Sunday’s Theme Music — Caring

Ashland, southern Oregon — Sunday, October 25, 2026.

A dull sky hangs on as the sun struggles with heating and lighting, product of the Earth’s tilt and annual trip around the sun. 56 F now, it doesn’t feel that warm. Most of the trees are losing their leaves in my area. The leaves which remain glow gold against the overcast sky.

We attended a party for a friend’s 90th birthday. Her sister came up from California and hosted the party. They rented a large house in the country where all the family members stayed. Very good time by all. The woman, Anne, seemed like she was about 74 years old instead of 90.

On the negative side of the daily ledger, two friends tested positive for COVID. He suffers from Parkinsons and broke his hip. After three pins were put in it to fix it, he’s convalescing in an assisted living facility until he’s able to get around on his own. She, his wife, tested positive after him. We believe he caught it form staff or a visitor, and she picked it up from him. Not a fun way for them to end October.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Just a reminder of Trump’s response to COVID-19 and the pandemic. Six years later, and COVID-19 is still here.

Over in politics, Trump is becoming more openly aggressive and partisan. Through DOJ, Donald Trump threatened to investigate Alaska’s election results if a Republican doesn’t win. Within a day, Donald Trump himself warned that he would probably not do anything to help South Carolina in his official capacities if a Republican doesn’t win there.

Bottom line for all this: Trump cares nothing about the law. Yes, already well established. Nor does he care about Americans, including MAGA and Republicans. That’s clear as well now, because he would obviously try to help Republicans and MAGA even if it’s not a Republican representing them. But with the same certainty that the sun is hot, DJ Trump cares nothing except himself. End of story.

As October ends, I fully anticipate an ‘October surprise’. What will Trump do? Declare another emergency? Launch another wave of ICE assaults on US cities and citizens?

Both of those possibilities are within his wheelhouse. Trump may also orchestrate another ‘assassination attempt’ on him in an attempt to garner some sympathy votes.

Just as likely, Donald Trump, who claims he’s a peace president, will attack another nation, or increase his attacks on Iran. I can imagine Trump warning that he’s going to go nuclear, too, just to distract everyone and get their attention. Because this is Donald Trump. He doesn’t care what happens to anyone except Donald Trump.

Sure. Trump is ‘unifying’ people by threatening states and lawsuits if they don’t vote his way.

I’ll keep saying it and writing it because there are still some out there who think that Donald Trump cares about them: Donald Trump cares about nobody except himself. Until everyone out there agrees, Trump cares for no one except himself, and states it out loud, I’ll keep repeating it.

In honor of Trump’s attitude, Les Neurons installed Phil Collins’ classic song about caring in my morning mental music stream. “I Don’t Care Anymore” in 1983. Some of the song’s lyrics beautifully reflect what I think when I hear Trump these days.

Sample Lyrics

I don’t care what you say
We never played by the same rules anyway

Of course, while I don’t care about Trump and his lies, I must care about what he does and how he damages our nation, and the world. It’s a matter of collective security and future wellbeing. I care that others have equal rights, freedom, and the vision of a functioning and healthy democracy. Closer to home, I share the anger and frustrations that my wife, sisters, and female friends express about women’s rights and protections being stripped away by Trump. I share, too, the anger that people feel that they’re expected to work at multiple jobs in order to just survive while Trump keeps handicapping them with his callousness, greed, hate, and stupidity. It’s just fucking wrong.

May you be surrounded by caring friends and family and enjoy a carefree day.

Cheers

Thursday’s Theme Music — My wave

Ashland, southern Oregon — Thursday, October 22, 2026.

Lovely wet autumn day. The low gray sky makes the trees’ leaves glow with color. It smells fresh and cool. 54 F now, I think the high is almost at hand.

Despite my enjoyment of our rainy weather, I’m disappointed in many aspects of my existence. These are somewhat ‘first world blues’. I don’t have complaints about food, health, my home, wife, or friends. I’ve been spared a lot of discomfort. Yet, here I sit…

Mom continues calling and texting me to complain about my sister. Nothing I can do about it; my sister knows about Mom’s complaints. As Mom tells me, she told my sister about them.

I’m purchasing an Amazon gift card to help offset some of Mom’s expenses. Another sister, Lisa, has agreed to visit Mom and help Mom with the card. I’ve also ordered flowers for Mom and sent a card. I’m working on some kind of cake or cupcakes to be delivered on her birthday, as well, hopefully something large enough for Mom to share with the other residents.

It’s depressing to admit that Mom has always been a person who complained about things, so this is not new. What’s different now is that she’s living alone and doesn’t have a regular audience. But she often used to call me to complain about things until it reached the point that I told her, all you do is complain. This was over ten years ago. She told me, “Frank says the same thing.” Frank was her partner living with her. My sisters know it better than me, which is why they keep a distance from Mom.

I dislike it, but I see parallels between what’s happening with Mom and what’s happening with our nation with Trump in the Oval Office. Essentially, the situation for me with both represents paths that I foresaw but hoped would not happen.

In Mom’s case, I saw how she functioned and interacted with others. Not a hard pattern to spot. Seeing her physical decline for years, I tried getting her different help to come and help her at her home. Mom always resisted. Now, through her behavior and choices, she’s at a spot of her own making. Yet, she refuses to see her complicity in her current situation.

Likewise, we saw the slow movement toward Trump. Enabled by the two-party system, the lack of term limits and the willingness of each party to expand the president’s power slowly brought us here. Elected officials who are supposed to be servants of We the People are often treated as celebrities and given privileges and rights the rest of us can’t have. They have private gyms and dining rooms, a healthcare system that caters to them, high salaries, and tax breaks.

Many individuals elected to the US Congress become millionaires. Seventy-three senators are millionaires in our current congress. 195 to 220 representatives in the US House of Representatives are millionaires.

It’s hard not to see from the trends that many in Congress become reactive instead of proactive. They vote to keep themselves and their party in office. It seems more and more often in this century that they’re voting to enrich themselves to the detriment of We the People, our nation, and the world.

Eavesdropping as they always do, The Neurons contributed “My Wave” to my morning mental music stream. This is a 1996 Soundgarden offering. Fits my mood.

My hope and wish for you is that you have good things happen to you and yours today and everyday.

Cheers

Tuesday’s Theme Music — Jail

Ashland, southern Oregon — Tuesday, July 14, 2026.

Gonna be hot today, probably 96. Reached 96 yesterday, too. Today’s sky offers blue, blue, blue, and blue wherever you look. It’s a comfortable 74 degrees F right now with a mild breeze gracing us.

It’s the birthday for one of my younger cousins today, but she passed away from cancer several years ago. I remember her with fondness for who she was, sadness for her reduced life and the disease she endured.

Trump announced another blockade of the Strait of Hormuz in conjunction with his war on Iran. Then Trump said that he was going to charge ships a 20% fee to go through, something well-established as illegal.

Then Trump TACOed and rescinded that announcement.

I suspect it was just another Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! move. Keep us distracted from his many failures and setbacks, such as that other distraction, the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool fiasco, and that mess called the Epstein Ballroom, sartorially named after Trump’s good friend.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Judge Kathleen Williams blocked Trump’s sweeping IRS settlement. If you remember, Trump sued the IRS, demanding $10,000,000,000 in damages. The DOJ announced a settlement between the IRS and Treasury in which a victim fund of $1.47B was established to be paid out. It also said the IRS agreed never to audit Trump and his family and their businesses or tax returns.

Judge Williams found some problems with the settlement.

I read her 56-page ruling yesterday, skipping many of the footnotes and some of the legal precedents. Fun read, though.

The Federal judge said this is a case of Trump against Trump, with Trump controlling both sides. She cited Trump’s early Executive Orders when he took office for his second term, noting that he made it clear that he was in charge of the executive branch and all of its offices, personnel, and decisions. As the case pitted the Treasury against the IRS and both of them are part of the Executive Branch, and Trump controls both, it’s like arguing with yourself.

Judge Williams also went on to note the lack of evidence, documentation, and statements made by the defendants. All this pointed to a lack of adversity, so the two sides were not arguing about anything. There were also a few comments made about the lawyers, and things the lawyers said in testimony to Congress and public statements.

Along with all that, she found the fund they established as a ‘settlement’ made no sense, because it awarded money to be given to parties unrelated to the lawsuit, and it established no means for controlling it.

I like the way that Judge Williams put it after laying out her reasoning:

“The Parties used the existence of federal litigation as a means of conferring
legitimacy upon a course of action that they were unwilling to subject to judicial review.
The context of the “settlement,” the relationships of the people involved in negotiating and
approving it, the ethical implications of their conduct, and the Parties’ swift efforts to
dismiss this case after the Court raised fundamental jurisdictional questions all support
this conclusion.”

Other news found the Trump Administration unfreezing money meant for blue states. Trump had the $10B HHS funds for the five states frozen, claiming that they were perpetuating fraud. Standard for Trump, he offered little evidence for his claim and made sweeping allegations.

The affected states sued. A federal judge blocked the freeze and mandated that Trump administration needed to explain why they’d frozen the money and justify their action. Rather than share their thinking, the money was unfrozen.

Trump also finally paid the $5M plus interest Trump owed E. Jean Carroll. A court ruled three years ago that Trump owed her the money for sexually assaulting her in 1996 and defaming her.

After all that, I was thinking about Trump and jail. The Neurons noticed and slotted a Thin Lizzy song into the morning mental music stream, “Jailbreak”. *smile*

I hope this day gives you many reasons to smile and be happy.

Cheers

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Another Wenzda has shifted in. It’s October 22, 2025. We’re getting into October’s last legs. Trees are still lively with colors. That huge old oak across the street hasn’t begun shedding yet. When it does, a blizzard of gold will fall to the winds. Meanwhile, seeing its high golden leaves up against the sky’s purest blue refreshes me, and adds depths to my contemplation of what in the world is going on. Now 46 F with the heater on in the house, sunshine, a front, and clear sky will help Ashlandia breach the low seventies today.

Mosquitoes found in Iceland for the first time, says a headline. Well, surely that’s a one off. They just had some record heat. The story says that Iceland and Antarctica were the only places without skeeters. Now there’s just the southern ice cap. I hear it’s been warming and shrinking, so set your calendars. I evaded stories about bomb threats, cars ramming buildings, and other signs of increasing unrest and violence in the U.S. With familiar weariness, I read about Trump rambling through another nonsensical conversation and temper my rage that this is accepted as okay by GOP senators and his donors and minions. I slipped past war updates from Ukraine and edged around the shooting involving a marshal, ICE, and another person, who was supposed to be ‘an immigrant’. Some flirting was done with the tale of the AWS outage that crashed parts of the web over the last several days. My heart and mind were wary of delving into those stories without coffee’s strength first.

The packing for our trip is done. Papi’s minder moves in tomorrow morning. I will miss my furry orange friend. A taxi will whisk us away like refugees in the night. Fingers crossed, etc., by this time tomorrow we’ll be aloft in one of aerospace machines, heading east for Mom’s birthday, seeing family, etc. Sis sent photos of Mom’s new lair. She included the little electric fake fireplace Mom had in her living room. Mom and Frank bought it an estate sale and were so happy with it. I know Mom will find comfort in having it on, warming the air and her heart.

Dad’s birthday is next week. Day after Mom’s, the day before Mom’s late brother, a few weeks after my late mother-in-law, and a week after my brother-in-law. Anyway, I wrote Dad a letter this morning, thanking him for what he’s done for me, telling him how much I enjoy our telephone conversations and laughing with him, etc. Afterward, The Neurons felt it appropriate to insert Dido’s song, “Thank You”, in the morning mental music stream. So here we go.

May peace and grace find their way back to us. Many wonder if they still exist. I believe it’s still being cultivated in many places where protections are in place to keep it from being smashed. Till then, roll on. Cheers

Munda’s Theme Music

It’s Munda again! July 14, 2025. I don’t know about you, but we’re just ripping through July in Ashlandia. The days and hours whisk by like they’re passing on a blink of light. Some clouds slashed with grays and whites have braved our blue skies. It’s cooler today, peaking at 97 F, and should drop into the sixties at night. Yesterday saw 102.8 F at our place at 5 PM. We’d been doing well without running the A/C but my wife requested it at ten last night. She said that she had to apply something to her face but her face had to be dry, and it wasn’t dry. Nope, because it’s a humid heat. So we ran the air for about thirty minutes.

Our local fire, the Neil Creek, is 20% contained. Smoke is almost non-existent in the taste of today’s air. I’m grateful for that on behalf of my sinuses.

There are six birthays in July in my extended family. Two of those people, though younger than me, have already passed away. Cancer in both cases. Don’t know the specific cancers. A cousin’s birthday is today, my sister’s birthday is tomorrow, and my wife’s birthday is Wenzda.

Some Florida lawmakers visited Trump Concentration Camp Florida. Democrats, of course, found the conditions appalling. Republicans thought them okay, on a par with other ‘detention centers’. “Nothing to see here,” Republicans said after going on the guided tours. Just like there’s nothing to see in the Epstein files, right?

I was awakened (names and causes will be omitted) at four AM. Although I felt quite ready to return to sleep after jumping back in bed, my mind began playing a 1987 song, “Night Train”, in my mental music stream. It stayed through for the morning. I’m pretty sure of the cause and effect behind this one. The cat is a night train. And someone (hi, Ark) mentioned “Night Train” in the comments the other day. I’d not heard the song in yonks so I hunted down a video and watched and listened and thought and remembered. And, as it’s night, I suppose all this made sense to The Neurons and they brought the song up. The lyrics also played into it as I tried ‘guess the time’ and looked for signs of daybreak. “Down on the night train, I feel the starlight steal away, use up a lifetime looking for the break of day.”

Coffee has been introduced into my body once again. Time to get out there and rock the day away. Hope your day rocks you in a good way. Cheers

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Wetwednestating

October’s penultimate day has arrived. Wednesday, October 30, 2024. Less than a week until the election.

It’s a pretty autumn sunrise, a potpourri offering of soft, long clouds decked in faded blues shading into gray, and puffier masses of white with a brooding gray venture. Blue sky is dabbled in with random ideas. Sunrise flecks through in the east, delivering sunshine, lining some urban pieces of buildings, trees, lines, and poles with decorative golden outlines. They come and go in blinks as clouds restlessly shuffle.

My systems declare that it’s 37 F outside the windows. The high will be 51 F. Maybe 52. Maybe 50.

Papi the ginger blade has gone in and out, his testament to the fact that it’s pleasant but cold. Rain…might be coming but buckets won’t be used for the delivery. Scattered and light, I think it’ll be more like we’re being sprayed with cheap water pistols. The kind we used to buy at GC Murphys. They looked like Lugers. Came in red, yellow, green, and blue. I never saw a purple one.

Happy birthday, Dad! Called him Monday and gave him birthday wishes. Thinking of him with fondness today.

My ankle surgery is scheduled today. I feel good. Slept well. A med team rep called yesterday to update schedules and arrangements. I was informed I could have coffee and water until 8:15 AM. So this morning, I rose, made coffee, and chugged that puppy down. Also drank about sixteen ounces of water. I’m happily wired and hydrated. Getting hungry, though. My stomach is used to being served early. Now it’s raising a grumpy head to mutter about being in need of a little something something. Hush, I tell it. Not today.

I start thinking of Wednesday songs.

“Wednesday I’m in Love”

“Wednesday Afternoon”

“I Don’t Like Wednesdays”

“Wednesday Nights (Alright for Fighting)”

“Wednesday Morning Coming Down”

“Pleasant Valley Wednesday”

Yes, none of those are Wednesday songs. They’re for Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays, Mondays.

Only one Wednesday-themed tune eventually drifts out of memory and breaks through the waves of thinking. Called “Wednesday,” more time is needed to summon bits out of other regions of memory. A melody begins, an instrument is weakly heard, pieces of lyrics pop up. More comes together with a little straining. Suddenly there comes a solid female voice. Identification takes a few more minutes.

Oh. Tori Amos. “Wednesday”. Can’t recall what year. More time passes. I drift into thinking about other matters as the cats ask for treats and my wife and I chat. Then The Neurons begin playing more of the reflective Wednesday ditty in the morning mental music stream (Trademark Wednesday). I finally search online to hunt down the full tune. This vexes Der Neurons. “No, no, give us more time,” they shout. “We’ll get it, we’ll get it.”

I spurn their protests. Sure, they’ll get, but it’ll arrive about two AM. I want it now. Those words briefly trigger Queen singing, “I want it all, and I want it now.”

Stay positive, be fresh, remain calm, and carry on. Coffee has carried me to my happy place. Here’s the music. Remember, vote blue. Have a good Wednesday.

Cheers

Monday’s Wandering Thoughts

Dad’s 92nd birthday is Wednesday. Mom’s birthday is tomorrow. I’ll be calling her tomorrow, so I called Dad today, as I’ll be pretty busy Wed. with planned surgery.

Dad and I had one of the best chats I recall having with him. We chatted about aging, financing, and Mom. Very satisfying.

Dad has always been a level guy, staying mellow, keeping things in the moment. He’s never gotten too worked up over any of life’s tumbles and twists. And he’s been through his share.

He’s in okay health. Had some stents put into his coronary arteries some years ago. Suffers some COPD. Went through some edema issues twice. Now he’s on a low sodium diet. A cane is employed to walk around. He sometimes needs a walker.

But we laughed a lot about these things which happen to us as we get older.

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: squeaky

46 F and light rain now, but Wednesday, December 27, 2023, began with a windy assault that took over all the trash receptacles put out for pick up, and a steady rain thrashing us through the night and morning in Ashlandia, where folks are mostly friendly, and the food tastes almost above average. BTW, 46 F is today’s high.

Tucker didn’t mind the rain, closing his mind and eyes against what was happening outside, and remaining inside, a wise approach to handling it. Papi, though, insisted on trying the outer realm, soaking his fur. “How dare you!” he meowed at the world after beating on the window and returning inside. A brief pause by my side so that I could pet and admire him, and then he was off to the kibble bowl to scarf.

A friend’s holiday letter had this paragraph, and I found it cute, humorous, and even inspiring, so I thought it should be shared. Note: Pam is her daughter and is five years older than me.

“Pam managed to get 95 balloons to come sailing into her dining room while we were having my birthday dinner celebration in October. What a riot that was! She personally blew up 35 of them before she ran out of air and wisely got help! We batted one red balloon around the table exactly 95 times before it hit the floor. Great fun!”

A retired dancer and teacher, she’s a sweet and terrific character and wonderful friend, as is Pam, and Pam’s children. Nice to know such people.

The Neurons dumped “Katmandu” by Bob Seger into the morning mental music stream (Trademark dissolved) as I made the bed this morning. Not a bad song at all, but I have no idea what they were thinking when they began playing the song. However, when I saw the holiday letter again on my office desk and read again the tale about the birthday balloons, I issued a veto override and went with “99 Red Balloons” by Nena from 1984. Hah, take that, Neurons.

Stay pos, test negative, be strong, and lean forward. Coffee levels are being replenished as I type. Here’s the music. Cheers

Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: unenthusiastic

Monday came in for me like a snail runnin’ the hundred meters. It’s October 16, 2023.

53 F now in Ashlandia, where the wine is local and the Pinot Noir is pretty damn good. An unrelenting, unhappy wind is assailing us under a dull gray sky. Rain is due. Fall is assuming its familiar form. Leaves changed color and now they’re dropping off trees, piling up again curbs and in yards, and zipping past windows on a zephyr motor.

Birthdays are pending. Cards and gifts must be purchased and sent. October is our family’s heaviest birthday month, with one past and eight due.

Mom’s birthday is one of them. I’m not sure what to get her. Sitting and conversing at Empty Bowls on Friday, someone mentioned something. I said, “Maybe I should get that for Mom for her birthday.”

Beside me, my wife brightned. “That’s a great idea.”

Neither can remember what ‘it’ was. We’re still working on pulling it out of memory. Sometimes it takes two minds to remember things. LOL.

Still sick. Stayed in from writing yesterday. Mostly read and napped, watched some NFL football.

Sore throat is gone; yea. Energy, though, is really tanked. Like someone siphoned it away. Headache was there and ears were hurting this morning. But I drank coffee to kick start my energy. Surprise, the head and ear pains fled. So hurray for coffee, once again.

Locking into my mood, The Neurons have positioned “Ridin’ the Storm Out” by REO Speedwagon into the morning mental music stream (Trademark ignored). The 1981 song emerged when I was stationed with the Air Force on Okinawa, Japan.

Okinawa is a narrow island and subject to typhoons/tropical cyclones. These were often endured with ‘Phoon Parties’. You tape over and board over the windows with what you can find. Then you raid the booze store on base and the Commissary to buy provisions. While the aircraft were evacuated, we prepared to survive a few days, possibly without electricity.

My wife and I were fortunate in our first three years. We had a tiny off-base apartment in a tiny apartment building. The landlords lived on the bottom floor, and a dozen US couples lived in the apartments. During a ‘phoon, we could visit each other via the inside hallways, so we’d play games like Uno, or Trivial Pursuit, or visit to chat and borrows stuff.

Time to light this Monday. Stay pos, be strong, and keep well. Here’s the music. More coffee, stat. Cheers

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