DNC, watching and listening to it as we worked on a jigsaw puzzle.
I continue with the theme of a color in the song’s title today. The Neurons wavered between “Tequila Sunrise” and “Orange Crush” this morning. The 1988 R.E.M. song won my morning mental music stream (Trademark woke). Its energy today just felt right.
Be strong, remain positive, and Vote Blue. Not because I say so but because it’s better for more of us than the alterntive offered by the other party.
Coffee is playing with my body in a welcome way. Here’s the music. Cheers
Out for a break from writing, I was walking up Walker Street in front of SOU’s derelict houses. A doe just finished giving birth to a fawn in one of the yards. Hearing me, Mom turned attention my way, and then sniffed and licked her newborn. Standing, the tiny creature took a few tentative steps. Then Mom gave me another long look. I called out, “Be smart, stay safe, my friends.” Big ears coming my way, Mom and baby turned together and watched me continue my walk.
Overnight temps dipped us into the forties, so cool air, warm sunshine, and a dusty blue sky opened Friday, June 14, 2024. Happy Flag Day for the U.S. attendees today.
A pattern of frothy flat clouds dot Ashlandia’s blueways. Expect it to be like that all day as sprummer dips back toward springmer. 62 F now in the late morning, today’s high will stall at ’round 74 F. The surrounding hills are whole green shows. Cherries are ripening on the trees, and the peaches are swelling ever larger as they slowly shed their green tinge.
I hear on the news that heatwaves are striking other parts of the nation and that Florida has taken on flooding. Hope all is well with my fellow Americans in those zones and they survive and recover.
Last night, ’bout 12:30, I opened the front door to collect the cats. There, an on the grass at the end of the front porch, was a large, resting doe. Cats weren’t there, so I closed the door and let the doe be. She was gone his morning.
My injured foot swelled up in a big way yesterday, hindering movement and plans, and rendering my toes into small, fat, sausages. Spent the day RICE-ing away. After returning from the show, I elevated my foot and watched the swelling completely dissipate. Little swelling today that I see but I still try not to use it. When I do, it’s with ginger attention.
We attended the OSF Green Show last night with a group of friends and enjoyed The Rogue Suspects doing an Aretha Franklin tribute. Fanastic. Those women can belt it out, and the rest of the band are right up there, note for note and on time. It was a large crowd on blankets and chairs as the temperature dipped below 80 F and the sun slipped through the blue sky to coyly hide behind the mountains. There was a contingent of fans down there on the bricks beside the stage, singing and dancing in ages from two to 80 or 90. Lot of energy on display on stage and in the audience as the Suspects ripped though “I Say A Little Prayer”, “Chain of Fools”, “Pink Cadillac”, “Jumping Jack Flash” and others. Good times, brothers and sisters, good times.
Naturally, I thought one song would hook The Neurons. It did. The blighters brought the duet, “Knew You Were Waiting” with Aretha Franklin and George Michael. The Suspects did cover the song last night as well.
Time to fly. Be strong and stay positive and Vote Blue in 2024. I’ll do the same. Coffee has been consumed. Here’s the music video. Cheers
Wednesday, April 17, 2024, began with blue skies and sunshine. Clouds have sailed in, blocking sunshine’s march. Shame, as it was a 34 F morning and the sunshine would be a nice warmer. My weather system says it’s 44 F out there. Others claim it’s now 46, 47, 49. All depends on location and how much sun they’re receiving, and air currents. 64 F or so will be our high.
Was going to write about politics news as a WTF America, Senate edition moment took place. News of a US Senator inciting American citizens to attack and torture or kill other Americans who are exercising their First Amendment right raises my ire. Way to go, Senator Cotton! Such a pillar of Christianity and Servant of the People! What an educated adult. And he proudly noted that’s exactly what the freedom-loving patriots of his his great state of Arkansas would do.
Yes, that was a heavy load of snark.
Cotton is a Republican, of course. Violence against other Americans and the Constitution is the MAGA GOP’s modus.
I would write about it, but Frank Vyan Walton at Daily Kos did it well, amplifying what Morning Joe said about Cotton’s remarks:
“This is extraordinarily counterproductive to any cause you’re pushing, but here we have a guy, Tom Cotton, that went to Harvard, undergrad and law school, served in the military, who is talking about throwing people off the Golden Gate Bridge, ripping their skin off. We had a United States senator go on a network, national network, suggesting that Americans rip skin off of people’s hands because they’re aggravated and take matters into their own hands.”
Sigh. Really, WTF, America?
Today’s music is floof-inspired. “Walk This Way” is one of Aerosmith’s best known songs. Released in 1975, when I was 19, The Neurons put it into my morning mental music stream (Trademark refreshed) this AM when I told Tucker, “Come on, if you’re hungry. Walk this way.” Which Tucker did.
Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue. Coffee is settling into the system. Let’s click this way and listen to the music. Cheers
I came around a corner on my walk today. Deep in thought, I was in moving fast and not paying much attention when a sudden noise and motion to my left froze me.
A deer was on the other side of a knee-high white picket fence. I’d apparently startled her. Then she’d startled me
She was about three feet away. We stayed still. Then I softly said, “Hey, good looking. How’s your Saturday going?”
Leaning forward, the doe sniffed in my direction. This lasted for about ten seconds in my guesstimate. Then, satisfied, I guess, she resumed eating and I moved on.
I came across a plague in Ashlandia’s railroad district. The plaque identified the tree beside it as a slippery elm and announced that it had been the tree of the year.
The tree of the year is an annual tradition in our city. Stepping back, I admired its height and thick, expanding branches. Sunlight backlit them against blue sky.
I didn’t have a camera with me — yep, not even a phone — so I don’t have a photo of the plaque nor tree. I ran a search for a photo of it but nada emerged. I need to return to the scene with my phone, I guess.
Forty-seven years had passed since the tree had been honored. It still looked like it could be the tree of the year.
Michael Seidel, writer 