It’s Sunday, September 22, 2024. First day of autumn, aka fall, in the northern latitudes. Sumumn is still visiting Ashlandia. Chilly last night at 52 F at our place, the high will pop into the low 80s F today. A relatively windless day, sunshine baths a blue sky where lonely moon offers a pale version of its waning self high in the western sky.
Haven’t read any news this morning. Was just involved with other matters and felt no great urge to jump into war, disasters, politics, tragedy, or weather. I instead read more of my library book, Slough House, by Mick Herron. Entertaining and distracting, it’s just what I required with my Sunday morning cuppa coffee.
Although I’ve been reading about bots and AI off and on recently, a cat inspired today’s song. Messing around with Papi, the ginger blade, so named because of his slender shape, brought the song up. Papi is well established in his ways. After eating, he washes up and then comes for some skrive, which is flooflish for sritch-love. He only stays about eight minutes and then abruptly whirls and leaves. As he departed today, I told him, “Domo arigatō,” after he left the session, continuing, “I appreciate the visit. Come again.”
Click, The Neurons recalled “Mr. Roboto” by Styx and began playing it in the morning mental music stream (Trademark rusty). The song, which seems like it’s about a man who is a robot, came out in 1983. I was stationed on Okinawa, Japan in 1983. As with many Americans stationed over there in the military, domo arigatō was one of several common Japanese expressions we’d learned as part of that experience. So that song was instantly and hugely popular with a segment of the personnel. Later, I had a young friend when were stationed in Germany who loved this song. He’d played the drums and keyboards, sing the lyrics, and act as a robot during parts of it. Yes, a crazy, memorable dude.
Enjoy your day, stay strong, be positive, and vote blue in 2024. Here’s the music, and awaaayyy we go. Cheers
Ah, Monday, September 16, 2024, a day of conflicting energy. We’re sleepwalking through summer’s last days in the nothern atmo, at least in Ashlandia’s tiny, tiny slice of it. Autumn is fast closing in, rendering the weather as a short season called sumumn.
As it’s Monday, people must endure the back-to-work energy and the commutes and setups and activities so associated with beginning a new work week. September has piqued and we’re slipping down its backside. The brings the month and the week different energies, but it’s also the last month of the third quarter, with yet other energies. And school has swung into gear, with its activities and demands. These all crash together like a restless sea.
Sumumn has brought his cool night temps. It’s ranging around 56 F at this moment. Clouds and blue skies are mixing it up. Rained last night, leaving us with wet foliage and earth. Angles, distance, and clouds force the sun to work harder to get some heat and light to us. Gonna peak in the upper sixties on the thermometer’s top end.
We’re all talking about the second assassination attempt on Trump. We wonder if the right wing’s continual threats of violence and their stated determination to take us back fifty years socially, blended with many on the right stating how much they hate Democrats, Liberals, and Progressives, could be triggering others to take action. Imagine the lasting infamy which would be attained for a bent individual if they could claim the title of The Man Who Shot Donald J. I don’t want Trump assassinated; don’t think it would be good for the world’s political dynamics. But I do wonder how much of his hateful rhetoric affects the situation. Then again, that reasoning irritates me as it reeks of ‘blame the victim’ mentality. Yes, I’m in a sore spot over it.
Trump will likely harvest a few sympathy votes from this latest attempt. Some will also christen him as tough and brave, and that’ll win their votes. I remain focused on the man’s character flaws, multiple lies, confused speechs, broken values, and lack of coherent, substantial policies to make my voting decisions.
Now, I admit that on the last, he seems to have a group backing him with very coherent and substantial policy ideas in the form of Project 2025. But Trump is trying to distance himself from that after the American people reacted to it like a load of crap-filled diapers. Which is probably why Trump lacks coherent and substantial policies; he can’t say they’re good ideas because most voters hate those idas and would vote against him. Trump is cunning enough to understand that.
Moving on.
Today’s song has been played here before. But, once The Neurons have made their play choice, they’re like a toddler, demanding to play it over and over again, making me feel a little nuts. So it is today that the theme music comes via John Fogerty and Creedence Clearwater Revival, aka CCR or C.C.R. Their 1971 song, “Have You Ever Seen the Rain” has a lock on the morning mental music stream (Trademark wet).
The song isn’t really about the weather, but about the depression and tension the group members were feeling even as the band achieved greater success. In a way, that metaphor about rain and weather can be applied to the U.S., that even as we taxed the rich and built our infrastructure, financed public education, and ensured everyone’s right to vote was realized and protected, forces within the nation were becoming dissillusioned and delusional, leading us to the polarizing facturing we now face. Will it break up the band (the nation)?
Be strong, stay positive, and vote blue in 2024. Vote against Project 2025. Vote against taking away people’s voting rights. Vote for protecting the environment and addressing climate change.
Here’s the music. Uintentionally ironically, it’s Fogerty playing it without CCR in 2005. Cheers
Today is Thursday, September 12, 2024. A chilly morning here in Ashlandia, the rain has stopped and the sun is crowning over obstacles, trying to toast us a little today. Right now, it’s 54 F, and the high won’t wander much more than the low seventies.
Yesterday was supposed to see us in the upper seventies. We never made that mark at my place. When I was out writing, rain was dumping on the intersection where the coffee shop sits. Like, wow, very cool to see the silver bullets splashing up on the soaked asphalt and cement. Heavy streams built up fast, gushing into sewers. But driving home, just a four minute event, I was quickly out of the rain; we didn’t see that rain event at our place. Weather can be fickle like that.
The cats took to the rain like cats who don’t like water. After some feeble efforts to assert himself as an outdoor animal, Papi stretched out in front of the fireplace. Although it wasn’t on, it has a pilot light when I lit a few days ago, so it emits some heat. He stayed there for hours, deeply asleep. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) on the other hand headed for the bed and sacked out.
Last night at the beer gathering, a small group ended up discussing birds. One asked about robins and their migration habits. Like me, he’d been taught in grade school that robins fly away for the winter. Like many life aspects, it gets more complicated than that. Our retired biology professor recounted that a friend of his did several bird counts at a slough for several years and discoverved exactly where the local robin population went each winter, living off various winter berries.
Other than that, we talked about the election and the debate, and the vice president’s pearl earrings. You now, on the right, they believe those were audio devices, giving Vice President Harris an affair advantage over Trump. That’s why he did so poorly. Because how else could he have done so poorly when she did so well? Yes, that was morning snark, undiluted by coffee.
The Neurons fired up Stevie Ray Vaughn and Double Trouble from 1989 in the morning mental music stream (Trademark caught). The song is “Crossfire”. It seemed to come into mind as I gazed across the valley. The air feels like autumn but most of the trees didn’t get the text in this area. And then I just sort of mused about how we were caught between the two seasons. And ‘lo, “Crossfire” began playing. I always particularly enjoyed the lines, “Money tight, nothing for free. Won’t somebody come and rescue me.” Used to sort of identify with it.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote blue in 2024. Breakfast has been consumed; so has some coffee. Time to get up and do things. Here’s the music. Cheers
Autumn was hulking against the house by the back door, sometimes gently tapping to come in. I opened the door. A lush gush waltzed in and danced around the room.
I’ve decided that I like autumn better than summer and winter. Winter and summer are fickle about their temperatures and weather offerings. Autumn seems more relaxed and straightforward about it. Yes, warm days will come, with some soaring temperatures which somehow complements a view of autumnal foliage against a blue sky. Mostly, though, memories of autumn has me anticipated a level stream of gently declining temperatures as tree shed their leaves and winter begins gracing us.
It’s Wednesday, 9/11/2024. A moment to remember that morning, seared into so many of our brains, sharp-edged memories formed as our daily routines were put on hold and we watched our televisions.
It’s 55 F at my house. My wife was up early to get ready for her exercise class. She told me after I got up that she came in and whispered to me, “It’s raining,” but I was deeply asleep and did not hear.
A little later, Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah), shouted, “It’s raining and I’m hungry and get up and feed me.” Which I did.
Ah, rain. Small drops, lighty falling, wetting everything, and releasing gases that waft up to us and awakens rain memories. The smell is so rich.
Our air is so clear and fresh this morning. Purple has the readings around me in single digits. Airnow.gov has us at 25.
Today’s high will be in the upper sixties.
I’m looking forward to having something done about my injured foot. Although I wear my brace when I’m out and about, strange complaints and sharp pains will jump out. “Hey, don’t bend me that way,” it yells. “Watch where you’re stepping. You want pain, I’ll give you pain.” I know, it’s a very small thing to endure compare to what many others suffer. I’m just a whiner.
I’m not going to comment much on the debate last night. I will say that my personal confidence and hope that Kamala Harris becomes POTUS number 47 pole-vaulted into new levels.
With the debate and the rain and season shift, The Neurons have plugged a Steve Perry song into the morning mental music stream (Trademark gone). “Oh Sherrie” was released in 1984. I don’t know why it’s in my head this morning. I can’t trace a relationship to anything that I thought, did, or dreamed. It’s just there as I walked into the office, coffee cup in hand, swallowing the last of a fig, and gazed out the window at the green mountains, flat gray sky, and cautiously falling rain. The Neurons work in mysterious ways.
Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue in 2024. Coffee is half gone. Here’s the music video — Steve Perry with Journey playing his hit single. Cheers
It feels like a diluted summer day. An archapelago of gray fuzzed small white clouds spill across the sky. Today’s blue is diluted into a pale hue. Weirdly feels like rain is possible in the cold mountain air shouldering me through the window. But it’s 70 F at my house and will top off at 99 F.
Of course, summer is on its heels. Autumn is crowding in again. This is Friday, September 6, 2024. Diluted, the door is also pregnant with a sense of finality. I don’t know what pseudo psycho-quantum vibes has me feeling that.
I read my fill of the story about the Apalachee school shooting. The alarm buttons in the IDs. The congratulations that the system worked and kept the loss of life down, spoken without irony. The continued reporting that the system failed because the kid had been investigated by the FBI who couldn’t tie him to the social media threats he’d previously made about carrying out a school shooting. The later news that the father had been arrested for his role after giving his son the murder weapon for a gift — after the child had been investigated for making the threats.
The wonder,the murder weapon was a Christmas present.Ho, ho, fucking, ho. Peace on Earth, goodwill toward men. Anyone care to bet that it was part of a Black Friday special? How sinisterly ugly is that?
The wonder, what were the dynamics in that household, with the kid allegedly making these threats and also apparently asking for mental health help, and Dad giving his boy, a troubled 14 year old, a killing machine? The wonder, what is the truth, and will this shit ever change?
Bet there are a lot of hopes and prayers being offered the family of the dead. They can take those hopes and prayers and add five dollars and have a coffee at Starbucks as they grieve.
All this has The Neurons playing “Once In A Lifetime” by the Talking Heads in the morning mental music stream (Trademark cracked). The 1981 song has a refrain that goes, “Same as it ever was. Same it ever was.”
You get where I’m coming from. I mean, mass shootings are a recurring part of the U.S. news scene. And let’s not overlook the other shootings. Children accidently killing themselves or another child because they found Mommy’s gun.
Let’s not overlook how frequently police officers are being ambushed and killed with firearms.
Yeah, but we don’t have a problem. Thoughts and prayers will take care of that shit.
“But I think when you talk about the kind of numbers that I’m talking about — that, because look, child care is child care, couldn’t — you know, there’s something — you have to have it in this country. You have to have it. But when you talk about those numbers, compared to the kind of numbers that I’m talking about by taxing foreign nations at levels that they’re not used to. But they’ll get used to it very quickly. And it’s not going to stop them from doing business with us. But they’ll have a very substantial tax when they send product into our country. Those numbers are so much bigger than any numbers that we’re talking about, including child care, that it’s going to take care. We’re going to have — I look forward to having no deficits within a fairly short period of time, coupled with the reductions that I told you about on waste and fraud and all of the other things that are going on in our country.“
And nothing in the rest of the answer will stop the swirl of ‘what is he talking about’ that’s circulating around many people’s head.
Also, though, I’m amused by the cognitive dissonance needed for this question to be asked in the first place. Project 2025’s architects wants women to return to the home and take care of the family. She won’t be working; ergo, child care isn’t needed in their heads. Plus, they want to remove barriers against children working. So the child won’t need anyone to take care of them, because Mom will be home, or when the child is old enough, they’ll be at work to help support the family, which will be needed now that Mom doesn’t work.
Asking Trump, which Project 2025 specifically mentions throughout its contents, with many of the authors directly tied to him, what he’s going to do to help with child care costs for working women, demonstrates that some folks just aren’t paying attention.
Hah, same as it ever was, right?
Pause. Or maybe the person asking the question knew and got the answer that they wanted: he’s not thining about it, and is incapable of forming a coherent sentence about it. If so, brava to her.
Alright, let’s roll on. Be strong and stout and positive, and vote blue. Here’s the music. Cheers
Can you believe it? It’s already Monday in America. September 2, 2024. Labor Day.
Windows are parted to invite the outside in. Right now, a distant chain saw whines and screams. A single car motors past as lawn mower mutters and roars. Voices which seem male carry across the air. A gas leaf blower is powered up and voices its song.
It’s cool air these machines violate, just stealing through the fifties as the sun arcs over trees and mountains, surmounting a flawless blue sky. Today’s high will see a descent from yesterday’s highs. We saw 100 at home, a surprise when forecasts called for 94. The net variously reported the high at 96 and 98 F yesterday. Today’s rise will see us through into the bottom 80s. Same is exected for tomorrow but the rest of the week will see high summer heat.
Meanwhile, trees are dancing in new autumn foliage already. Our tree’s dark green leaves already has lemon yellow clumps of leaves dotting the boughs.
Continuing with a night theme, The Neurons reprised Corey Hart’s 1983 song, “Sunglasss At Night”, and have it circulating in the morning mental music stream (Trademark deep sixed). It’s a new wave techno pop hit with 1980s stylization. Blowing out of FM stereo in a car, inspiration for the young, including me, was almost instantaneous. Especially at night. But it’s true pop, nothing deep.
Stay positive, remain strong, vote blue, and let’s move on to a brighter future. Work needs to be done to make that happen. I got my coffee; here’s the music. Cheers
The pendulum is swinging. It’s Friday, August 30, 2024, and the hours of daylight have noticeably reduced. It’s an advantage at sun soars through blue cloudless skies, working with the air to lift the temperature next to triple digits during the day, like 97 F today. But then the clear skies and longer night lets the temps skivvy down to the upper fifties, delivering relief. Slips of autumn have climbed back into my life. Some maples have shifted into fall fashions. Starbucks is offering fall drinks. School is back is session at every level locally. And football is again rolling across TV screens, carrying news through feeds.
But first: we must get through Labor Day. In the U.S., we have the bookend holidays of Memorial Day and Labor Day. To many, MD marks summer’s unofficial beginning, and LD is the unofficial end.
I read several news articles in depth this morning. One was about how Republicans have softened their climate change stance. They rarely outright deny it these days. I guess that with so much extreme weather killing and maiming our world, they recognize that they look and sound like fools when they do. Instead, they like to problemtize the solutions which Democrats — and much of the world — recommends. Like moving to more sustainable forms such as wind and solar. No, these caus more problems, they inform their constituents, even as they lie about what’s happening.
Last day of my theme of time in the song’s title. As many of age and are forced to cope with changes, we lament the same thing. The Neurons brought the song that asks the question into the morning mental music stream (Trademark timed): “Where Have All the Good Times Gone?” It originally popped onto the rock music scene in the hands of the Kinks in 1965. It’s since been covered by a chunk of performers, most notably Bowie and Van Halen. But I stayed with the Kinks for this day. Ray Davies of the Kinks wrote it and said in an interview:
“We’d been rehearsing ‘Where Have All the Good Times Gone’ and our tour manager at the time, who was a lot older than us, said, ‘That’s a song a 40-year-old would write. I don’t know where you get that from.’ But I was taking inspiration from older people around me. I’d been watching them in the pubs, talking about taxes and job opportunities.”
Ah, Sunday, December 10, 2023. The fog has lifted and spread out into a thin layer in some northern spaces of the valley. Break out the rain gear again, though, as more is on the way. Also be sure to wear some warm clothes. 34 F now, cloudy skies and a chance of 50 F as the high in Ashlandia, where the people can be pretty remarkable, sometimes.
It’s concert weekend. Rogue Valley Symphonic concert has their holiday offering going on, as to the Siskiyou singers. My wife attended the latter’s concert yesterday, one of three, and we’ll hit the symphonic offering today. Then the RVS has a thank you/support by invitation event, for $20, at a local store. I’m not attending that, as the store offers substantial discounts and I’m not a shopping individual, so my wife and a friend who likes shopping will be attending. Later this week is a friend’s 75 birthday celebration, and then a tradition Swedish smorgabord is scheduled for Saturday. There’s a lot of food to be eaten this week.
The Neurons had nothing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark eaten by the dog), so I turned to the net. I found an article on the NYTimes called, “Best Songs of 2023”. First up is Allison Russell with “Eve Was Black”. I’d never heard of it or it, which embarresses me. Looking it up, I enjoyed it, so I’m offering it to you. I’m offering a recording of her playing it live at Farm Aid 2023, as I like seeing the musicians’ skills on display. It is different from the studio version, so I added it, too, after some thought. Hope you enjoy the song as much as I did.
Be safe, stay positive, and leeeaaannn forward. Coffee is in hand — I’ve even had a few sips. Here’s the video. Cheers
It’s 39 F outside in Ashlandia, where the skies are cloudy all day. Clouds smudged with dark shadows collide above, smothering sunshine, undermining warm temperatures, and dribbling and spittin’ on us. It’s Thursday, November’s final day of 2023, i.e., the 30th. Tomorrow, we take it to December, and December brings it to us. It’s getting darker and colder as the day slides into afternoon, like fall is ready to surrender to winter.
I’ve been reading many news articles, ranging from straightforward local news to updates on various trials and political issues, elections, war, disasters, science, and technology. Many of these things are wearying as so much of it has been written about with little changing; I await endings just to give me a break. I suppose I could take a break from it all but I appear to edge toward being obsessive compulsive about some of it.
The most exciting news to me was a story in the NYT about six planets orbiting in resonance around a star 100 light years away. Twelve telescopes were used to observe this and put it all together. Scientists say that such orbits in a solar system takes place “1% of 1%” of the time. They believe that when planets form and the solar systems begin, this resonance happens but then events take place to disrupt the orbits. Finding a solar system like this provides them an opportunity to study how the orbits change, a sensational learning opportunity.
For theme music today, The Neurons have installed OneRepublic with “Secrets” (2009) in the morning mental music stream (Trademark treacherous). This all comes down to the manifest insincerity I read about in so many news articles about complex issues. It’s a large catalyst to the weariness coming down on me. I mean, it’s one thing to read about issues but quite enough to gag through loads of insincerity presented in the articles. See, a line in the song goes “I’m sick of all the insincere”. That’s where the connection comes up.
Let’s take Senator Tommy Tuberville of Alabama, ex-college football coach. He seems to live in Florida, according to records.
“As of last month, Tommy Tuberville did not own a single square foot of property in Alabama after selling parcels in Macon and Tallapoosa counties for $1.4 million, according to a Washington Post report published Thursday.
“And while a spokesman for Alabama’s senior senator maintained to the Post that Tuberville’s primary residence is an Auburn house owned by his wife and son, campaign finance documents and property records suggest Tuberville’s main home is in Santa Rosa Beach, Florida, the paper reported.“
“The sale of the Alabama properties were notarized by a Santa Rosa Beach resident, which the Post reported suggested the senator was in Florida when the transaction went through on July 14.
“The report went on to say that Tuberville’s wife, Suzanne Tuberville, is a licensed real estate agent in Florida and has worked for a Santa Rosa Beach real estate firm since the start of the year. She does not have an Alabama real estate license, according to the Post.”
Senator and Mrs. Tuberville sound like fine Alabama citizens, perfect reps of their people, even if they don’t seem to live among their people, don’t they? (Yes, that could have been snark.)
It bothers me even if his constituents aren’t concerned because it strikes me as counter to the ideal of a representative democracy and the founders’ vision about what they were trying to create in their idea of a government by and for the people. It’s another ethics lapse for Tommy T in my mind, but then I’m predisposed against him.
Some of my reasoning against him is that he’s holding up military promotions, basically having a hissy fit and behaving as a terrorist to coerce change on the military while undermining the US military’s strength and stability. That’s particularly galling becaue he claims he’s a great supporter of the military. Of course, he’s never served, because the military isn’t that important to him. (Yes, I definitely detect snark there.)
Tuberville so supports the military that he founded the Tommy Tuberville Foundation “to recognize and support organizations and causes that connect with the beliefs and values of the Tuberville family: assisting our military and veterans; awareness, education and prevention of health issues, particularly among women and children; and, education and community initiatives.”
“Through its first five years, the foundation raised $289,599 but spent just $51,658 on charitable causes, tax records showed.[56]This rate of 18% is less than the 65% that the Better Business Bureau says ethical charities should spend on their causes.[57] In 2020, the Associated Press called the Tuberville Foundation “a questionable charity that raises money but gives very little away”.[58] Foundation officials said the tax filings did not reflect volunteer labor and donated materials used to refurbish veterans’ homes.[59]
“In 2020, The New York Times reported that Tuberville campaign and foundation officials “produced internal records for 2018 that showed nearly $20,000 was raised for a temporary project to provide a retreat for veterans. But the records raised bookkeeping questions, since they showed more than $61,000 of 2018 revenue, roughly twice what the charity reported to the I.R.S. that year”.[60]
In 2021, the Washington Post reported, the foundation “reported it had $74,101 in revenue and spent just 12 percent of that, or $9,000, while $32,000 went to administrative costs (including nearly $12,400 to pay off a truck the charity purchased in 2018 for $27,369)”.[61] By the end of 2021, the foundation’s website had gone defunct.[62]
“In July 2023, a spokesperson for Tuberville said that the foundation had been under audit and had paused its activities, but that Tuberville was reforming it.[61]“
h/t to Wikipedia.org, emphasis mine.
Do you get how I mean that reading about Tuberville reeks with insincerity that fills me with nausea?
Anyway, have a better day, stay positive, be strong, and lean forward. Coffee has been slurped up on my end, and I’m ready to sit inside and take on the cold rain.
Michael Seidel, writer 