Tag: Dream

Thursday’s Theme Music — Fighting Fires

Ashland, southern Oregon — Thursday, June 25, 2026.

Cooler today — just 85 F — but the summer mix of blue sky and sunshine continues without interruption in our valley.

I haven’t been watching the World Cup games. Not my kind of football. But I dreamed that I was working with a gregarious black guy, trying to sell team jerseys to fans. He’d come into a large shipment of them at a discount, but he didn’t know what sizes he had. All had been manufactured outside of the US, and they weren’t using the labels familiar to me. I was using the Internet to help him size them so he could sell them.

Results are not back from Mom’s tests yesterday, except they have confirmed she doesn’t have a yeast infection. My sister, Gina, related that Mom was complaining about the sunglasses Mom was wearing: they were too big. She went on a rant that Frank probably let his sister, Joan, wear them, because Joan has a big head. She finished, “I could just kill Frank.”

Gina replied, “Mom, you do know that Frank died last year, don’t you?”

I feel like I’m in a variation of “We Didn’t Start the Fire” by Billy Joel. In that 1989 song, he recites court decisions, celebrity names, historic events, and pop culture fads and trends that took place between 1949, when Joel was born, to the current date in 1989. As I read the news, there’s a Billy Joel rhythm: Supreme Court rules, shooting leaves x dead, earthquakes, wildfires, flooding, climate change denial, Trump texts, Trump promises, Trump lies, Trump claims, distraction, distraction, distraction, fake news, elections, corruption, facts, truth, history, Epstein files, Epstein ballroom, tariffs, Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool, Israel, Gaza, Lebanon, Iran, Strait of Hormuz, Musk, Venezuela, Ukraine, Russia, China, ICE in the cities, economy, jobs, prices, prices, prices, crisis, crisis, crisis!

Trump didn’t start the fire. But he threw gasoline on it and gave it oxygen. He didn’t start it but we’re gonna fight it.

The song had a lot of airplay back in the early 1990s but has since faded. Not one of Joel’s better offerings, the chorus was pretty familiar to everyone because of the airplay.

Despite those thoughts, The Neurons have the Allman Brothers performing “Statesboro Blues” in my morning mental music stream. A favorite song and cover, it has a jumping, thumping sound to it which always kickstarts my energy.

I hope you have great day, summer or winter, wherever you inhabited for now, and that all goes well for you and yours.

I’m off to my appointments. Cheers

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Strange Clothing Dream

Had a strange dream last night.

At a school. Being taught.

Problems cropped up. Wasn’t certain where I was supposed to be or what I was doing. But a kindly man offered to help. Older, with trimmed hair. White and clean-shaven.

He helped me dress but the clothes were too small and tight. Seemed to me like children’s clothes he was trying to get me to put on.

I protested but I also thought it funny. Pointed out that the light gray shorts he had me in were so small that my penis was hanging out the bottom.

Gruffly, he dismissed my concerns. “Told me, don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

To which I just shook my head, disagreeing but not overly concerned, rather chuckling about it.

I went out on a small stage. Light brown wooden floor, varnished. No curtain.

I was in a spotlight. Dark theater. The man was behind me, out of the spotlight. Small audience, mostly women, sat at the front.

I wasn’t sure what to do. The women started calling out, “What are you doing? Get him some clothes. Can’t you see his pecker hanging out?”

Laughing, I told the man, “Told you so.”

Dream end.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Ashland, southern Oregon — Saturday, June 13, 2026.

Another June morning. 63 F, it feels cool and comfortable to me, “chilly” for my wife. Today’s high will peak in the mid 90s. A heat advisory is on for tomorrow as temperatures are going over 100. Temperatures are expected to drop on Tuesday — a little.

Nothing new from my family and Mom in Pittsburgh. Going through dreams occupied my morning.

I enjoyed this morning headline:

Trump’s name removed from Kennedy Center after blowing past deadline

One small step for decency, democracy, and justice.

But the Epstein ballroom is still under construction, and Trump is racing to build his Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! arch before the system can stop him.

Do we really need a monument to remind us of Trump’s ego? No. Sure won’t help with any problems we face. It’s just more by Trump, for Trump.

Seven states led by Democrats — Connecticut, Illinois, Maine, Massachusetts, North Carolina, Oregon and Washington — have withdrawn from the ‘Freedom 250’ fair. The states withdrew, citing costs and politicalization.

It started out as a celebration of the United States. As with anything with Trump involvement, he’s slowly made it less about that and more about him. For example, after many musical performers bowed out, Trump decided to replace them with himself as the opening act. He plans a ‘rally’.

Trump’s war with Iran goes on. The war has clocked 105 days. Peace is close, both sides agree, then argue about whether the other is telling the truth. It feels like, “Pot, meet kettle,” to me.

Gas prices in the US have dribbled down over the past few days as peace in Iran seesaws. Many best-case scenario project gas prices will drop to $3.75 gallon on average by November. In most dire predictions, $6.35 a gallon is projected as the national average.

I laughed at this headline today:

Man fed 32,754 of Donald Trump’s Truth Social posts to AI and one concerning observation stands out

The story continued:

Key takeaways

  • Self-Focus: AI found that Trump frequently centers himself in posts, with roughly 1 in 11 posts being self-praise, and his name appearing as the most common positive reference.
  • Conflict & Adversaries: Many posts involve accusations, criticism, and disputes, portraying Trump as both a victim and a winner in political and legal battles.
  • Posting Habits: Notable patterns include heavy capitalization (16% of posts), late-night posting (midnight–6 a.m.), and recurring themes of praise, boasting, and accusations.

We didn’t need AI analysis for these conclusions. They’re self-evident, something who isn’t part of the MAGAsphere has noted for years.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

“Wrong Again” Trump was wrong again. We the People built this nation. Men like him just conned people to make money from what others built.

Playing “Spelling Bee” this morning, I laughed and put in Levitake as a word. “Not on the list”, the system responded.

I think it should be. Levitake: to lift and remove something. In use: “They worked through the night to levitake Trump’s name from the Kennedy Center.”

The music playing in today’s morning mental music stream is “Fantasy” by Aldo Nova. The 1982 song started playing as The Neurons spied on me doing my dream review. It was because of the night breeze coming in the window, cooling me.

May your day progress with peace and grace, and bring you an abundance of joy and love.

Cheers

3

A Camaro Dream

I’d just signed a contract. Half of the money due me was paid and the other half would come later.

I was going next to visit my family. I decided I would surprise them. I bought four condos which were exactly the same, along with four 1968 Chevy Camaros, also exactly the same. Everything was in excellent condition. I can’t tell you what color the cars were, except they were immaculately polished and gleamed in the light.

I would be staying in one condo but I expected my sisters and Mom to stay in the other condos with their families. I would drive one Camaro; they would drive the rest.

Here it gets a little hazy. It’s about the keys. Whenever I got the keys for the cars or condos, there would be a green light.

I went to leave to meet with my sister, driving the Camaro I was giving her. First, I had to stop. There was unfinished business, leaves which needed to be moved away for Dad. I did most of those very fast, with the car door open and the engine running, then went off and picked up my sister and her son.

I told my sister to drive and told her the car was hers. She didn’t fully understand. I took her to the condos. Oddly, the three condos for the family were on one floor; my condo was alone, stacked on top of them.

I told my sister and nephew that this is where I’m staying and that it’s where I wanted them to stay as well. My sister worried about the expense. I kept telling her that I’d bought it and already paid for it.

Another sister arrived with her husband. I gave them the keys to their Camaro and showed them the four cars. They responded, “That’s nice.” I explained a few times that I was giving them the car. They finally got it and were shocked. My brother-in-law kept talking about the cars’ “mint condition”.

Other family arrived. Some young man from the condos came to help people with baggage. He asked, “Which condo is yours?” He seemed concerned about so many people staying in one condo.

I explained to him that I owned four of them but that I was giving three of them to my sisters and mother. I gave him the keys to their three condos. Catching on, he responded, “That cost a fortune.”

Mom was there, in her nurse’s uniform. She worried that she had to go to work. I kept telling her that she didn’t, but she was insistent.

It was raining, with light flooding. To go to work, Mom had to cross a muddy, swampy stream. I didn’t want her to cross because I didn’t think she would make it. But she went. As I watched, she fell into a hole and went underwater. I began rushing forward to help her but a large man showed up on the other side. Reaching down, he lifted Mom, drenched and covered with mud and weeds, and set her down on the other side.

Dream end.

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Tuesday’s Theme Music – Crashing

Ashland, southern Oregon — Tuesday, June 9, 2026.

Lightly rained off and on all day yesterday. We have a marbled sky today, gray and white against blue. Sunshine cuts through the clouds, darkening the mountain’s greenery with shadow islands. 56 F, our high will cut into the mid 70s. I don’t mind; give me this instead of the drought’s extreme dry and the blistering heat that usually strikes.

Gina is on the warpath, as we put it in my household growing up, a carryover from Mom and her generation and those before her. Mom called Gina with reports of theft and the lack of regular cleaning. Mom said that she’s been cleaning her own bathroom floors with wet wipes.

As the most confrontational of my family, Gina charged right in: this needs to be fixed. What’s the ‘or else’ implied? I’m not sure. It might be ‘more Gina’.

My wife got her latest ‘real ID’ yesterday. This one has the star. What will adorn them next?

Getting that for her required an appointment and a visit to the ‘big’ DMV in Medford. It was either go there or camp out at the Ashland DMV every morning and hope the Gods of Bureaucracy were kind.

She took in her birth certificate. Not the real thing, but a tattered, certified ‘photographic reproduction’ created in 1962. Much of the birth certificate’s entries were in cursive. The DMV agent, a very nice person, laughed about the struggles to read cursive, as she hasn’t had to in a while. That led to a sidebar about her children. They don’t know cursive and when she writes notes using cursive, they ask things like, “What language is that?”

That chased us into a conversation about signatures. The DMV agent said anything can be used and recognized as a ‘signature’. From further conversation, it appears that we’re basically going back to ‘making our mark’.

On the Trump side of things, my wife and I were talking about the food prices. My gosh, how they’ve gone up.

This morning had news about Scott Bessent, Trump’s secretary of something, claiming that prices are coming down. I’m sure you can cherry-pick and find some prices have declined. Overall, prices remain UP.

I did a search about Bessent’s claim and saw that he’s made that claim a few times the last several months. And as late as last November – 2025 – he was trying to blame Democrats for the prices. I know from Trump’s latest Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! pivot, aka the Trump Iran war, that Trump knows that prices are higher. He knows that the war is causing it.

*probably also knows his tariffs are causing them but won’t admit it because that would reveal he’s been wrong all along*

Trump, though, has pivoted. He’s not worried about high prices, affordability, or Americans’ finances, no; he’s saving us from Iranian nukes.

Ironically, of course, that was also the Bush-Cheney claim for the war against Iraq: WMD.

Yes, Trump and the GOP have dragged WMD back out of the closet. They’ve avoided using that phrase. That phrase — WMD — is loaded with baggage for US voters and the world.

It shows that in the end, Trump and the GOP only have three dimensions to their strategy: fear, distract, and cause dis-unity. For when facts, truth, and unity show up, Democrats win, and we move forward. Not evenly, and certainly not perfectly. But we move forward in our efforts against poverty, food deserts, climate change, and real challenges. Not fake challenges that are monsters only in unthinking minds.

Trump’s war is now 101 days old and counting. Iran shot down a helicopter. Trump vowed retaliation. That’s how it works with cease-fires with Trump.

The other big Trump news was about Trump attending the NBA game in New York.

  1. Trump couldn’t make time to go to his son’s small, private wedding, but oh, boy, he loved showing up at an NBA playoff game.
  2. The arrogance and selfishness Trump showed by going to that game, and its impact on fans’ ability to enjoy the game.
  3. Boos rained down on Trump. He heard it and tried to pretend it was cheering. LOL. But he knew it was booing, and he didn’t like it.
  4. A photo showed Trump asleep at the game. Real? I don’t know. But Trump has been shown sleeping at enough events that the photo has legs.
  5. Trump looks really bad. Sick. Tired. OLD. DOTTERING.

Not a good outing for Trump.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

The Epstein ballroom remains under construction. No new news on who is paying for it.

Trump’s approval continues its slow crash. Disapproval numbers show a sea of red. In a way, Trump is starting to live up to the vision he had of himself as a ‘unifying’ force; unity in disapproval of him and his policies is increasing.

My morning thoughts were about a dream that involved flying. The Neurons were snooping around, found out, and introduced “Aeroplane” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers into the morning mental music stream. Hope you enjoy it.

My hopes for everyone and everything is to go with peace and grace and make life better for all of us. Not just a privileged few.

Cheers

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The Airplane Crash Dream

I was on a large, modern aircraft filled with people. We were going on a long flight.

After takeoff, I was taken to the cockpit. It was airy and spacious. Windows showed the air around us but I could also see the planet below. It was a bright, beautiful day, with a few high clouds. Very cool.

I was told that I’d been selected to monitor the flight. Didn’t need to do anything; just be there.

Well, I could do that! It felt like some kind of honor. I settled into a chair and my role. The flight progressed…

Then, I was awakening on the flight deck. Klaxons were blaring. I could tell from perspective and angles, we were MUCH lower. I thought, oh my God, we’re going to crash. And I’m going to be in so much trouble.

Then I was irritated because, why didn’t someone already respond, come up, and take over. Then I thought about pulling on the controls and trying to take us to a higher flight level.

I thought, ARE YOU NUTS? Don’t touch the controls. You might make it worse.

Then, in a weird dream shift, I was on the ground at the airport, in the working part of the airport, waiting for the plane to craft, fretting about the trouble I was going to be in. I ran into a friend who was on the flight; he was worried about being in trouble, too.

We had to keep moving to stay out of the airport workers’ way. My friends explained that there were five of us in positions like me, people who were supposed to be watching things, so there was trouble to go around. At the same time, the people who were supposed to be on the job were not, so they would also be in trouble.

Exactly, I agreed.

Meanwhile, a young female set up equipment on a table not far from us. She was going to monitor the aircraft’s progress from there because they might need to blow it up. She was busy and couldn’t explain more about this process.

Then I heard others saying, “Look, what’s that?”

I went out. They were pointing up. The sky was blue but a bright white fireball was going across it.

That’s the jet, I thought. Then I thought, but that could be a meteor. Or a comet or asteroid.

Then I thought, wait: how am I on the ground, waiting for the plane to crash? That didn’t make sense.

I then went back in and decided to change clothes so I could walk around more. Then I thought, how do I have my clothes on the ground with me if we’re waiting for the aircraft to crash? How did we all get off the aircraft, if it’s still flying?

That didn’t make any sense.

Dream end.

NOTE: When I wrote up this dream this morning, I saw how much of it paralleled what I was going through with writing. I set aside “Unfocused” after several drafts to let it cool, get some distance. Then I began working on “A Tribe Called Death”. As I hit page 70, I was frantic because that novel took some weird turns and left me flailing about where to go, what to do.

I calmed myself: hey, this is the first draft, nimrod. Just write. And by the end of the day, a character had taken a position and showed me the way. I think the dream reflected that whole process, in its own way.

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The Cork Dream

I dreamed I was at my mother’s house. It wasn’t her real-life house but I knew what it was in my dream. Although everything was white, there was little light.

I was trying to open some kind of cistern. As it transpired, I knew that it was wine I tried opening, to see how it was. It was supposed to be red wine.

I was being very careful, meticulous, because I worried about the cork falling apart. But it wasn’t the ‘traditional’ cork stopper, but a round, flat circle.

My youngest sister joined me. She asked what I was doing and I softly explained it as she leaned over me and watched. I had just gotten the safely out when something fell into the wine.

I asked my sister, “Did you see that?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Was that a piece of the cork falling in?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so.” I sat back. “All that work and I got it out and then it broke and fell in.”

I smiled at her. “Oh, well.”

Laughing, she replied, “I know.”

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Black & White, Gardening & House: A Dream

I was working on a house. The house was a modern place, already completed, but I felt that changes were needed. I thought it was my house but sometimes as I worked on it, I thought it belonged to someone else. But I felt very sure that I had the right to change things

The house was white, a modern flat roof box. A breezeway separated the house from a spacious garage. The driveway was white, paved, and in excellent condition.

I decided to change the house’s material. I did so almost without thought – just done. As result, the house, which had been white, was now black or charcoal gray.

Family came by and asked why I did that. My father, who died last year, stopped by and asked why I’d changed it. Doing something else, I absently responded that it was a temporary move and that I would return it to white and could do so whenever I wanted.

Dad shrugged. “Well, whatever you want to do,” he said. “That’s your business. I’m sure you know what you’re doing.”

Those were words Dad often used. Sometimes he said, “I hope you know” rather than “I’m sure you know”.

Dad then took me to a garden section. Plants were growing there – tomatoes, onions, carrots, radishes, lettuce. He explained to me what to plant, where to plant it, how to fertilize and water it.

He left, expecting me to continue. I did so but was dissatisfied. He had a lot of starts which he wasn’t using. My sister came along. I was looking at the plants decided not to use. For example, a tomato plant already had several pieces of red fruit on it. I could see it visibly growing, so I decided I would add additional plants. I talked my sister into helping me. Although the plants weren’t as tidy as what Dad had done, I felt they had great potential.

He came by. I showed him what I’d done. Then, almost as an afterthought, I changed the house back to white.

Everyone could immediately see the difference in the house. They all then clamored for me to do that for their houses.

Dream end.

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Snow and Fire: A Dream

I was younger, traveling with my wife and a small group. We were in separate vehicles. I knew I was traveling with a group but none of them stand out in memory.

There was a snowy mountain involved. My wife and I were leading the way, driving in an SUV, heading to a site of four cabins partway along our journey. The cabins weren’t our destination but just a stop.

I was driving and we were well ahead of the rest. My wife and I arrived as dusk began. It was on a slope, heavy snow, with large bare and fallen trees. I felt that some paths and parking for the others were needed and set to work doing that. While I made progress, time was limited, and I needed the proper equipment, so I went on.

Reaching a large conference center, I gathered my people. They were a small group – six to seven, I think. A larger conference was going on. I called my people together to talk about what I’d already done and also to note that we needed equipment to clear out the snow around the cabins, but we also needed to move some stuff.

That last seemed important to me. While I don’t specifically know what I was moving, I knew it was big, heavy stuff. Challenging for a small group, I was hoping the other conference’s attendees would overhear us and offer some help.

That didn’t seem to happen. I went back to the cabins with my wife. Arriving there, I now had a red piece of equipment to move the snow away. While I started doing that, I thought I saw some trees smoking.

I examined the trees. They turned out to be short, gray wooden statues carved from tree stumps. I confirmed they were smoking to me and went back to get my wife’s opinion but also to call it in.

She confirmed what I saw. While we were talking about it, a large group of teenagers arrived. They began climbing on the statues. I went over to warn them that I thought the statues were smoking and might be on fire. As I told them this, I pointed out the smoke to them, and then spotted open yellow flames on one of the statues. I then made everyone move away. I also spotted a statue that had turned into smoking black char, telling me that had been happening for a while.

My wife wanted me to go get help. She said she’d stay there but I felt that was unsafe for her and said, “No.” I explained my thinking and she accepted that.

I then went back in and got on a red telephone to call someone for help with the snow removal, getting the students to safety, and putting out the fire. It was both a friend and an authority in charge of such equipment. He began talking, assuming he knew why I was calling. It was noisy and hard to hear. My wife was with me and I told her, “He’s assuming things.” Then I told him, “No, listen to me. That’s not what’s happening. There are three things going on here. Pay attention.”

He promised to pay attention and then said he’d send help.

Dream end.  

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