Crooks & Liars offer a post that shows PINO-elect Trump’s approval ratings are underwater. Conventional wisdom will suggest that’s not good news for him.
“A NPR/PBS News/Marist College poll released Wednesday shows that just 44% of Americans view Trump favorably, while 49% view him unfavorably. That’s nearly identical to the 45% approval rating Trump has in Civiqs’ tracking poll.“
Sorry, but I shrug. After that last election, I just don’t trust polls any longer. But I did enjoy reading — sorry, can’t help myself — “Pete Hegseth, Trump’s pick to lead the Department of Defense, has just a 19% approval rating in the NPR/PBS News/Marist College survey. And the survey was conducted before Hegseth’s confirmation hearing, when Democratic senators laid bare the nominee’s abhorrent behavior of alleged sexual assault, womanizing, on-the-job drinking, and misogynistic remarks.”
It’s thought-provoking information, even if I’m no longer certain where polls fit.
Today is Thursday, December 26, 2024. Five more days to the year. A year stamped with historic and personal significance. Wonder how 2025 will compare at this time next year.
Gray. Rainy. Chilly. Call it 44 F. Light rain. This is winter in Ashlandia. Snow hugs things above three or four thousand feet, looks like at a glance. Down here, we’re stuck in the gray. Sunshine muted through gray clouds from mountain to mountain to mountain. Gray clouds as far as I can see, looking down into the valley. And rain.
Yes, I’m complaining.
The cats are not, however. After a night of howling wind and incessant rain, Papi dragged in his wet Butter Butt and found a warm space to sleep off the day. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) had already set the example, staying in, finding a comfy zone, nodding into slumber.
Late post as I spent the morning writing. One of those days when the muses arrived early. The house was quiet and the coffee was hot, so. Seated myself at the laptop and added 2,500 words. Excited by the twist added. See if it stands revision, editing, and further thinking.
Today’s music selection was made by The Neurons after a friend’s comment yesterday. A decade older than moi, she’s not known for her colorful language. But there she was making a risque, off-color comment at the Christmas bash. As we reacted and laughed, she turned as red as Santa’s outfit. Net result: The Neurons have “Dirty Mind” by the brilliant Prince playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark filthy).
Well, deep breath. Dredge up some positive energy. Here we go again. Let’s start with the music. Cheers
Today is Thursday, December 19, 2024. A temptation to change Thursday to Throughsday almost conquered my fingers. ‘Throughsday’ because the week is almost finished. I didn’t change it, as I’m disinclined toward misinformation and confusing people.
In other morning news, a crowd of zombies went through our town. Ha, ha, just kidding. It wasn’t a crowd. Just a couple.
Our weather today looks as if someone delivered elements of fog, clouds, sunshine, and rain. All were tossed together in a big blue bowl. Now they’re up there, waiting to be mixed and blended.
Just after observing and writing all of that, Papi the ginger blade floof, returned with a scouting report. He didn’t need to say anything. Fog had shut down the sunshine, clouds, and blue skies. 46 F out there, it ‘feels like 38’, with a high of 57 dangling over us.
I met with my beer buddies last night. Two new members joined us. She is a retired teacher and physician’s assistant. He is a retired electrical engineer. They have a daughter who works for NASA, and he was a big science fiction fan when he was a kid. Others told him that I sometimes write science fiction. He shifted over to sit by me later in the night and discuss the genre. Lot of fun remembering the novels we had in common which influenced us.
Today’s theme music arrives on the shoulders of a conversation I had with several women last night. They expressed deep disappointment and frustration that more women didn’t turn out to vote in the 2024 election. I didn’t have any insights into that and they couldn’t cite any stats. Young me from several different groups were the dissappointing difference to me. I read interviews with and stories about young black men, for example, who thought Trump would be better for the economy. That still makes me shake my head.
Anyway, after returning home with that conversation in mind, “American Woman” by the Guess Who from 1970 rose into the morning mental music stream (Trademark peeling) today. I always thought the song was about the United States, represented by a woman, seducing countries to be like the United States. The singer was resisting because the United States was a war machine filled with ghettos. The ‘colored lights’ referred to in the song was Hollywood glamor. Remember, the Vietnam War was underway and protests were taking place in the U.S. In light of that backdrop, my interpretation made sense to me. But different interviews with the Guess Who band members painted a different story. The songwriter and vocalist, Burton Cummings, said it was just a comparison of women from the U.S. and Canada.
“What was on my mind was that girls in the States seemed to get older quicker than our girls and that made them, well, dangerous. When I said ‘American woman, stay away from me,’ I really meant ‘Canadian woman, I prefer you.’ It was all a happy accident.”
I became fourteen around the time of the song’s release. It’s uptempo beat, rich bass, unique riffs, lead guitar, lyrics, and vocals all worked for me. Cummings sang it with an angry, contemptuous sneer in my opinion. That spoke to my own burgeoning contempt for how our world and society works. Ah, to be young and idealistic.
Coffee and I have negotiated arrangements and I’m taking advantage of that to warm my throat. Time to light the candle on another day. Here’s the music. Cheers
Looks like we a bit’o Procol Harum with “Whiter Shade of Pale” taking over the autner sky. 36 F. Fog is reported. High of 51 F prophecized. Seems doable, as we hit 52 F yesterday. Do still have a stagnant air advisory camping on us. That gives us a broad range of air quality around town. Green and acceptable at lower elevations but yellow and a risk to people with respiratory issues as you go higher.
I admit to not reading the news yet today. I’ve been dealing with emails and texts from friends and families instead. Most of those fell under quake concerns or holiday plans. Sofar as the quake, we good here in Ashlandia. I did a brief scan for damage reports and saw nothing, knock on wood.
The cats are enjoying the milder weather. Both head out in search of early sun and hang around the backyard as birds visit. Good seeing them out there lounging, washing, and birding. These two are not mighty hunters. At least, they’ve never rewarded us with a trophy. They prefer kibble and wet food, and live and let live cause the alternative is too taxing.
My Neurons have a Boston song out of 1978 in my morning mental music stream (Trademark fluttering). “Don’t Look Back” was a dream admonishment. It was natural that the song filled my stream as I went through the dream review. 2024 was a meh year for me. Health issues, frustrations, and the elections results all subtracted from whatever advances I made. I won’t bore with details. Dream advice came like something out of Field of Dreams, “Don’t look back.” The woke gist concluded, created a vision and move forward. And while it sounds like it may have come out of left field, it was the culmination of several days of ruminating. I take it as solid advice: stop looking back. Move forward.
Part of the ruminations on the elections front came from a NYT piece about how Trump won. Their strategist went after the deeply undecided, not paying attention voters residing in streaming land. In my paraphrasing of what I read, while the Dems went traditional with big television buys, the GOP realized that there were large masses of folks on streaming platforms who wouldn’t see the TV ads. They, especially the young, became their target.
Looking ahead, I thought, that was clever. We — the Dems, Progressives, and Liberals — should embrace that as a counter approach to what Trump’s administration is plotting. Put it onto the streaming platforms about their plans. Be specific, repetitive, and detailed about what it means to the economy, inflation, and tax revenues if the mass deportations are allowed. Share personal anecdotes of how people are affected. Get graphic and real about what happens if Headstart and the Dept of Education are killed. Be real and give them the pointed end of climate change facts and its impact on health, safety, and the economy.
Teach them some real history. IMO, teaching to the test, the education system has been weak inculcating critical thinking among students. We need to close that gap. We need to that Republicans aren’t good for the economy. That tariffs will not save them money. Feed them information in the way that it was done via Schoolhouse Rock! style done in the latter half of the last century. As the Republicans said about President Obama’s agenda, “Obstruct, obstruct, obstruct.” We must do the same, but we also need to shift us from leaning red as a nation to deep blue.
So, I’m focusing my efforts on looking forward and moving forward. I’ll limit looking back in regret or anger, and shift to visualizing success. Hope you can do the same.
Coffee and I have done our morning meet. Time to rock on. Here’s the music.
It’s an autner morning with winter impression holding a slight edge. A freezing cold night was had with temperatures lowering to 18 F around my place. I know that’s not so cold in many places; I’ve lived in a few of them. But that’s chill for us.
Since dawn, the sun put the hammer to the temps. We’re into the low thirties now. The splash dab white crystals decorating the greenery is giving way as the sun’s fingers stroke the land into warmth. A high of 56 F is contemplated, with clouds, blue skies, and sunshine.
This is Sa’day, November 30, 2024, the last day of the year’s eleventh month. Just one more for the historic records and we’ll put 2024 to bed.
Keeping Papi the ginger blade in and safe from icy temperatures was a big challenge for us. He gave me his patented cheetah stare whenever I told him no.
Note: this is not Papi. Papi looks nothing like this, except for that staring, judging expression.
But we were successful without too much floofma. Now he is up and up, patrolling and sniffing to see who floofpassed on his realm while he was suffering the indignation of being kept warm and safe.
Been thinking about the Trump presidency and how it’s going down. He and his teams have not signed the transition docs. Therefore, no transition can begin. But, he’ll be sworn in on 1/20/25, won’t he? And then he’ll be POTUS. And then he’ll say, “Fuck those documents. I don’t need to sign shit. I’m the president.” SCOTUS has already established that these things he does as POTUS aren’t illegal, so… I’m sure the Senate will go into a legislative tantrum but the reality is, what will they do? Are the oaths really needed? Not in Trump’s newly minted prezzy immunity. Prezmunity.
Yes, feeling cynical this morning. But that’s the battle and potential outcome I see brewing. Of course, I’m crap at these predictions so I wouldn’t put any money on it.
Hmm…is Vegas laying odds on it? That would seem appropriate. Electing a proven con, liar, incompetent wanna-be dictator and fascist is a gamble…
Oh, wait. I see that he has signed some of the docs now. Sorry, been avoiding the news cycle. That’ll teach me.
So last night, I bit into a Kind drizzle bar. Off came part of one molar. Had to laugh. Just fits in so well with this year’s progression of events. My wife has been claiming that I’m held together by bubblegum and tape. Looks like it’s all coming apart.
I originally had songs about ice or white in the morning mental music stream (Trademark frozen). Ya know, things like “Cold as Ice” and “Ice Ice Baby”. “White Wedding” and “Nights in White Satin”. “Whiter Shade of Pale”. But The Neurons used their veto-override and inserted “Take My Breath Away”. The song was a creation for the Top Gun movie a zillion and two years ago. Berlin, an American new wave musical group, performed it for the movie and achieved a respectable hit for it.
I asked The Neurons, why this? They smugly deigned to voice an answer. But it’s in the stream, so I’m forced to share it to get it out. Kind of a tedious song to me. I mean, I admire the singer’s talents and the band’s skills, and respect the songwriters. Just not my cuppa. I’m low on the romance scale, though, so don’t judge it by my impressions. Listen for yourself.
Try to be positive. I grok that’s an easy expression to state but hard to manifest at times. Do your best, right? I will, too. Aided by coffee, the positivity function is stirring anew. Here we go, another day in 2024. Here’s the music from 1986 to take you there. Cheers
It’s the day after Thanksgiving and all through the house, everyone is full, as full as a louse.
Yes, it’s November 29, 2024, Friday, and 2024’s penultimate month’s penultimate day. Sunshine filled the valley after dawn’s arrival. Fog has slouched in and the sunshine has fizzled. We’re sitting at 28 F. But there’s potential; fog is expected to thin and drop, and the temperature hopes to top 48.
Friendsgiving was a grand time. Excellent food, delicious desserts, and satisfying drinks. Herb always makes a mulled cider. Add in some rum, and it’s a warming drink that’ll loosen tongues and relax souls. My hoof held up well. First time out for in public with shoes on both feet since October. My friends persisted on gaining details about what’d happened to me and how I was doing, and I indulged them. The tale of the foot was shared four times. We groused and commiserated over the election results. Almost everyone I spoke with said they withdrew from news for several days. Other than that, we talked local politics, books, and entertainment. Time whizzed by on greased tracks.
I have “Day After Day” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark full). Although the 1971 Badfinger song is a ballad, I was musing about going about life day after day, and healing and improving day after day when The Neurons slipped the song into the MMMS. A Beatle named George Harrison helped produce the song and offers his guitarship on it, and I think that combo solidifies the Beatle inflections. Nonetheless, it was a slow-dance favorite during my late teen years. I even have convinced myself that this was the song playing when I danced with Barb H in tenth grade. This video doesn’t do full justice to the song, as it doesn’t show Harrison on slide guitare nor Leon Russell on piano.
Coffee and I have again embraced once again. Time to ride the wave of another day. Hope it’s a better one for you. Here’s the music. Cheers
A light grey bolt of cloth stretches over our valley. Winds whip trees into wild gesturing. Accumulated moisture glistens on everything. This is Thursday, November 21, 2024.
A bomclone continues its hold on us, closing roads outside of the valley with snow and fallen tres, but we’re okay in our neck. 44 F, light rain, but hey, it feels like 47 F and it’s gonna strike 48 before daylight fades.
Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) is okay staying in with that weather raging outside but Papi the ginger blade is trying to set a new record. He’s been in and out six times today. I think he’s been inspired by Robert Heinlein’s cat and is looking for the door into summer. As my wife lets Papi in, she asks him, “Are you hungry?” Like asking him, “Are you an orange boi?” Hell yeah, he’s hungry, Papi hollers back. He hasn’t eaten in like fourteen minutes, the last time he left the house.
A moment for mock applause. Gotta hand it to Trump, he’s being proactive. No sense waiting for folks to become part of his administration to get corrupt. He’s gonna start with corrupt individuals and see how corrupt he can be. Like he’s angry at the nation and the concept of freedom and democracy and the public welfare and is out to destroy it via a rich man tantrum. I mean, have you seen the names and records he’s trusting to do his bidding? Hope his voters shrivel with shame and sink into the ruin they’re making of this nation. Yeah, I’m not bitter, angry, or disgusted. History will judge them harshly.
Thinking of summer, The Neurons begin working up summer songs. They finally emerge in the morning mental music stream (Trademark watery) with Superchunk and “This Summer” from 2012. It’s a song I rarely hear except when I’m tuned to satellite FM in the car and on an indie-oriented station. And while it’s about summer as we travel a trough of stoutly autumn weather, the lyrics kind of play into it. To get a little political (moi?), one of the lines go, “We can’t forget what we never knew.” Perfect epitaph for Trump voters IMO.
Get positive and remember your values and dreams. Coffee has entered my systems and is doing its thang. Here’s the music. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 