Wednesday’s Theme Music – Why

Ashland, Oregon — Wednesday, April 1, 2026.

Rainy and 46, sunshine washes our house’s eastern side. Today’s high will be in the mid 50s and the low will drop to 32-35 F.

Mom and sis had a ‘good outing’ yesterday although in retrospect, my sister suspected Mom was trying to manipulate her. After the pharmacy run and Urgent care, Mom asked sis if they could drive by the house. Gina agreed but warned that they weren’t going in. Conversation ensued about how livable the house was but Gina told Mom that she didn’t think Mom could live there alone. Mom remarked that she needed some short-sleeved summer tops. Gina brushed it off but later thought that Mom was trying to get them into the house. We’re sure that if Mom had gotten in there, she would have refused to leave.

UTI was confirmed for Mom, along with blood in her urine. No word on further tests, yet.

I read good news yesterday on Diane Ravitch’s blog. A Federal judge ordered work on the Trump ballroom stopped. The judge questioned whether Trump had the authority to make the changes he was doing. Her second piece of reported good news from last week in that post, “A federal judge ruled on Tuesday that President Trump’s executive order barring the federal funding of NPR and PBS violated the First Amendment.”

Victories for We the People. We know that these decisions will be appealed to a higher court.

Over in the Supreme Court, we’re waiting to see if Trump’s executive order dicing up birthright citizenship and the 14th Amendment is judged legal. Trump attended the proceedings for a bit but left. I’m surprised he stayed awake.

Trump is giving a speech today about the Trump Iran War and about the US leaving NATO. He continues to send my WTF meter spinning with his consistent inconsistency. I suspect this is another ruse to distract from the Epstein files. The war is unpopular, though, and Trump’s approval ratings are showing it.

I also appreciated Paul Krugman’s post about the psychology of military incompetence and Pete Hegseth. I gleefully agree with Krugman: Hegseth is in over his head. Unfortunately, that doesn’t bode well for the safety of our nation or the lives of our people swearing to defend it.

I had a swarm of microdreams last night. When I sat and scribbled what I remembered, The Neurons played “I Got You” in the morning mental music stream. The Split Enz song was a 1980 hit. Reminds me a bit of the Cars. I’m not sure how it related to my thinking, though.

I hope the day goes well for you, no matter what you face or what the news brings.

Cheers

Trump’s Vision: Unhinged, Untethered

I read the NYTimes review of the Trump Ballroom addition to the White House, the addition where Trump tore down the Easat Wing without public approval.

The Times article cited a grand staircase that leads to no entry. Pillars that block the view from inside the ballroom. A building that is too tall and too large for its planned purpose. It was also a building put up without previous engineering and architectural reviews.

A judge ordered construction stopped so reviews could be conducted. Trump responded to a hand-picked panel that unanimously grunted, “Approved” without thinking about any of the 19,000 objections raised.

In many ways, the ballroom is perfectly symbolic of Trump’s decisions.

  • Dismissing medical science, Trump appointed anti-vax people to important positions. With more people encouraged to dismiss childhood vaccinations, measles outbreaks in 2025 climbed to the highest levels seen in decades. 2026 is expected to surpass that mark.
  • Ignoring economic and political history, Trump instituted ’emergency’ tariffs which drove up costs and prices, and which now must be paid back.

All these are like his ballroom: with steps that go nowhere, a confused design that even now, he’s trying to change.

The problem with it all is Trump. He has a maligned vision of what peace, war, unity, and prosperity means, and it’s an unhinged, untethered vision.

The one clear thing we know about Trump from his actions is that he and Jeffrey Epstein were good friends and he’s scared of having details about his Epstein friendship revealed. To that end, he’ll do anything to hide the truth.

Hiding from the truth is what always drives Trump’s unhinged, untethered vision, whether it’s how badly he lost in 2020 or how his popularity is tanking in 2026.

Get ready for more.

The Old Friends Dream

I dreamed that I was with a lot of old friends. People I’d gone to school with, neighborhood friends from my youth, and people I’d worked with around the world while in the Air Force, or working in Progressive Angioplasty Systems, Tyco, Internet Security Systems, and IBM were there. Writing friends were there, along with sports and drinking buddies.

No occasion that I know was mentioned for the gathering. We were just having a big party in an enormous ballroom, a place so large that I couldn’t see the other side. Well-lit, round tables were set with crystal and silver.

Weirdly, I entered after being out with some, and that’s when the dream proper began. I’d been with one person who I no longer wanted to be with. I had no enmity with him, but he was drunk and being obnoxious, so I was avoiding him. As I was skirting where he was, a group of friends streamed in. Seeing me, they shouted, “There he is,” and waved, happy to see me. I joined them, and we chatted, having a good time.

Then Chris suggested we go somewhere. “Where?” I asked.

“Who cares,” he said, with the friendly and easy smile that he habitually presented.

“Let’s go,” I said. “We can take my car, but I don’t want to drive.”

Chris said, “I’ll drive.”

We got into my silver Mazda. I was in the back seat. Setting off, we talked about where to go. Chris came up with a suggestion, but nobody knew where it was. “Use the GPS,” I said. Chris knew how to do that and pressed the buttons needed.

With my next awareness, we were at a more intimate setting. Many of my friends were there in their party clothes, but everyone seemed tired, I think from partying so much. They were barely interested in the music.

And that was amazing, because up on stage was a young Marvin Gaye with a back-up group. All of them were in amazing bright blue outfits with white shirts.

Marvin finished his performance. I looked around, like, why isn’t anyone applauding. As I began clapping, so did someone else. Putting his hands out, Marvin said, “Hey,” and everyone else sat up and applauded.

Then Jeff was by my side. Pointing at Marvin, he said, “He’s wearing a one.”

Yes, the number one was in black on a white porcelain appearing badge that hung down from his shoulders on his front. Seeing Jeff point at him, Marvin came over to speak with us. I was awed to be in such close proximity to such a creative and intelligent person. He was so pleasant and polite. We shook hands and chatted, and then Jeff, pointing again at Marvin, said, “That one is for London Park, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Marvin agreed.

Jeff bobbed his head with enthusiasm. “I was there, I’ve been there.”

Bewildered, I wanted to ask, where’s London Park? I’ve never heard of London Park. How do you know the one is for London Park?

I didn’t get the chance, because that’s where the dream ended.

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