Ashland, southern Oregon. Monday, September 14, 2026.
Autumn continues showing in the valley here, with leaves putting on their fall foliage of reds, golds, yellows, and orange. Leaves haven’t begun aggressively falling.
It’s 57 F right now. Today’s high will be 79 F. We’re going into summer’s last fling. It feels and smells more like autumn today.
Another rock guitarist passed away. Cheetah Chrome, lead guitarist for the Dead Boys, passed away at 71. I had their debut album, “Young, Loud, and Snotty”. Picked it up when it came out in 1977. My wife, mother, sisters, and cousins all professed to hate it.
I got great joy out of their response. Punk wasn’t about being ‘liked’. I admired how it reshaped what music could, should, and would be. People often prefer things be put into neat boxes, especially pop music, art, and literature.
It also pleased me to surprise others that I, a young Air Force NCO with, trim hair, tidy dress, enjoyed the raucousness that punk often delivered.
In these times of Trump, I think punk, rock, and rap all need to make a resurgence, establish a new identity. Don’t know if that’s in the young musicians of these times. Of course, I’m not tuned in to it. Older now, to label what I am. *smile*
Here’s to the punkers, and to Chrome. Here is “Sonic Reducer.”
Summer is set to officially begin in the northern hemes next week. It’s already getting in place in Ashland. The sky is blue, blue, blue, and the sun is getting hot, hot, hot. My house saw 96 yesterday while most of Ashland felt mid 90s temperatures.
Right now, it’s 77 F with the upper 90s on the table. Officially, the weather services differ from my local reading; they say, it’s 83 and feels like 91.
Going through this heat wave with my wife is fascinating in a terrible way. When it hit 96 outside yesterday, inside was 83. Warmish to me, causing sweat to dribble down the small of my back and accumulate in my pits.
I asked my wife what she thought of the heat in the house. She said, “It’s cool to me.”
She also often needs lights on. Complains, “It’s so dark in here.”
Dismaying. The other day, I came home. It was 86 degrees outside. The room was 78. She had a space heater on.
My sister, Gina, said she thinks Mom is on her ‘last legs’. As an aside, that’s an interesting expression for humans, comparing us to repaired furniture.
Gina’s assessment came in the wake of continued complaints from Mom about headaches, UTIs, yeast infections, and diarrhea. Tests come back and show, ‘nothing is wrong’. But Mom had another fall and hit her head again yesterday.
I have felt that Mom was on her last legs for the last month. She’s continued through a spiral of pain and difficulty communicating, remembering, and moving. She still eats, though. How long her ‘last legs’ will last is always difficult to predict.
Gina sent photos of Mom’s empty rooms today. Mom’s keyboard was given away to a young woman. Gina shared stories of how Mom would play the keyboard and sing while Frank strummed along on the guitar.
There’s been a few headlines and stories like that abounded, complaining about the costs of food and beverages at World Cup venues. Americans have been enduring this for years at professional sporting events. We’re not overly outraged, just savagely bitter. What makes these prices taste worse is that they’re often inflated by ‘fees’ to pay for the site.
That all helps fuel the K-shaped economy. Prices are hypermanaged to attract consumers. Then we’re gouged on ‘monetized’ aspects. For example, I can buy a ‘cheap’ airline ticket for a few hundred dollars. It won’t include food. The seat will be the worse on the plane. Doesn’t include baggage except a small carryon. And the actual price I pay will be much higher, as fees and administrative charges are added to pay for airport construction, security, and higher fuel and insurance costs.
I don’t expect it to get any better in Trump’s economy. Window dressing drives Trump’s values. He’s interested in what he thinks ‘looks good.’ So ‘low’ ticket prices are nice optics, even if they don’t reflect reality.
Americans have learned, though. We — those marginalized by the costs of living — understand how this works now. Consumer sentiment is understandably low. As this headline nicely puts it:
How is Trump’s war with Iran going? I don’t know; you tell me. The war is now at 106 days as Trump and Iran continue to negotiate.
The Epstein ballroom remains under construction. I believe that Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! is hosting an event involving UFC fighting on the White House lawn. BTW, in true Trump Double Standards fashion, Bud Light is sponsoring the UFC White House event. Bud Light was boycotted by MAGA just a few years ago for partnering with a transgender influencer.
Instead of a Trump Quote of the Day, I offer you this:
The states that remain in Trump’s column are still red on the map, although the intensity of that red has faded noticeably since inauguration day. Wyoming, still his strongest state, now sits at +25 after starting at +47. North Dakota follows at +15, South Dakota at +14, and West Virginia at +13. The more telling detail is not where they sit now, but where they began, with several of these states having effectively lost around half their initial support while staying on the positive side of the ledger.
Kentucky stands out as the only state to cross fully into negative territory, moving from +23 at the start of the term to -4 today, a 27-point swing that leads the national decline. Montana follows closely behind, dropping from +25 to +1, while Idaho slides from +34 to +11.
That’s a present to We the People on Trump’s birthday!
Today’s song is “More than A Feeling” by Boston. While the song is about love and loss, it’s in my morning mental music stream because economists keep talking about a recession vibe. They insist that the numbers look ‘okay’ if not great for the economy and we not heading for a recession. But We the People see the price and then the real cost. We know that’s a screwed-up economy.
My hope for you is that you have an enjoyable, happy day, wherever you are.
Today’s weather vibe echoes with yesterday’s impressions: sunshine in the east, dark, heavy, low clouds everywhere else. A late morning squall passed through Ashland yesterday. I was driving through it; my wife said it never touched our place.
The temperature now is 50 with a high of 55 F forecasted, roughly like yesterday. Except I saw 70 at our house at 3 PM.
News headlines told me yesterday that Jacksonville, Florida had wildfires burning. The headlines were about AMTRAK stopping train service for fires. I had to dig to learn about those fires. They now affected Florida and Georgia. The causes are exceptionally dry and windy conditions, and extreme drought.
According to Drought.gov, 51% of the United States is now in drought conditions. I knew it was bad in the west, especially the Pacific Northwest, but it didn’t register that Florida was also suffering from a drought.
We’re preparing for a hot and dry summer in our area. Further east, I read today that Colorado is draining a reservoir, shifting its water to another location, to reduce loss from evaporation.
In Trump Iran war news, the original ‘cease fire’ agreement is ending on the eight week war. Nobody can say what will happen then. Trump is making threats; the US Navy seized one tanker in the Gulf of Oman and boarded another in the Indian Ocean.
Your Trump quote for today:
Heavy snow and cold is forecast for parts of parts of Alaska, California, Kentucky, Maryland, New Jersey, Ohio, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and Virginia.
Virginia voters go to the polls for a special election about redistricting.
I won’t go into the various shooting deaths of the last few days.
The song that found its way into my morning mental music stream is from 1993. “Plush” by Stone Temple Pilots is reputed to have a couple ‘meanings’, according to STP. For me, it’s about uncertainty, waiting — and lies.
Opening Lyrics
And I feel that time’s a wasted go So where ya going ’til tomorrow? And I see that these are lies to come So would you even care?
I’m not surprised that Les Neurons brought “Plush” into my head as my thoughts swirl with the news and speculation about Mom and her future. The song came out a few years before I retired from the military. I was living in the SF – SJ bay area and heard the song frequently on the radio while driving around on errands.
Hope you experience a safe, healthy, satisfying day, and don’t get too taken down by the news.
It’s warming today but not like much of the continental United States. Currently 68 F, our 75 F high will give us a comfortably warm day.
My wife purchased this little art piece for the house. It’s perfect for us, as we both enjoy reading, and I also write. I enjoy the little reader statue so much, I thought I would share.
My life is otherwise auto-pilot quiet as we go through routine tasks and await news or results.
As I often do, I began reading the news today and ended up struck with some ideas which evolved into a small piece about Trump world. I split it off.
Meanwhile, the basic theme stayed with me: imaginary. Much of Trump’s existence is based on false ideas, misconstrued history, and things which he imagines. My Neurons sensed the direction and introduced “Imaginary Lover” by ARS into my morning mental music stream.
It fits, though: “Imaginary lovers never turn you down.” That’s Trump and his base all the way; they never turn him down.
Also, despite all the files being suppressed and the history that shows Trump was friends with Epstein, Trump is trying to insist that’s not true. He’s trying to tell us that we imagine his relationship with Epstein.
I chuckled when I heard the song in my head. How many of Trump’s base imagine him as their lover?
I hope your day is comfortable, safe, and leaning toward optimistic outcomes.
I was sitting somewhere, familiar to me in the dream, but unfamiliar to me in real life. Several acquaintances came up and chatted with me. On a white wall to my left were six pieces of art. One woman asked, “What are those.”
I explained that they were books in progress with a smile, that needed to be finished. She selected one, took it down, and started flipping through it. Suddenly she started. “That character has my name.”
Yes, I acknowledged. “You were in mind when I named the character.”
She continued through the pages. “I like this. You should finish it.”
I nodded. “That’s the plan.”
She passed the piece to another person who asked for it. The second person went through it and said, “I like this, too.”
She handed it to me. I flipped it open and began going through it, then stopped. “I know how this ends. It just came to me.”
Both stared at me. “It just came to you?” one asked. “Just like that?”
“Yes. I’m going to finish this now.”
I spent the rest of the dream writing and rewriting that book. It took some weird turns. At one point, I stopped to watch golfers. Green, brown, and orange golf balls were in use, and they were playing on a mountain, hitting the balls down toward greens in valleys far below. After one teed off, the watching gallery emitted a long and low moan of appreciation and then began hitting golf balls down into the valley.
“What are they doing?” a woman seated with me asked.
I smiled. “They’re hitting golf balls down. I think they’re supposed to help locate the original ball.”
“How?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
I went back to work on the book. Sometimes as I worked on it, the print on the page was purple. Other times, the pages flared in bright purple. Yes, purple prose came to me in the dream, to giggles.
By the dream’s end, the novel was finished. I awoke very satisfied.
Hey, jewels and gems, it’s Munda, August 11, 2025. Today features clear skies and heat. Didn’t cool much last night after we pegged 104 F at my house. Only dropped to 71 in the nocturnal hours. Now it’s in the upper 70s and rushing toward 103 F. Fire warnings abound.
While not too cool, the moon was full and bright. Papi and I enjoyed the moment together. Only sound heard were crickets and the rush of machinery up the asphalt river called I-5, several miles away.
Reading today’s headlines, I’m furious with Trump and the GOP. Ignoring laws and truth, that gold-plated Offal Office buffoon ordered troops into D.C. to restore law and order, a law and order that had no problem, except one of his DOGE boy toys was victimized by crime. It’s brought on a full-throated whole-body GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR out of me. Can’t imagine this going over well with anyone but the Project 2025 Christian white supremacy gang and the most deeply immersed of the MAGAts. For me, it shows Trump’s deep desperation to play king and distract from the growing pile of things going wrong and matters worsening in the United States. He’s also trying so damn hard to keep his MAGAts and everyone else from thinking about him and his relationship with Epstein and the many crimes which may be exposed when that file is released.
Today’s music is credited to thinking about Trump. Precisely: how Jeffrey Epstein introduced Trump to his third wife at one of Epstein’s debauched affairs, the ones with the details in the Epstein File.
Trump partying with sex offenders Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell and his third wife, Ivanka.
Donald Trump, with his new girlfriend and future third wife, and several convicted sex offenders.
As I was thinking about that meeting, Der Neurons rewarded those thoughts with an Eddie Money beat as “Shakin'” from 1982 opened into the morning mental music stream.
She was shakin’ (oh-oh-oh-oh) Snappin’ her fingers (oh-oh-oh-oh) She was movin’ round and round (oh-oh-oh-oh) That girl was shakin’ (oh-oh-oh-oh)
So, this Mundaz theme song is owed to those BFFs, Donald Trump and the late Jeffrey Epstein.
Had some coffee. Off to deliver Food & Friends. Hope your day is awash in peace and grace. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 