So our hotel change is completed… This new room, a Hampton Inn, is very quiet and comfy.
Breakfast has been et. Sorry to note that Monroeville’s businesses are going through an enshittification but that’s another blog post.
It’s Satyrda, 10/25/2025. Sunny and pretty autumn Pittsburgh day, temperatures rolling in the mid 50s. Nice pigskin weather. Sis tells me Mom is up and awake and doing well. Sis is cleaning house. My wife and I will now run some errands and bolt toward sis’s house for a day of visiting. Our visit with Mom yesterday was entertaining. She’s decline since the last I saw her, two years ago. Has fallen several times in the past week. Sis says Mom’s right hip and thigh are all black and blue from hitting the floor. Mom’s new home arrangement is in flux at my sister’s house, but it’s a cozy setup, and Mom is as tight with cozy as crossed fingers.
Today’s music is “Run Through the Jungle”. CCR. The Neurons brought it forth as I resuscitated my Pittsburgh driving skills and kept it in the morning mental music stream. Only The Neurons were singing “Drive Through the Jungle”.
Gotta go chase some peace and grace down and try to entice it to out itself to us and hang. Meanwhile, let’s do the best possible for ourselves. Cheers
Thirstda, September 18, 2025, has landed on Earth. It’s a quiet one in Ashlandia, comfortable with low level aircraft humming, yard work, and cars and trucks busy on missions. 77 F, cloud cover is giving shade and humidity. Thunderstorm’s sullen weight presses down. Today’s high will be 79 F, and the air quality is 30, which is good.
It was a rockin’ night so I’m beginning late.After daring to eat three small pieces of cheese pizza during a going-away fete for a friend, my gallbladder leaped up in indignation at 5 AM. Puking and pain accompanied the passing hours. I bolted down a quarter of an oxy and an Ondansetron. Sleep played keep away. I didn’t get out of bed to anything past the bedroom until after noon, when the pains finished their kicks and let me alone.
While lying there, The Neurons filled the morning mental music stream with “I Heard it Through the Grapevine”. The Neurons alternated between Marvin Gaye’s offering and CCR’s long pop rock rendition. I’m playing both for y’all.
My friends and I briefly discussed Charlie Kirk’s life and death last night. I amused myself with a test, repeating what I’ve been hearing so often about Kirk trying to open dialogues and have conversations with the other side. My companions were shaking their heads before I was halfway through. “He was trying to control and manipulate facts and conversation,” I paraphrase them as saying. “He was muddying the waters about facts. And he supported Trump and brought young men into the Trump camp based on hate and lies.”
So, there we go. Meanwhile, we march on toward censorship as Trump flexes government power through agencies such as the FTC. The right wing, always willing to exercise hypocrisy, vociferously thumped liberals, progressives, and Democrats as cancelling others. Yet, here we are, with corporate toadies seeking FTC approval to merge and buy more entertainment and news outlets, bowing to Trump and firing folks. So it goes too at various companies. Point out what Kirk said at your employment peril. Echo his words and they cry, “Foul.” They’re purifying his image, granting him sainthood in the name of the father, son, and Donald Trump. Such enablers, firing people for speaking their minds, are as cheap and tawdry as the plated gold pieces in Trump’s Offal Office. Eventually, they’ll have a gold-plated little dictatorship. It’ll be called the United States but it’ll only resemble the founders’ vision in name. And those tawdry enablers will wonder, what the fuck happened. Fools.
Time to rock and roll. Hope peace and grace get here in time to save our nation. Hugs ‘n cheers to all, M
Papi cat is not happy. I know this because of the shouting meows. Not just the sound. He faces me and leans into it. Stretches his jaws wide. He’s Maria Callas using his diaphragm to belt it out.
“I know,” I tell him.
Rain fell all night. Sometimes in buckets. Papi is not a friend of rain. We also re-installed the pet door. In days past, Tucker slept on the mat in front of the pet door. That meant no other animal was entering. With Tucker gone, we decided the food bowls needed to be moved further away.
Background is, we had a buncha cats at one point. They usually didn’t get along. So we had three feeding stations. One in each the laundry room, the office, and the bedroom. In the bedroom, the feeding station lives by the wall beside the sliding door where the pet door resides. We thought it needed to be moved further away so that some passing animal didn’t sniff the kibble richness and come in through the pet door. Since Tucker is no longer guarding the pet door.
But all that change has Papi irritated. Pour the rain on top and he feels that the world is a cruel and injust place.
“I know,” I tell him. “I had to change my diet due to high blood pressure. It sucks.”
“Meyeah,” Papi wailed back.
Yes, it has rained all night. It’s wet and chilly this morning. 44 F and rain. The high will be 51 F and rain. The low will be 41 F and rain. The rain is good for the land, we remind each other. The pep in our pep talks is petering out, though. Everyone wants sunshine until they don’t. Then we want rain. Until we don’t. It’s the cycle of complaint. Weather version.
This is Saturda. April 26, 2025. Still spring in Ashlandia. And typical Ashlandia spring weather.
I’m a little miffed. I had yard plans. I’d been making progress. The rain has placed a pause on the cause. I can’t do the things planned, cause rain and electric power equipment. I’ve read somewhere that they are not a good combination.
I’m happy it’s Saturday. The news cycle slows on the weekends. News doesn’t stop but less people are reporting and airing it. Much as I’d like a break from it, we need to stay vigilant against the Trusk Regime’s evil. That evil goes 24/7. Just when you think their empathy has bottomed, they show a lower side. Most recently, they deported a two-year US citizen. Because, Trump. He no like the 16th Amendment. So he decided to ignore it. Because that’s what you do if you dislike laws. It’s the Trump U.S.A. way.
Snark alert: The other ‘good’ news is that the number of measles cases keep rising. Looks like RFK Jr’s plans just can’t get an angle on stopping it. Probably because he eschews using science and medicine.
Final bit of irritating news. Trump says he’s talking to China about the tariffs. China says, “No, he isn’t.” Either side could be lying. Given Trump’s record, I believe it’s him. Trump is lying. Yet again.
Puttering through the kitchen at pre-coffee speed, The Neurons raised a line in my head. “Let me remember things I don’t know.” I further slowed. I know the line. That wasn’t the line. That was a mondegreen: a misunderstood song line. Urging The Neurons into more effort, the song and real line punched in:
“Let me remember things I love, Lord.” CCR. “Green River”.
Coffee has made a safe landing in my body. Dressed, fed, and caffeinated, I am re-animated for another day. Hope you have a day that works in your favorite. It can happen. Cheers
Welcome once again. The show is starting, it’s never ending, the days come together and just keep on blending. So we give them numbers and call them names, this one is Saturda, the 15th. It’s still February and it’s still 2025.
An unenthusiastic sky made up of blemished and dull white swaths have been tossed over the sky. Blue is not in the scene today. Sunshine is muffled; only rays weary with effort break out. Piles of melting snow, blackened by dirt and pollutants, sketch reminders of last week.
We’re lookin’ at 36 F but ‘they’ say we’ll see 43 F later. Rain? Maybe. Sunshine? Could be. Fog? Why not?
Around noon Friday, the trio entered multiple offices at City Hall “demanding that employees turn over digital information related to alleged wasteful government spending and fraud,” the sheriff’s office said.
The employees refused the requests and called sheriff’s deputies. The men fled the building before authorities arrived.
Isn’t it a perfect metaphor for the Trusk administration? Lawlessness, ignorance, arrogance, and cowardice, all in one scene. Sums up Trusk for me.
I mean, think about it. These guys walk in and demand files related to wasteful government spending and fraud. What did they think was going to happen? Employees were going to reply, “Oh, yes, we have those files right here. Here ya’ go. Have a nice day.”
Jeezus.
Today, The Neurons have presented me with a classic CCR song. Dug up out of 1968, “Commotion” is playing in the morning mental music stream. It’s a fast-beat song with classic CCR lyrics.
People keep atalkin', they don't say a word Jaw, jaw, jaw, jaw, jaw Talk up in the White House, talk up to your door, So much goin' on I just can't hear
The genesis of the song in the MMMS is from reflecting how much the GOTP say without giving real information. Lies, bullshit, and evasion is their norm. I’d have to walk away from them if I heard them talking at a party. But as the song puts it, ‘so much goin’ on I just can’t hear.’ Which, others note, is part of the Trusk GOTP plan: if you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bullshit. Keep talkin’ and don’t answer questions. Confusion is their friend.
Coffee has made its way into my system again, pushing my buttons and liftin’ my energy. Here we go, into another hazy shade of winter. Have the best day you can. See you on the other side. Cheers
A sunny flourish and a burst of heat and the calendar was made redundant, useless. We knew summer was here. The weather announced it via blazing sun, clear skies, and a sharply scaling thermometer.
Tis Wednesday, June 22, 2015. Tis summer. Nonetheless, the sunrise was at 5:35 AM and sunset will be at 8:51 PM, about the same as the day before summer began. It’s 67 F right now, with a wonderfully friendly and sweet cool breeze tempering the sun’s attitude. The cats love it. I went with the two into the backyard. After some washing (I didn’t participate), they rolled around on the patio. A scrub jay arrived. They abandoned their domestic posturing and proclaimed they’re mighty hunters, so beware.
Somewhere in all of this, the neurons introduced CCR, aka Creedence Clearwater Revival, and their song from 1970, “Up Around the Bend”. It’s pretty straightforward rock and roll. I first heard it when I was fourteen, and the song still entertains me. Hope it entertains you as well.
Stay positive, and hopeful, even optimistic. Test negative. Wear a mask as needed, and take other precautions. Act like you care about your friends and family and be responsible. I try to, with mixed results, then I try again. Now the neurons are singing the coffee song. Here’s CCR. Oh, it’s lifted from Youtube and a show called American Bandstand. They’re having a dance contest. I love this look at 1970s era pop culture – TV, music, fashion, hair, dancing, all rolled into one scene. The music doesn’t start until about 3:42, but you might want to see what it was like, at least for some, for a moment, back in the day. In reflection, I guess today’s theme is nostalgia. Cheers
Today is February 21, 2022. Happy ___. Yes, today is a holiday in the U.S. There are fifteen different official names for this holiday in use in the United States. It started as Washington’s Birthday but grew to encompass all POTUS. But is that Presidents’, President’s, or Presidents? That’s one of the rubs. For Federal gov. use, it’s Washington’s Birthday. Advertising is the prompt behind the move to the variations of President.
Of course, it’s a Monday, part of the holidays observed on Monday in the U.S. instead of the day on which it should actually be, February 22 on the Gregorian calendar, which also is not Washington’s birthday, because the British Empire used the Julian calendar when Washington was born and the United States wasn’t yet a country.
We had a sprinkle of snow on the land this morning when the sun’s light sluiced into the textured gray sky at 6:59 AM. It’s 34 degrees F. feels and smells like winter outside (and feels like 28 degrees, they claim). The high will be 42 F before sunfall begins taking the temperature back down at 5:51 PM. Be prepared for rain and snow showers. If you hit the road and plan to go more than twenty miles up the Interstate in either direction, be ready for serious winter.
Today’s song was going on in my morning mental music stream when I officially awoke. It may be related to a forgotten dream. “Sweet Hitch-hiker” by CCR is certainly a remnant of my unforgotten youth. The song was released in 1971. I was fifteen. My three primary modes of transpo was walking, biking, and hitch-hiking. I wasn’t the sweet hitchhiker of people’s the singer’s dreams, though, just another hairy lad popping into puberty. Thumbing a ride was already on the wan because crazies were emerging, either drivers eager to do shit unto you, or hitchhikers out for blood. Yes, times were changing.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax and boosters when you can. I’m to the kit for a cup. Cheers
You often hear what’ll happen someday. Biggest of that is, “Someday, we’ll understand.” But, for a lot of us, for many of these prophecies, someday never comes.
It was part of my morning circle. When will this come about? What day? Someday. Well, sometimes someday never comes.
John Fogerty was writing about his parents’ divorce and his own marriage breaking up when he wrote “Someday Never Comes”. I enjoy CCR’s music because of the beats and a general buoyancy they project, but Fogerty’s lyrics were often observational essays.
Here’s “Someday Never Comes” (1972).
First thing I remember was askin’ papa, “Why?”, for there were many things I didn’t know
And daddy always smiled; took me by the hand, sayin’, “Someday you’ll understand”
Well, I’m here to tell you now each and ev’ry mother’s son
You better learn it fast; you better learn it young, ’cause someday never comes
I was streaming this song as I walked today. It’s a favorite song. A number of performers have covered it. I think my two preferred versions are by Creedence Clearwater Revival and Marvin Gaye. CCR did a long version of it that has a little more rock ingrained, while Gaye’s version had more blues and soul to it. Gaye’s version was released in 1968 and was a huge hit. CCR came out with their version in 1970.
I always have enjoyed convertibles. Named spyders and spiders, roadsters, rag tops, I include the targas and tee tops in this group. The top down lets the world in when you’re motoring along.
I was trying my best to emulate that yesterday. A gentle spring sun warmed the day into aspirations of summer. Our little town was an idyllic verdant green. Sunroof and windows open, I was cruising home like it was yesteryear. To help me on that journey, the radio station played C.C.R.’s eight plus minute version of “Suzy Q”. Turning it up, I felt like a teenager for the six minutes that I listened as I drove home.
Not too much to the lyrics. Very straightforward, but I enjoy the guitar work and the variations on the drums and cymbals that arise.
This is a long time favorite. I hope I’ve not shared it before. If I have, suffer.
Let’s listen to CCR, sometimes more formally known as Creedence Clearwater Revival, and their song, “Bad Moon Rising,” from 1969. I like this, too, for the mondegreen, where, “There’s a bad moon on the rise,” is sometimes heard as “There’s a bath room on the right.” I’ve been known to propagate the misheard lyric and assure people those are the corrects words.
Michael Seidel, writer 