It’s a summery fall day with a spring feel in our area. A thin, waning moon hides behind a screen of nebulous clouds in a bright blue sky. Sunshine splashes off the autumn foliage with eye-watering vividness. We’re at 68 F, on our way to 85.
October always means birthdays in my family. Too many of the people we’d fete have gone through the secret door. But I set up reminders to buy cards during the digital dawn. The reminders come up, reminding me that I need to take them down.
It amuses me that the reminders have survived a succession of computers, laptops, and software updates, yet my regular processes are often maligned or broken. As Laura put it in a comment on my current WordPress issues, “In order to serve us better… (worst phrase in the English language!) …”
Yes, when they tell us, they’re often putting icing on a turd.
No, my WordPress tags do not work today. Hearing that Laura was also a comfort in the ‘it’s-not-just-me’ sense.
As I went through the news headline progressions today, I thought, what a gigantic friggin’ mess the world is becoming. I modified my appraisal a few times. The world has always been a gigantic mess. Usually, though, if we found out we were making the world worse, we would try to fix things. With Donald Trump on the scene, our government actively works to make the gigantic mess an even larger mess.
Which led to my conclusion, Donald Trump is a gigantic jackass.
This headline helped cement that conclusion:
Third aircraft carrier and thousands of troops head to Mideast as Trump weighs new Iran strikes
Most striking here are, well, so many thoughts. Like, it’s Trump weighing new strikes. Said he was a peacemaker. Unifier. Said the war was over. Said it wouldn’t last more than a few weeks. Yes, that Trump.
SMFH
Verifying Trump remains a gigantic liar and ignorant buffoon, I read the story following this headline:
Trump is not the first or only to donate is salary.
All of this is easily found and verified via the Internet so, WTF is he making these claims?
Donald Trump is a gigantic jackass.
Which brings us to Your Trump Quote of the Day:
It’s another Trump broken promise, as Trump reported making over $1B while being in office in 2025. That doesn’t include his golf and travel scams.
That brings me to a song by The Pixies, “Gigantic”. The Neurons plugged the song into my morning mental music stream but the song doesn’t really fit. It only connects with my thinking via that one word, gigantic.
I remember two dreams from last night but only snippets from a third. Here’s what I recall about the two.
First, there was a writing dream. A young man again, I was in my early twenties.
I love how my dreams often make me younger. *smile*
I was sitting with my wife at a low, light gray counter. She was on my right. To my left was a young girl, white with long brown hair. I think she was about 12. Nobody I knew.
In front of me on the counter was a yellow legal pad. A male voice outside of my dream frame was suggesting that I write a book about writing fiction.
I was laughing and denigrating the idea. “I’ve had a couple short stories published, and I self-published a few books,” I rebutted. “That’s not really a good position as someone giving writing advice.”
But as I was talking, I was scribbling ideas on the yellow pad. Using a red pen, I wrote down four columns.
My wife said, “I think you should.”
And the out of dream voice said, “The girl will type it up for you.”
And the girl was saying, “I’m bored. Is there anything for me to type?”
That all made me laugh harder. On the yellow pad, I jotted down ideas in the four columns as I laughed.
Dream end
The Race Dream
I was in some coastal area with my wife and some friends. (The friends weren’t anyone from real life.)
A storm was coming in from the ocean, building up. The winds were growing higher, and the surf was rising and becoming more violent.
But a race was being held in the water. I don’t know what distance was involved but people could parasail, surf, bicycle, swim, or run to win. The race would go along the coastline.
I had a friend there with a saddled brown horse (with a black mane and tail) and several young children. The friend BTW looked like a young Viggo Mortensen. The children were begging him to enter the race. He was uncertain but they talked him into it. So he climbed into the saddle. After pulling the two children up onto the saddle with him, he urged the horse forward to join the race.
I watched, amused and also wondering, “Is that safe?” I saw that the surf was much worse than I thought it was. I was considering how he would do this, envisioning the horse galloping sometimes through waves breaking on the shore, but mostly urging the horse along on the firm, wet sound just above the water line.
I heard people mocking my friend, “Oh, look, here’s another one who doesn’t know how to surf.”
The starting gun went off and the race began. I watched as the racers went south, through the crashing waves, as sunlight broke through thinning gray storm clouds.
Knowing the race would be away, I went to the house where we were staying. This was actually a large, lovely terra cotta mansion. I was standing out there, having drinks with friends and my wife. It was a small group. Two of the friends were from my childhood, and two were adult friends.
One childhood friend asked, “Why did they call you the professor when you were young.”
I laughed it off. “Probably because I read a lot and had to wear glasses.”
My wife said, “No, it was because you were smart.”
My other childhood friend said it was because I always got good grades.
As we were talking, I noticed a blonde teenage girl standing off to one side, listening. I realized that she was going to back and tell her friends about this conversation.
Turning, and shifting angles, I found a view of the ocean. The race was still going on. I saw about forty competitors and thought I spotted my friend on horseback but wasn’t sure.
Ashland, southern Oregon. Wednesday, September 30, 2026.
Gonna be a warm autumn day here — 85 F at its hottest — with springlike ambiance among the fall foliage.
Had one of those sighing but I must laugh moments today. Reading politics (of course, sigh). And about a Trump administration announcement by the Secretary of Defense, Pete Hegseth.
Hegseth was announcing Project Meridian. Looking to the United States’ future needs, Hegseth is tapping Trump’s favored billionaire — Elon Musk — along with Newt Gingrich, an 83-year-old politician, and Palmer Luckey, a weapons manufacturer.
Yeah, that sounds like an effective group. *eye roll* Perfect for looking forward to protect America’s future.
As Newt Gingrich once said, “You can’t trust anybody with power.” I certainly don’t Hegseth and this triumvirate, or Donald Trump.
Then, oh Lordy, we had the spectacle of a GOP senator attempting to trap Jack Smith in his testimony, only for Missouri Senator Eric Schmitt to reveal himself as a buffoon. It’s another one of those situations which would be funny — certainly worth of a Saturday Night Live skit — except this is a US senator, an elected official who is supposed to be capable of deciding our nation’s laws and solving its problems, which makes this painfully, painfully sad.
That about seems up my morning view of things. It ended up leaving me thinking, right now, I could use some good news, and moved on to other needs.
Hearing that, though, The Neurons introduced the Van Halen song, “Right Now” to my morning mental music stream. It’s a good song to carry me through the day, strong sound, solid vocals. Hope you find something in it.
May some good news find you right now and carry you forward on its shoulders for a couple days at least.
Ashland, southern Oregon. Tuesday, September 29, 2026.
Another lovely autumn day in the Pacific northwest corner of the United States — at least in my small valley. 65 F, with sunshine and blue skies, and a high of 75 F expected.
Spent some time reading sickening news of the Cornell 7. The truth is dribbling out. Right now, the university and those seven men appear despicable, part of the patriarchy and ol’ boys network which so many of us have come to despise. It reminded me and my wife of how Brock Turner got off.
Mom’s birthday is next month. She’ll be 92. My sisters and I are sharing ideas about what she needs and what we can buy her to show love and caring while filling needs and making her a little happier.
One of the other residents is an elderly blind man. Mom returned to find him in her room after lunch today. He’d taken all her clothes out of her closet and strewn them around the room, knocked things over, and made a big mess. Mom summoned the home’s director. She’s calling the blind man’s daughter.
While what happened to Mom is disturbing, I think about what the blind man might be enduring, and how this call can affect his daughter and her family and plans. It’s another of those things which just induces sighs.
Trump also masquerades as being indifferent about the war, referring to it as small potatoes. I’m sure that Iranian citizens will be pleased to hear that Trump thinks the bombing of their nation and the killing of their children and others is ‘small potatoes’. But that’s Trump — a monster trying to masquerade as a human.
Most distressingly, so many Republicans, too many citizens, too many in the media, and even too many Democrats treat what Trump and the Project 2025 contingency embedded in his administration as if it’s normal. Chief Justice Roberts in the Supreme Court bounces around the masquerade ball, fretting about what Trump is doing, then enabling him via unsigned shadow docket rulings for emergencies.
So today’s music is “This Masquerade”. George Benson had a hit with this half a century ago, a fact that makes me LAUGH OUT LOUD.
I hope this day gave you a number of reasons to laugh out loud and look back with joy.
Ashland, southern Oregon. Monday, September 28, 2026.
Lovely fall day with bold white billowy clouds and small, scattered negligee clouds hanging against a blue sky. Temperature crept out of the forties into the mid 70s F.
I got the first world blues this morning. Internet went out at 11:15 last night. I rebooted our system and went to bed. All looked good this morning but ‘lo, no Internet. I called our ISP, Ashland Home Net (HSN), to see what they could tell me. First tech said, “Reboot your router for me.” Pretty damn imperial about it, too. I did and we agreed I’d call back in ten minutes if it didn’t work.
Fifteen minutes later, I called HSN again. This tech was not the same as the first tech. He told me, “Oh, there’s an outage in the city. They’re working on it. Should be fixed in an hour. If you still don’t have a connection then, call back.”
Hour later, no connection, call back. Get the first tech who told me again, “I told you to just reset your router.”
I blew up on him and channeled my pissed-off senior NCO genes, which greatly changed his attitude. Anyway, to make this long story a little shorter, I decided I needed a new modem.
In parallel to this happening, my sister, Gina, took Mom to a doctor’s appointment as a follow up to the UTI that sent her to the hospital, keeping us up to date via texts. Mom has also been complaining of chest pains. EKG showed no issues with Mom’s heart or pace maker, but other test showed that yes, she still had a UTI. So, there’s more antibiotics scheduled, and an appointment with another doctor.
Gina took Mom clothes shopping, too, which was very nice of her.
Back here at home, it was our day to do Food & Friends delivery. However, my wife didn’t put it on the official house calendar, so we were double booked. We had noticed some slight leaking around the bathroom skylight. I’d scheduled a consultation for today for 11, which directly conflicted with the F&F timing. A friend volunteered to replace me so my wife could do the route and deliveries while I stayed home with the skylight folks.
Skylight folks, Andy and James, arrived at 11 and left at 11:30. Just flashing, Andy assured me. I’m waiting or the estimate to get that done. He says it’s minor work and can schedule it and do it done soon as I say go.
So, that was my morning. As I say, first world blues.
Later that day…(which is, yes, today…)
Went to the coffee shop. Researched routers. Went out and bought a new one. Came home, installed it. Everything except my Ooma VOIP linked up. I’m working on it.
My wife’s Food & Friends deliveries with her friend went fantastic! Everyone was home, and many were already at the door when she arrived. My wife said it was much better than when I go with her… *smile*
Later that same day…(which is, yes, still today..)
I was focused on software, settings for the new router, etc. Modem, cell phones, computers, and Roku all seamlessly connected. Terrific!
Our Ooma VOIP wouldn’t connect.
I’ve been an Ooma customer since 2008, and the unit I have is now ten years old. I thought that maybe its card had gone. No matter what I tried, I could not connect between the router and the Ooma telos. Lo, turned out to be the old ethernet cable was failing. With that replaced, all is up and running. Took hours of trying different paths, though. But, yes, done.
So ends my first world blues.
Today’s song is “Roadhouse Blues”. The Neurons began playing this 1970 song by The Doors when I rolled out of bed and told myself, “Let’s get this day rolling.” Bang, the song rolled through my morning mental music stream.
I hope your day treated you well, and you were able to avoid all kinds of blues, whether they were just simple first world complaints like mine today, or more serious blues.
A full-fledged fall day here — cool at 63 degrees F, warming to 73 today, with sunshine breaking through cloud blockades.
All quiet with Mom today. My sister, Gina, called Mom to see what was needed and she could help. That seemed to mollify Mom. Not to make light of it, or anything, because Mom’s needs are real. But she becomes fixated, and it often seems to stem from her sense of helplessness and isolation.
Today’s theme song is “Run Like Hell” by Pink Floyd. The song was on the album “The Wall”, released in 1979. My younger cousin was so into Pink Floyd and tremendously excited when this album came out. I was stationed at Randolph AFB in Texas at the time. He lived not far away, in San Antonio. We had a lot of fun when we could hook up. Sadly, he passed away from cancer a few years ago. I can’t hear any song off “The Wall” without remembering him.
The Neurons plugged the song into the morning mental music stream today after seeing a Robert Reich Bluesky post.
“I feel optimistic about the midterm elections, just over five weeks away. But my stomach aches when I think of what’s at stake. Call me nauseously optimistic“
Yes, that’s me, too. And if Trump loses, many will see it as validation that Trump is wildly unpopular and unsuccessful. Angry as hell, Trump will probably tilt more into authoritarian ignorance and violence, while shouting, “Cheating! National emergency!”
“Run Like Hell” is about a rock star who orders an attack on the riff raff, so it’s appropriate as hell for my feelings today. I’m optimistic, nauseous and anxious, and quite ready to metamorphically run like hell.
Sample Lyrics
You better run all day And run all night And keep your dirty feelings Deep inside.
I hope you have no need to run like hell today unless it’s because you decide to run out and get a favorite treat for yourself. Remember to treat yourself kindly and try to do unto others as you’d have them do unto you.
Ashland, southern Oregon. Saturday, September 26, 2026.
The roads are never ending.
Autumn lines today’s road with beautiful trees and a blue sky. I saw a single white cloud. Not large or small, it was oblong shaped and thin looking. Blue streaks thinned more of it, like someone had tried to scape it from the sky.
We hit the low 70s today. Just a cool, calm, chill day. Tonight’s low temperature will dip into the mid 40s.
Texting with Mom occupied some time. She repeatedly calls and texts. And we’re apparently expected to instantly answer, take her call, etc. If we don’t then she accuses us of ignoring, abandoning, or avoiding her.
I am doing some of that. As my sister, Gina, won’t answer Mom, Mom comes to me to be her intermediary. Gina told me she hasn’t blocked Mom, but like me, she’s busy and a little weary. I honestly told Mom I don’t immediately respond because I’m busy and I’m emotionally, physically, and mentally weary. Yes, Mom contributes to some of that, but so does other things happen in our existence. She took it well.
Today’s song is “Big Empty” by the Stone Temple Pilots, often known as STP. The song came out in 1993 and became part of my music rotation as I commuted around Mountain View, Palo Alto, and Sunnyvale, CA. The Neurons tipped the song into my morning mental music stream when I was thinking about conversations with Mom. If you know the lyrics, you can get that.
Sample Lyrics
Drivin’ faster in my car Falling farther from just what we are Smoke a cigarette, and lie some more, these conversations kill Falling faster in my car
Time to take her home, her dizzy head is conscience laden Time to take a ride, it leaves today, no conversation Time to take her home, her dizzy head is conscience laden Time to wait too long, to wait too long, to wait too long
Too much walkin’, shoes worn thin Too much trippin’, and my soul’s worn thin Time to catch a ride, it leaves today, her name is what it means Too much walkin’, shoe’s worn thin
Time to take her home, her dizzy head is conscience laden Time to take a ride, it leaves today, no conversation Time to take her home, her dizzy head is conscience laden Time to wait too long, to wait too long, to wait too long
May this autumn day in the north, spring day below the equator bring you good company and delicious meals.
That makes sense to me. It also follows a distinct Trump pattern of making promises which he then breaks. Reading different sits online, the Epstein files were he first crack, but there were four others. In each case, a MAGA crack came because what Trump promised and what happened after he took office in his second term were far apart.
For the TL/DR crowd, the five cracks in MAGA support of Trump which I see right now:
1. Epstein files
2. Lower prices
3. Immigration policies
4. No new wars
5. Helping farmers
No, I’m not an expert on any of these things. Just a concerned and aging American citizen. Let me unpack my thinking.
When running for re-election in 2024, Trump picked up that MAGAzens really cared about the Epstein files. MAGAzens spent a lot of energy building scenarios about the damaging information the Epstein files had on Democrats and ‘elites’, two primary MAGA targets. When Trump was asked if he would release the files, Trump replied, “Probably.” Thus was born the belief that the Epstein files’ contents would finally be fully and completely seen if Trump won.
Since then, Trump has angrily demanded that people stop talking about the Epstein files, calling it a hoax. Many are also convinced that he attacked Iran initially in 2025 and tore down the White House East Wing in order to change the conversation from the Epstein files.
The damage had already been done with MAGAzens. They wanted to see what was in the Epstein files, and they’re pissed that they’re being denied.
Many Americans were completely about high inflation and the affordability crises during President Biden’s term. Seizing on that discontent, Trump promised that he would immediately lower prices. While some prices did initially drop, Trump first said that lowering inflation was harder than he thought, then dismissed affordability as a hoax, and then started the war with Iran in 2026.
Prices had already been going up in 2025, due to many factors, including Trump’s tariffs and the trade agreements he broke.
Trump then started the Iran war in February of 2026. This no gave him cover for higher prices; the higher prices were due to the war, yes, but he was doing it to free Iranians from their terrible government and to save the world from Iran’s nuclear weapons.
Either way, prices keep rising, and many now blame Trump. The second crack with MAGA had begun to spread.
Trump initially did just as he promised with immigrants. He went after them hard and violently.
Trump’s MAGA supporters were initially gleeful. But then their friends and relatives began getting picked up and whisked away.
A collective cry went out among MAGAzens. Trump said he was going to deport criminals, but he was departing people who were not criminals. Many were here legally, trying to go through the process of becoming US citizens.
Trump didn’t care. They weren’t born in the US, so he was departing them. Then, to worsen matters, Trump began sending them to nations where they were not from.
While running for office in 2024, Trump promised no new wars. He made speeches that Kamala Harris and the Democrats would start new foreign wars and decried the idea that Americans would go off and fight in another endless war.
Then, in 2026, before he was in office for two full years, Trump attacked Iran. Since then, Americans have been treated to a shifting tapestry about why Iran was attacked and the war’s objectives, how much the war is costing us, and when the war would end.
It was not the cakewalk that Trump and his administration expected. They had put in a Fox personality as the head of DOD and fired many high-ranking individuals. Trump and his staff thought they could bomb Iran into submission in a matter of days or weeks.
They were wrong.
Trump’s Iran War has been going over 210 days. Trump calls it a conflict to avoid problems with Congress and the Constitution and then calls it a war when it’s convenient to sell demands for more weapons, munitions, and cutbacks to other programs.
Even MAGAzens are seeing through this, opening a fourth crack with Trump’s MAGA base.
Trump campaigned on helping American farmers and ranchers. Trump said that raising tariffs would save American farmers because other countries were taking advantage of the US.
The tariffs didn’t lower prices. Nor did they open markets. Instead, the tariffs and Trump’s Iran war raised prices. The prices which went up the most affecting farmers and ranchers was diesel fuel and fertilizer. Potash was primary imported from Canada; Trump’s tariffs and trade war with Canada pushed those prices up yet more. In fact, diesel prices increased transportation costs across the board.
Trump knew his tariffs and the war, with its resulting high diesel prices, was hurting both consumers and producers. To address it, Trump pushed a temporary suspension of his tariffs on imported beef.
That resulted in anger among ranchers and farmers, because it didn’t help them. Farmers and ranchers’ problems are far more complex and has to do with droughts, rising energy prices, and smaller herds. Those things couldn’t be fixed by a bandage like suspended tariffs for a limited period and amounts.
Nor did suspending tariffs substantially lower prices. The fifth crack with MAGA opened.
There are potentially other cracks getting exposed.
The national debt is growing fast, disrupting the accepted truism that Republicans are fiscally more responsible.
People of both parties are pushing back against AI and data center construction while Trump urges more building. Trump is pushing for their construction because that’s where most of the commercial construction in the US is now taking place. Stopping construction of them would massively affect the stock market and economy.
Many rifts are emerging between Trump and MAGA. Some of those will probably expand into more cracks in their support of Trump.
The larger question for us now is when will traditional Republicans finally realize that the Trump experiment is a disaster and give him up?
Ashland, southern Oregon. Thursday, September 24, 2026.
We’re winding September down. Less than a week to go. Autumn continues stealing in, delivering threats of light rain, weaker sunshine, shorter days, cooler temperatures. Clouds give the day a weary bleakness. Sunshine seems like it needs to go back to bed. Yet, today’s high will tap the low 80s F.
Unemployment stayed about the same, while the broader U6 declined a little. Looking at the reports, though, many were associated with local government and schools. In other words, it was because the school year started again. Hospitality service also had some small growth in employment, bouncing back after a miserable summer for that industry, as far as employment goes.
Mom is begging my sisters to let her live with her. She’s also painting a different recollection of what’s happened in the past year. I spent time last night reading my sisters’ texts to me from the early 2026 troubles with Mom. Leaving with my sister, Gina, at the time, Mom was texting me about how unhappy she was, how she wanted to return to her own home and live there. Now she’s telling us — again — how unhappy she is at the affordable living place and wants to move. Texts from last October include Mom’s confession that she while living alone, she kept falling and ended up sleeping on the floor. It really is a no-win period for all involved.
Thinking about Mom, my sisters and I repeatedly focus on ‘what went wrong’. I often hear ‘it’s Mom’s own fault’, but I’ve seen her personality and mental acuity change, along with her memory. Yes, I bemoan Mom’s choices as we tried to get her and her partner to move into a safer space or to allow us to hire someone to clean and otherwise assist Mom. Mom, and her partner, Frank, rejected all those suggestions. Yet…yet, we could not have predicted that Frank would fall down the steps and die. We did worry about it.
‘What went wrong’ seems like the wrong question. Mom aged and changed, as we all do. This is another of those ‘if only’ exercises so many of us find ourselves going through as we look back on our lives.
Today’s music is by Oasis. “Where Did It All Go Wrong” is a soft lament about struggling to understand change.
Hope your day goes well — friction free, with good decisions, and wonderful outcomes.
