Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: soursmokeworn

Day has broken, smoky and sunny in Ashlandia, where the temperatur is 69 F. The smoke isn’t ours; it’s from one of the many fires burning in California, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, or Canada. Or maybe somewhere else. Or all of them. While the election rushes on, the world turns, the heat increases, the planet dries, and catches fire. While the Olympics parade across our screens, typhoons, hurricanes, and storms take death and destruction to new levels. What isn’t on fire might be flooding, like down in Florida. Just take some time to check out the many ‘natural disasters’ that we’re either recovering from or enduring right now.

It’s Saturday, July 27, 2024. Too late to wake up. It’ll be 89 F in Ashlandia today, not too bad, so long as we don’t drive too far away.

Don’t know what was happening before the moment today when the jay flew in through the bedroom’s open sliding door. The bird landed on the stepping machine and let out a screech. Papi the ginger wonder bounded in after the bird, jumping up onto the bed and orienting to acquire the target. We have a vaulted ceiling in that room so the bird flew across first to the idle fan, perching on a blade, and then to an air vent embedded in the ceiling. Striped ginger tail wildly lashing, Papi leaped from bed to dresser, directly below the bird.

Meanwhile, I’d arisen and was addressing the bird, telling them that they need to get out. Closing doors to the bath and hall, I pushed the slider to its max. Taking the hint, the jay shot out. Papi shot out after it.

I looked out. It was a happy ending with the bird in a tree scolding Papi, and Papi returning to tell me good morning.

Well, with all these fires going on in the news and Trump’s campaign burning like a housefire as GOPers toss fuel on in, and Kamala Harris catching fire with voters and groups, The Neurons pulled up an old song about fire. Called “Sleep Now in the Fire”, the song is burning up my morning mental music stream (Trademark aflame). The 1999 song is about this little rock band called Rage Against the Machine. You tell me what it’s all about.

Be strong, stay positive, lean foreward and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee and I are going at it. Here’s the music. Cheers

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: digitized

Get up and look out windows, judging the air’s color. Doesn’t look too bad. Some tinges of smok. A window is cracked opened. The sniff test is employed. Doesn’t smell too bad. The air feels cold.

I go on out into the living area and office, interrogate Alexa and checking my weather station, and then go online and check weather and air quality. It’s 64, and the AQI is in the sixties, not too bad. Doors and windows are opened and complaining floofs are released.

It’s Tuesday, July 23, 2024. Today’s high will be 96 F, so we’re not too bad. It’s the triple digit stuff that really gets to you.

My wife departs to meet some friends at the Growers Market. Yeah, they don’t use an apostrophe. Sirens erupt. Systems are checked to see, where are they going? What’s going on? I printed out the evacuation checklist yesterday. You know, just in guess. It’s sitting here beside me. We always have basic bags ready but maybe we should prepare the whole shebang. Just in case. It’s hot and dry here. Lightning can strike and ignite something without warning. Something to consider.

Out in the news world, it’s no surprise that the Secret Service Director resigned. They were being hounded and the GOP was openly, sharply hostile. That’s their style.

A headline says, “World registers hottest day ever recorded on July 21”. Wasn’t that hot here in Ashlandia. We seem to be contrarians. The article goes on, “Last year saw four days in a row break the record, from July 3 through July 6, as climate change, driven by the burning of fossil fuels, drove extreme heat across the Northern Hemisphere.

Every month since June 2023 – 13 months in a row – has now ranked as the planet’s hottest since records began, compared with the corresponding month in previous years, Copernicus said.

Some scientists have suggested 2024 could outrank 2023 as the hottest year since records began, as climate change and the El Nino natural weather phenomenon — which ended in April — have pushed temperatures ever higher this year. 

I imagine Republicans pooh-poohing the news and laughing. In this visual, it’s my staunch BIL MAGAt representing them. “It’s the weather,” he says loudly, shrugging, gesturing with his hands. “It’s always changing. It gets hot, it gets cold, big deal. You liberals.”

Yeah, we liberals are worrying about nothing except the increase in record temperatures — high and lows — and the acceleration of extreme weather. We’re worried about increased flooding and wildfires turning the air dark with smoke. We’re worried about increasing extended droughts and melting glaciers.

Tsk. So silly of us.

The music occupying my morning mental music stream (Trademark iffy) owes its presence to my wife. She was online, surfing. “Oh, I like that,” she says.

I do my spousal duty. “What is it?”

“This tee shirt. It says, I am woman, watch me vote.”

“Yes, that’s good.”

The Neurons pounced. I am woman, hear me roar, in numbers too big to ignore, begins. “I Am Woman”. Helen Reddy. 1971. As I often do with celebrities I haven’t heard or seen in a while, I verify her life status. Died in 2020, 78 years old. No cause of death given.

This is life in the digital age.

The song took on its own life as a anthem of female empowerment back in that last century, when the U.S. was becoming a more progressive nation. I was present at a rally in Caifornia when the female protestors spontaneously sang it A capella. Powerful moment down on Market Street in SF.

The house is cool. Thermostat says it’s 76 F inside. Feels good. I go around closing windows, sealing in the cool air for the day.

Be strong, stay positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has endorsed my systems. I’m ready to rock. Here’s the music. Cheers

Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

Earlier this year, the SCOTUS cut down the Chevron decision of 1984 while adjudicating Loper Bright Enterprises et al v. Raimondo, Secretary of Commerce, et al. In the Chevron decision, it was established that courts must defer to federal agencies when it comes to interpreting certain laws. The bent right-wing Roberts Court has now said, “Naw, uh.” The decision significantly changes how Federal regulatory agencies’ decisions are addressed in the judicial system and hamstring the ability to enforce Federal regulatory standards.

As if on cue, Iowa suffered heavy rains and flooding in the northwest corner. Agribusiness is huge there, and one area where Iowa has been pretty laconic is how animal manure is handled. Their solution was to put it in large ponds, creating a fecal soup. Guess what happens when floodwaters overtake fecal ponds? Yes, water drinking supply systems are contaminated.

The same sort of story was told in North Carolina a few years ago after a hurricane caused major flooding, so projections about what Iowa will experience, like skyrocketing e-coli levels, are known. Did Iowa learn from that? Hell, no.

So, to recap, in an age when regulatory enforcement is being blown up, an age where climate change is causing more extreme weather and droughts are endangering the nation’s water supply, the dangers and damages of such lax oversight is clearly demonstrated again and again. And yet, they won’t change, cause — money.

That’s the wisdom of the 21st century GOP.

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Cuspsized

Fog and a cool 58 F greeted Churchill Valley on Wednesday, May 29, 2024. Today’s high will be lucky to break 66 F. Thunderstorms are possible.

Thunderstorms hit us again last night. I was out at my sister’s house for dinner. My BIL was grilling some serious beef, shrimp, and chicken. The smell of rain lingered in the air. Chonky gray clouds cruised overhead.

Rain broke, soft at first, warning shots, but the serious stuff arrive about an hour later. Weather warnings lit the phones. An hour later, the storm had significantly decayed, but I encountered chunks of it while driving home.

I’m on the cusp of heading home. Flight is early tomorrow morning.

My feelings are on a trampoline of reactions. I look forward to being with my wife and fur buds. I look forward to taking on some adulting needs and getting to work on stalled projects.

But I’ll miss Mom and my sisters and BILs, and all the children. Sharing a time zone with them has been very satisfying.

I feel like the nation, even the world, is also on a cusp. Donald Trump’s criminal trial has reached the jury deliberations stage. Analysts, pundits, lawyers, and relatives are all given opinions about the outcome, and why. And then, regardless of the verdict, what’ll happen? We’re on the cusp of finding out.

We’re on summer’s cusp in the northern latitudes. Violent storms have been striking the U.S. Destruction is rising. Travel is disrupted. So are supply chains. 23 are dead in the U.S. People’s power has been cut off. Is this an aberration or the new climate change norm? We’re on cusp of learning.

Israel attacked Rafah on Sunday. ‘All eyes are on Rafah.’ What will happen there next? I’m not arguing the right of Israel to defend itself, the role of the U.S. and other nations, nor the reasons why Hamas launched their attack last October, triggering this latest season of death and destruction. I’m like many, wondering if we’re on the cusp of a greater conflagration.

While we’re at it, Russia continues its assault on Ukraine, and Ukraine fights back. The deaths mount. More NATO resources might get involved. Are we on the cusp of world war? Could this be the cusp of a long-feared nuclear war?

And we’re on the cusp in the U.S. of finding out how extreme the GOP will be to keep people from voting. We’re on the cusp of finding how much of democracy they’re willing to destroy to keep the voters silenced and stay in power.

Looks like we’re on the cusp of a long, historic summer.

Being on the cusp of so many possibilities incited The Neurons to fill the morning mental music (Trademark almost ready) with “Enter Sandman” by Metallic. I can see The Neurons’ reasoning: this summer could be a nightmare, and that’s what the 1991 sound is all ’bout.

Hey, ho, here we go. Be strong, stay safe, be well, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music video. My coffee tank has already been filled.

Cheers

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: fungry (funky and hungry)

Hey, all you gravity bound individuals, welcome to another Friday. This one is 1/26/2024, in case you ever need a more specific reference for it, though you will hear folks when talking about days like this referring to it in other ways at various times, like last Friday, the final Friday, or even ‘today’. In days past, I’ve even heard it call next Friday. It’s all relative.

Sprinter continues. We have a few weather dwarves visiting us today to contribute. Sunny, Foggy, Rainy, and Windy all dropped in. Sunny seemed like they were under the weather, all weak and listless, while Windy acted disoriented, blowing every way that you can imagine in erractic, impulsive gusts. It’s 46 now, and Rainy is out there letting loose off and on while Foggy lingers at the edge and watches. 52 F will be the day’s high.

As for the cats, well, they have declared themselves inside cats for today. Papi is curled up in the living room on the sofa while Tucker has taken the mink blanket in the primary bedroom. Both are softly snoring.

Today’s theme music is inspired by the GOP and Mr Trump, aka TFG. I was reading various articles in which Trump lied. The articles noted the lies and why they were lies. Next was a story I caught about a Trump surrogate urging Nikki Haley to surrender, accusing her of becoming an election denier, which made my eyes roll with incredulous amazement. I watched a video of another Lincoln Project ad, and then read an article in The Hill, “The 6 states facing the most serious groundwater crises.” Out of all of that, I wondered if MAGA supporters will read or watch any of these things and if so, declare them untrue or fake news.

I’ve been fooled by fake news more than once. It seems like checking and re-checking to validate facts is needed when watching television, listening to the radio, or reading the news online. The Neurons came up with the Eurythmics and “Would I Lie to You” from 1985, playing it full throttle in my morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). It’s a robust song, a solid choice for a weak Friday.

Stay pos, be strong, lean forward. Coffee is still available, so I’m drinking it while I can. Here’s the video. Enjoy your Friday. Or this day. Whatever. Cheers

Mom’s House – A Dream

First, this isn’t anything like Mom’s real life house.

I was sleeping in the dream when something awoke me. I stayed in bed listening. Shades were pulled but daylight was growing visible through the slates. I knew I was in Mom’s and I thought I was alone but I was hearing noises downstairs. As I listened, I realized it was one of my younger sisters, so I dressed and went downstairs.

Down there, I found an open door that led to a patio. A man in half-removed black leather clothing was prostrate on the patio. My sister was further out on the patio, busy doing things. We said hello, and then I asked about the man. She said it was my cousin, Rick. (Due to the marriages and divorces, Rick isn’t her cousin.) Rick, half sleep or drunk, said with a grin and eyes barely open, “Yes, it’s me, Rick. I came to see you.” He then went to sleep.

I moved on out onto the patio. I’d need seen this house of Mom’s before, and was amazed. It was a white cement modern design on the ocean’s shore. Sunshine brightly lit the day. The tide was coming in, entertaining me with smells and thunderous cracking sounds. I was pleased and astonished and talked to my sister about this.

But — the house was right on the shore, although there was an elevation down to the sea. The incoming tide was coming closer and closer to the house, slashing the rocks and earth with heavy rolling waves. I worried about the house flooding, and watched until the waves were right at the house’s foundations.

Then something moved on my vision’s edge, flagging my attention: a black and white kitten was cavorting about on a cement piece. It disappeared.

I hustled over to look for it. It was down under white cement bridge trusses, along with another kitten. The second one was playing in the sea water. Horrified, afraid they needed rescued, I leaned further over.

A man and boy were down with the kittens. With me watching, the boy retreated, calling the kittens, who ran after him.

I headed back for Mom’s house. Now I could see more of its exterior broaded slabs of glass and white cement at arty angles, a very modern and interesting design, with several patios, porches, and balconies. I also saw then that the water had completed retreated already. I asked myself, “How did that happen so fast?”

Going over, I spoke with my sister, pointing out the tide threat to the house, because climate change was raising water levels. I showed her where I can see how high the water used to go, and compared it to this latest. My sister was dismissive, answering, “I know, but this is Mom’s house. It’s not my problem.”

I chastised her for that thinking but left. Mom and her partner arrived. We talked about the house but then she mentioned her other house and wanted her partner to go check on it because there’d be a storm early in the week. I volunteered to go with him and we headed for the door. Mom stopped me and said, “Do you need money? I can give you some if you need it.” I graciously turned her down, thanking her as I did.

Her partner and I arrived at another place. Isolated and not nearly as grand as the place which I’d just left, surrounded by mud and puddles, it was also white and modern, although it all looked shabby and dirty. I asked him, “Whose house is this?” When he replied that it belong to him and my mother, I followed up, “You two bought it together?”

“Yes,” he answered.

He and I made our way into the house. There was no furniture. In the kitchen, I discovered warped, damaged cupboards. I pointed these out to him, and he agreed, these needed to be replaced. I found an open window. Showing him, I asked, “Is this always left open?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Well, that’s what’s damaging the inside. That needs to be closed.”

Dream end.

The Breaking News

Sen. Tommy Tuberville drops his hold on hundreds of military nominees

Don’t be misled by the misleading headline for this breaking news. Tuberville still maintains a chokehold on promotions for four-star generals, which are generally (ha, yeah, couldn’t be helped) the most critical senior leadership position.

He’s still a terrorist posing as a Senator, undermining the nation at a critical time as nail-biting situations continue around the world.

“I’m releasing everybody. I still got a hold on I think 11 four-star generals. Everybody else is completely released from me.” Tuberville told reporters. “But other than that, it’s over.”

What bull. What absolute arrogance. He should have never been holding these promotions up. It was political grandstanding and hypocrisy at its worse.

Wish the Florida-living senator from Alabama will get voted out of office but he won’t because he was a college football coach, and Alabama loves its football. He’s an empty head, parroting MAGA points, standing with Trump in calling the 2020 POTUS election “stolen”, and fighting against climate change legislation because he doesn’t think it’ll amount to anything for the next 400 years. Just like Trump, he knows better than the military; he knows better than the scientists and refuses to believe any evidence presented to him.

So just remember Tuberville when the extreme weather increases and causes more damages and deaths, when hurricanes ramp up faster and become more intense, wildfires strike more states, and drought causes more water shortages and crop loss, and thank the voters of Alabama.

They brought you Tommy Tuberville, grand denier.

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: caring

We’ve come upon a rare beast: Thursday, October 12, 2023. It only happens once.

47 F in Ashlandia, where the air is clear and the people are refined. Never fear, the rain has stopped, and the skies are clear deep blue. With the sun and air working together, we’ll reach 69 F before sunset comes at 6:35 PM. This sunset gives us an swath of daylight just over eleven hours long. The clock is running.

There’s a great deal to care about in the news, as usual. Several wars and politics just edge baseball and football. Best news heard this week is that my little sister looks cancer free after having her rectum removed in September. Hurrah for that. As another friend privately noted, but once you’ve experienced a close encounter of the cancer kind, the fear it’ll return haunts you.

The Neurons have plugged a 1982 Donald Fagen song into the morning mental music stream (Trademark petrified). I heard “I.G.Y. (What a Beautiful World)” on the car radio a few days ago. The song is a riff off of an International Geophysical Year – IGY – which Fagen read about. The IGY was in the 1950s. Fagen then contemplates a beautiful future.

Standing tough under stars and stripes
We can tell
This dream’s in sight
You’ve got to admit it
At this point in time that it’s clear
The future looks bright

On that train all graphite and glitter
Undersea by rail

Ninety minutes from New York to Paris
Well by seventy-six we’ll be A-OK

What a beautiful world this will be
What a glorious time to be free

Get your ticket to that wheel in space
While there’s time
The fix is in
You’ll be a witness to that game of chance in the sky
You know we’ve got to win
Here at home we’ll play in the city
Powered by the sun
Perfect weather for a streamlined world
There’ll be spandex jackets one for everyone

What a beautiful world this will be
What a glorious time to be free

h/t Genius.com

The words and sentiment kept pestering my thinking. Simplifying, part of the IGY philsophy was to bring scientist together to discuss problems propose solutions.

Hearing this song, though, about how science and technology could advance and help us, I’m dismayed. Science and technology is under attack by many. Witness what’s been going on with the COVID-19 vaccines, along with other vaccines. (Point of order, many have derided vaccines for decades, so that’s not a clearly new development.)

So, let’s point out that people doubt what scientists are saying about global warming. This, despite the rise of sea waters, drought, melting ice caps, and increased extreme weather which scientists warned us about.

Led by hard right conservatives, people doubt the potential benefits of solar and wind power. Most focus on the negatives, ignoring the negatives behind the accepted energy sources like fossil-based fuels and nuclear energy.

Fagen talks about new technology like undersea trains taking us from New York to Paris in 90 minutes. I can’t help but wonder who that might help besides the people who can afford it. We already have space travel for the wealthy developing. Of course, they like to say that if space travel can become common enough, prices will come down.

But how much does space travel help the masses? For my end, I’d prefer to see high speed rail built in the United States so that it doesn’t takes days to cross the country and a small fortune, as it does now. Perhaps electric trains to move people and cargo so we’re not all crowding into commercial aircraft like sardines in a can.

And I’d rather see money and technology spent on solving problems that affect people every day, such as we saw happen with vaccines. Let’s do the same to battle cancer.

While saying all of this, I do remember a television show called “Connections“. James Burke hosted the show. The subject was about unexpected uses and benefits derived from technology, and how these improvements were connected through science and medicine, and the continual quest for improvement. So, while I poo-poo space travel for the wealthy, perhaps unexpected benefits will be derived to solve some of the problems our world faces.

Finally, Fagen mentions, “What a glorious time to be free.” Yet, war is on the rise. So are challenges to people’s basic rights.

Book banning is on the right, as is racism and white supremacy.

Doesn’t feel like a glorious time to be free.

Anyway, “I.G.Y. (What a Beautiful World)” is today’s theme music. Please listen to it and contemplate the ideas in it. I’d enjoy hearing what others thing. Perhaps, I’m just emerging as a pessimistic as I lean in toward my geezer years.

Time to saddle up this day and ride on toward the sunset. Be strong, stay safe and optimistic. Here’s the music. I got my coffee and I am a go. Cheers

Changing Times

Everything is changing. I’m not stupid. I know that it’s not unusual for things to change. Weather changes, clothes, all that. I’m not stupid.

This is different, you know? This is real change.

I was born in 2032. May, a taurus. I can’t remember much of my early life. I guess it was okay. Then the crumble began. You know, bridges collapsing, blackouts, gas and electricity shortages, water shortages.

I remember that from when I was around ten and our school was shut down. Dad said that taxes had been cut, so you know, the government didn’t have the money for schools, and we couldn’t afford a pay school. Dad was working a full-time job and two part-time jobs. Mom was working three part-time gigs. Working their asses off, both of them. My auntie, who was disabled from diabetes, schooled me and my sisters and cousins in our family room. That’s where she lived.

I did what I could myself. Made some change from helping with cleanups. People would abandon their cars and places, and I’d pirate things and sell them door to door. Tapes and books, old computers, that kind of thing.

We were always hungry, picking berries, apples, plums, whatever we could find. Best time was when I was a teen. Used to be able to pay two dollars to bus tables for fifteen minutes in a restaurant. They let me eat anything that was left. I’d try to stuff things in my pockets for my family, if I could, but I was so damn hungry all the time.

That lasted ‘bout five years. Now I’m 31, and it’s all gone. I’m trying to find a new gig but all I got is my ‘lectric bike and clothes. Most days, it’s too hot to be outside, you know? Gets over 110 by noon, and then climbs twenty degrees more.

Like Mom used to say all the time, the times, they are a-changin’.

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: trending up

September 1, 2023. Friday. Are you ready to turn another page? They’re different sizes, aren’t they? Varying purposes. But they can help us move on and go forward.

Rainy here in Ashlandia, where the cats are masters and the rest are servants. 59 F with our bodies set for a high of 72 F. Thunderstorms are possible. The smoke gives the damp morning an interesting petrichor.

I read about ‘the bottleneck’ last night, a time when humans were almost extinct due to massive climate change. “Our ancestors remained at low numbers — fewer than 1,280 breeding individuals — during a period known as a bottleneck. It lasted for over 100,000 years before the population rebounded.” The study estimates that 98.2% of the world’s humans were wiped out in that era. All due to climate change. Well, probably also due to some poor survival skills, bad lucks, and willful ignorance which led to an unwillingness to change. It’s a study, a paper, an idea that remains to be fully investigated, including how we rebounded. Fascinating stuff, though.

I was thinking about how many tales there are to tell, or new spins on old tales. Out of that, The Neurons brought up a Love and Rockets song, “No New Tale to Tell” and pitted it in the morning mental music stream (Trademark overrated). Bit perverse of The Neurons. They point to the closing lines, “It’s all the same thing, no new tale to tell.” What do you think? Are there new tales to tell?

Let’s continue practicing the Four Bs — be safe, be smart, be pos, be strong. Forward into September with confidence. The coffee is here at last — like I’m not the local provider. Here’s the music. Cheers

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