Tag: 1971

Monday’s Theme Music – Failure

Ashland, southern Oregon. Monday, August 3, 2026.

It’s cool now but heat and fire weather warnings are up. Our present temp is 68 F but we’re bracing for a 96 F high as the heat dome comes our way. Will the jet stream save us? If it doesn’t they warn us, brace yourself for temperatures over 100 with a heat index that pushes it much higher.

My wife and I had the case of the missing mangos this morning. “Hey, didn’t we buy mangos?” she asked, looking around.

Yes, I agreed, also looked around. We began a search. Not in the frig, on the counter anywhere. Didn’t ‘somehow’ get left in the car. At last: the last place we looked: with the potatoes.

My wife said. “I was tired when we were putting the food away.”

Case solved.

This is unlike the case of the missing senator. “He’s alive,” the GOP proclaims, but Mitch McConnell still hasn’t been seen in public for almost two months. It’s starting to be a lot like Trump’s war.

Trump’s war with Iran is also in a limbo states. Back in March, Trump and Hegseth claimed the war was over, with Trump declaring it was an “unmitigated success”.

That was six months ago.

Then Trump has gone on and off the record about what’s happening, swatting away any attempt to being held accountable to We the People. “I’m gonna bomb them,” he texts, then reverses himself. Oil prices rise and drop. Oil companies are making record profits. The rest of us scramble to deal with rising prices. That’s standard under GOP guidance: the rich get richer, the poor are told to suck rocks.

The Iran war is just one of many incomplete Trump mysteries. Other is, what happened to releasing the Epstein files? Trump promised he would release the files. A law was passed that they must be released. After months of distraction, Trumpnions are still holding them back on behalf of the bossman.

Thanks to Pirro’s terrible legal skills in leading the DoJ, the case about the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool is much stronger. Let the records show that it’s just as we thought, that Trump’s contractor botched the job and Trump scrambled to save face by screaming, “Vandals! Plots! Democrats!” Just as he does every time he screws up.

Likewise, the Freedom250 celebration isn’t as profitable and successful as Trump crowed it was, which required that We the People made up the shortfall. We all kind of saw that coming: Trump announced the performers and almost all immediately said, “No, no, we’re not part of this.”

Yes, it’s been the summer of Trump failures. Building toward a year.

Except for grifting; as always, he’s taking care of himself, making a ton of money by making the Oval Office into a crime boss’s golden lair. Between his ruthless need to be honored and his insane hunger to appear rich and powerful, he’s become a Bond villain caricature, which is something, since they’re often caricatures to begin.

Except, also, for the tournament he won at one of his golf courses. He won that. Everyone outside of his grift circle immediately questioned whether he cheated. This is because he’s Donald Trump, a known liar, adulterer, and cheater. Just pick a topic. Look what he promised and claimed. If you’re a MAGAt or Republican, you’re fine because the ends justify the means for you. So, Trump Double Standards are employed.

But they’ll reach that final FAFO moment when they’ve burned it all down. Given their recent history, they’ll pivot: create conspiracies. Blame others about what went wrong.

Just like their leader, Donald J. Trump.

Your Trump Quote(s) of the Day:

Trump on Jeffrey Epstein:

Trump on Affordability:

And the only truth Trump has ever uttered:

Today’s occupant in the morning mental music stream is “Power Failure” by Procol Harum. Released in 1971, it’s an old favorite of mine from a distant era. The song is about bands and the struggles they face. But I think it translates well to politics.

Lyrics (h/t to AZLyrics.com)

Climbing out of open windows
Crashing down from broken stairs
Keeping watch on smoking cinders
Falling over burning chairs
Tossed and crossed and screwed in transit
Broken , splintered, bruised and thrown
Badly shattered, gale force frighty
Rrushed across and shown alone
Speech reduced by poor relations
Strung from weeks of self abuse
Chopped up, churned out weeks of greazy
Spark plugs burned up, power’s fused

That imagery spells Trump failure and GOP collapse.

Hope your Monday — or whatever day — sparkles with magic that invigorates and moves you on to new heights and familiar joys.

Cheers

2

Wednesday’s Theme Music – A Short Reminder

Ashland, southern Oregon — Wednesday, May 27, 2026.

Wet, gray morning. Furnace is running to keep us warm. 49 F. 72 is the day’s potential high. That depends on when the rain moves on.

We’re not getting a lot of rain, mind. Just showers off and on. Still, the cooler temperatures, while not my preference, are better than hot, dry conditions. Saves our water, etc.

Papi isn’t pleased with the weather. He came in wet and released a plaintive, “Meow,” that’s quite unlike him. Dried him with a towel and bribed him with treats. Now he’s vigorously grooming.

Spent an hour on the phone with Mom yesterday. She called to talk to me about my health. She sounded so tired and struggled to put words together and finish thoughts.

My sister got the power of attorney done and signed an agreement with a realtor to sell Mom’s house. Then I spent an hour with my sister, texting back and forth as she addressed her relationship with one of her daughters. It’s a challenging world. Always has been, a shifting spectrum of needs, problems, and expectations. Memories and history and differences add more unique elements to finding understanding and developing relationships.

Heard from Trump that he’s in perfect health. Despite his struggles with speaking, walking, and staying awake he aced everything! Trump is a documented liar, so I don’t believe a word of it.

Same with Trump’s war and ceasefire with Iran. Epstein files. Mexico and the wall. Golfing. Trump chose golfing over his son’s wedding. Just as he chose other women over his wife — sorry, wives. Oh, but then, Trump must have realized how bad the optics were, golfing instead of attending his son’s wedding, and changed his plans.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Trump paid for sex with Stormy Daniels in 2006. Melania is his third wife. In addition to his sex with Stormy Daniels, Trump allegedly had a ten-month affair with another woman, Karen McDougal, starting in 2006. Trump is also in the Epstein files but it’s unknown to what degree; just as he reneged on other promises, he reneged on his promise to release the Epstein files.

Instead of releasing the Epstein files, Trump began Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! Under this program:

The Epstein ballroom was first supposed to cost $200 million, and would be paid for by private donations. It would then cost 300, no, $400 million. Now the White House asked Congress for one billion dollars for it.

No, I don’t trust a word he says.

Many other Americans also are losing trust in Trump. His disapproval ratings are reaching record levels.

Yet, Republicans just keep walking away from everything Trump does. That thought inspired The Neurons. As I shook my head, dismayed again, The James Gang with Joe Walsh on guitar and vocals, began playing “Walk Away” in the morning mental music stream.

Trump is trashing historic norms and trust in the government. Unlike the GOP, I just can’t walk away.

Hope you have a day memorable with good times, good friends, and good foods.

Cheers

3

Monday’s Theme Music

February 2, 2026, in Ashland. Colder today, as a cold front moved in last night. The sky was glassy clear and the moon boomed with bright light as temperatures fell into the high 20s. We’re recovering now, with temps up to 41 already under sunny conditions. Another dry day, we’re on our way to highs in the upper 50s to low 60s.

Reviewing the weather, much of North and South Carolina received more snow today than we’ve received all winter. We’re not a ridiculously snowy place in Ashland but it usually snows enough to paint the world white for a few days. If I was a conspiracy guy, I’d suggest that some evil overlords are testing a weather machine, aiming to see how the southern U.S. copes with winter conditions.

Speaking of evil overlords…

Trump’s shifted position on his aggressive immigration Minnesota policy. Daily Kos had a good summary, Why Trump is finally waving a white flag in Minnesota. Daily Kos points out, Alex Pretti is the reason for Trump’s shift.

ICE agents killed Alex Pretti in January in Minnesota during an ICE raid. Recorded by Minnesotans on their phones, the official narrative of another ‘domestic terrorist’ didn’t fit — Alex Pretti was young, white, male, an employed VA nurse, who arrived with a legal gun. Stacking this on top of the other narratives of death and violence, such as Nicole Good’s shooting death, Trump’s logic was suddenly toppling, taking his approval ratings with it.

That, as Daily Kos documented, is why the situation is changed in Minnesota.

Personally, I think it’s a victory. More critically, it reinforces the power of showing up, getting involved, and being witness, along with using phones to record what’s happening.

I expect Trump will launch another Minnesota surge in a different location. Trump’s softening stance is a politic move, not a change in attitude. He remains a bully, employing intimidation in attempts to dominate.

Another example of that tactic rose today, as Trump threatened to sue the Grammys over a Noah Trevor joke making fun of Trump.

“Noah said, incorrectly, about me, that Donald Trump and Bill Clinton spent time on Epstein Island. Wrong. I can’t speak for Bill, but I have never been to Epstein Island, nor anywhere close, and until tonight’s false and defamatory statement, have never been accused of being there, not even by the Fake News Media,” said Trump. “Noah, a total loser, better get his facts straight, and get them straight fast. It looks like I’ll be sending my lawyers to sue this poor, pathetic, talentless, dope of an M.C., and suing him for plenty$.”

That bully, Trump, isn’t changing. We the People must remain alert to respond and stand up for our rights and each other, again, again, and again.

Reading over my shoulder, The Neurons were stirred to bring up a 1971 John Lennon, “Power to the People”. This is a cover made by Tom Morello, Bruce Springsteen, Ike Reilly, Al Di Meola, Rise Against on January 30, 2026, in Minnesota.

Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people

[Chorus]
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on

[Verse 1]
Say we want a revolution
We better get it on right away
Well, get ya on your feet
Into the street

As Morello put it in the video, “We’re going to go out and kick ass in a peaceful way.”

Rock on into 2026 with peace and grace and the certainty that truth and justice will find its way forward again. Cheers

2

Twozdaz Theme Music

Cold and shiny Twozda Morning in October. This is 10/23/2025. 46 F in Ashland, the temperature will frolic into the low 70s with the sun’s herding. Fall’s grasp is as firm as ever, with leaves decomposing and dropping while others hang, shimmering in reds and golds.

Sis has moved Mom into her house because of Mom’s repeated falls and inability to care for herself. No one is there to help her at her house, etc. Sis meets with a real estate agent next Tuesday to pull the levers to sell Mom’s house. An estate sale is being established to sell Mom’s furniture and belongings. Not excited to return to this state, and you know what I mean. This is life. But I’m looking forward to seeing family and being in the area of my youth.

In one of Trump’s continuing rampages to show how much he hates the United States, he’s now having the physical building called the White House destroyed. As it was put in a comment on another site, I am volcanically pissed. Breathtaking arrogance. If anything proves that Trump has no sense of history and gives not a jot of shit about anything except himself, this is it. Destroying the house of We the People and replacing it with his own gaudy, cheap imitation of grandeur is disgusting and infuriating. Project 2025 is certainly well pleased and gleeful. Roberts Court is probably shrugging. They let him trample the Constitution with his overweight ego and obese body, why not allow this effrontery? Sure hope all those MAGA are happy too. Isn’t this how love for your nation is shown, by tearing down its heritage?

Approval for him falls. Disapproval for him rises. Strength to stand against him and his regime increases.

A Daily Kos post by Michael Taylor offers solid insights into the Trump Regime’s war against the United States.

Criminalising an idea: the dangerous fiction of “ANTIFA, the organisation”

Let’s talk about a magic trick. Not the kind with rabbits and hats, but the political kind, where a complex idea is made to vanish, only to be replaced by a simple, monstrous caricature. The latest magicians? Pam Bondi, U.S. Attorney General, and the broader Trump administration, who are attempting to pull off the dangerous illusion of criminalising ANTIFA.

The premise of their act is that ANTIFA is a unified, hierarchical terrorist organisation– a domestic version of ISIS – that can be neatly listed, proscribed, and its members prosecuted. This is a profound and likely deliberate misunderstanding. ANTIFA, short for “anti-fascist,” is not an organisation; it is a political belief and a movement, no more a single entity than “conservatism” or “environmentalism.”

Under cover of criminalizing a concept and calling it an organization, the Trump Regime can attempt to use all of the government’s military and police forces against United States citizens, weakly rationalizing it as part of their fight against ‘antifa’. As Taylor closes:

The real danger isn’t a black-clad protester breaking a window; it’s a government that seeks to break the foundational principle that in America, people are free to believe, and to protest, what they see fit.

Meanwhile, the Epstein Shutdown has moved into its third week, earning Trump’s third government shutdown in five years of ‘leadership’ as the third longest U.S. government shutdown in history.

Without too much surprise, Trump’s Gaza ceasefire is as successful as Trump University, Trump Steaks, various Trump casinos and hotels, and Trump Air. Trump is a magical enshittifier.

I have The Moody Blues performing “The Story in your Eyes” in the morning mental music stream. Between conversations with Papi as I explain we’ll be going away but his favorite house sitter will be here, and thoughts of Trump’s destruction, and, well, changes in life in general, Les Neurons responded with lines out of the song.

Listen to the tide slowly turning. Wash all our heartaches away. We’re part of the fire that is burning, and from the ashes we can build another day.

May grace and peace get up and going and come around to see how we’re doing. Coffee is making itself familiar to the various body functions. Time to rock it. Time to roll it. Until the next, cheers from Trump and his smirking BFF, Jeffrey Epstein.

1

Twozdaz Theme Music

Howdy, sports fans. It’s Twozda, September 9, 2025. 62 degrees F holds forth in Ashlandia. Marbled clouds headline the moment. Never fear: it’s going to move to 69 degrees F by the day’s end, although we may need to navigate more thunder and rain while we get there. Feels like autumn has got its dandruff up and is out to end summer’s hold on Ashland.

Yesterday early afternoon found us with a huge downpour. People rushed into the coffee shop bursting with news about how intense, sudden, and cold the rain was. Brief was added to its description as the rain ceased after ten relentless minutes.

Then, 2:30 AM. A sound is covering the house. My sleepy mind thought it was a giant fan. Asking, what fan is that, I roamed through the house and realized, that giant fan sound was rain hissing down with Biblical efforts. I returned to bed and sleep only to awaken a while later to my wife in the kitchen getting water.

A sharp, high squeal noise had awakened me. I asked my wife if she’d heard it. “It’s raining,” she said.

I listened. “It stopped.”

“No, it’s still going.”

Papi and I went out back to prove the rain was stopped. It was. Cool breezes swept by with friendly helloes. Moonlight bright enough to walk on broke out. Rain clouds were splitting up and racing away in different directions, leaving a starry dark gray feast for my eyes. “This is nice,” I said. Papi didn’t disagree.

After I was back in bed, a sound like a brassy chord being strong on an electric guitar awakened me. “What the hell was that?” The Neurons asked the dark room. Nobody was giving any answers about noises.

Dad remains hospitalized. Not much can be done about a fractured pelvis. He’s due to be moved to a rehab center today. Andy is also being moved to a rehab center to help him recover from his hip fracture. Sis is mum about her medical procedure and its results.

Gritting my teeth and swallowing my GRRRRR, I peruse the news. Trump is suing the WSJ and anyone attached to the story about his ‘alleged’ birthday card/notes to Epstein. I’m sure Trump is betting that the story will be withdrawn and apologies issues. Meanwhile, he donated the Bible his mother presented to him in his boyhood to a Bible Museum. The net responded with laughter and mocking about the Bible. Most doubt that Trump opened his Bible, read it, and went to church, except for publicity when it suited his needs.

More attacks have been carried out in several wars. None of the war reporting arrives with a sense that the fighting is going to end soon. The major aggressors, Russia and Israel, are well past reasonable lines about their intentions. All can see that Russia will not stop until it has Ukraine. Israel won’t stop until Hamas are all dead. Neither nation displays concern or empathy for the innocents they’re killing.

Economic news will take over today’s media top spots. 911,000 fewer jobs were created between April 2024 and March 2025, BLS says. US job growth through March was significantly weaker than previously thought. Economists and analysts are telling us that it means the jobs markets was even worse than realized. A large downward revision was expected, with many citing sampling errors resulting from declining survey responses, weaker-than-inferred job creation at new firms, and adjustments related to asylum-seekers and other undocumented workers. The pandemic’s impact on the global labor market and residual adjustments were also blamed. Trump’s WH thinks that it proves Trump was right, the Biden economy was a disaster, and the BLS reporting is broken. That’s certainly puzzling, isn’t it: the Trump Regime is depending on a system they claim is broken to prove they’re right. Classic MAGAt non-thinking.

All this has culminated in The Neurons’ song choice for my morning mental music stream. It stormed in Ashland, with more storms coming. Trump is riding a storm of criticism about Jeffrey Epstein. We the People are riding through the storm of data about what’s going on with the economy. Hence, The Neurons summoned The Doors and “Riders on the Storm”.

Coffee has dropped in for an extended visit. May grace and peace visit and stay with us all for a while. Here we go again. Cheers

3

Twosda’s Theme Music

This is Twosda, May 20, 2025. Weather here is more of the same. 53 F now, with moderate to light clouds rolling through, going up to 70 F today. No rain expected, but it’s breezy. Sunshine has lifted us to 64 F. Papi is out there, asnooze is his favorite shelter, hidden from casual scrutiny but sufficiently exposed that he can enjoy the weather.

Mom’s tale from Pittsburgh is unsettling. Today she didn’t get out of bed. She told my sister she couldn’t walk due to her sciatica. Sis, being a physical therapist, provided Mom with exercises to alleviate the sciatica. Mom was doing them when sis left.

One, so glad that sister is there, that she’s strong and intelligent. She of the three sisters in the area has been doing the heavy lifting with Mom. She’s not the oldest or youngest child. And she bridles at many of the things she endured while she grew up. But she’s stood up again and again to take care of Mom. She’s also married to a man who is in construction. Thanks to him, things have been organized and accomplished fast. I’m so grateful to both.

Mom told sis today that Mom thinks she needs a wheelchair. My heart fell like a sinkhole when I read that text. Mom was pretty athletic and loved to dance, and loved her independence. It’s all eroding from her. Her house isn’t conducive to a wheelchair, either.

Fortunately, a little serendepity paid off. My BIL’s customer had just offered him an almost new wheelchair. As soon as Mom said that, sis texted her husband. Two hours later, Mom had a wheelchair. Mom declared it perfect.

All the fallen trees at Mom’s have been cut up, collected, piled up and offered to the world free of charge. People have been driving over and picking it up. Sis was behind that, too.

Here’s photos from Mom’s house in Pittsburgh, PA, May 19, 2025. Top set are after the wood has been cut and picked up. The windstorm was April 29, 2025.

Today’s song is Trump inspired. “Behind Blue Eyes” is a 1971 release by The Who. The Neurons brought it up as I read things that Trump said and did. I was thinking, “What is going on in that head of his?” I don’t think anyone knows. One example came via MSN and the Irish Star today.

Donald Trump dementia fears as ‘brain misfires’ in worrying Oval Office announcement

As Donald Trump and Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth announced that they were financing a $175 billion project to build a missile defense system, the U.S. President’s word choices sparked new dementia fears.

After announcing the plan to build a $175 billion ‘Golden Dome’ to press in the White House’s Oval Office on Thursday, Trump directed everyone to look at the portraits around his desk. He named the first two Presidents no problem, but then began to stutter when he got to Monroe.

After announcing the plan to build a $175 billion ‘Golden Dome’ to press in the White House’s Oval Office on Thursday, Trump directed everyone to look at the portraits around his desk. He named the first two Presidents no problem, but then began to stutter when he got to Monroe.

This is just one recent example from what happened in public. What’s going on in private?

I think it’s a mess privately. As the Trump Regime loves to project, and their early reaction to news of President Biden’s cancer was to quickly propose, “Was there a coverup,” I think there’s a big coverup going on in the Trump White House.

Here’s the opening verse and first chorus.

[Verse 1]
No one knows what it’s like
To be the bad man, to be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
No one knows what it’s like
To be hated, to be fated
To telling only lies

[Chorus]
But my dreams, they aren’t as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance that’s never free

h/t to Genius.com

These lyrics seem to perfectly capture Trump: he seems fated to telling only lies.

Well, writing is done, coffee is done, lunch is over. Time to change clothes and get out there and do something in the yard. Don’t yet know what. Have a satisfying Twosda. Cheers

1

Thirstda’s Theme Music

Disappointment is heavy in Ashlandia. A big storm was forecasted for us. It perversely excited us but then did not arrive. Perversely, people are disappointed. At least three posts on NextDoor and Facebook have people expressing their disapppointment that the storm did not come.

Well, it did a little. “I heard a thunk,” my wife says.

“Was that the rock on the front porch?” I noticed it when I came home.

She nodded. “Yes, I think the wind blew the top two rocks off the cairn. At least, I heard the thunk and locked out and saw the rocks and nothing else.”

Very circumstantial evidence. “I’ll put them back.” I must because she can’t balance them on the cairn. We don’t know why.

I’m disappointed, but not over the storm. I’d planned to weed around our hydrangea. Put it on my to-do list and everything. But she weeded. I’m happy the job is done but displeased that I wasn’t the one to do it. There are many more weeding opportunities. That’s little consolation.

Today is Thirstda, March 27 2025. Spring continues dancing with our expectations. We started out with a dispiriting cloud display. The sky was tiled dark and white. Showers fell. Now, it’s sunny and in the upper 50s F. More rain is expected. So is more sun. And warmer temperatures, along with colder temperatures.

Papi the ginger blade, commonly referenced as Butter Butt, is exhausted. Days of sunshine emboldened him to dash around like a one-year old. Now he’s sleeping like a kitten. Took up his favorite malabar chair seat in mid-morning, washed, and tucked the eyes shut.

He used the litter box for a bowel movement today. That’s unusual for him. He’s enormously fastidious about it. His scratching around was the clue. When he pees in the box, he steps in and then out. No scratching.

I told my wife about it. “This is literally the third time he’s used the litter box like that since Tucker passed,” I noted. “I think it’s because it was raining. He didn’t want to go in the rain and get his fur wet.”

The Neurons have lined up “Liar” by Three Dog Night in the morning mental music stream. Yes, this is a Trusk Regime production. Jonah Goldberg caught them in a security breach. He told them so. They spun it like he was a Democrat and a liar. Also pretended that it was nothing. No classified to see here, no sir. Then The Atlantic posted the transcripts. Hah. The leak was one thing; the attempted cover up is a mess. So, “Liar” it is.

Originally an Argent song — and you can hear their musical fingerprints all over it — Three Dog Night released their cover of “Liar” in 1971 and became another top twenty offering for the group in several nations.

Coffee has perked me up again. (Get it? Sure. You’re not slow.) Time to rock and roll. Cheers

0

Wenzda’s Theme Music

Someone must’ve pressed the ‘misty’ button on today’s weather menu. 44 F, cloudy, drizzly, misty, a little sunny, the high will jump to 51, 52 F. Not a bad day, just not particularly inspiring or uplifting, here in Ashlandia.

Fortunately, I experienced uplifting, energizing dreams. Returning from them to here was a rough landing. There, I was supremely happy, eager for the day, embracing the future. Here…everything is knotted with uncertainty, fused with irritation and frustration. I keep telling myself that this too must pass. It presently feels like empty rhetoric.

Papi the ginger blade, aka Butter Butt, is doing fab, busying himself around us, scampering about with tail up, sometimes punctuating the moment with his high pitched meep. That sound gifted him his original name of Meep. My SO ordered a change. Didn’t think Meep conveyed enough gravitas. Now she calls him Butter Butt. Like, that has gravitas?

Today’s song is a product of the news. Joey Molland of Badfinger has joined the gig in the sky. Badfinger was an early rock power guitar group. The Beatles fostered them and the group lent their talents to my teenage years. With Molland’s transition, the original group’s lineage has ended. For their part, The Neurons inserted “Baby Blue” from 1972 into the morning mental music stream. The song was written about a woman who showed up and toured with them for a while, Armstrong. It wasn’t a relationship meant to last, though. I went with a recording that’s a little muddy but it shows the most successful lineup during the glory period when they were young, before things began going to crap for them.

Coffee has made another successful landing in my gullet. Let’s rock and roll. Cheers

2

Twosda’s Wandering Thoughts

Happy T-Rex Day! No, this isn’t about the band, who had many hits, including “Get It On” in 1971.

No, we’re celebrating the therapod in our house! Why not? Long gone — the species lived 60 to 72 million years ago — the mighty T. Rex is not forgotten. To celebrate the bipedal carnivore and its big head, we hold our arms up by our chest to mimic the creature’s small forelimbs. Then we walk around the house roaring, imitating what we’ve seen T. Rex do in movies. I find it both fun and theraputic.

Come on, get it on. Cheers

0

Sunda’s Theme Music

Sunda, February 2, 2025, arrived in Ashlandia as inviting as a gray, wet mop. Sunshine feels like an alien life form. 35 F, the thermometer says the air temp is, and ‘they’ tell me that the temperature will punch up to 36 F. Light snow is falling.

Kind of light snow is falling. Sometimes, it’s rain, sometimes it’s sleet. A position can’t be staked and claimed for the local weather. Reactions on NextDoor about the weather are frequently amusing about this. “The forecast is for rain. Or snow! Maybe we’ll get zero inches, maybe we’ll get 88! Who knows?!!!” I can imagine someone looking a little wild-eyed and giggling to themselves typing this up. But she has aptly captured the general flow of thoughts.

Part of all this is elevation. Ashland is built on a series of southern mountain slopes. Weather changes are experienced as you slipslide up and down. Our house resides around 2100 feet. Looking up the street, where elevation increases a few hundred more, snow is visible lining roofs.

A winter storm warning is out for our area, so ‘they’ think it’s gonna be something. The rest of us are giving the forecast a jaundiced ‘we’ll see’ gaze. It is good soup weather. Soup, with hot buttered bread, as been conditioned into me. Mom had a practice of dishing out soup on days like this. Campbell’s had advertising campaigns predicated on the need. My wife is also out of that school. Her eyes and expression gain a little light as she states the idea, “This looks like a good soup day.” Best of all on a day like this, with trouble in the news — I haven’t looked but this is now the Trump era, and that’s all there is since he’s been installed as POTUS — would be a big bowl of Mom’s chili. She had an awesome recipe, and I could eat that stuff eight days a week.

Today’s theme music emerges from more conversations with my wife. A lifelong feminist who took on the ideology that everyone is born with equal rights regardless of anything else at an early age, the Trump’s administration to break the world and shove us back into the 1800s has her GRRRRRRR cranked up to eleven. The match point from the convos is that Trump respects nothing. We suspect that he doesn’t even have much self-respect; although he blusters about how great it is, his statements ring with a desperate need to be believed. That’s why he lieks his rallies, where the gullibles line up to worship him as he needs.

The other portion of these talks is that Elon Musk doesn’t respect the Trumpet at all. Being genuinely more intelligent, craven, and cruel, Musk is eagerly taking advantage of Trump to plunder the United States, with eyes on plundering the world. He has no respect for anyone but himself.

All these talking about respect invited The Neurons to pulled up a song from my teen years and dropped it into the moring mental music stream. “Respect Yourself” begins with the lyrics, “If you disrespect everbody that you run into, how in the world do you think anybody’s gonna respect you?” Trump thinks he can get respect by bullying everyone; he’s convinced himself that’s how it works, and his sycophants feed him a steady diet of ‘you got that right, sir’, so he never hears — or learns — otherwise. So this 1971 tune by The Staple Singers is dedicated to Trump and the Grand Ol’ Trump Party as they go about disrespected all others. No one is gonna give you respect in return.

Beyond the sentiments of the song, I love the funkiness dropped by the electric piano and bass. What a sweet sound. With its beat and vocals, it’s an excellent song to sing along with as you dance around the house. Feel free to turn it up loud.

Coffee has suggested that I have a cup. I didn’t want to be rude, so I agreed. And off we go, into the gray and white yonder. Look, it’s raining again. Or is that snow?

Cheers

0

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