Here we go, another week begins. It’s Monday, August 5, 2024. Cool in Ashlandia at 68 F, we expect a high of 96 F. Our air quality is moderate today, with the winds favoring us enough to keep major smoke from barreling into our existence. Knock wood, the fires we experienced this year locally have been small and contained fast, thanks to our diligent fire-fighting crews in multiple communities.
Yesterday, the weather treated us to a sunny rain shower. Big silver streaks of water bolted down. A little petrichor rose up. Sunshine lorded over it all. It was over within a minute. Reminded me of a book which should be written, The One-Minute Shower. It’s all about efficiency.
Just what I needed to wake up to, a stock market sell-off based on fears that the U.S. economy is cooling. Economic news traditionally has a butterfly effect in U.S. politics. That’ll be an interesting new sidebar to August.
I’m continuing the theme of freedom in music. I rejected “Philadelphia Freedom” by Elton John. It’s about a tennis team, and I know that, so I can’t use it. Kris Kristofferson’s song, “Me and Bobby McKee” came up but that line, “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose,” is too cynical for me right now. I think I’m going something upbeat in the form of George Michael and the 1990 song, “Freedom! 90”.
And yes, I know the song is about fame and his relationship to fame and music as a superstar but the lyrics fit well enough for me to take it in a political direction. Please, I like that piano.
All we have to see Is that I don’t belong to you And you don’t belong to me (Yeah, Yeah!) Freedom! I won’t let you down (Freedom!) I will not give you up (Freedom!) Gotta have some faith in the sound (You got to give what you take) It’s the one good thing that I’ve got, (Freedom!) I won’t let you down (Freedom!) So please don’t give me up (Freedom!) Cause I would really, really love to stick around (You got to give what you take)
The political aspect becomes really flimy if you listen to all the words and think about them too much, so just sing out the vibrant freedom parts, if you will.
Be strong, remain positive, and lean forward. Let’s Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has made its entrance. Here’s the music video. Let’s go. Cheers
Welcome, fellow voyagers, to Sunday, August 4, 2024. It’s August’s first Sunday this year, so let’s hope it goes well.
Here in Ashlandia, we’re at 73 F but we’re expecting a high of 98 F. Clouds are roaming the sky and there is a chance of showers. A duplicate of yesterday isn’t expected. Showers occupied us into the early afternoon. As the showers faded, the heat came on. The 86 F high seemed hugely muggy. We chilled in the evening but lost all breezes so the overall effect was, ‘meh’.
Musically, The Neurons liked Beyoncé’s “Freedom” yesterday, and developed a penchant for songs of the freedom variety. Today has The Isley Brothers singing “Freedom” from 1970 in the morning mental music stream (Trademark free).
I think the song projects an element of freedom that’s gone from our era. When people dress differently now, we ask each other, “Why are they dressed like that?” They announce their pronouns, and people mutter, “Why are they doing that?” Different food or drink is consumed and other inquire, “Why are they eating that? Who are they? Where are they from?
Start the coffee. Saturday has landed on us in Ashlandia, where the students are young and the population is old.
A light rain fell this morning. After the smoke cleared to moderate levels last night, I opened windows with dreams of cooling the house. As we slept, the smoke returned. I awoke congested at just before six. Heading to the bathroom to spray saline up my nose and blow it out, my ears captured the ping ping of rain on the exhaust fan hood. Checking it out, I discovered Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) out on the patio, watching a mild rain descending. Papi was not far away but showed less interest in the rain.
It’s August 3, 2024. 94 days until the 2024 elections. 71 F here at this point, today’s high should stop short of the upper eighties. With this rain has come mouldering gray clouds. Smoke still obscures the mountains. We’re skewing toward moderately unhealthy air from wildfire smoke at the moment.
Today’s music will be “Freedom” by Beyonce. Reading that Vice President Kamala Harris is rolling it out as her campaign’s theme music, The Neurons and I agreed that it would be good theme music for today. I admit that I’m not overly familiar with the song. Released in 2016, I saw her perform it duing the Superbowl halftime show one year. There is no doubt the powerful, energetic song and its lyrics fit the fighting spirit VP Harris needs to win. It’s also a fitting album for a year in which the GOP is cutting back women’s rights and shackling their freedom. Hell, JD Vance even suggested making it a requirement that women have papers for traveling between states.
Freedom! Freedom! I can’t move Freedom, cut me loose! Yeah Freedom! Freedom! Where are you? ‘Cause I need freedom, too! I break chains all by myself Won’t let my freedom rot in hell Hey! I’ma keep running ‘Cause a winner don’t quit on themselves
The air has cleared for us again. Looking at the models of wind currents, the swirling brings us some smoke from the north, like the Diamond Lake complex. Then the wind shifts and the smoke travels up along the mountain valleys from California’s monstrous Parks fire by Chico. A new wind change, and we have a reprieve for a while, like today, well, like now. Because those shifts can come with the suddenless of a cat snapping its paw out.
It will get hot today. Although it’s just 73 F now, we expect the digits to stop climbing at 99 F. Yesterday was supposed to see 104 F but I’m not certain we got that high at my house. That’s because we did a shopping run down the highway in Medford.
Breakfast bore the fruits of that shopping. A bagel was consumed alongside a fresh juicy, sweet peach, wonderfully plump, ripe cherries, and fat, flavorful blueberries.
It’s First Friday in Ashlandia. The art galleries will be flinging their doors open. Like coffee shops, book stores, and bakeries, we don’t have as many art galleries as we used to. The number of places that fell into the categories of that quartet — coffee shops, book stores, bakeries, and art galleries — was a big pull to Ashlandia for us. As those places fell away, replaced by fancy restaurants and ‘vintage’ clothing stores, and odd things like lavendar shops, the town lost its shine in our eyes. This is life, right?
Manwhile, friends have a project up, 1000museums at one of the art galleries today, so we’ll be pointing our feet to it and then progressing left right left right (cue Homer Simpson and Randy Newman) until we’re there.
Oh and we’re going blackberry picking at a friend’s place tomorrow morning.
As it’s Friday, Friday music is in my head. That’s how The Neurons work. There’s a large collection of songs about Friday. Like “Friday On My Mind”, “Black Friday”, “I Gotta Feeling”, “Friday I’m in Love”, and several songs just called “Friday”. The Neurons planted Blink 182 and “What’s My Name Again” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark next week) though, so that’s the music for the day.
Hope your Friday goes well. Stay pos, be strong, leeean forward, and Vote Blue this year. Coffee and I have reached an agreement and it’s being sipped. Here’s the music. Quite elemental. Cheers
It’s warm in the house. Windows were closed all night against smoke’s rising presence in our valley. I’m up early to see if the air has improved enough that windows and doors can be opened.
I clean the grit from my eyes. When the air quality gets bad, eye grittiness increases. Then, I tilt my head back. Saline nasal spray is applied to my nostrils. I blow the gunk out. Better.
The view outside is bad. Can’t see the mountains for the smoke. Higher elevations have worse smoke and terrible air quality. Down here, closer to the valley floor, the air is a health risk with the quality index hovering in the 150-160 range. The windows are cautiously opened. It’s already 70 outside but it’s 78 F in the house.
Today is Thursday, August 1, 2024. Our high temp will be 104’s neighborhood. 40 degrees C.
There are 96 days left until the 2024 elections. Turmoil has seized the GOP. Trump feels his advantages falling, so he’s twisting, attempting to change positions that are more amenable to voters. His twisting is disconcerting his party and straining loyalties.
Meanwhile, the Democrats are working more solidly together. The DNC is coming up and they’re moving smoothing toward it as glowing endorsemnts from prominent Democrats are given to Kamala Harris. I’m certan that they’re going to emerge with a solid and progressive platform, unlike the GOP, which is trying to distant itself from the Project 2025 playbook while simultaneously embracing it.
I read a NYTimes piece by former Governor Christopher Sununnu (R-NH) about what the GOP needs to do. Focus on policies and don’t depend on just attacking. Well, that’s basic, simplistic advice that Don Old Trump can’t follow. Attacking is what he does, especially when pressure on him increases. It’s his mojo, in is mind. Witness his attacks and hostility during his trial last May. More recently, look how angry and belligrent he became at the NABJ meeting, where he ended up questioning Kamala Harris’s race. Insane.
Today has The Neurons playing “Broken Wings” by Mr. Mister from 1985 filling the morning mental music stream (Trademark roasted). I think the song came from triple points of view in my morning cogitations. One was about me and some DIY I’m doing, along with novel writing. I was thinking about things I need to fix. Then the thinking shifted into politics and the things which needed fixed. That was all just an invitation for The Neurons to bring up the “Broken Wings” line, “We can take what is wrong and make it right.” The rest just followed.
Smoke is flavoring the breeze. My nostils are stinging and dribbling. A headache has taken up residence and I cough and sneeze. Time to close the windows.
Stay positive, lean forward, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee and I are doing the dance. Here’s the music. Cheers
This is it, the last day of July of 2024. It’s gonna roll on without you so hurry on down to the Last Chance Saloon to get your final taste of July of 2024.
July was a tumltuous month. The RNC was held and Don Old Trump wisely chose a lying hypocritical sycophant as his running mate. An assassination attempt enlivened the news days. Judge Cannon, a Don Old Trump appointee, dismissed the classified document case on him with reasoning that shocked legal experts. Heat records were set for the planet. Disasters unfolded across the world, including wildfires throughout the United States, and the stock market continued going up. President Biden dropped out of the running to be POTUS again, Vice President Harris leaped into the fray, and the Olympics began. Those are just the basics.
It’s Wednesday here in Ashlandia, where the wine is fine and the weed does the deed. 73 F now, we’re anticipating a high of 97 F. I’m awaiting my furnace control board so I can continue my DIY repairs on my HVAC. I haven’t been working on it because of the high heat. Although we both agree, we’ve been surprising comfortable about ninety percent of the time, my wife is beginning to show signs of impatience.
Our quality is good, still, ranging in the 20 to 30 range around town.
We’re under 100 days until the election. Think it’s 98 now. The pressure is getting ratcheted up. Don Old Trump is looking shaky these days. Vance is offering little reassurance in his early performances.
In other words, they’re under pressure. The Neurons selected “Under Pressure” from the grey mental jukebox and has the David Bowie and Queen collaboration from 1981 is rousing the morning mental music stream (Trademark carbonized). Hope it works for you as theme music for today.
It’s good Tuesday in Ashlandia. With air quality in the good zone — just two on the index — and a temperature of 68 degrees F under a crystal blue sky, we slipped out early and went to the Growers Market. Our hunting and gathering succeeded. We returned home with our plunder of organic, locally grown fruits and veggies. Tomatoes, peaches, blackberries, carrots, greens.
It’s the 30th of July, the penultimate day to the month. Expectations have been lowered and our temperature will crease 88 degrees F. Traffic is light and the day has a comfy, low-key feel.
I perused the Booker long list today and plotted about which I want to read first, etc. Tommy Orange and Richard Powers are favorites of mine, so I go with them, but several other authors buzz my interest.
Other than that, it’s politics and disasters sucking in my energy. I reflect on the heavy GOP rotation of lies and hypocrisy and I’m newly depressed and saddened. Some varnishing of truth and polishing of positions is natural in politics to help candidates gain traction but the wholesale bullshit on display with the MAGA fueled GOP sucks the oxygen out of thoughts. Such lies that they tell. Such plots that they undertake.
And so, Les Neurons who are paying attention treat my morning mental music stream (Trademark buried) to Jewel performing “Who Will Save Your Soul” from 1996. Who will save their souls for the lies that they tell? Not lies to them, apparently; the ends justify the means to subvert others’ wills and take us from being a democratic republic to a christian autocracy. So many potential voters seem to think of this as a popularity contest, asking themselves, which one do I like better, Don Old Trump, or Kamala Harris? Like they’re equivalent, as if Don Old Trump doesn’t have a long list of lies and deceit, as if he has not been convicted of actual crimes, as if he’s not still indicted for more crimes, as if he wasn’t twice impeached as President. Oh, brother.
Be strong. Stay positive. Lean forward. Vote Blue.
Coffee is being processed by the body’s systems. Time to write and roll. Here’s the music. Cheers
Hello, fellow travelers. Today is Monday, July 29, 2024. It’s a morning of 7s: 67 degrees F now, high of 87 F later, and the air quality index is at 57 (moderate). Sky looks good from my windows, bluer than Paul Newman’s eyes and just as clear and bright. Cool draughts slip in through windows to flush the warmth of me. I’m diggin’ it.
This cool period has been great but it’s ending. Tomorrow’s high jumps into the 90s. That’s a springboard to a high of 102 on Wednesday. But then, it’s expected to settle in highs in the 90s range for a period in Ashlandia, where the beer is locally brewed and above average.
There are 100 days until the 2024 elections. Time for some people to finally pay attention to the contenders. Time to get off the fence.
He spoke highly of how the United States won the American Revolutionary War by capturing the airports, more than one hundred years before there were airports.
He insists that he won the 2020 election and that it was stolen from him. Despite over sixty lawsuits and multiple recounts, absolutely no evidence has ever been supplied to support that claim.
He promised to be a dictator on day one if he wins. He’s joking, he’s joking, his handlers and supporters crack.
He promised Christian voters that if he wins they won’t need to vote again. Doesn’t mean what you think, his handlers and supporters tell us, that’s his way of uniting people.
He also promised to get Roe v. Wade overturned, and he did manage that. So, yes, he is anti-abortion and anti-choice. His actions speak louder than any spin he attempts on the matter. He’s also suggested that he wants to use the justice system to get revenge on his political enemies. He and his party want to make every Federal employee take a loyalty oath to HIM. If they don’t sign, get rid of them.
He’s supported by a plethora of thinkers who believe the way forward is backwards. They back up their plans with a crazy document called Project 2025. Sure, it’s full of contradictions but its thrust is basic: only Christians should have rights but women should have less rights. As articulated by Don Old’s running mate, J.D. Weird Vance, women should be concerned about getting and staying pregnant, because that’s their function. Families should be rewarded for having more children by greater voting power and financial incentives.
Not mine; this meme was found and borrowed from the net, and was originally posted in my social media feeds by the Blue Dem Warriors. For those who might be upset by joking about the attempted assassination attempt, I’m doing as Don Old Trump suggested about a shooting to “get over it”.
Meanwhile, over on Democracy’s side, we have the Democrats, led by Vice President Kamala Harris. Number one, they don’t mention loyalty oaths. Or vengeance. Their platform should be released in conjunction with the Democratic National Convention, coming up soon.
The Neurons have Genesis performing “Throwing It All Away” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark vanquished). The 1986 soft rock song is about a disintegrating relationship but it has political roots in today’s presence. The idea behind both the failing relationship and politics is the same, though: the GOP is willing to throw it all away. Every advance made in the matters of freedom, equality, tolerance, diversity, and acceptance is being thrown away. They want it to be a Christian nation, and damn the facts.
Personally, I’ve always adhered to the ‘weakest link’ theory. This metaphor basically says that as a chain, the weakest link is the point of failure, and that as a nation, it’s the weakest aspect that will fail. Therefore, you find and fix the weakest links.
Well, the GOP wants to forge all links as white, male, and Christian. Other religions might be tolerated, so long as they’re not governing. One or two token females will be put into positions of power, as long as they’re not POTUS. Other races might be tolerated, as long as they’re not on equal standing to whites. The wealthy shall be protected, and the poor shall work.
And then, unironically, they want us to build together. Well, everyone knows you can’t build together when you’re busy tearing others down. Everyone but Republicans know. They’re extremely short-sighted. Probably ’cause of their misogyny, intolerance, sexism, and racism. Other than that, they’re probably very fine people *snark*.
Stay positive, be strong, stay hopeful, and rise. Vote Blue in 2024. I’ve had some coffee. Here we go, starting with the music. Cheers
Another day in Ashlandia, where the night temperatures are hanging round the fifties and the daytime highs take us to the upper eighties. Like today, we’re looking at 89 F. Air is clear, too for the time being. That can change with a wind shift. With so many fires, and several fast exploding across the landscape, I expect our air quality to dip.
As for the date, it’s Sunday, July 28, 2024. Almost time to put the month to bed.
Cats are okay. Wife is doing fine. I’m doing well. Olympics are dominating the news cycle. Trump snuck back in there with more of his anti- whatever stupidity. The man is anti so many things. The latest turn confirms that the guy who wants to be dictator on day one (ha, ha, remember that laugher) is also assuring Christians that if he wins, they won’t need to vote again. Ha, ha, so funny – not. It’s not a joke to his MAGA supporters; they say he tells it like it, that he speaks for them. So there it is, the MAGA GOP is against democracy. It’s been a growing trend in the GOP for the last quarter century.
Now it’s their brand.
Gotta song stuck in my head. I heard “St. Elmo’s Fire (Man in Motion)” on the radio yesterday, and it just excited The Neurons. Apparently enthralled by it, The Neurons have been playing the 1985 John Parr almost non-stop in the morning mental music stream (Trademark in motion). Sometimes they also include vignettes from the movie which featured the song, St. Elmo’s Fire. A Brat Pack film, I’ve never seen it. As several of the actors were also in The Breakfast Club, snippets out of that film also circulate in my head.
As far as the phenom known as St. Elmo’s fire, I’ve only seen it in museums and films. It fascinates me.
Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Keep democracy in America. I’ve had coffee. Now a little more is on the menu. Here’s the music. Feel free to sing along. My Neurons do. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 