Ashland, southern Oregon. Wednesday, September 30, 2026.
Gonna be a warm autumn day here — 85 F at its hottest — with springlike ambiance among the fall foliage.
Had one of those sighing but I must laugh moments today. Reading politics (of course, sigh). And about a Trump administration announcement by the Secretary of Defense, Pete Hegseth.
Hegseth was announcing Project Meridian. Looking to the United States’ future needs, Hegseth is tapping Trump’s favored billionaire — Elon Musk — along with Newt Gingrich, an 83-year-old politician, and Palmer Luckey, a weapons manufacturer.
Yeah, that sounds like an effective group. *eye roll* Perfect for looking forward to protect America’s future.
As Newt Gingrich once said, “You can’t trust anybody with power.” I certainly don’t Hegseth and this triumvirate, or Donald Trump.
Then, oh Lordy, we had the spectacle of a GOP senator attempting to trap Jack Smith in his testimony, only for Missouri Senator Eric Schmitt to reveal himself as a buffoon. It’s another one of those situations which would be funny — certainly worth of a Saturday Night Live skit — except this is a US senator, an elected official who is supposed to be capable of deciding our nation’s laws and solving its problems, which makes this painfully, painfully sad.
That about seems up my morning view of things. It ended up leaving me thinking, right now, I could use some good news, and moved on to other needs.
Hearing that, though, The Neurons introduced the Van Halen song, “Right Now” to my morning mental music stream. It’s a good song to carry me through the day, strong sound, solid vocals. Hope you find something in it.
May some good news find you right now and carry you forward on its shoulders for a couple days at least.
A full-fledged fall day here — cool at 63 degrees F, warming to 73 today, with sunshine breaking through cloud blockades.
All quiet with Mom today. My sister, Gina, called Mom to see what was needed and she could help. That seemed to mollify Mom. Not to make light of it, or anything, because Mom’s needs are real. But she becomes fixated, and it often seems to stem from her sense of helplessness and isolation.
Today’s theme song is “Run Like Hell” by Pink Floyd. The song was on the album “The Wall”, released in 1979. My younger cousin was so into Pink Floyd and tremendously excited when this album came out. I was stationed at Randolph AFB in Texas at the time. He lived not far away, in San Antonio. We had a lot of fun when we could hook up. Sadly, he passed away from cancer a few years ago. I can’t hear any song off “The Wall” without remembering him.
The Neurons plugged the song into the morning mental music stream today after seeing a Robert Reich Bluesky post.
“I feel optimistic about the midterm elections, just over five weeks away. But my stomach aches when I think of what’s at stake. Call me nauseously optimistic“
Yes, that’s me, too. And if Trump loses, many will see it as validation that Trump is wildly unpopular and unsuccessful. Angry as hell, Trump will probably tilt more into authoritarian ignorance and violence, while shouting, “Cheating! National emergency!”
“Run Like Hell” is about a rock star who orders an attack on the riff raff, so it’s appropriate as hell for my feelings today. I’m optimistic, nauseous and anxious, and quite ready to metamorphically run like hell.
Sample Lyrics
You better run all day And run all night And keep your dirty feelings Deep inside.
I hope you have no need to run like hell today unless it’s because you decide to run out and get a favorite treat for yourself. Remember to treat yourself kindly and try to do unto others as you’d have them do unto you.
Ashland, southern Oregon. Saturday, September 26, 2026.
The roads are never ending.
Autumn lines today’s road with beautiful trees and a blue sky. I saw a single white cloud. Not large or small, it was oblong shaped and thin looking. Blue streaks thinned more of it, like someone had tried to scape it from the sky.
We hit the low 70s today. Just a cool, calm, chill day. Tonight’s low temperature will dip into the mid 40s.
Texting with Mom occupied some time. She repeatedly calls and texts. And we’re apparently expected to instantly answer, take her call, etc. If we don’t then she accuses us of ignoring, abandoning, or avoiding her.
I am doing some of that. As my sister, Gina, won’t answer Mom, Mom comes to me to be her intermediary. Gina told me she hasn’t blocked Mom, but like me, she’s busy and a little weary. I honestly told Mom I don’t immediately respond because I’m busy and I’m emotionally, physically, and mentally weary. Yes, Mom contributes to some of that, but so does other things happen in our existence. She took it well.
Today’s song is “Big Empty” by the Stone Temple Pilots, often known as STP. The song came out in 1993 and became part of my music rotation as I commuted around Mountain View, Palo Alto, and Sunnyvale, CA. The Neurons tipped the song into my morning mental music stream when I was thinking about conversations with Mom. If you know the lyrics, you can get that.
Sample Lyrics
Drivin’ faster in my car Falling farther from just what we are Smoke a cigarette, and lie some more, these conversations kill Falling faster in my car
Time to take her home, her dizzy head is conscience laden Time to take a ride, it leaves today, no conversation Time to take her home, her dizzy head is conscience laden Time to wait too long, to wait too long, to wait too long
Too much walkin’, shoes worn thin Too much trippin’, and my soul’s worn thin Time to catch a ride, it leaves today, her name is what it means Too much walkin’, shoe’s worn thin
Time to take her home, her dizzy head is conscience laden Time to take a ride, it leaves today, no conversation Time to take her home, her dizzy head is conscience laden Time to wait too long, to wait too long, to wait too long
May this autumn day in the north, spring day below the equator bring you good company and delicious meals.
Ashland, southern Oregon. Wednesday, September 23, 2026.
66 F, we have blue skies, contrails, and the potential to hit 78 today, a fallish, warmish day.
One contrail fascinated me. Coming in from the southwest, the contrail cut east over Ashland’s airspace before turning due east for a short distance, then veered northeast. Studying the fat contrail, I wondered what air vessel caused those traces and what they were up to.
My wife and I were quietly reading the news this morning when she began railing about something. Engaged in thought, I didn’t play close attention.
Then she started up about Trump’s ballroom — the one he began building to distract us from the Epstein files, the one he said would be paid for by donors and cause taxpayers nothing. We talked about the story about the architect who quit the ballroom project because Trump, safety, and common sense. My wife was practically snarling when she quoted Trump from the story, “I am the code.”
Yes, I honestly get why that pissed her off. Trump loves claiming he knows more than anyone on topics, declaring that he’s an expert. The results say otherwise.
Your Trump Quote(s) of the Day:
My wife then went on about a pet peeve of hers, people parking in front of our house. One car has been there several weeks, which really gets her going. She says things, “I hate it when people do that.” Seems like overdramatic language to me, and unnecessary anger, but it’s a pet peeve. They’re not overly logical.
Anyway, I began chuckling to myself about her outbursts. Something in her tone caused The Neurons to play “Everything About You” in my morning mental music stream. The hard-rock Ugly Kid Joe song came out back in 1992. It’s a playful take on someone with a negative attitude expressing how much they hate things. They hate the rain and sunshine, beach and mountains, country, and city.
Sample Lyrics
I hate the rain and sunny weather And I, I hate the beach and mountains too, boo-hoo And I don’t like a thing about the city, no no And I, I, I hate the countryside too
And I hate everything about you Everything about you
And I don’t like a thing about your mother And I, I hate your daddy’s guts too, boo-hoo And I don’t like a thing about your sister, no no ‘Cause I, I, I think sex is overrated too
And I get sick when I’m around I can’t stand to be around I hate everything about you
As in played in my head, my wife said with a new spurt of anger, “I really hate Trump.” She then added, “And Mitch McConnell.”
So I think the song captures some thoughts very well. Especially when thinking about Trump.
I hope your day is filled with kindness and love, and things you like. May you live long and prosper. *smile*
Ashland, southern Oregon. Sunday, September 20, 2026.
We’re sitting on the cusp of autumn at 78 F, anticipating a rise to 90 F, so sunny and blue that you’d be forgiven for thinking it’s the middle of summer.
But the changing leaves on the trees defy that assessment. And the night temperatures have been coming down…cooler…cooler.
Sunset comes more quickly, and sunrise seems to lag.
It’s summer’s end, autumn’s beginning.
Seasons don’t slow Trump down! First, he tells us that he’s built the world’s greatest military, seizing all the credit, as though he conceived and built everything while selecting and training every soldier, marine, sailor, and airman.
Then, while building the White House ballroom on the site of the East Wing that he illegally tore down, he embellished his ballroom dream, declaring it would be ‘drone-proof’ with a drone port, a military installation with snipers.
Now Trump is saying the same thing about the new Arch he wants built.
Trump says new arch will also deploy drones, position snipers and store ammo
Who are all these invaders Trump is fearing that he’s obsessed with adding snipers to everything he builds?
Well, wiser heads suggest that Trump is pitching the security angle because the beautification scam isn’t working any longer.
More cynical people like me like me believe that it’s a three-prong attack on common sense and decency. The reasons include both of the previous reasons, but it’s also another distraction as part of Operation Epic LOOK SQUIRREL!
Trump using the security angle for the arch does make sense; when courts heard about ‘security concerns’ after the Epstein ballroom construction had been halted, they yielded to Trump.
He is ridiculous. So are his supporters, especially those zealots, the MAGAzens.
All this Trump thinking about wars, guns, and shooting provoked Les Neurons to bring JoJo Gunne into the morning mental music stream. The band was named after a Chuck Berry song and the song came out in 1972. No much to the lyrics, to be honest, but it’s upbeat and easy to sing along with.
I hope this is a good day for you, using whatever metrics are meaningful to your life.
Ashland, southern Oregon.Saturday, September 19, 2026.
Summer is serving up a last hurrah, taking us into the high 80s today and low 90s tomorrow. Sunshine crowns the multi-colored trees and serves up against a deep blue sky.
I’m going to pass on writing about Trump and politics today, so it’ll be a short post.
Today’s music is “Talk of the Town”. It’s in the morning mental music stream after friends and I were talking about the plight of the bears here in southern Oregon. “Talk of the Town” is a 1980 song by the Pretenders. If I was writing about the current national situation, it would be a good song for today.
Sample Lyrics
The rules and such never bothered you You call the shots and they follow
May this day and every day find you safe, free, healthy and happy.
Ashland, southern Oregon. Friday, September 18, 2026.
Another Friday reached, another week trickling toward the end. We drift further into autumn in the northern hemes as they moved toward hot weather south of the equator.
Today has Ashland at 68 F with 83 F on the blue horizons. Leaves are not falling from trees yet, but colors are swarming into the green. Maples are already shimmering with dark reds.
All quiet with Mom and my family. I texted Mom and received one to two words in response. Nothing from any sisters.
Today’s warm sunshine is appreciated. Nicely complements my morning coffee. I usually take it black but my physician suggested that I need more protein in my diet. I now pour some chocolate protein shake into my morning coffee, resulting in a protein mocha, more or less. *smile*
I go through headlines, plucking out information, studying the runes, peering at the tea leaves, hoping for revelations.
Fox News Poll: Squeezed by costs, frustrated voters turn to the Democrats
The omens show a divided nation and a desperate, flailing Trump. Even as I wonder about that, I remember that Trump has always enjoyed being confrontational and combative. He likes to appear defiant and is often bullying, no matter what the circumstances are. He’s rarely conciliatory.
Basically, though, most Republicans still seem to support Trump, according to polls. For a significant part of the GOP coalition, the economy is not the central objective, and his lies and broken promises are not a problem. These are prices they seem willing to pay for cultural dominance, institutional transformation, or the defeat of their perceived enemies.
My overall sense is that we’re in the lull in a storm. More stormy weather is coming.
Der Donald is doing his best to keep us distracted and angry. This week, Trump floated conjecture about demolishing the Kennedy Center because he can’t have his name on it. How very Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! of him. Of course, with any Trump declaration, he can swing swiftly from rhetoric to destruction. Court orders were quickly sought. Whether they’ll slow Trump is debatable. He always claims he’s for law and order but has shown that he doesn’t think it applies to him.
Today’s song is about storms but it came about yesterday. As my wife and I chatted about the novel “John of John” in our home office, we heard thunder. Or it could have been thunder. Maybe it was a passing truck.
Going to the window, we looked out on a confused collage — stormy clouds, bright sunshine, blue sky, distant rain veils. We stayed a bit, continuing to chat but heard no more thunder and saw no lightning.
All that culminated in The Neurons recalling a 1974 Deep Purple song, “Stormbringer”. The song stayed in the morning mental music stream as I read the news and drank my coffee. Part of that is because whenever it’s sunny but rainy, my wife and I look for rainbows. “Stormbringer” references riding a rainbow.
Hope you find a day of rainbows, peace, and good health. Here we go, into another one.
Ashland, southern Oregon. Tuesday, September 15, 2026.
Going to warm up to 80 here, giving us a warm late summer day. 57 F under blue skies.
I spent time on the phone with Mom the last several days. Or tried. I would call her and she wouldn’t answer. She would call me but I would be out doing things.
Per a text agreement, I called her at 9 AM yesterday. Didn’t get her. She called me hours later. They took her to Forbes Hospital in an ambulance. Another UTI infection. Severe pain. She was given an antibiotic by IV.
She asked me to ask some favors of Gina, my sister who is Mom’s primary helper among the family in the area. Gina agreed but warned that if Mom said anything nasty, Gina would cut her off.
But Gina is helping Mom, visiting her in the hospital, helping her sit up to eat lunch (chef’s salad), sending us a photo of Mom in bed. Mom is getting an IV of Ertapenem now. Gina stayed longer with Mom, telling Mom stories and making her laugh. Peace is at hand for a few hours.
As for Trump and the United States…
Satisfying that the Roberts Court ruled against Trump and the mail-in ballot scam he’d concocted with the USPS. I laughed and shook my head when I read comments on the ruling that ‘the liberal judges had done it again’. Yes, such a VERY liberal Roberts Court, isn’t it?
Clearly, the deep state got to those justices…right? That’s how the Trump and MAGA mind work.
Donald Trump Jr had his wedding paid in part by a Russian oligarch. Many are making a big thing about it. But c’mon, man, you know how expensive weddings are. And Donald Trump Jr barely has a crypto to his name. Sad face. So happy that a Russian oligarch was there to bail those young lovers out. I’m sure there’s no sweet deal going on there, no reciprocity expected, no politics, scheming, and conning involved. No, this was just an oligarch being magnanimous to the billionaire president’s poor son.
Besides, it’s not like the wedding was a lavish affair. Like most Americans, it was a small thing, involving only friends and family, lasting only three days, held on two private islands, with a fireworks show.
I’m sure that Americans struggling with food and gas security, worrying about paying off credit card bills, coping with the rising cost of healthcare, gas, water, and utilities totally understand.
“Simply put,” the board “cannot install memorials for President Trump or anyone or anything else at the Kennedy Center without Congress’s blessing.”
Thank you, Judge Cooper.
Too bad someone couldn’t tell Trump that Congress needs to approve what he does with the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool and the White House east wing.
For the record, Trump’s Iran War continues, driving up inflation, causing death, and costing our nation and world.
With things going so poorly for Donald Trump on multiple fronts, I expect some fresh AI-generated posting featuring Trump as someone else who is more respected and admired than him. Either that, or he’ll launch more military attacks, screw up another monument or Federal building, or complain about how much he’s not appreciated. Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! never rests.
Busy day ahead for me. Don’t get me wrong — I have a cushy life. ‘Busy’ means medical, dental, and haircut appointments, and I’m always staying busy with writing. Reading, too, as I’m trying to finish reading “John of John” before the library summons me to return the book. And house and yard work.
Thinking about being wrong, as in, “Trump is always so wrong”, as in war, tariffs, economy, manufacturing, grass, AI, history, intelligence…I have Dr John’s 1973 song in mind. “Right Place, Wrong Time” is a fun blend of rock, pop, R&B and funk. He has a lot of fun with the lyrics.
Love the trombone player in this video. She’s enjoying herself.
Sample Lyrics
I been the right place But it must have been the wrong time My head was in a place But I’m having such a good time I been running trying to get hung up in my mind Got to give myself a little talking to this time
Just need a little brain salad surgery Got to cure this insecurity I been in the wrong place But it must have been the right time I been in the right place But it must have been the wrong song
I been in the right vein But it seems like the wrong arm I been in the right world But it seems wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong
Slipping, dodging, sneaking Creeping hiding out down the street See me life shaking with every who I meet Refried confusion is making itself clear Wonder which way do I go to get on out of here
Time to go out and see the world and let the world view me again.
May this day pass for you in comfort and security, perhaps with a little booze.
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.”
