Part of the annual spectacle is the halftime show, which expanded from marching bands in early years to a huge production with significant musical headliners. This year’s show is headlined by Bad Bunny and Green Day.
Bad Bunny is one of the current era’s hottest young entertainers. The Bad Bunny choice has agitated conservatives. Many decree Bad Bunny as a bad choice becausethey want an American, and they don’t like that he sometimes performs in Spanish.
I was floored. A Puerto Rican, Bad Bunny often performs in Spanish, because that’s a natural language in his area. I want to scream at them, “Don’t you understand that Puerto Rico is part of the United States? Bad Bunny is an American.”
Their ignorance is probably one reason Bad Bunny performs in Spanish.
Greetings to my fellow humans and coffee ants. It’s Wenzda! Humpda! December 17 2025.
Ashlandians find ourselves in warmer weather with less fog. We’re hanging at about 40 degrees F. Light gray clouds with low bellies soldier past sunlit dark green evergreens. The clouds tear and break as they meet the trees. Another slice of sky features darker clouds mingling with bright blue sky. All shines with a rainy sheen, waiting to dry off. Today’s high will strike 47 F, ‘they’ say. We’re unsure they’ll be correct.
Slop is the word of the year. Hard to argue with that. In this information age, disinformation sown and furthered by AI’s efforts to entertain and uneducate the masses while undermining political will and decision-making owns many media outlets and social platforms.
Some of this is deliberately done. Feeling down? Go shopping! Look at these deals!
Not into shopping? Tune into NASCAR. NBA, NFL, college football, college basketball, hockey, volleyball, oh, boy the Olympics are coming! The world cup!
Eat our new food! Buy our new stuff! Watch our new show! Enjoy our new movie! Don’t like them, then watch the old movies, the old sitcoms, the old dramas, and remember how it used to be. Don’t think. Just sit back and relax. Let us take care of you.
What a way to end the year, mired in slop, wondering WTF is going to happen next year. Will the U.S. wage open war on Venezuela or go all in with Russia against the Ukraine? Trump is all for that. War for peace. “We can only win peace if we’re strong enough to fight for it,” he’ll snarl. And enough Americans are simple enough to eagerly nod agreement. We got all that military power. Shame not to use it, right?
Thinking about slop as the word of the year has The Neurons laughing. “Slop is the word is the word that you heard. It’s got groove, it’s got meaning. Slop is the time, is the place, is the motion. Slop is the way we are feeling.”
The Neurons might be on to something this time.
Anyway, they slotted “Grease” as sung by Frankie Valli in the movie, Grease, in the morning mental music stream. Except we’re singing ‘slop’ instead of ‘grease’.
Okay, coffee is greasing me up. Hope peace and grace break through the slop and make a cameo sometime in 2025’s final days. Here we go again. Cheers
Through the fog creeps Thirstda, November 11, 2025. 52/57/48 are the numbers for the day: present, high, low. It’s a remarkably narrow range, with fog and clouds gaining the lower hand over the sun’s position as an influencer.
Mom continues to improve and impress, according to sis. Had her first PT session today and did great! Wife, on the other hand, is not doing well, in her words. Not surprising for me. She and stress aren’t good friends. Her anxiety climbs and she becomes physically challenged with a great deal of pain. She’s working through her protocols to cope. As for me, other than physical limitations and restricted diet, I feel fab. Didn’t do much yesterday except nibble on crackers and binge on a series called “Suspicions” with short naps. Found I wasn’t comfortable sitting at the desk, as that strained my abs, so the planned typing didn’t come about. Tried other places and positions but all felt wrong and I didn’t have enough to push through. Part of this is because my wife gave a steady stream of reminders not to do too much. I didn’t want to add to her stress, so I backed off.
I also ate too many crackers, I think. I had some vegan, gluten-free vegetarian broth. No flavor, at all. Really disappointing, so I went back to the crackers. We had picked up some TJ’s garlic-flavored naan crackers, water wafers, and something from Costco, potato crackers seasoned with seaweed. I didn’t think much of the water wafers, but my taste buds highly rated the other two.
Plans today are to catch up on writing, reading, and blogging. I finished reading my last two books, both fiction on my travels. Gravity’s Rainbow is available at long last. Yes, I confess, I haven’t read the classic. Found it in the library system and put it on hold back in July. I began reading a terrific (so far) historical fiction book by Amy Stewart called Woman Waits with Gun. Ironically, I’d purchased it at Half-Priced Books in Monroeville on the 2023 visit to attend my nephew’s marriage in Pittsburgh. I know this because the receipt was inside. It sat in the TBR stack by the bed until I came back from Pittsburgh. I’d just finished a romantasy and a crime thriller and needed a read, and ‘lo, there it was.
Over on streaming land, we are into the latest season of “Slow Horses” and “Down Cemetery Road” and are ready to begin “King and Conqueror” and the latest season of “Diplomat”. This is augmented by “The Graham Norton Show” and rewatching “Would I Lie to You”. I cut the last short because laughing and coughing really rile my incisions.
Today’s music is out of dreamland again. The Neurons, looking over my shoulder as I reviewed my strange and amusing dream, came up with “Rocket” by the Smashing Pumpkins, in the morning mental music stream. That was sort of funny on their part, as I’d been dreaming about being on a spaceship. I’ve gone through this before, dreaming of being traveling in space, then awakening to bafflement about where I am.
Another of my dreams was very short. This was about kittens gamboling on me, mewing until I got up to feed them. I thought there were two kittens but when I put out the food, four more appeared with sharp cries, “Me, too!” I rhetorically responded, “How many kittens do we have,” as one more little grey fluff of floof waddled in. That was all the dream offered.
I’ve been looking at news but don’t have many thoughts on it at this point. Trump is being Trump, as far as I can tell, with all the mendacity, greed, and arrogance that implies.
Hope peace and grace find their way out of the fog to you. My body is suggesting it’s time to lay down again. Think I’ll do as it says. Cheers
I honestly believe there is only one movie that I’ve watched more than five times. There aren’t any television series which I’ve watched that often.
There are many television series which I enjoy but many don’t age well as I watch them again. I know them too well and their tricks and surprises fade. Even series such as Seinfeld, The Expanse, Red Dwarf, Justified, Bosch, Deadwood, Game of Thrones, Slow Horses, and The Line of Duty, which I have thoroughly enjoyed, haven’t been watched more than three times.
As for movies, I have watched several Clint Eastwood movies several times. Like Pale Rider, High Plains Drifter, and Unforgiven. Movies such as Field of Dreams, This is Spinal Tap, Die Hard, The Hunt for Red October, Elf, The Godfather, The Abyss, Predator, Alien, Romancing The Stone, and Bladerunner have been seen more than once, along with The Conversation, The French Connection, Toy Story, and Strange Brew.
As far as watching any movies more than five times, there is one. Wasn’t like my niece, though. She’s a total Titanic head. Born two years after the 1997 movie about the 1912 sinking of the RMS Titanic, she has seen that movie 51 times. Owns a DVD of it, of course. Also a book about the movie. Or three. And a model of the RMS Titanic.
Yeah, I’ve never gone that far. I have watched A Christmas Story more than five times. I need to sort of couch that, though. I have deliberately watched it at least four times over the years, but illness one year put me over the top. Sick with the flu, I turned on the television and tuned it to TBS. They happened to be doing a 24-hour marathon showing of A Christmas Story. So I had it on as I zoned in and out of sleep.
I’m pivoting to pop culture and movies today. Cuz Gene Hackman. The death of Mr. Hackman and his wife, Ms Arakawa, makes me long for the details and explanations of what happened to them. The open door, the space heater, the pills, etc. Makes me want to write a novel to explain it but my explanation would go off the rails and Gene Hackman would probably end up as a retired secret agent who used acting as a cover.
I enjoyed his work, though. He made his characters seem real and nuanced. As I read different tributes about Gene Hackman, I encountered a decent story in The Hollywood Reporter that listed Gene Hackman’s ‘ten best scenes’. I don’t disagree with their list. I’m not an expert on films (though I sometimes pretend to be to impress others) but I did enjoy all these movies.
Here’s their list. You can check out their whole story. For me, Gene Hackman’s top three films were Unforgiven, The Conversation, and The French Connection, with The Royal Tennenbaums lucking just outside those three.
It’s a balmy sprinter day. I thought winter had the upper hand but then sunshine cleared its throat and gave a roar and clouds parted like, WTF was that? A wind has genned up. A winter iciness was embedded in its front end but that wind fell away to a warmer, friendlier fellow.
Today is Sunda, February 23, 2025. I’m in a chillin’ and willin’ mood. My wife seems a little off. I know back pain has been needling her on top of what we endured with the passing of Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) and politics like the bullshit SAVE act and other assaults on women’s rights. She answered, “I think I feel a depression coming on.” Sorry to hear that. “What ’bout you?” she asked. “How are you doing?”
“Emotionally coming back up, physically strong, intellectually sharp. But I have had coffee, so….”
57 F outside now, we don’t expect much temperature increase past this. Some clouds sometimes rush past and spit at us. In other words, it’s a variable, sunny, cloudy day with strong winds and a chance of rain in Ashlandia.
I’m off to a late start with this post. I typically get up, go through the dreams, do some meditation, then feed cats and myself and begin writing. Today, I was thinking about politics and went in and wrote a lengthy post first off — after feeding the cat, of course. I mean, I’m not inhumane.
After writing and posting that, I did my leg massages, ate, and now, here I am. I heard “Livin’ on the Edge” by Aerosmith on the radio yesterday. That’s a song for the times, I thought. The Neurons agreed. They kept the 1993 song going in the morning mental music stream. And why not? The song was written in the wake of the 1992 Los Angeles riots. Those riots came after people reacted to four white officers being acquitted of using unnecessary force when they severely beat Rodney King. His beating was a trigger point for already existing issues.
[Verse 3] There’s something right with the world today And everybody knows it’s wrong But we can tell ’em no or we could let it go But I would rather be a hangin’ on
The line, “If you can judge a wise man by the color of his skin then mister, you’re a better man than I,” was part of a Yardbirds 1965 song, “Mister, You’re a Better Man Than I” by The Yardbirds. I thought I’d post that up here, too, because I like that connection across over almost thirty years of rock and roll.
Coffee has been snuck into me. Here we go, another day. Hope you have a great one, wherever you are. Cheers
Friday morning, November 22, 2024, and my first thought comes: it’s quiet.
Different around 11:30 last night. Sounded like B-52 formations taking off on full throttle out of Guam over our house as relentless wind bore down on us. Rain shattered the night with a Buddy Rich drum solo for a while afterward. Flash memories of being with Dad when tornadoes were roaring around us came up. Then came recall of being in typhoons with my wife in Japan.
Morning recon showed only the water barrell out of place. Glances up and down the street were given; trees and utility poles are intact and upright. Telephone and utility lines looped as expected. Cars remain parked, and roofs still grace houses. Looks like disaster was dodged. I hope other places are faring well but suspect tales of power outages, injuries, and death will come. Typically do when a bomb cyclone drops.
With the storm came warm temps. 49 F now, gray clouds and blue sky approach and retreat. Sunshine gives an uneven performance. We expect a 52 F high today.
This weather experience cajoled The Neurons into thinking of weather songs. “Oh, stormy, bring back the sunny days.” And, “It’s flooding down in Texas. All of the telephone lines are down.” And, “Here I am. Rock me like a hurricane.” Or, “Dust in the wind. All we are is dust in the wind.”
The Neurons eschew all that. The Pixies instead enter the morning mental music stream (Trademark buffeted) with “Stormy Weather”.
Having decided that my foot and ankle swelling was due in major part to my edema issues, I went on a green smoothie fast yesterday. Sodium intolerance and veinous insufficiency seem to be the bad actors behind my edema so I wanted to knock the sodium down a bit. I’m also wearing open-toe compression socks on both legs. Overall, the one-day treatment seems helpful. I was swollen by the day’s end but it didn’t seem like it was as bad as previous days. Slept with my legs up. The swelling dissipated, as it always does. It’s fluid moving from one place to another for me. Back on my normal diet today, although I’ll eat less and minimize my sodium intake. Sodium is everywhere, though, and difficult to escape.
As far as the actual surgery location and affected tendons, they seem to be doing well. Tenderness and sensitivity around the suture site is reduced. I hope to put a shoe on within a few more days.
Hope all of you out there are doing well. Coffee is being swallowed, working its magic through my cells. Here is the music. Cheers
We’ve crashed into another Sunday. It’s August 11, 2024. Jays are busy arguing outside. A whipperwill keeps some background song going. Distant car travel are reminders that others are out there and on the move.
60 F now, 92 F will be the high. It’s a comfy 74 in the house. Meanwhile, the air quality is in the moderate stage again, 82, but smoke discolors the blue sky mountain tableau. Thin smoky tendrils are slithering into the windows so I’ve shut ’em.
Not sure where our fire is from. Haven’t seen any recent models for wind and smoke. The Park fire still blazes away down in California, less than a hundred miles away. Started by a man rolling a car down a ravine, it’s closing on 400K acres of burned land.
Dozens of fires are burning in my state, Oregon. None are too close at this point. Fingers crossed and knock wood that that won’t change. Burning more than 459 square miles, the Durkee fire on the state’s eastern side along the Idaho border, is Oregon’s largest. Started by lightning, it ate through the hot, dry vegetation, killing cattle and wildlife and forcing evacuations. It’s 95 percent contained.
Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) and Papi have entered a new state of floofproachment. First, Tucker was giving chase after Papi a few times. Then, as Tucker sailed past Papi, Papi sniffed Tucker’s nethers and tapped his tail. Next, Papi was sitting at the open door. Tucker, walking by to leave, paused and leaned his had Papi’s way. Papi politely tapped Papi on the head, signalling, move on, buddy. Then the two were seen touching noses in a classic flooformational exchange. This is only what we’ve witnessed but we’ve not found any signs of more intense encounters, so we’re assuming they’re moving closer to trusting one another and maybe getting along. It’s only been almost a decade. Time is sometimes needed for these things.
The dancing theme continues for the time being. Pausing to think of songs with dance in the title and songs about dancing, a scroll of titles are unrolled. The one The Neurons seized and plugged into the morning mental music stream (Trademark tapped), “And We Danced”, a 1985 song by The Hooters. Why that dance song, oh Neurons of Mine, I politely inquired. Have some coffee and think about it, they replied. I’m still sipping the coffee and thinking. I got nothing.
Stay positive, be strong, and lean forward. Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Cheers
Another jigsaw puzzle was completed last night. I worked this one alone. Started last Saturday night, I finished Thursday evening. It was fun and easy. I enjoy his stylized simplicity, how he minimally incorporates shadows and textures as lines. It’s such a contrast to my style was I was painting and drawing. Somewhat like my fiction writing, I always focus on the interplay of shadows and uncertainty. It reflects my personal philosophy that most life is part of a large band of gray confusion.
Apologies that my photo isn’t sharper and clearer. Those are pumpkins on a wagon above the hat store on the right, and white chickens in the road.
Many more Wysockis were available at the library of things. I’m passing this one on to a friend because I think he’ll enjoy it, and picking up another.
Hi, fellow space voyagers. It’s Monday, March 25, 2024, on spaceship Earth. Rainy out here in Ashlandia this morning, the weather gods are now throwing sunshine our way. It’s 52 F.
I have bust a move in mind this morning. I awoke to dull sunlight pressing forward through the blinds. Tucker was asleep beside me. After checking the time, I told him, “Come on, time to bust a move. Or at least, go pee.”
As I took care of business, I thought of that expression, bust a move. The Neurons immediately activated the song “Busta Move” in my morning mental music stream (Trademark imploding). “Busta Move” was released by Young MC in 1989 and was quickly a hit and a dance floor favorite.
But I was thinking about the origins of the expression, “bust a move”. It seemed like we were using it before the song came out. It just meant, come on, move fast, to me. “Get going.” Then the song came out, and it was about getting up and dancing. Either way, it was about quickly doing something which generally involved a risk. When I thought about it more, it seemed like the Marines I was working with in the mid 1980s were using the expression to mean, come on, let’s go.
Maybe I’m remembering all that wrong but it is declared today’s song. I was telling myself to bust a move in conjunction with plans under contemplation.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote blue. I’ve had coffee, thanks. Haven’t finished a cup yet, but it’s my third attempt. Enjoy the music. Let’s busta move. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 