Fridaz Theme Music

Welcome, welcome, welcome. It’s First Frida, January 2, 2026, a day traditionally celebrated with food, drinks, and jokes. Here is my joke. Fittingly for this era, it’s AI provided.

I once tried to do nothing.
It took all day.

Currently 49 to 54 F in Ashland with an expected high of 54 to 57. Strong winds are singing their warnings. Grey clouds and sunshine square dance.

I sent my stepmother a condolence card today. I was just expressing my appreciation for what she and her family did for Dad, providing him the love and comfort of a family. Mom, Dad’s first wife, and his biological children from that union, could never work that out. Too many variables to reduce it to understanding. Dad was part of that. As he once told Mom, he didn’t mature until he was 35.

My mood is all over the place today. As I shift away from Dad’s death and the reflections they provoked, I’m moving into the new year and trying to re-engage politics. I don’t want to be a downer. I want to be honest. My mood is up, as is my spirit, but then I read about the latest news, and the sighs creep out of me.

While a new year has begun, Trump hasn’t changed for the better. He’s projecting again, calling Democrats ‘the worst’. I suspect criticism of him squeezed past his handlers. He knows he’s not being held in high regard, and actions he lauds as being great are being disparaged. So it goes in 2026 as it was in 2025, 2024, 2023… That leopard doesn’t change his spots.

After reading political news, my cheeky Neurons introduced “Radio Ga Ga” into the morning mental music stream. That made me laugh. The 1984 Queen song is a nostalgia look back at the radio era as television and music videos rose in popularity. The Neurons jumped on the a chorus after reading about Trump.

[Chorus]
All we hear is radio ga ga
Radio goo goo
Radio ga ga
All we hear is radio ga ga
Radio blah, blah

Radio goo goo, radio ga ga, radio blah blah. That’s too often Trump.

The song itself, though, uplifts me. This particular version, with Freddy Mercury out in front, feels powerful.

With 2026 underway, I hope to see meaningful and positive changes for you and me. May grace and peace come together with us. Cheers

Thirstdaz Theme Music

I’m working through tendrils of a new day, a new month, and a new year. Not much of it taxes me yet, but we’re only nine hours into it in Ashland.

Winter continues its weather games. Today, Thirstda, January 1, 2026, brings rain and a leaden, swollen sky. Winds whisper, howl, and moan. Temperatures around town reportedly range of 46 degrees F to 53. My house says it’s 51. Today’s high will be…51.

I posted news of Dad’s passing on Facebook and heard from many, including military peers, corporation co-workers, fellow writers-in-struggling, and friends on other continents. Comfort and thankfulness rose in me for so many taking the time from their lives to comment.

I’ve accepted Dad’s death on at least the surface. Flashes of not being able to speak or visit with him slide like gentle waves through my thoughts. Some tears fell yesterday. Today, I’m remembering him with fondness, chuckling and laughing at memories of how he smiled, laughed, and spoke.

As for the new year and month, I’m uncertain of what to expect. Last year was a ride on a cantankerous bear. Too many Trump and GOP actions dismayed my core. That core holds beliefs that We the People are supposed to have a voice in our government; that laws will be followed and enforced; that everyone is equal and deserves freedom and respect. Actions such as Trump’s rants about hoaxes, fake news, Democratic scum, and ICE rounding up people without due process all undermine my hopes.

I’ll continue voting, protesting, and writing about how Trump is conducting business. And I’ll keep trying to nurture hope and optimism that we’ll see a shift toward my hopeful vision of progress and democracy.

Here’s today’s music: “God Gave Rock and Roll to You”. The 1973 song was written by Russ Ballard. Ballard was in Argent at the time, so Argent performed and released it.

I suspect The Neurons planted the song in the morning mental music stream because I was thinking about working hard on the novel-in-progress, and the need to keep editing it. The song reflects those sentiments on one stanza:

Lyrics (h/t to Genius.com)

If you wanna be a singer or play guitar
Man, you’ve gotta sweat, or you won’t get far
‘Cause it’s never too late to work nine to five
And if you’re young, then you’ll never be old
Music can make your dreams unfold
How good it feels to be alive

Coffee is served again. May peace and grace find you and guide you along a hopeful path in the new year. Cheers

Witness

Through the year

We did stumble,

Doing weary chores

With a soft-voiced grumble.

Peeking through doors,

Working through days,

Of laughing, sighing,

And weary, changing ways.

Sometimes we shouted,

And sometimes shed tears,

Wondering how it would end,

This long, most miserable of years.

Now we sit

On another cusp,

Wondering,

What the next months

Will deliver to us?

We make promises and vow

To create changes that stay,

But will we be happier

Twelve months from this day?

Sundaz Theme Music

I looked out the window, and what did I see? Blue skies and sunshine looking down on me. No clouds nor fog! No snow but there is some frost. I did notice yesterday that our southern and northern mountains lack snow but the eastern mountains had snow. Snow there makes sense because the eastern mountains are higher.

It’s 27 at my house now, 29 at SOU’s weather station at the Farm, 30, according to Alexa, and 31 on the net’s weather report on MSN. We’re basically in accordance as elevations, mountain shadows, and the sun’s angle affect the temperature readings. They have forecast a high of 51 F for this late December day.

Yes, this is Sunda, December 28, 2025. Just three more sleeps and 2025 will bow out.

Dad’s end of life situation is worsening. I didn’t get an update yesterday but I understand how emotionally taxing that must be for his wife. She’s lived with him longer than me or my mother and is probably closer to him and knows him better. I will say that Dad and I have a lot of shared personality traits and easily move closer through conversations. As we were both in the Air Force for 20 years, he and I do seem to understand one another. His daughters, my sisters, either don’t speak to him because they’re angry and resentful, or only speak to him when they want something. He has another son, too, through his second marriage, and that son and I get along. He, too, only lived with Dad for about ten years.

Dad was active and gregarious all his life, flirting with women, charming everyone. He kept busy although he grew to enjoy sitting down and watching NBA basketball and college and NFL football. He was in the military 20 years, then worked as a grocery store assistant manager for about ten years before purchasing and running his own grocery store. Married twice, divorced twice, although he lived with another woman for ten years. He eventually moved to Texas and settled there, running a huge truck stop for twenty years, finally stepping down from that in his early eighties. That’s when he met and married his current wife. Back when Dad was in the military, he frequently had a second job, managing a club, bartending, or working in a store. He loved playing poker and he was highly skilled with a pool stick. He’s outlived his own father by almost thirty years.

On the other hand, Dad was never into arts, music, or dancing, admitting, “They’re not my thing.” He enjoyed a good steak and loved Italian and Chinese food but was never a foodie, and didn’t eat candy, sweets, or pastries.

Dad’s wife just texted me that she’s waiting for the nurse to arrive and will then send an update.

For Dad, I’m going with Van Halen and “Jump”. That’s because one of Dad’s usual, casual response was often, “Might as well.” That line is repeated through “Jump”, as in, “Might as well jump.” It’s an upbeat song, and he was pretty upbeat overall.

Hope peace and grace find you before the year’s end. Cheers

Thirstdaz Theme Music

High winds imitated taxiing jets all night long. We awoke to quiet sunshine and a drying land. 42 F, we hit like 49 F before the weather flipped into falling temperatures and increasing precipitation. It rained hard for a while and dropped into the thirties. Now it’s in the thirties but clear under fading sunshine. This was Christmas, Thirstda, December 25, 2025.

We were out of the house before nine AM, hitting the road to buzz to the other side of town for a breakfast brunch. The time was dropped on me yesterday. “We’re going to be there at nine?” I was incredulous. Friends had invited us to their place but that seemed like a early holiday hour when gift exchanging and children weren’t involved. We made it, no problem.

They weren’t ready for us. The husband didn’t make an appearance for over thirty minutes. We know him well and understand the health issues which slowed him. Guest number five arrived about twenty minutes after hubby showed. Guest number six was a no-show. She later called to apologize but she was having memory issue and forgot.

No matter. I was stewing about hurrying to be there when others clearly were less prepared than me for the early hour. The food, however, was sensational. Ham steaks. Plant based sausages. Dutch baby. Mexican quiche. Bananas, oranges, raspberries and blueberries. Delicious food, and after all but one arrived, a fun time, despite the early hour.

The early hour did have me smiling in memory about my childhood. Back then, filled with Santa-inspired energy, we were up by five AM, eager to see what presents had arrived. It’s a sweet look back at memories of an innocent period. Well, innocent for me. Mom and Dad were busy adulting, managing children, money, and all the associated pressures and needed.

Our fifth guest was a stranger. A music student from the Czech Republic, Tereza is 23 years old, a keyboardist who is learning music history (which, yes, she finds boring and tedious) while also being taught about more instruments. Most fascinating is her growing mastery of the pipe organ. She travels to another town to play a pipe organ in a Presbyterian Church. She shared some video of her playing.

She also gamely responded to our inquisition about the small village where she grew up, her parents and life in the Czech Republic, and their Christmas holiday traditions. A catholic, she shared their story that baby Jesus brings gifts and puts them under the tree. Yes, I wanted to know, how does baby Jesus get around? She laughed and replied, “That was our question, too.”

Then, following Christmas traditions (not), we played a full game of Mexican Train. Mexican Train felt like some kind of inherent slur, so we sought other names for it as we sorted rules, cheered wins, and lamented losses. A different and fun way to spin away Christmas hours.

Meanwhile, my sisters and I and Mom and I shot texts and videos back and forth. It’s the latest new holiday tradition.

Today’s music is “Come As You Are” by Nirvana. The Neurons fired it up in the morning mental music stream when I rolled out of bed and began fumbling through showering, shaving, and dressing. I don’t mind get up ‘early’ but I dislike being forced to forego my leisurely morning routine. As I progressed through my routine at a faster pace, The Neurons teased, “Just go as you are.” Hence, the song’s presence in the MMMS.

Had a pleasant Christmas with my wife and friends. Barely any coffee consumed. I think peace and grace peeked in on us. Hope peace and grace dropped in on you, too, however briefly it might have been, whether this is a holiday you celebrate or just another day on the calendar. Cheers

Mundaz Theme Music

Greeting fellow humans. Welcome to the last month of the tumultuous year of 2025.

It’s Munda, December 1, 2025. 33 F at my house, though out there in Ashlandia’s sunnier spots, it’s reported to be up to 40 F. Clear skies blue with promise and bright sunshine arch over us. They’re suggesting that we’ll see the mid to upper 50s today. Yesterday never felt warm and hissed with a chill that whispered, “Winter is standing right behind you.”

Today’s music comes from dressing again. Yesterday and the previous day, I wore jeans. I told my wife I was going old school. That came from the realization that I used to wear jeans regularly and I don’t often wear them these days. Anyway from that, I laughingly sang to Papi, “Forever in Blue Jeans.” The Neurons jumped right on that and fed the 1979 Neil Diamond song to the morning mental music stream.

Trump released another trant. A trant is a text-based social media scree filled with typos, capital letters, incorrect information, and exclamation points. It’s a neologism formed from combining Trump with rant. Trant.

Dizzy Donny’s latest trant was about his misconception of Senator Kelly’s suggestion to military members to disobey unlawful or illegal orders. After releasing and deleting an error-filled version, Donny T came up with one that satisfied his low standards.

Trant #1

Trant #2

Dozy Donny finishes with a capitol letter scream, “DO WHAT HAS TO BE DONE!!!” Whatever happened to “Thank you for your attention to this matter!”?

I wish the nation would do what needs to be done and remove him from office and get him therapy. But MAGAts and the GOP like this sort of *cough* leadership.

But Senator Kelly is not suggesting that military members be insubordinate or disloyal. He and the other Democrats are reminding them, as others often do, that their duty is to the U.S. Constitution and to perform legal orders.

Coffee is making its way down the esophagus to the proper places. Hope peace and grace show today but not holding my breath. Here we go, into the years final month. Cheers

Twozdaz Wandering Thoughts

The coffee shop is pretty damn full.

I’m in RoCo. It’s my new favorite coffee place, an old house converted to a business on the corner of 8th Avenue and East Main Street.

Every table is in use. Many regulars are in attendance. Like me, at a table, computer open. My eyes and ears are open even as I read, think, and type. Wonderful community and social energies swirl through the room like a strong, happy breeze. I love the noise and action, enjoy looking up at the faces, glancing at the fashion.

Most clients are, ahem, ‘my age’. They look like, ahem, boomers, like me. I’ll be seventy next year. I think I’m in the middle of the age spectrum here. Sure, there are so younger outliers. Teenagers who look like they’re wearing colorful fleece pajamas come in as pairs, order, take their stuff and leave. A few twenty-somethings, thirtyish, and fortyish folks are partaking of drink and food, chatting with others, reading, so forth. Hoka shoes are spotted on many, the shoes of my people. Columbia sportwear and Patagonia dominates. They’re the clothes of my tribe, but this is Oregon, where some of that stuff is produced, and where Columbia is headquartered, up north, west of Portland. Two children, about ten, are also present with an older woman. The children are on ice cream on this chilly, foggy, autumn day. The weather doesn’t daunt them from enjoying a cold but sweet treat.

The baristas take orders, prepare, and serve, all laughing and chatting as they do. Regulars come in and get greeted by name, including Sugar the dog, who waves their tail in happiness and await their standard treat.

Sunshine has burst through outside. Cold air storms me as the doors open and close. This is the United States, Oregon, Ashlandia, in 2025.

Mundaz Theme Music

We’re Gloomsville today, Munda, November 24, 2025. Fog is squatting on us with a chilly, gray ambiance. Sunshine took a look and said, “Pass,” for the morning. Warmer today than yesterday, 44 F, we’re hoping to plumb 60. Such a winter feel soaks the air that I wouldn’t be surprised if Frosty the Snowman strutted down past my house.

Yet this all feels like many childhood Thanksgivings in the Pittsburgh area where I spent my elementary and junior high school years. We’d be released from school for the holiday and rush into this stuff, noses red and running above our grinning mouths. Eyes sparkling, we’d ask one another, “What do you want to do?” Because we were free! And also because we knew good food was coming. Yes, some restrictions would also rise up about how to behave and dress for the good times as the larger mass of family, the ones we only saw a few times a year, all came together. Wish I could recover some of that youthful hopefulness and energy but the weight of too many events in too many years tamps it down tight. All that remains are reflections.

Sunda was spent celebrating another friend’s 78th. We treated them to dinner and then retired to their home for a few hours of Mexican Train, because that’s what she wanted to do. Phone calls of others interrupted out time, but that induced smiles instead of resentment. Good to know she was well thought of by so many friends and relatives that they took time to call.

My post today is late as it was our turn for our monthly Food & Friends deliveries. A smaller list this time. We wondered about the absentees and wished them the best. Then my wife suggested breakfast out somewhere. Although I’d eaten breakfast, I agreed because I know this as one of her favorite things to do. I’m still cautious and mindful about what I consume, eating in moderation and then monitoring my bod for problems.

Today’s song is “Man in A Box”. This is a 1991 grunge song by Alice in Chains. It’s a song about censorship and government restrictions, and was inspired by the songwriter learning how veal was produced via calves kept in cages. Later interviews, band members said that the song’s inspiration was derived from how the media worked in conjunction with the government to control the story. We’re all familiar with that, aren’t we. So, as I was reading the news this morning, The Neurons came up with this song.

I last played this in July of 2024, when we were still hopeful that people would Vote Blue. Not enough did. “The economy,” they cried. Now look where we’re at.

There was cause for some show and victory celebrations today. That would be the dismissal of the Comey and James prosecutions because the prosecutor was not lawfully appointed. I suspect that this will be challenged and end up at the Roberts Court. Odds there probably favor the Trump Regime. I write that because I don’t think the Roberts Court is overly invested in law, precedence, or the Constitution. The majority are more about right-wing ideology.

Next food for musing came from news about a new investigation.

Pentagon Launches Investigation into Senator Mark Kelly over Video Urging Troops to Defy ‘Illegal’ Orders

This is all about the video released the other day that urged military members not to obey illegal orders, reminding them that they swore an oath to the Constitution. I’m retired military; I fully understand what was in that video. I suspect Senator Kelly is like me and probably laughed, saying, “Bring it on!” This advice is continuously given to military members. Ain’t nothing new. That it’s a military veteran and senator, and Democrat giving that advice, along with other Democrats and veterans doesn’t change that it’s anything new or unique. It’s just timely, needed advice, given the Trump Regime’s propensity for lying, ignoring the law, and attacking people and encouraging violence against others based on political stances. We always address following and obey lawful orders, as called out in the Uniform Code of Military Justice, or UCMJ. We learn that in initial training sessions and it’s reinforced multiple times in training sessions while in the military. It’s a serious matter, and that’s how we treat it.

Peace and grace ain’t here yet but I still light a candle in the window. Meanwhile, coffee up and carry on, or if you’re not part of coffee nation, whatever bevie works for you. Here we go again, once more into the foggy sunny windy chilly warming autumn winter day. Cheers

Sundaz Theme Music

Sundaz has slipped in, wrapping an autumn day around its shoulders. Sunshine and clouds and shuffling and bumping one another. Temperatures are moldering around the low 50s with plans for the high 50s. We’re now halfway through the eleventh month of 2025, as it’s November 16, 2025. With 2025 slinking toward the end, we wonder, are we on the right path as a nation? My Neurons answer with a resounding, “Hell, no.”

My sisters reported on progress cleaning Mom’s house out. She’s lived there thirty plus years. Stuff accumulates. Bills and paperwork. Memorabilia. Clothing. Food, utensils, bowls, dishes. Three sisters reported for duty, taking what they wanted for themselves, otherwise tossing things, filling up the trash and recycling cans. Sad, depressing, normal.

Today’s music comes from being outside at midnight last night. (Yes, it was a cat thing.) I was looking for the moon, the northern lights, meteorites, alien spaceships, bears, cougars, etc. But The Neurons took it in a different direction, bringing up a cover of “Shame on the Moon” by Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band. I remember that song arriving on the radio scene and singing it to myself later as I walked at night, admiring the moon. It’s a mellow song for a mellow day when they tell us rain is on the way.

It’s Sunda so the news cycle is slow. I can’t pretend to guess what Traziness will strike. He’s retreating on tariffs, sweating bullets over the Epstein files, and continues to rule over Project 2025 chaos, inflicting dumbassery and cruelty wherever and whenever. The Trump Epstein Shutdown is over but the Trump Epstein Shitshow goes on.

Have a great Sunda. I’m gonna strive to do the same. Coffee is up. Here we go, one more time. Cheers

Satyrdaz Theme Music

Sunshine is blessing Satyrda, November 8, 2025. Today’s pertinent temperature numbers for Ashlandia read 56, 68, 49 for the present, high, and low, but my local system claims it’s just 46 F out there. The cat and I agree, it’s still chilly here in the shadows.

My pain is a downhill racer, going away fast. Did just one pain pill yesterday, end of day, and none today. Still just need to watch bending and stretching, coughing, sneezing, laughing. Feel that. And keep anything I pick up below 20 pounds. Having my gallbladder removed has brought out others’ stories. I appreciate them all. One local friend claims she had hers removed and didn’t change her diet at all. Sis wrote that one of her clients yesterday said he had his gallbladder removed, was hospitalized five days for it, and then had to go back to the hospital. So, it feels like it’s one of those, “individual results will vary” things. I’m on a low-diet for the next six months, according to my doc.

Today’s music comes from being silly with Papi. I sometimes sing to my cats (yes, they’re magnificently unimpressed by it). I launched into “Pappidio”, a song based on Phil Collins’s song, “Sussudio”. My song is about an orange cat on my mind. Phil’s was about a girl. Anyway, of course, The Neurons inserted the original Collins song into the morning mental music stream.

Trumpgames continue. Falling asleep at meetings. Showing no interest or concern when another human falls ill at a meeting. Making deepfake videos of himself, pretending to be something and someone he is not. Rational? No, delusional! TACO has announced the U.S. will not send anyone to the G20 summit. His decision is based on fake news. What else is new? Deep in his own altered reality, he only believes fake news these days. In his world, he’s a shiny example of health, intelligence, and leadership. In the real world, we see him and think that he’s on the verge of a total breakdown in his body, mind, and control.

Trump continues on his pardons spree. Republican and convicted? Wealthy and convicted? He’s got a deal for you if you’re a MAGA. Yet, when questioned about some of the people he’s pardoned, Trump indignantly replies, he doesn’t know who they are. We should all be doing all-cap blasts about this.

“DOZY DONNY FOUND NAPPING IN MEETINGS!!! AGAIN!!! Claims he can’t even remember people he pardoned!!! SHAMEFUL!!! DISGRACEFUL!!! Trump is the WORSE POTUS IN HISTORY!!! NOT EVEN CLOSE!!!”

Trump did get his wish for stopping SNAP benefits to starving Americans. Roberts Court stepped in his his behalf and overruled all the lower courts. Causing sickness and starvation among your own people is surely worth a peace prize, right? Right, that’s pure snark. Trump is worthy of the Nobel Cruelty Prize, if one was handed out. After threatening more war and attacking more Venezuelans, peace prizes to Trump will only be offered by other craven billionaires. Or he can make one up and give it to himself. That’s his standard speed. Fake it.

BTW, do you see how he labeled the Oval Office with a paper sign? That’s likely to remind him where and what it is. He’s failing fast.

Meanwhile, the record Trump-Epstein Shutdown (TES) of 2025 continues. The GOP is eager to shaft people on healthcare and will not budge from that position. The Democrats continue to insist that the tax break that let people pay lower healthcare premiums be reinstalled. As the economy spirals downward heading toward Thanksgiving and the end of the year, when retail takes its largest share of revenues and profits, the GOP are looking like Trump Chumps.

Speaking of which, remember these smirking Trump Chumps?

Leaks are claiming that the Epstein files info on Trump is much, much worse than originally imagined. To put this into Trumpspeak: “TERRIBLE SCANDAL!!! WORSE UNITED STATES SCANDAL EVER!!! REPUBLICANS ARE HIDING AND PROTECTING CHILD MOLESTERS!!! IF TRUMP IS INNOCENT, WHICH WE ALL KNOW HE ISN’T, RELEASE THE FILES!!! PROVE IT!!!”

Or something like that.

Off we go, into another day with hopes that peace and grace come around to lift us up. Meanwhile, I’ll make do with black coffee. Have the best. Cheers

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