The Party Bathroom Dream

I was young again – LOL – but middle-aged, and part of this large celebration.

Held outside, in a large green park, the party was to celebrate the birthday of someone famous. I have no idea who. Tables the length of football fields, covered in white tablecloths, set with dishware, china, and silverware, lined the park’s perimeter. Terrific food, cakes, sandwiches, veggies.

There were also numerous river-rock buildings which looked like shelters. These turned out to be restrooms.

Strangely, that’s where most of the dream focused: the bathrooms. I needed to use the restroom and spent my time dashing around, looking for one that was available. As I did, the Bob Seger song, “Shame on the Moon”, would play off and on. I mostly heard, “Oh, blame it on midnight.”

My friends found this hilarious. No one was in a uniform but people I worked with in the military were present, sitting in chairs in one section.

What I found as I searched for a restroom was that all of them were in use, and there were lines of others waiting.

I raced around, stunned at this problem, thinking, there must be a restroom I can use.

Thinking I found one, to my relief, I went in and discovered that it was set up as little barbershop. While I wondered, “WTH,” one of my friends called out with laughter, “Don’t even think about going there, Seidel.”

I flipped him the bird.

An announcement was made. Everyone was asked to take their seats. Miss Shirley Bassey was going to sing for the guest of honor.

I made my way across the grass toward a table.

Dream end.  

Thursday’s Theme Music – History

Ashland, Oregon — Thursday, April 22, 2026.

Strong sunshine spreads across the valley from the east this morning. There are few clouds. The temperature is 41, the forecast calls for sunny weather, and the high end will see 67 F.

The latest move in Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! came out today.

Donald Trump reclassified state-medicinal marijuana as “less dangerous”. News reporting calls it “historic”, making it a perfect component of OELS!

With this, people will stop talking about:

  • High gas, fertilizer, and food prices
  • How badly Trump’s war in Iran is going, which he declared over as soon as it began (among other things)
  • The 1973 War Powers Act and the 60-day limit
  • Upcoming 2026 midterm elections and a potential blue wave
  • The Strait of Hormuz and whether it’s blockaded, who is doing it, and whether ships are paying tolls, and who’s collecting it
  • Trump’s feud with Pope Leo XIV
  • Rising disapproval numbers and bad polls
  • The backlash to depicting himself as Jesus via AI
  • Labor market weakness
  • Exploding national debt
  • Low consumer confidence
  • Trump’s health, stumbling, and slurring
  • The Epstein files, and Trump’s role in Epstein’s life and crimes.

If it’s not one thing, it’s the same damn thing, over and over.

Trump did his Bible verse reading. The right-wingers predictably gushed over Trump’s bold leadership. Many of the rest of us said, “Wow, that was terrible.”

Jokes arose about whether Trump would read from the Quentin Tarentino version. While others’ Bible reading was live-streamed, Trump’s was recorded and heavily edited.

Your Trump quote for the day:

Ah, Trump math. “Nobody’s ever seen anything like it.”

Sure, we have. Many con artists make outlandish claims like this, such as George C. Parker, famous for selling people ownership in the Brooklyn Bridge.

Today’s music comes from my dream side. During the dream, I kept hearing the song, “Shame on the Moon” by Bob Seger.

But the dream was about this big birthday celebration for somebody. At its end, Shirley Bassey was introduced to sing.

As I remembered the dream, The Neurons introduced a different Shirley Bassey song, “History Repeating”. The one with her and the Propellerheads from 1997 took over the morning mental music stream.

Lyrics

The word is about, there’s something evolving
Whatever may come, the world keeps revolving
They say the next big thing is here
That the revolution’s near
But to me it seems quite clear
That it’s all just a little bit of history repeating

The newspapers shout – a new style is growing
But it don’t know if it’s coming or going
There is fashion – there is fad
Some is good – some is bad
And the joke is rather sad
That it’s all just a little bit of history repeating

h/t to Genius.com

We heard from Mom. The social worker contacted her. Mom sent a chaotic text summarizing it. Basically, the social worker said that they would not be helping Mom move from the assisted living facility. Mom ended the text by asking my sister if she’ll help her move out at the end of the month.

Hope you have a great Thursday, wherever you are.

Cheers

Fascinating Dream: Aliens

It was a fascinating dream for me. When I awoke from it, I thought, I’d been watching a television show or movie. With a bit of surprise, I then realized I’d been in the dream, along with my wife and two children, which were my offspring. But I was both involved by watching as a minor character and sort of injected into some scenes.

My wife and children and I were tourists processing through some station. Aliens were there; sort of Klingon-like, in light grey blue uniforms with a jacket which has a deep red collar and a matching red shirt under it.

While traveling, all of us are stopped by these others who basically want to enslave us. It’s a troubling scene. I’m passive with my wife, not sure what will happen to us verses the others because we’re human and are supposed to have a different status. Nonetheless, we’re detained with the rest.

There’s then a scene where our captor and one of the captives go back and forth about what’s go be done in this cave where we’re being held. I realize that they’re having a disagreement over a matter of reference and perspective.

The captor keeps saying, ‘to your right’, and the other keeps saying, ‘that doesn’t make sense’. I then try to clarify that the captor is talking about the direction from the way he’s facing, while the captive is facing the opposite direction.

I end up getting up and pointing this out on a diagram they have posted on an easel.

We then ‘watch’ as captives are taken to another place to mine stuff. I don’t know what they’re mining. They make a show of it. I then suddenly realize that they’re secretly mining knowledge.

When the captive of before decides they’d learned enough, he reveals that he has a weapon. Shaped like an obelisk – really, just like a foot tall reproduction of the Washington monument, but shiny, silver-gold – the captive holds it up. Pressing a button, he sends a signal.

Suddenly, all these other dead, sleeping, and collapsed aliens awaken and rise. Each of them are equipped with a like obelisk. Using these, they overpower their captors.

As my wife and I watch, we realize that the revolution has begun.

Dream end.

The Little Competition Dream

It seemed as if I was in a quasi-military unit again. A new guy, young, I arrived as a strange ceremony was underway.

I took it in at a glance: large wooden but modern yurt. High wooden ceiling. People in uniforms – could be military, marching bands, firefighters – in groups, waiting.

Two senior people took me aside. The taller one said, “Your timing is perfect. We’re going to have you do the judging.”

I was like, the judging? I said nothing.

They led me to a round wooden table. On it was a brown wooden basket. “Basically,” it was explained, “you find their flare and trinkets and count them up.”

They were doing activity as this was being explained. I watched, following, gleaning the essence. This was a competition. The groups had stuff. I had to find it but judge it not on its merits but on its quantity. This would not be hard.

I counted some stuff. Marked it. Initialed the little slip of white paper it was on.

My instructors laughed. “Don’t bother initialing it. That’ll slow you down.”

I was affronted. I wanted accountability. Precision. But said nothing.

One of the groups’ leaders, tall guy with a rambling reddish-brown beard, was watching and spoke up. “He’s doing the judging? Look how slow he’s going. This is going to take forever.”

The tall leader responded, “He’s just starting. He’ll speed up.”

Indeed, I was speeding up, and learning the challenge’s intricacies. For example, in one green uniform, they had hundreds of small pockets. In each was a little gold trinket. Each had to be found and counted.

That’s how it was with all of these uniforms. The teams found things and hid them. Everything was small, and it was up to me to find and count it. Pretty nuts, I thought.

A woman in uniform, waiting to hand over her garments for my inspection and counting said, “This is pretty important to people.”

I nodded; I could tell.

She continued, “They put a lot of work and thought into it.”

“I can see that,” I replied.

The small things were adding up and time was going faster. I found new places to stack it all, keeping it neat and orderly.

Dream endThe Little Competition Dream

I was in a quasi-military unit again. A new guy, young, I arrived as a strange ceremony was underway.

I took it in at a glance: large wooden but modern yurt. High wooden ceiling. People in uniforms – could be military, marching bands, firefighters – in groups, waiting.

Two senior people took me aside. The taller one said, “Your timing is perfect. We’re going to have you do the judging.”

I was like, the judging? I said nothing.

They led me to a round wooden table. On it was a basket. “Basically,” it was explained, “you find their flare and trinkets and count them up.”

They were doing activity as this was being explained. I watched, following, gleaning the essence. This was a competition. The groups had stuff. I had to find it but judge it not on its merits but on its quantity. This would not be hard.

I counted some stuff. Marked it. Initialed the little slip of white paper it was on.

My instructors laughed. “Don’t bother initialing it. That’ll slow you down.”

I was affronted. I wanted accountability. Precision. But said nothing.

One of the groups’ leaders were watching and spoke up. “He’s doing the judging? Look how slow he’s going. This is going to take forever.”

The tall leader responded, “He’s just starting. He’ll speed up.”

Indeed, I was speeding up, and learning the challenge’s intricacies. For example, in one green uniform, they had hundreds of small pockets. In each was a little gold trinket. Each had to be found and counted.

That’s how it was with all of these uniforms. The teams found things and hid them. Everything was small, and it was up to me to find and count it. Pretty nuts, I thought.

A woman in dark green serge uniform, waiting to hand over her garments for my inspection and counting said, “This is pretty important to people.”

I nodded; I could tell.

She continued, “They put a lot of work and thought into it.”

“I can see that,” I replied.

The small things were adding up and time was going faster. I found new places to stack it all, keeping it neat and orderly.

Dream end

Monday’s Theme Music – A Sunny Day

Ashland, Oregon, April 13, 2026.

We begin the day with rain, which is expected to continue off and on into the evening. It’s 50 now with a high of 54 F possible. Sunshine does break through, but clouds quickly rush over to block it.

It’s another Trump day. We’re now into week seven of Trump’s Iran War. Trump is blockading the Strait of Hormuz to keep it open and bring Iran to its knees after assuring us, “We won.”

The peace president continues to threaten to bomb Iran if they don’t capitulate. That’s the ‘art of the deal’ for you. It’s worked wonders so far.

The Pope’s comments about peace and the Iran war outraged the peace president. Peace president Trump blasted the Pope on crime and foreign policy, areas which Trump has demonstrated no knowledge in. That means that he assumes he knows more than anyone else, in his mind.

To complete the journey around the bend, Trump shared a social media post likening himself to Jesus. Jesus, who helped the poor and sick and counseled against wealth, greed, and rich men; and Trump, who lies, makes life more miserable for the poor and sick, whose names is almost a synonym for 21st century greed and avarice. Trump certainly remains tone deaf to irony.

Happily, over in Hungary, Viktor Orbán appears out after losing the election and conceding. I hope that’s an omen that more positive change is coming.

Today’s music is brought to me by my dreams. I went through another long one last night. Loaded with family, many of my family members were often on bicycles while I was walking or running. We mostly stayed in contact during this shambolic excursion, which was sometimes alongside a river and was mostly on a dusty road. I was young in the dream, and often sweaty. There were stops for food and eating, and beds where I sometimes stopped and rested. While doing that once, an older copy sat on the bed’s edge to rest. Remembering that I wanted to tell my sister and her husband something, I sprang up from the bed, apologizing to them for startling them. I noticed that the man looked like Alan Rickman.

I was thinking about the dream, revisualizing the part where I began running along the river, when The Neurons introduced music to the morning mental music stream. CCR came out with “Walk on the Water” after John Fogarty’s brother died from a blood transfusion. The song makes sense to me because it’s about being near home.

Late last night, I went for a walk
Down by the river near my home
Couldn’t believe, with my own eyes
And I swear I’ll never leave my home again

Hope peace and grace lift you up and carry you through all your adversity and troubles.

We’re off to do Food & Friends deliveries.

Cheers

The Long Dream

My wife and I were staying in a white apartment building, in a spacious ground-floor unit.

Located on flat land, seven stories tall, the building was part of a busy area, full of energetic people and planning. Part of this was about the traffic going on with the broad street in front of the house. Other changes involved landscaping.

I had a sort of control where I could receive and send information. As I passed information on, someone in charge approached and asked how I was doing that. I showed them my control, a black rectangle similar to a television remote control. I demonstrated how I pointed it at things, pressed a button, and learned from doing that. I could then point it to someone, press a button, and share that information with that person.

In response to questions, I clarified that, yes, I could do simultaneous information collection and broadcast it to multiple people at the same time. But I also showed him that the remote was old and damaged; several buttons were weak or loose. I sometimes had to hold them in longer before the desired effects took place.

I hinted that I would really appreciate a new one, and they implied they might be able to help.

In another part of my dream, I had five cats. All were cats who previously lived with me and passed away. They were just hanging around the apartment, being cats.

Then a strange cat entered the front door. Resembling a small gray lion, it came in and then paused when it saw our cats.

One of our cats ran right up and attacked it. Our cat and the lion cat wrestled for a few seconds and then our cat pulled away and stretched. “Oh, he’s only playing,” we realized.

We then watched as the other cats interacted. One of our cats attacked one of the others, throwing them down. But then all the fighting stopped and the cats just settled down and washed.

It was then time for my wife and I to leave to go somewhere. As we left our apartment, I saw that the building’s rear landscaping was torn up. All the grass and plants had been removed.

That surprised me and my wife. We talked about it and then another approached and assured us that these plans had been in place for a long time. My wife and I chatted further, admitting, we must have missed the notice.

Dream end

Friday’s Theme Music – The Circus

Ashland, Oregon — Friday, April 10, 2026.

56 F right now, 62 is our projected high on a day when rain clouds have moved in and await their cue.

Had a big-ass thunderstorm here yesterday. Began with a heavy rain. Not monsoon level — I’ve experienced them in Southeast Asia — but heavier, harder, more intense than we typically experience. Thunder rolled in.

I went out on the porches to check the gutters. There are two places where the water was splashing out. They’re the usual suspects and need cleaned out again.

While I was out there, I saw lightning to the north. As I thought, lightning, boom, thunder cracked through the valley, violent and loud. That storm was right on top of us. We experienced several more sharp flashes of lightning and deep thunder and then it moved on.

I checked on Papi. My poor orange boi was retired to the master closet. No windows there. It’s his standard safe haven.

Stalemate with Mom continues. Won’t sell her house and asks my sister when the house is being put up for sale. Insists that she can live alone, and rejects anyone telling her otherwise. Doesn’t have a plan except to get out of the assisted living place. Which was basically her plan when she lived with my sister. It’s so frustrating.

Melania Trump stormed onto the national stage to insist that she doesn’t have anything to do with Jeffrey Epstein, and put in a demand about helping the victims.

Meanwhile, inflation was up in March to the highest level in two years, 3.3%. Gasoline prices in the US climbed over 21%. It all can all be traced to Trump’s war on Iran.

Trump responded by releasing a graphic, violent, racist video on ‘Truth Social’ and blaming President Biden.

Who is surprised by any of this? This is par for Trump, creating a distraction from bad news, especially inflation and Epstein, and blaming others. Trump has turned our lives into a three-ring circus.

Today’s song is “Hold On” by Alabama Shakes. This came about when I was doing something and my dream surged back to me. I said, “Hold on,” and spent a moment collecting and assembling dream pieces.

But The Neurons, being who they are, kicked “Hold On” into the morning mental music stream. It’s a solid choice. I heard it I think the year it came out. But when I first heard it on the radio, they never told the song’s title or performer. So I listened, memorizing lines, then went back in and did a net search. Glad I did.

It’s also a song I don’t ever hear being played on the radio these days. That’s a shame.

Hope you and yours are doing well, and peace and grace carry you through whatever the circus of life brings to town.

Cheers

A Traveling Dream – with Pie!

I was packing all my personal goods up. Part of that was a lot of money, which I and arranged in boxes, cases, bags, and scheduled it to be picked up and taken east.

That done, I sought transportation for myself. I found a bus and bought tickets. Inside were blue seats. I found an open seat and sat. The bus’s seating reminded me more of a widebody jet, except, I saw, it was arranged in a star pattern. Either way, I thought it unusual for a bus and too big.

A crotchety woman was managing the passengers. She announced our itinerary. We were in Maine, heading for New York!

That was wrong! I was supposed to be on the west coast, going east. That’s where I packed my stuff.

Now I worried about my stuff. Had I sent it in the wrong direction?

Then I worried about all that money I’d packed away, fretting that somebody might steal it. I shouldn’t have left it like that, and I should have brought more with me.

A young dark-haired woman in red clothing was in the seat next to me. I recognized her but she apparently didn’t remember me. I played a sly little game, ‘guessing’ things about her because I knew her. She was amazed by how I correctly guessed.

They announced we were in New York and would have a rest stop. The crotchety woman came around serving us slices of pie. I took two pieces and passed them on to other passengers, then ate the third piece. It seemed like some kind of runny custard pie. I didn’t care much for the filling so I only ate the crust.

We arrived at our destination. I don’t know where it was but began looking for my stuff, anxious about how much of it I’d find there. Several of my bags were discovered. Inside them were bundles of cash. I gave some to another traveler because they needed help.

The dream ended as I was walking toward a building, finding and picking up more of my bags.

Dreaming: Not My Glass

I was at a very crowded camp. We were outside. Lot of activity going on, including food and drink being served, and eating. I was not alone but with a group of friends and casual acquaintances, but it seemed to change throughout the dream.

Two parts retain clarity. One, I was drinking red wine in goblets. Almost everyone was, so it was challenging to track what drink belonged to who. Two, a group of Black friends were talking about movies and books. I’d not heard of either one.

One showed me a book. It was thin children’s book. I think it was called Riverrun City. When he showed me the cover, it showed brown cartoon bears moving across it. I thought I’d heard of the book but admitted I’d not read it. I made promises to try to do so as they encouraged me.

I went back to get my glass of wine but couldn’t find it. I recalled that I’d just filled it and set it aside – out of the way – so nobody else would pick it up by accident. It wasn’t where I remembered I put it and thought, I either mis-remembered, or someone moved it.

I spotted another glass at a different location. It could be mine, but I wasn’t sure. I walked around looking but also understood, how the hell am I supposed to know what glass is ‘mine’? They all looked alike.

I went back to that one which ‘might’ be mine. There seemed to be brown fibers floating in it. I tasted it; it tasted like tobacco juice.

This is not my glass, I decided.  

Sunday’s Theme Music – Dreamer

Ashland, Oregon — Sunday, March 22, 2026.

Light clouds dappled with gray and white haze the sky. Blue peeks through like a shy child. Sunshine has grown bolder, spreading over the greening valley. 56 F, it’s springy in the best way, with the upper 60s listed as the day’s highs.

My wife and I are going through tasks challenges. Each night we ask the other, “What are you going to get done tomorrow?” The answer must be besides the normal activities. Yesterday, she did the quarterly shredding of receipts. Today, she is cleaning the bottom of the freezer. We have a drawer type freezer. I don’t know what happens in there, but below that drawer gets amazingly messy.

My chores include washing her car, pulling weeds, activating her new ID card, and buying a new phone. I already activated her ID, so I’m 25% done. *smile*

Here’s the long story behind that. I’m retired military, and she’s a retired military spouse. When I retired, my retired military ID became “Indefinite”. It wasn’t really indefinite: a new card was needed when I turned 65. At that point, I was eligible for Medicare Part B. My era’s retired military medical benefits change once I’m eligible for that, as Medicare becomes my primary insurance. My Tricare 4Life becomes my secondary insurance.

My wife’s retired military ID continued expiring every four years. That used to mean a trek to an office where a new card could be issued. The computer systems being used made getting this take about an hour. The local office is in Medford and didn’t do appointments. Everything was walk-in. So we would walk-in, join the line and wait about an hour to 90 minutes.

My wife’s card was expiring in July. Imagine my surprise and delight when the systems reached out and asked if we wanted to renew it online. Why, heck, yeah! Double the surprise when her card now has an “Indefinite” expiration now, too!

Thinking about the political and war news today, and Trump and his support, I wondered, are they dreamers? I’d had a very vivid dream and wondered how their minds work. From my POV, they’re unrealistic and full of illusions and delusions.

Proof of this to me is that Trump says one thing, does another, and it doesn’t work out. He’s done this all his life. He’s had failed businesses and bankruptcies. His supporters say, yes, but he’s a billionaire. Yes, but we know that he built that off his father’s empire, inheriting substantial money, lying, cheating others, suing others to bully them to ‘go along with him’.

Trump breaks promises, laws, rules, and norms. He broke businesses; now he’s breaking our nation, and maybe the world. He’s certainly has made it much messier.

Anyway, with those thoughts stacking in my mind, The Neurons responded with a Supertramp song, “Dreamer”, in the morning mental music stream. That actually had roots in the lyrics “Far out, what a day, a year, a life it is”. Of course, I was shaking my head as I thought it. *smile*

“Dreamer” is a simple song. I found a video of it being done as part of the Night of the Proms series. I always like how the orchestras add to the song. Honestly, I find it fun to watch the musicians and choir.

Hope your day progresses with joy, happiness, and good vibrations for you.

Cheers

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