Tag: 1977

Fridaz Theme Music

Frida finds our Ashland home peaceful. Alexa says it’s 55 F outside, but my systems put it at 38. Other locations report it’s 48. The invisible fog has lifted, leaving sunbeams a clear path to spread warmth and light through the blue sky.

Today is January 16, 2026. 60 is our projected high, kicking off a week of days in the low to mid 60s. We’ll see if that holds, given weather’s changing ways.

Whatever the temperature, Papi is in good spirits. Patio sunshine glows off his white and orange as he grooms after breakfast.

After a night of a long series of dreams, I’m in a very good mood. One had me with Jerry Seinfeld and George Constanza going to a small, intimate open-air comedy festival. I was with Jerry, who was driving, while George followed in his own car. Although an interesting time, I lost my sunglasses. I kept thinking I’d lost them in the water but consoled myself, it’s only a dream.

I also feel very good with where my health is — today. I’ve kept my lost weight off and still run and exercise. My feet, legs, and ankles stay almost pain-free, with twinges sometimes remarking on what I’m doing. Aided by supplements, my abdominal discomfort and bloating have diminished. I remain careful about what I eat and always give myself time to digest before thinking about eating something else.

While I continue to percolate with dream details, feeling healthy and peaceful, I’ve avoided looking at the news. Trump has a habit of making a good day bad, and a bad day — worse. I’ll eventually scan headlines, hoping that ICE violence isn’t climbing, the U.S. hasn’t attacked another nation, or measles aren’t spreading.

Looking at Trump statements over the last several years, remarks made by him counter history or demonstrate a weak grasp the government. I calculated that Trump has been alive for about 32% of the United States’ age as a nation. You’d think he would’ve picked up that information by now. He is college educated.

Now, for no particular reason at all, The Neurons are playing “The Passenger” in the morning mental music stream. Iggy Pop wrote, performed, and released it in 1977. As it plays, I think, here we go, off on another daily journey.

Hope your journey today is happy and carefree, graced with peace and hope. Cheers

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Thirstdaz Theme Music

Thirstda, January 8, 2026. Eight days into a new year, and I remain reflecting about weather patterns and national and international politics.

Looking at the weather, the advisory which has been shadowing our hours for several days warned, snow is coming.

Snow didn’t quite come to Ashland. It dusted surrounding mountains and firs like confectionery sugar. Down on the valley, chilly wet ground is visible. Temperatures roam from 35 F to 46 F.

The last temp, 46, comes from Southern Oregon University’s observations, and has struck me as accurate. That range, 35 to 46, highlights the impact of mountains and valleys. We’re in a valley’s neck, and SOU’s observations take place in a field down closer to the valley floor. So we see, it’s colder in the mountains than at lower elevations, re-affirmation of long-known temperature dynamics.

Now they’re telling us that the weather is going to warm. Ten-day forecasts are serving up highs in the sixties. Like any season, we’ll wait for the end before it can be judged. So far, worries about having needed snow deposits to carry us through the summer keep nudging up.

Reflecting on national politics, concern is now going up about the latest shooting and Trump administration’s response to it. ICE agents in Minneapolis shoot and killed a woman. Following a standard script, Kristi Noem claimed the agents were defending themselves.

Early video evidence and civilian statements completely undermine Noem’s claims. Now the FBI has declared that nobody is allowed to see any collected evidence.

Until that point, a familiar pattern was being followed, with local, state, and FBI investigating together and cooperating. The FBI announcement, coming without warning and contrary to previous investigations, causes worry that transparency needed to reassure citizens of impartial and fair consideration of evidence has been jeopardized.

On the one hand, the FBI’s approach is an old tactic used by repressive governments in the past to cover up crimes and manipulate results. We the People have witnessed multiple times when that happened in the last twenty years. Think Walter Scott of South Carolina, George Floyd of Minneapolis, the Franklin Park ICE shooting, to name some prominent examples.

Cover-ups of law enforcement was a concern before 2026 began. The Minneapolis ICE killing only heightens the distrust many have of the Trump administration and ICE.

Watching the weather and studying the news pulled The Neurons into an unsurprising direction. Eating my breakfast found them filling the morning mental music stream with “Watching the Detectives” by Elvis Costello from 1977. What a sense of humor The Neurons sometimes reveal.

Well, I hope that 2026 finds a turning point soon and begins arcing toward the freedom, justice, and equality which most of us prefer. In the meantime, I’ll sip coffee, keep watching, and wish you all a rendezvous with peace and grace soon. Cheers

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Wenzdaz Theme Music

Today’s music was almost “Smoke on the Water”. After a day that peaked at 93 F, clouds swollen with thunder and lightning climbed over the mountains to fill our valley last night. At one point, smoke coiled out from the pass north of us and hustled down the street, congregating in the valley like a well-organized demonstration. After a recce, I came in and told my wife, “It sounds like the drum section of a drum and bugle corps is marching down the street.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand what that means.”

“It means there’s a lot of thunder out there. Sounds like drumming.”

“Oh. I got you.”

The smoke surrendered, though. I never did learn a source.

Today is Wenzda, August 27, 2025. 84 F, a hazy blue sky hosts lurking cumulo thingies. Gonna get to the mid 90s F again. Thunderstorms are on the menu, but they sometimes run out before their time here. We’ll see how it flows.

Papi the ginger master of all he surveys doesn’t appreciate thunderstorms. They’re loud and ominous. He goes into the master bath to outwait them. After their passing, he heads back out to his floofdom. A bit south of midnight, cat singing commences. I go out to see Papi chatting up a black and white tux. The tux is dismissive of Papi. I’ve seen this one before. They weren’t real concerned. I asked, “What’s your name?”

That suggested a song to The Neurons. “What’s Your Name”, a 1977 southern rocker by Lynyrd Skynyrd, was pushed into the morning mental music stream. I protested to Les Neurons that the song refers to a ‘little girl’ who is a groupie. This tux was not anyone’s groupie. Being as obstinate as granite, The Neurons dismissed this objection faster than the Roberts Court rules in favor of the Trump Regime.

I’m encouraged by arguments rising out of Iowa. Democrat Catelin Drey defeated a Republican by 10 points in a state legislative contest. Okay, good news, but it’s too early for me to celebrate its significance too much. Trump still rules MAGALand and can do no wrong in their estimate. Much of what he’s doing, declaring that he’s the president and can do whatever he wants, is gut-wrenching to hear. Checking polls, many GOPers are quite happy with his declaration, continuing to support and cheer him on.

Meanwhile, much of his activities reminds me of the U.S.S.R. under Joe Stalin. Stalin’s means of governing involved one party and a police state. Stalin established purges based on his declarations that those he purged were ‘enemies of the state’ and ethnic cleansing through deportations. Any of this beginning to ring any bells when thinking about Trump’s efforts to control the media, imprison enemies, send the national guard out as a police force, and ICE disappearing people off the streets?

MAGAs and the GOP will never recognize or acknowledge any of this for the most part. They’re firmly in the ‘means justifies the ends’ corner, even if that means disavowing all the principles, tenets, and checks and balances our founders established when the United States became a nation. What is also distressing is listening and watching while so much of the established media downplays events. It seems like they fear Trump’s retribution to the point that they’re making themselves more and more irrelevant.

Well, coffee has arrived in the system. I hope peace and grace gang up and reward you with a beautiful day. Time to go write like crazy, at least one. More. Time. Cheers

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Twosdaz Theme Music

Greetings from Yachats (which is pronounced just as it appears, with a silent ‘c’: ya-hots — which isn’t how it appears), where a relaxed but busy Pacific studies the land and plots their moves under a light marine layer. Presently 56 F, it’s gonna be 66 F and sunny.

I have the dining room to myself so I’m typing away while I can. Everyone else is asleep, save my wife, who is down in our room doing her dressing and hair thing. That takes some time. Three couples are sharing a huge place. I think two more couples could stay here and barely be noticed. But while the house is big, with three floors, bordering on fancy and luxurious, it needs some updating and repair routines. That big fancy stainless steel frig doesn’t deploy ice and water as it should. The heating controls are hit and miss. The oven and stove top are ancient and wonky. We have an ensuite arrangement but the tub can’t hold water. Then there’s the dealio of utensils and cookware; there’s barely enough to prep and serve one meal. Like, WTF? Serious feedback is being compiled. It is all first-world whining, of course.

Read, of course, about Trump’s continuing overreach, sending in more troops to DC as he and the GOP make like strongarm dictators. I think the jackasses are overreaching, myself. I’m sure Trump hopes to cut off the voting apparatus so he can ignore the midterms, but we the economy trashing, the Epstein Files hanging over his head, his increasing grift and lawlessness, that ridiculous dog and pony show with Putin, his whining to the Nobel committee, and his dictator moves, I think the majority of U.S. citizens are already ready to cancel the season on this mango clown.

Haven’t heard much about Trump and Epstein today but haven’t been deep into the news. I can’t believe that Trump has already forgotten his BFC (best fucking criminal). I’ll post a photo to remind everyone.

Today’s music comes from vintage shopping. My wife loves going into used good places. St. Vincent’s, consignment store, Goodwills, etc. She can cruise those aisles, eyeing those things all day. I’m ready to depart the door in seven point five seconds. Anyway, as I walked around, trying to be patient in one of those places, up comes the Marshall Tucker Band with “Heard It In A Love Song” from 1977. The Neurons excitedly shouted, “We know this song!” So did everyone else in the store. Amazing how many folks were humming along or softly singing that chorus. The Neurons were so taken with the display that they kept the tune playing in my head for many more hours, and refreshed it in the morning mental music stream. Recognizing the situation, I know the only way to get The Neurons to release it from their grubby little hold is to put it out to the world and infect others. Once I, the carrier, do that, then the song leaves my head. I don’t know why; that’s just how it works.

Coffee is applying its black magic to my bod. Time to drift out toward the ocean. May peace and grace find you today and on all days. Cheers

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Fridaz Theme Music

Lawdy, it was the skunkpocalypse last night. I don’t know what was going on but skunk stink bowled through the house like a Budweiser King Pin tournament at 4 AM. After shutting the only windows open and activating the air filter, I consulted an oracle. “Is this a bad omen for August?” I asked. “I can’t work in these conditions,” the oracle answered, tears streaming down their cheeks. I took that as a yes. At the least, it seems like a ‘maybe’.

Yeah, that’s how Frida, August 1, 2025 rolled in on us. But could’ve been worse, judging from all that goes on in the world. Especially in the era of MAGALand. I mean, I could have been shot and killed from police exercising a no-knock warrant at the wrong address. ICE could’ve pounced on me when I opened the door for fresh air and stolen my ID or disappeared me. Earthquakes, wildfires, tsunamis, flash-flooding, and tornados are all real threats at this time. So a heavy skunk attack is mild.

Today, it’s 72 F. Gonna get to 86 F. Thunder boomers thrashed the area for several hours. We even had a little wetletting from the sky, just enough to call it a sprinkle. No reports of rampant lightning strikes, knock wood. Porcupine Fire to the southeast is new but just an acre. A helicopter is doing bucket work on it.

With First Frida, we have the downtown Art Walk to entertain us and the First Frida Bike Ride. On a friend’s recommendation, we’re going to see a play, Disaster! It’s a comedy.

News reading drove The Neurons to invite Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers into the morning mental music stream. “Breakdown” from 1977 is looping through. Why not breakdown? Reading about the many aspects of U.S. life slowly breaking down is tres depressing. The Trump Regime is a seriously backward lot. Like, over under the Fox newsguy’s guidance, the Defense Department personnel have been instructed not to work with any think tanks. While it doesn’t make sense from a historic and intelligent point of view, it’s tots inline with the TACO Regime: they’re against thinking.

Under Trump, all signs point to not thinking as much as possible. Fer instance, don’t think about our history of slavery and civil rights. Don’t think about sexism and racism. Don’t think about climate change and increasing extreme weather disasters. Don’t think about due process, the Constitution, checks and balances, and historic precedence. Don’t think about Trump’s campaign promises and how he’s not delivered. Don’t think ’bout education and morality. Most def do not think about Epstein and Trump, and their secrets.

But it’s only the title, “Breakdown”, which works. The song itself, about a souring relationship, doesn’t apply. Oh, wait; I guess that can apply to Trump and his voters. Seem of them might be souring, according to polls. Really, too early. Takes a while for it all to gel and hit home.

Well, I can’t just sit here typing and reading and writing all day while drinking coffee. Things Must Be Done. Like, the car Must Be Put Into The Shop, because it’s systems are saying, it is time again. More yardwork and housework Must Be Done. More vacation planning is in order. Can’t have a good vacation without intensive dialogues about what Will Be Done and What Is Needed.

I hope peace and grace bless you this day. Cheers

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Wenzda’s Wandering Thoughts

I saw a photograph of the blue spiral spotted in the night sky over Europe.

Turned out to be from a SpaceX rocket doing a fuel dump. Meanwhile, The Neurons in my head immediately turned to music, filling my mental music stream with a 1977 rock song by Journey called “Wheel in the Sky”.

Ooh, the wheel in the sky keeps on turnin’
I don’t know where I’ll be tomorrow
Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin’

h/t to Genius.com

For tomorrow.

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Sunda’s Theme Music

Mood: coldasfrickinice

Winter left frosty white prints all over the valley this morning. Well, on the house’s western side. Out back, it’s green and almost springlike in appearance, until you step out and the 21 degrees F slaps your face.

This is Sunda, January 19, 2025. A freezing fog advisory is in effect but the crazy frog has vacated my area. Sunshine is instead smooching everything, causing stretches of vapor clouds to rise in the air as the frost hastens its escape with the sun’s urging. Gonna be 50 today, ‘they’ say. Well, yesterday didn’t see us get over 39 on my home’s system or my friend’s system. But today seems like it has more of a chance, if the scene outside of blue sky and sunshine doesn’t change when I look away.

News: TikTok is going dark today under the government’s orders. Three hostages were released in Gaza. Kansas City is advancing to the AFC championship game and a lot of fans seem displeased about it. The Washington Commanders shocked the NFC’s number one side, the Detroit Lions, with an almost flawless game. Another new wildfire was reported in southern California while the Palisades fire still burns, although the latter is 52 percent contained. WaPo is circulating rumors that the new administration wants to replace DeJoy as the nation’s Postmaster General. Just an aside to that, Democrats and many Republicans revile DeJoy for what he’s done to the USPS but he’s kissed the ring and threw lots of cash at Trump, so I’m surprised to hear it being discussed.

One news story that disgusted me is about Jefferson Griffin. The Republican ran for a North Carolina Supreme Court seat in 2024 and lost. Now he’s asking the state to throw out 5500 military absentee ballots. His reasoning is that they don’t provide a photo ID with their vote. Their vote in the mail. The same voting method that this character used in 2019 and 2020, BTW. Oh, and he’s only challenging these absentee ballots in heavily-leaning counties. This feels like it transcends hypocrisy. Feels like it’s absolutely venal in its naked desperation and hunger to win at any cost. If others’ rights get screwed in the process, well, that’s just too bad for them.

Musically, The Neurons have an Al Stewart song playing in the morning mental music stream. “On the Border” was released in 1977 and has a folk-rock flavor, which is flock in my vocabulary. (Folk rock, right? Flock.) There is some jazz flavoring to it as well. I have no specific reason for its inhabitance of the morning mental music stream. I was just tidying up in the kitchen some after feeding the beasts when I realized it was in my head. But these lines may have been the inspiration:

Late last night the rain was knocking on my window
I moved across the darkened room and in the lampglow
I thought I saw down in the street the spirit of the century
Telling us that we’re all standing on the border

h/t to Genius.com

And that is because many of us simply feel like the nation’s spirit underwent a significant change when PINO-elect Trump won in 2024. Particulars include a substantial number of Americans showing vast disinterest or apathy by not voting and enough supporting a convicted felon to give the U.S. a new low as a first: a convict POTUS. As billionaires and the less wealthy line up to get on his good side and laws are proposed or passed to erase decades to centuries of change, it feel likes we’re standing on the border of becoming somthing other than the founders’ original intentions. I’ve said all of this before. Now it feels like I’m just cryin’ in my coffee.

Coffee and I have brokered another treaty for the day and I have commenced sipping out of the mug. Here’s the tune. Hope you enjoy the melody and have a terrific Sunda. Cheers

1

Winday’s Theme Music

Mood: windulated

It’s a windy beast out there this morning. Definitely a creature of autumn. Trees are shimmying and waving branches like they’re cheering on the University of Oregon Ducks football team.

It’s technically a Sattyday, or Saturday as they call it in some parts of the U.S., samedi in some other places. October 12, 2024. 64 with a lovely balminess riffing. Most of the sun action is obscured behind a cloudy gray monolith. Our air will tiptoe into the low to mid sevenities this day.

The cats are out there, trying to make out like they’re happy with the weather’s shape. But their dismayed whiskers reveal their truths, that this wind is disturbing their sleep, mussing their fur, and annoying them with its sounds. Whenever I go by a door or window and look out, they eye the house like they want back in. I will go back and see if that’s true. Both will probably come in. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) will stay but Papi will go back out. He has a short memory when weather is introduced as the topic.

You know who else doesn’t like the wind? DJ Trump dislikes the wind. The former President said some stuff about the wind at one of his rallies last week as part of his magic weave. This is lifted from a Huffpost article shared on Yahoo:

“The wind, the wind, it sounds so wonderful. The wind, the wind, the wind is, the wind is bullshit, I’ll tell you,” he said.

The crowed roared.

“It’s horrible, so expensive. Just too expensive. It doesn’t work. All of that to do y’know one tenth of one percent, I mean the whole thing is crazy,” he said.

Trump complained that wind power means people can’t watch television on days with no breeze.

He is right; the whole thing is crazy.

Speaking of wind, it’s a mess down in Florida after Hurricane Milton finished with them. Millions without power. Massive flooding. Sixteen dead, but people left homeless. Gas stations lack gas and alligators are swimming freely as a threat. President Biden has asked Congress to return to pass more funding for FEMA. Let’s see how the GOP reacts.

Moving on.

I have a friend with a fruitful fig tree, and she’s generous with its produce. After receiving pint after pint after pint of fresh, ripe figs, my wife baked a fig cake with a mix of almond and white flour. Excellent with coffee. I theorize it’d go well warm with a scope of vanilla bean ice cream as a dessert. But I’m having it this morning, cold with my coffee. Still fine riding on the taste buds.

All this wind thinking lends itself to songs about wind. I ended up with Kansas singing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark blown away). The Neurons agreed with the choice (although they did campaign for “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger and The Scorpions’ windy offering, “Wind of Change”. So here is “Dust in the Wind”, the 1977 progressive rock offering.

Stay strong, be positive, and vote blue in 2024. Rock on with your day. I’ve been rocking mine with coffee. Here’s the music. Cheers

Update: both cats came in and stayed.

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Moontalized

And just like that, summer struck back. A friend wrote in an email about meeting up for a beer, “Is it PC to refer to this pleasant time of year as ‘Indian Summer?’ I sure hope so.”

Yep, autumn and autmer and sumumn have all been displaced for summer, if we use the weather as a ruler. It’s September 24, 2024 on the calendar. Here in Ashlandia, that should translate to autumn, or ‘fall’ as many locals call it. But with the low only dipping into the middle sixties last night and an expected high of 95 F, this Tuesday has summer scrawled all over it. Add in a deep blue sky tinged with hazy edges, and it feels like June has fallen on us once again.

There’s all manner of news spreading across the wires today. Good stuff like new 2024 election trends and Trump’s claim that if he loses this time, he’s done. WTF news about a blizzard in South Africa. Gold hit an all-time high, Texas is suing the Biden Administration, and Hurricane John is a cat 3 striking Mexico.

Oh, and Earth is closer to getting that ‘second moon’ we’ve always hoped for, though it’ll be just a temporary addition. Call it a trial run. We’ll need to be careful in how the new moon is introduced and ensure that it gets along with the old Moon. It’s used to being the only moon, so there’s some trepidation that the new and old moon will go after each other.

I was outside in the backyard at 3 AM (yes, it was a cat thing) when I was overtaken by the stunningly clear sky and brilliant, bold moonshine. I stood out there alone for a while, sucking in the fresh air and stargazing. That probably contributed to The Neurons posting a Thin Lizzy song, “Dancing in the Moonlight (It’s Caught Me in Its Spotlight)” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark two-step). The song came out in ’77 but it doesn’t get much radio play in the U.S. these days.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote blue in 2024. I have reached the bottom of my coffee cup, so I am facing a personal sad time. Here’s the music! Cheers

2

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sumumnsatting

With change of season almost on us and the world’s relationship to the sun shifting, the sunbeams jumped right into my bed through the room’s sliding glass door, illuminating me and my faithful buddy, Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah). Time to get up, I think I said, and he replied, Time to eat.

Sumumn still holds on, dropping cool nights on us, like 50 F last night, but taking us to pleasantly warm temperatures, like 82 F today. A finely consistent coat of gilded sunshine holds the days while nights are wrapped up in clear, starry skies. This is Saturday, September 21, 2024.

After reading some of Trump’s latest stuff, I read about Danica Patrick’s declarations about being between a Republican and an Independent. Danica Patrick is a retired race driver who is always down on Vice President Harris. She’s also Aaron Rodger’s former girlfriend. Patrick commented, “I think our country should be run by someone that knows business and has integrity.”

Well, as true experts will clarify for you, running the nation as a business is not realistic; a nation and a business have different goals, with a nation being concerned about its people welfare and security, and the multitude of issues and needs which fall into those wide buckets. A business is focused on making a profit. Those are contrary end-goals.

Patrick doesn’t mention that she’s voting for D.J. Trump. I can’t believe that she would if she’s realistically assessing Trump’s business acumen. After that, discussions about Trump’s integrity can open. Documented as being a consistent liar, he’s also demonstrated that he’s out of touch with the nation’s history and needs, flipflops on his positions based on what he believes voters want to hear (see abortion and Project 2025), and if you believe the lawsuits and commentary from New Yorkers, he regularly stiffs contractors. Trump’s business bankruptcies are also well-chronicled.

Anyway, out of that, Hall & Oates began playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark trumped) as Der Neurons called up “You’re Out of Touch” from 1977. Hall & Oates were a musical duo whose sound was stamped all over the popular music scene. Living in the barracks in the Philippines at the time, I’d hear this song being played in others’ rooms, and regularly hear it at the Airman’s Club. It’s encrusted in my psyche.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote blue in 2024. Coffee is being swallowed in fine gulps. Here’s the music. Cheers

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