Saturday’s Theme Music – Talking

Saturday, August 29, 2026. Ashland, southern Oregon.

A chilly, cloudy morning. Rumors of rain are trickling around conversations. The sky is mostly blue, hazing toward white and gray as clouds collect. 58 F now, today’s high is expected to top out in the mid 70s.

I’m off to a late posting start because I instead wrote in the novel. Had been thinking about a series of scenes last night. Today, they were just there, so I sat and wrote three thousand words before I did anything except feed the cat.

Mom has responded to my texts about her house and accomplishments by first, thanking me. Her texts then devolved into complaints about how I’m her only child who will talk to her. Then she demanded that I come and visit her. She finished with complaints about the assisted living facility and staff and wished she ‘woke up dead’.

On to news, where it’s here we go again, on the hideous Trump merry-go-round.

A Salon headline kicked things off.

Pete Hegseth’s press crackdown smells like a coverup

Possible cover-ups are in line with the Trump and his administration’s standard functioning. Exhibits offered as evidence:

  • The Epstein files
  • White House ballroom
  • The Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool
  • Hush money to Stormy Daniels
  • USS Abraham Lincoln

Trump and his cabinet insist that everything is great, but they go through acrobatic gyrations whenever they’re challenged. Threats escalate fast on their end. They blame others and insult whomever questions them. They pull credentials, threaten to sue, bluster on social media, and give hostile interviews in which they insist they’re right and everyone else is wrong.

Meanwhile, Trump’s ideas of democracy, freedom, is fully on display. He clearly doesn’t think much of serving We the People. Just wants the power of the office. Nor does he care much about history, treaties, and laws.

Trump has now announced that he secured ‘majority US control’ of much of Venezuela’s oil reserves. This comes after Trump removed Venezuela’s president by force. We the People who pay attention to history remember how regions around the world evolved into dangerous and unstable regions because nations went in, established themselves as the de facto rulers, and then began plundering their national resources.

The United States has long moved toward away from these policies, pushing for democracy. Success is erratic because it’s a messy process, involving wealthy, power, and people. Additionally, the US continued to secretly use the military or CIA to kill. Trump, though, has escalated it, and is doing so blatantly, oblivious to how these policies affect world opinion of the US.

History has shown, these kind of moves often bite us in the ass. For evidence, just look how things have played out in Iran with US intervention.

Today’s theme music is “You Talk Too Much”. This was a hit for Joe Jones in the early 1960s. I was about five years old when I first started hearing it, I think. A popular song, it achieved a lot of air play. It was also song which Mom sang while doing things around the house. She would also sing it to my sisters and I when we were trying to ask her for something. Frankly, that was very irritating.

Sample Lyrics

You talk too much
You worry me to death
You talk too much
You even worry my pet

You just talk…
Talk too much

You talk about people
That you don’t know
You talk about people
Wherever you go

You just talk…
Talk too much

You talk about people
That you’ve never seen
You talk about people
You can make me scream

The Neurons plugged it into the morning mental music stream in honor of Donald Trump. He talks and texts, often before engaging any brain cells. This week after thinking he can change the name of Lake Ontario with the stroke of a pen, he went on to talk about changing the names of other places in like ways.

What Ding Dong Donnie doesn’t understand, either, is that by having the US flex its powers and just do things on whims, he encourages other strong-armed nations to do the same.

What’s funny, though, is how Ding Dong Donnie doesn’t see what he’s done to the world order. He thinks other nations are jealous of us. He was angry — and probably still is, as he is one who likes to indulge in deep sulking — when other nations refused to participant in his Trumped-up war on Iran. He didn’t understand and doesn’t see that he’s burned so many bridges which were carefully build through years of diplomacy, negotiations, and practices.

I correct myself: more than not understanding, Trump doesn’t care.

Trump’s legacy of ego and failures is stacking into one of the world’s ugliest historic periods. Meanwhile, I wish he would shut up. He’s become like a dog barking all night long without reason.

I wish you the best of the best days in every way which you and I can think of.

Cheers

Sunda’s Theme Music

I begin my Sunda with the summer morning ritual. I step out to rebalance my circadian rhythm, feel the air temp, and give it a sniff test. How hot is it now and how much smoke is polluting the air are the dual concerns. Today it’s now 80 F, up from the 71 F holding when I first went out. We’ll be at 103 F today, a few degrees above yesterday’s 99.8 F. The smoke isn’t bad. I water things and close windows, sealing us against whatever nature is plotting against us today. I have learned that by closing the blinds and windows and keeping everything shut, we’ll be 13-15 degrees cooler than outside. We like to use fans to move the air when it warms, as the air conditioning, while cooling, makes our noses run. My wife is one who needs heat anyway.

This is Sunda, July 13, 2025. It’s a cousin’s birthday, but she passed away. Cancer. Cheery morning thought. Then I ate a lucious moderate-sized fig, savoring the experience with a slow chew, trying to be mindful. I don’t think I’m mindful enough. At 69 yo, can I become more mindful?

I jogged yesterday morning. It was a whim and I wasn’t prepared, just testing myself to see how far I could go before my body rebelled. The Fitbit says that was 2.5 miles, surprising me. It felt good. I jog walked home, thinking that I should combine those words and create a word: jolk. Yes, I jolked home, letting my sweat drip dry. No aftereffects strike this morning, knock wood. I thought I’d hurt somewhere.

ICE and wildfires dominates our news feed. Nextdoor reports an ICE vehicle was spotted in Ashlandia yesterday morning about 9:30 on Ashland Street by the cemetery. People advise others to report it on the app. A judge blocked random ICE raids in LA. We’ll see if this is appealed to the Roberts Court and swatted away. A man died from a fall during a chaotic ICE raid.

Getting news of the local fire plaguing us, the Neil Creek fire, is problematic. Something like 72 fires are burning in southern Oregon and northern California. The Neil Creek fire is closest to us but isn’t threatening anything (last heard) and is not large. Media focus is on the big burners. I understand that but my understanding doesn’t alleviate my frustration over lack of Neil Creek fire information. The last updates were days ago. Also, I haven’t seen or heard tankers since yesterday morning. Surely all this must mean good news, right? I finally find a Neil Creek fire update on Watchduty from fourteen hours ago. It’s five percent contained. Then there’s a summary:

Despite increased fire behavior, crews held fire lines with the help of helicopter water drops. Firefighters continue to strengthen lines and expand mop-up around the fire. Along the south end of the fire, crews removed hazardous standing dead trees to allow firefighters to access the southern perimeter safely.

There was an incident in the night. The neighbor’s dog erupted with furious barking. Bear or cougar, my wife thought, hurrying to the back door. She flicked on the lights and opens the door but stays in, leaning out to look around. I get a flashlight. By then the dog’s owner has talked the dog down and quiet has reclaimed the world.

“Overkill” by Men At Work is in the morning mental music stream. It’s all about the line, “I can’t get to sleep.” I awoke sometime in the night a few hours after the barking dog, mulled and dissected a dream and then the writing muses took over. I wrote for a while in my head before I managed to shut them down with a meditation process I use to induce sleep in myself. But the song remains in the morning mental music stream. While looking for a video to use, I found this accoustic version by Colin Hay, the band’s vocalist, where he’s backed by a choir. I thought it a cool difference maker and offer it to you.

Coffee has been sucked up. Time to press on. Hope your day answers your needs. Cheers

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