A still, flat Ashlandia morning, a time of broken clouds and dissolute sunshine. The ticking clock competes with a far-off crow cawing a morning song. Satyrda, September 20, 2025. Two days before autumn but autumn feels like its taken control. 70 F, 86 F is speculated as the high. Summer is taking its last breaths.
Today’s song filling the morning mental stream is “Rebel Rebel” by David Bowie. I’m not sure why The Neurons laid down the 1975 song today. Nothing in my dreams point to this as the dream’s closing song or soundtrack. Nothing in my empty head points to why The Neurons have it playing as I do the morning deeds.
I enjoy the songs’ lyrics about confusion and rebellion, acceptance and dismissal. This live version plays with the melody. As with anything Bowie, he does it with unique style and fashion.
Hope grace and peace finds and keeps us. I know a lot of us are dubious that will happen anytime soon, if at all. I’m logically in the same arena of thought, yet, as an optimist, I still dream of a better time coming. Cheers, M
Cool air regales us today, Twosda, July 15, 2025, in Ashlandia. Tiny wet old smoke offset’s the mountain air’s freshes. We’ll live. 68 F now, 97 F is forecasted. We saw 99.3 at our house yesterday but didn’t need the A/C. A clear blue sky and focused sun says, yeah, this might be a hot one.
On local news, the talk is about affordable housing. Affordable housing has been discussed since I moved here twenty years ago, along with growth. Each time ‘affordable housing’ is approved and built, investors snatch it up to flip or rent out. So it’s all been 20 years of talk and churn with no substantial changes.
Our local economy isn’t doing well. Ashland depends on tourism and Southern Oregon University (SOU) for the most part, along with some spotty light industry, mostly related to outdoor tourism, and of course, healthcare. Wineries and breweries give us two more legs. Beyond that, we have a service based economy, as most residents are older and retired. Tourism has been damaged by heat, wildfires, and smoke. Tourism’s centerpiece is the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, assisted by a series of outdoor concerts called the Britt Festival. Both were heavily cratered by smoke, heat, and wildfires. The pandemic then knocked tourism back again just when recovery began. Now we hold our breath, cross our fingers, and wait to feel what Trump’s attacks on people, trade, common sense and other nations does to tourism.
Meanwhile, healthcare’s rising costs have driven costcutting, layoffs, and firings to that local industry. The Greedy Ol’ Trump Party’s monstrous bill is expected to implode rural healthcare activities, and we’re part of that scene.
Finally, SOU has announced that enrollment has declined again. Tuition has been raised but they can’t keep raising it, so they’ve cut staff and programs. Desperate for money, they’re planning to shift some unused parts of their their campus into that fast-growing industry, assisted living. But again, the greed propelled GOTP absurdly named ‘One Big Beautiful Bill’ is expected to body slam education at all levels. Trump has cut Pell Grants and other programs, and that will leave a mark.
Underlying all of it: Trump’s charge to deny climate change and do nothing except punish those who do try to talk about it and address its impacts and causes. But climate change will affect the beer and wine industry, tourism, and wildfires. Did I mention that insurance companies withdrew from providing coverage in the area?
BTW, talk is about more than just this. We’re also talking a lot about deer, as they’ve become aggressive and attack dogs and people walking dogs.
Today’s song is “Rebel Rebel” by David Bowie. The Neurons slotted the 1974 song into the morning mental music stream for reasons they closehold and don’t disclose.
In a final comment on the morning, the local Internet, and by local, I mean ‘at my house’, is very sluggish. Anything happening to it out there in the world? Probably, but when will we learn?
Have the best day you can. I hope it’s excellent. Cheers
Frida descended upon Ashlandia with lots of cloud and some precocious heat. 77 F now, May 9, 2025, is expected to crest in the low 80s as Fahrenheit measured it.
Another Papi experiment was conducted this morning. Papi is our housefloof, feline and orange in nature. He belonged to another family in the neighborhood. They left him behind when they moved. He’d already joined our household at that point.
So I learned this week that he responds well to “Psp, psp, psp.” It’s an electric change. I remember that his name when those others were supposed to be his people was Garfield. Like the comic strip and movies. So, after saying the “Psp, psp” thing, I called Papi, “Garfield.”
He was sitting in the dining room with his back toward me. I was entering the kitchen. On the “Psp, psp”, he cocked his ears and half turned his head. When I said, “Garfield,” he jerked completely around and issued a sharp, “Miaow.” To me, it seemed like acknowledgement that he knew that as his name from some once-upon-a-time period. I’ll continue calling him Papi. He knows that name as well.
I saw three stories yesterday that claimed that Trump is under pressure for various things. That, uh oh, the MAGA faithful were upset.
I laughed and scoffed under that. As long as he’s Trump, he’ll sooth them with some new lies. The right-wing media the faithful follow will read and return to their comfortable bubbles.
But hearing under pressure brought an enticement The Neurons were too weak to resist. That’s the song, “Under Pressure” by Queen and David Bowie. Back in the Freddie Mercury days. I’ve always enjoyed the song. I’ve used it as theme music before. Last time was in July, 2024. Remember what was happening in ‘Merica at that time? Yes, the election campaigning. I wrote about how old and tired Trump looked. He won. Now he looks older and more tired. For that to matter, the faithful would need to step into the sunshine of information and critical thinking. That ain’t happening.
Anyway, this version of “Under Pressure” is Queen without Mercury, with Annie Lennox and David Bowie. Watching it, I thought how Brian May and the other Queen members must feel for at least a slice of time, performing these old songs without their lead vocalist, Freddie Mercury. I know were I them, I’d have a little ache.
Reflecting on all that, I assume you know who David Bowie, et al, are. I assume you know that Freddie Mercury and David Bowie were the song’s original vocalists. I assume you know that they passed away. So many assumptions.
Also, personal opinion, but Bowie, Mercury, and Lennox are fascinating, charismatic vocalists. I felt pretty moved when they moved forward on the stage and sang the outre at 3:26.
Coffee has been indulged anew. Frida is proceeding with the usual rhythms of my life. Hope yours is an uplifting and satisfying day. Over to you. Cheers
The world is full of colors. Pinks, yellow, and greens win the eye. Must be spring in Ashlandia. Temp is 45 F, however, it feels like 60, if you stand just the right way. ‘They’ say it’ll be 55 F today as our high but left out how it will feel. Will it rain? Yes! Maybe! It’s Saturda, March 29, 2025, so who knows? I will dress for dry and rainy weather. Yeah, it’ll be a dorkish sight.
Papi the ginger blade, known locally as Butter Butt, doensn’t seem upset with us any longer. Could be because we bribed him with chumley and other treats. I don’t think he forgot. He seems to have a long memory about things. It could be that he’s trying to mislead me into thinking he’s forgotten and forgiven, and then raise floofhem some night when we really need sleep. That sort of cunning planning feels like his style.
I surfed through a wild dream last night. Whole thing was just a series of flash epiphanies in dark night. I was telling myself that star energy runs through us, firing the little nuclear responses in our cells that generate our life energy. We die when the star energy can no longer feed our cells. Star energy comes through our chakras into our corporeal beings, and so on. Time is something we made up, and we have it all wrong. Everything is happening at once. No past, no future. Time was created so we could think in a more orderly manner but we’ve taken it too fair. Now it’s our straitjacket.
There was much, much more. Such as there is only one universe, and the idea that we treat our bodies wrong by trying to heal it when we should be reversing things. Dream me didn’t explain how that was supposed to be accomplished.
I awoke really hot. There are different kinds of hot for us as humans. Drinking a hot beverage feels one way. Sex hot, sun hot, fever hot, sports hot which incudes dripping sweat, furnace hot, which dries us out, desert hot, are all different. If you think about these hots, you notice how each feels unique, and our bodies respond differently to each. Well, the hot felt when I awoke from this dream was wholly different from any of those hot experience. Perhaps that’s all only me. I’ve never discussed the different sort of hots I feel with others
Anyway, I awoke feeling a different manner of hot. Then I headed for the bathroom to pee.
Der Neurons have sprung “Star Man” by Davide Bowie on the morning mental music stream. This was from Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust era. Released in 1972, I don’t hear it often on the radio in ‘Merica. But I personally enjoy its message of hope being delivered by a Starman to Earth’s youth. I went with the Top of the Pops video performance. Even though the song is being mimed, it awakened and impressed many more people to the talent named Bowie.
Coffee is reassuring me once again. Time to play through. Hope your day is remarkable for you in many good ways. Peace out.
Daybreak’s first peeps brought awareness. Today is Saturday. Were I a child of the days back then, I’d be up with joy, heading into the kitchen for a bowl of cereal and into the living room to check out cartoons. Maybe it’d be Bugs and the Roadrunner. Johnny Quest. Speedy Gonzales, Top Cat, Deputy Dawg.
With awakening today, I thought, February 8, 2025. Taxes have been prepared but not filed. We owe money at this point so why pay now? Wait till the bill is due. Not acutally my philosophy; this was my spouse’s input.
It’s 25 F outside. Sunshine and clouds take turns showing themselves. Snow flurries fall. The road looks slick with ice. Snow is still the landscape’s dominant feature. Much melted off yesterday as the snow turned to rain and rain turned to sunshine. The temperature climbed into the low forties before retreating into the mid-20s overnight. ‘They’ tell us today will bring partly sunny skies into Ashland and a high in the upper thirties.
Today’s song is from a movie. The movie is is based on the 1979 book The Falcon and the Snowman: A True Story of Friendship and Espionage by Robert Lindsey. A friend of mine was the book’s editor, and he told about how the manuscript came to be in his hands and his conversations with the author, insights which I lapped up. The movie was released in 1985 and starred young Sean Penn and Timothy Hutton. I’ve posted about the hit song that emerged from it before. Suffice today to say that after reading news yesterday about PINO Trump and Musk — PINO Trusk — activities, The Neurons plucked the song from memory and has it rolling in the morning mental music stream. Key to the song’s position in the MMMS is the line repeated throughout the song, “This is not America”, which is also the song’s title.
Unfortunately, through an accumulation of actions and a confluence of misguided thinking and behavior, what we have now is America. It’s not the place visualized by our founders. Nor is it the nation which survived a civil war and two world wars. No, this is an ugly vision of America, and what many feared would happen. Too sadly, it is celebrated as ‘the right direction’ for a segment of the population.
I ran into coffee in the kitchen and consumed. Sunshine has lifted the light and temperature outside and the falling snow has faded. Ice has melted on the streets.
Things are looking up, for the moment, here in Ashlandia.
All systems indicate with uniform agreement, this is Thursday, December 12, 2024, as expected.
What to expect from the weather is something else. The winds have abated. Rain heralded the morning hours. But the off-white canvas that stretched overhead from valley end to end at dawn is shredding and tearing. Blue sky and sunshine are poking through. As the cloud cover shreds, the curls turn dark and mean looking. A few coalesce into hulking, brooding bodies…but they sail on, leaving my field of vision.
It’s 41 F out, just four small degrees of separation from the projected high. It will be some variation of a late fall, early winter day. Details are still collecting.
Just saw a headline announcing that Meta — Facebook’s overlord — donated $1,000,000 to Trump’s inauguration fund. They didn’t contribute to President Biden nor Trump’s first inauguration campaign. This confirms the slide I’ve witnessed in my perspective of their ‘community standards’ enforcement. There’s a nasty authoritarian, fascist stench coming from that site. It’s also getting more sucky in its content, with ads and clickbait becoming its overwhelming offerings.
Saw my surgeon in a post-op follow up regarding my ankle surgery yesterday. He lifted movement and activity restrictions off me. Yes, some swelling is still evident, and yeah, edema swelling has caused some complication, but the general trend is going up. I’ll take that.
Heavy mental fog surrounds the morning mental music stream’s current occupant. “The Man Who Sold the World” is a David Bowie composition. Came out in 1970. The song resides on several Bowie albums in my music collection. The cover in my head was done by Kurt Cobain and Nirvana, and was released in 1995. In both, the enigmatic words are influenced by Bowie and Cobain’s vocal deliveries. Always gives me pause to consider what’s being said and fuels a search for meaning. Can’t say I always achieve that. As to why it’s in today’s mmms (Trademark sold), it might be just a general response running through my mind that so much of the world is simply selling out, so the Neurons countered with music about not selling out.
Side thought that comes with writing about Cobain and Bowie that it’s dissatisfying that both passed away. But the duality of life remains: they had great gifts and shared them with us. Of course, the full stop finish to the reflection is, this is life. We live and die. The difference is made in the gap between the beginning and end.
Let’s get positive and move through this winter of disappointment and on to a brighter spring. Coffee has planted its energy seeds in me. Time to move it, move it, move it. Here’s the music. Cheers
Clouds in spiffy white parade past the window, bold against the blue. The sun throws a spotlight on them. Oh, sunshine, so good to have you back again.
It’s 46 F now, just a little short of the high projected for us. Clouds will dominate and rain might come. Could be worse. I was going through photos last night on my ‘puter. Looking for shots of friends. What I came across slowed my search with memories. Included was a photo of the snowy scene outside nine years ago, looking across the street.
Talking to my cats today, I noticed the differences in their style. Both speak a meow dialect of flooflish but their enunciation is different, as are many of their words. How they ask for food is worlds apart but I understand both. They, as teachers, know that repetition is important. They’ve repeated their requests for food over the years, drilling it into my head.
Nauseated by politics and justice in the United States, I took my head out of America’s ass for a bit to see how the rest of the world was faring. Nothing seemed real promising. Fires and volcanos, disasters, refugees, wars, and politics. With a sigh, I ducked back into my cozy silo. The Neurons drummed up a David Bowie song, “Heroes.” It played in my morning mental music stream (Trademark iffy) as I ate and invited coffee to engage my taste buds. I found a live version done at a slower beat that begins almost conversationally. My wife doesn’t like the song; says it’s too ‘strident’. Other friends didn’t like it because they thought it too commercial. But I like heroes, defiance, and declarations of intentions, so the song sits well with me. I do miss David B. Wish he was still around.
Let’s get a bead on the day and push ourselves. Hope you make it the best one you can. Here’s the music. And away we go. Cheers
A front has driven in, strewning clouds of different complexities over Ashlandia, giving us variables in lights, shadows, temperatures, and expectations. Sumumn still holds but it’s beginning to look like autmer as trees flirt with new colors in their leaves. Only dropped to the high fifties last night, and today’s high temperature will spank 90 degrees F.
This is Monday, September 23, 2024. You understand that 2024’s ninth month is closing out and there are but 94 days until Kwanzaa, 93 days until Christmas, and 93 days until Hanukkah? There’s also only 43 days until the U.S.’s 2024 elections. Things are getting tight.
Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) inspired today’s musical choice, although coffee contributed. Having indulged in my first hit of black goodness, I saw Tucker came out from eating. Moving slow, his eyes were mostly closed and his tongue was busy going over his whiskes and mouth. Sitting, he commenced to watching.
That’s when The Neurons or somebody caused me to sing, “Tucker. I just fed a kitty named Tucker.” This was done to the tune of “Blue Jean” by David Bowie. Right after that, the 1984 song fired up in my morning mental music stream (Trademark dished). It’s a catchy little Bowie number, jaunty with memorable lines which don’t convey any great depths. How did he do that?
Stay positive, confident, and strong. Lean forward and vote blue in 2024. Coffee has been served in the office; here’s the music. Cheers
This is it, the last day of July of 2024. It’s gonna roll on without you so hurry on down to the Last Chance Saloon to get your final taste of July of 2024.
July was a tumltuous month. The RNC was held and Don Old Trump wisely chose a lying hypocritical sycophant as his running mate. An assassination attempt enlivened the news days. Judge Cannon, a Don Old Trump appointee, dismissed the classified document case on him with reasoning that shocked legal experts. Heat records were set for the planet. Disasters unfolded across the world, including wildfires throughout the United States, and the stock market continued going up. President Biden dropped out of the running to be POTUS again, Vice President Harris leaped into the fray, and the Olympics began. Those are just the basics.
It’s Wednesday here in Ashlandia, where the wine is fine and the weed does the deed. 73 F now, we’re anticipating a high of 97 F. I’m awaiting my furnace control board so I can continue my DIY repairs on my HVAC. I haven’t been working on it because of the high heat. Although we both agree, we’ve been surprising comfortable about ninety percent of the time, my wife is beginning to show signs of impatience.
Our quality is good, still, ranging in the 20 to 30 range around town.
We’re under 100 days until the election. Think it’s 98 now. The pressure is getting ratcheted up. Don Old Trump is looking shaky these days. Vance is offering little reassurance in his early performances.
In other words, they’re under pressure. The Neurons selected “Under Pressure” from the grey mental jukebox and has the David Bowie and Queen collaboration from 1981 is rousing the morning mental music stream (Trademark carbonized). Hope it works for you as theme music for today.
Mood: Bureausilized (when activities are rendered useless by bureaucracy and become fossilized)
Good morrow, gentle folk and fellow coffee guzzlers. Today is Tuesday, May 14, 2024.
For the record, we’re fully overcast in Penn Hills, PA. It’s comfortable out, 61 F, with rain and thunderstorms chugging our way. They’re scheduled to arrive noonish. Today’s high will stroke out at 72 F.
Trump on Trial (the hush money/business fraud business) holds my family enthralled. Details are reiterated and explored. They’re also enjoying Trump’s latest tax issues, whereby he seems to be on the hook for $100,000,000 in taxes.
But doubt has been expressed that anything significant will emerge from either of these matters. Trump is white, male, and wealth, even if he may not be as wealthy as he claims. He’s also an ex-POTUS and the woeful GOP’s current candidate. Looking at the crime and punishment Venn diagram, significant punishment and karma don’t seem likely. The lesson reinforced for most of us, I think, is that the U.S. has a tiered justice system that mocks ‘and justice for all’.
The Hunt for Mom’s Caregiver goes miserably. All agencies contacted have suggested other agencies to contact. It’s a quagmire of links and promises, but little of substance is ever found. Others have found caregivers, so it is possible. Just need to moving out of expectations that any government agency will be useful.
Likewise, there’s no movement on Mom’s hospital bed request. In his case the road goes through her PCP’s office. Calling it is like shouting into a sewer. There’s not even an echo in response.
Today’s theme music veers to remembrance of David Sanborn’s work. The saxophonist died this week, robbing us of another wonderful musical talent. While more talented musicians keep emerging, the ones who marked us with their style should remain recognized and appreciated.
One of the first songs The Neurons pulled up for David Sanborn was David Bowie’s “Young Americans” from 1975. Then, as I read appreciations about him, many more people mentioned this same song. Sanborn’s body of work was much better than that, though.
I like this video which I found to showcase Sanborn. Not the best sound quality, but there’s a lot of talent on display here beyond Bowie and Sanborn. So many of them have passed.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Meanwhile, create and adhere to a vision of a better world. We make it happen, yes, we can make it happen.
Michael Seidel, writer 