Friday morning, October 18, 2024. Outside air temperature is 31 degrees F. Doesn’t stop the floofs from wandering out into sunshine. Heavy sunshine, no clouds, and sharp blue sky herald the trees’ autumn gowns. They show off vivacious, vivid golds, lemons, ambers, scarlets, reds, and orange among the greens. It’s a new show every year. Our high today will be in the mid 60s.
I got struck with a fake virus popup scam. Where they want you to buy, download, or call somewhere to get rid of it. Go in and clean it out later. Right now, it’s just an annoyance.
Picked it up when I was looking for birthday flowers for Mom last night. Clicked on one site. It came up with the standard thing about wanting to send me notifications. They seem like beggars to me with that ubiquitous plea, “Want me to send you notifications?” I can see them at a traffic corner, newspaper and water in hand, ready to clean your windshield for you. Anyway, I clicked no, of course, and bang, here was the scam. Deep grrrrrrrrrrooowwwlll.
I have a Twenty One Pilots song in the morning mental music stream (Trademark scammed). Song came out in 2009. The Neurons plucked it out of the stuff floating in memory because I was out there with the cats thinking, hey, it’s a good day. That’s basically the sense of TOP’s song.
Coffee warms my throat as I watch fat dark gray clouds sailing across the sky. Sunlight clears the clouds, dramatically lighting their heights. Looks like fall, alright.
Many people live by the weather when it comes to the season. I’m one of those. My attire today are jeans. Long pants. Long sleeve shirt.
Wind, chill, and rain, and lack of sunshine pulled the decision to don jeans free of my brain cells. Much as anything, it’s that feel to the air, the color of the sky, and the mood it all presents as winds chase leaves down the street, that the seasonal change is really here.
So, I’m wearing jeans, looking back on the hot, smoky summer, shifting my gaze toward the future, to the coming winter, and what it might bring.
Much like my ancestors probably did. Without the jeans.
It’s a stillish fall morning outside the windows. Rain’s been falling from darkly loaded clouds. They’ve overtaken the blue and sun today.
It’s Thursday, October 17, 2024. Chilly with that rain, the high will be 61 and the low will be 37 F. Freeze warnings are in effect for tomorrow morning’s early hours. On the bright side of matters, our air quality is excellent, just single digits.
Got a call this morning from the county emergency system. Today is the great shake-out. They wanted us to pretend an earthquake was underway and practice surviving it. I’ve been through a few smaller quakes so I easily imagined the shaking.
The situation provoked some pre-coffee thinking. When I was a child in Wilkinsburg, PA, I remember us doing a duck and cover under my desk, in case the commies launched their nukes. Then, in the military, we were always practicing surviving war and natural disasters. There were fake NBC attacks. Fake unexploded ordinance to deal with. And of course, nukes and EMP. What would happen if we lost our telecommunications; how would we survive? We practiced decoding messages which would send us to war, and other exercises to receive notification hostilities were over. My career’s final years saw me fighting simulated space wars. Throughout, I was engaged in war planning, getting ready to deploy equipment to some theater’s front lines, etc., and reporting on our efforts to get ready and be ready, briefing the general who was our commander five days a week at one assignment, and getting ready to brief him.
Naturally, here in southern Oregon, we stay ready for wildfires. We have checklists and go-bags for evacuation. I’m fairly prepared in that regard, as I wrote local plans, checklists, and guidance for evacuating bases for wherver I was, and trained others in executing that stuff.
Seems like a lot of my life has been about getting ready. I was getting ready to be an adult as a teen. Beyond getting ready for war and natural disasters during, I was constantly getting ready for flu season, to move to another assignment, and I was getting ready for retirement.
Now I’m getting ready for my foot surgery. Getting ready for Mom and Dad to pass. That could be my life motto: “Get ready.”
Of course, as I reflect on my needs to get ready as a child and adult, I think it’s better than the active shooter drills so many children now go through to get ready for the real deal. Their need is driven by people with guns walking into schools and committing mass murder. My need to get ready was much more abstract and distant.
I have a pre-op appointment for my foot surgery next Wednesday. It’s to get me ready for the surgery. Actual surgery takes place the following Wednesday. The pre-op appointment came out of the blue. No phone call or coordination about what time works best for me; just a sudden message through Mychart telling me that the appointment was made. Poor communication, to me, and sort of arrogant, and annoying. Like, hey, what if I was out of town that day? Fortunately, I’m not, but still…
Today’s music comes via Tom MacInnes’s website. I enjoy Tom’s posts about music history, along with his experiences as a teacher and a father, particularly his stories about reading with his daughter and his students. Yesterday’s post was “The Great Canadian Road Trip…Song #76/250: Sk8er Boi by Avril Lavigne”. I ended up with “Sk83r Boi” in my morning mental music stream (Trademark bopping). It’s a lively, energetic song, and completely free and clear of political nuances, so I latched onto that. I need a political break from scanning news on either side of the schism, and tales of polls, rumors, innuendoes, and courts. Just give me some simple teenage offering.
I’m pretty pleased with it as a song choice. The Neurons had been offering “The Monkey’s Uncle” from the Disney movie with the same title. I don’t know why the hell The Neurons chose that song. Never saw the movie, but I knew of its elements, and obviously that song and some of the other songs the movie offered. That was from an era of beach movies. I never dug ’em.
Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue in 2024. Coffee has been introduced to my systems once again and I believe I have a pulse. Here’s the music. Get ready for the election.
It’s 54 F degrees. 61 is being looked at as the high. Rain and clouds give us a sloppy wet one in greeting. It’s Wednesday, the humpiest day of the week. October 16. We’re on the tenth month’s downside. November and the holidays beyond loom behind an uncertain gray veil, put there by the impending elections and the uncertainty sown by Trump.
Well, for some of us. Others are all, que sera, sera.
Had coffee duty this morning. Ordered two Starbucks Travelers and delivered them to the Family Y, where a surprise birthday party for a 95 year old friend was being put in place by her daughter. Used to be our neighbors across the street. Life and circumstances changed that. Now she lives in a cottage in her daughter’s backyard closer to downtown, about 1.5 miles away. This woman — the 95 yo — no longer drives so she walks around town or takes the bus. She’s vigorously involved in her church activities and other charity, and she exercises three mornings a week at the Y. My appreciation of her and admiration for her remains broad and deep.
I was asked to assist through my wife, natch. Her daughter reached out to my spouse, and my spouse reached out to me. No problem. I was due to deliver the coffee at 9:15 and entered at 9:16. My wife saw me and exclaimed, “You made it!” She made it sound like I’d finished the Oregon Trail.
Today’s music in fact comes from the latest Trump rally fiasco. No, not the one where he left people out there without rides back, without facilities, water, or food, as darkness came down. No, this is another one.
Rather than continue after paramedics assisted the two people, Trump instructed his staff to just play music from a playlist he has personally curated and famously often turns on during dinners at Mar-a-Lago.
“Who the hell wants to hear questions?” Trump said at the event where the entire point was to take audience questions. “Right?”
What followed was more than 30 minutes of Trump swaying on stage and occasionally doing his well-known two-handed dance to some of his favorite tunes, chatting with the event’s host, South Dakota Gov. Kristi Noem, and occasionally interacting with attendees who were seated behind the stage.
“This is the weirdest church service I have ever been to,” a first-time rallygoer who did not give their name told NBC News of the music portion of the event, which opened with “Ave Maria.”
So rather than questions and answers about policy, as expected at a political rally, Trump delivered some dancing and music. And at least one attendee mused about it being a ‘church service’.
I mean, really, WTF is going on over there in MAGA land?
The music it inspired The Neurons to play in the morning mental music stream (Trademark blown) comes by way of Emerson, Lake, and Palmer. “Karn Evil 9” is all about the show. Guaranteed to blow your head apart. That’s how I feel ’bout many of the Trump shows. It’s a show with little substance. He gushs about himself and he insults others.
Off into the rain I go. Be strong and stay positive. Vote blue in 2024. Let’s keep sanity in the White House. Coffee and I have come together on a plan to jumpstart my heart.
Here’s the music. It’s a long one. Great drum solo. Cheers
We rocked and rolled into another autumn day. Blue skies, no clouds, lots of vapor trails.
Another Tuesday. Another October — my 69th October. I’m 68 but we don’t start counting until we’ve been alive for one year and I was born in July. And ‘nother 15, as this is 10/15/2024.
As the new weather norm goes, it was chilly, in the low fifties at night. Sunshine thrust in past trees and over mountains as the Earth rotated. The thermometer began clawing its progress up the scale. Now at 62 F degrees, 72 F might be here at 4 PM. Rain is anticipated at 5 PM, and that’ll change everything.
The wind is still and the air is clear.
This is floof weather. The boys — Papi and Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) — settled into favorite sunshine-favored spots in the backyard grass. Napping followed grooming, with interruptions to head lift for disruptive noises. But all is well for them.
They — the cats — inspired The Neurons’ music choice today. I checked on them after dressing. Seeing them in their sunshine spots, The Neurons jerry-rigged a Rihanna song with new lyrics: “We found sunshine in the backyard, we found sunshine in the ba-ackyard.” This was a butchering of “We Found Love” from 2011. Calvin Harris wrote it and Rihanna had a hit with it. After using it for their purposes, The Neurons introduced the proper tune to my morning mental music stream (Trademark hopeless) for the full experience. It’s a technotune with a driving beat that soon had The Neurons jumping and bouncing, a bit disconcerting as my body’s other cells were clamoring, “Where’s the coffee, huh? Give me coffee.”
Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue. Don’t know what history will say after this election but I’d like to give our nation a longer tenure as a democratic republic. Electing Harris will bend us toward that course. Selecting Trump will divert us further off course, as we saw from his first term and his behavior since.
The body finally had its coffee prayers answered. Here’s the music. Cheers
It’s a wonderful fall day, aka autumn, in Ashlandia this Monday morning. 14th of October, 2024. We’re approaching the month’s midpoint, don’tcha know. Skies as blue as Paul Newman’s eyes. Unabated sunshine splash off autumn’s colors. 71 degrees F outside now, with a few more degrees yet to be gained today before the sundown show begins.
I was out last night — early Monday morning, actually, but you know how our language is when you’re addressing a time that’s a half past midnight; it’s night but it’s morning — checking the sky for northern lights, asteroids, and meteors. Saw none of that. Was accosted by a spaceship. I believe they were aliens but could’ve been Trump supporters, as they were very weird. Anyway, the waxing moon was well short of full but the light it dished out into the night was impressive on its own. Lovely cool air felt me up and a serene silence serenaded me. Love nights like that. They lend a sense of calm optimism to me. With that moon, I could’ve called this Moonday.
Looks like the MAGA belligerence and lies toward FEMA in Hurricane Helene’s aftermess came home to roost. Funny, how when someone took a shot at Trump in PA, the GOP was all about softening the tone. Yet, now that a man was arrested for threatening FEMA in North Carolina amid stories that armed militia are threatening FEMA, the folks that were shushing the Democrats for their attitude and verbiage are letting the crickets sing in the silence. It is notable that many GOP leaders on the ground in North Carolina are pointing out that Trump is lying when he says that FEMA isn’t there helping. Sadly, mainstream media covers that news, and Trump’s MAGAts treat such media as fake news.
Got a ditty about “Jack & Diane” from 1982 in the morning mental music stream (Trademark flooding). Heard the John Mellencamp song on the radio as I aided my wife in her Food & Friends deliveries. This is our county’s version of Meals on Wheels. When I heard J&D, sitting in the car as my wife headed off to door knock, shout out “Food and friends,” and wait for the door to be answered so she could hand over the food items, I started listening to all the instruments employed. The song features an unusual, fragmented musical structure. Different instruments are employed to suggest moods in a way not usually employed in rock music. I think I even heard a recorder or a flute toward the song’s end among the pianos, guitars, drums, and clapping.
It also stayed in my head because I modified the words after I returned home and sang, “Little ditty about Tucker and Papi, two house floofs doing best they can.” BTW, that’s Tucker, pronounced Tuck-ah. The song actually lends itself well to singing about the cats. Example: “Papi sits back, scratches his neck for the moment, washes his paw, and does his best lion king.”
Last note, I want to reiterate that Donald J. Trump is unworthy of holding office. Latest reason for me to make this declaration is his falsehoods, which are known as lies in many places, about Kamala Harris and her cognitive abilities. He likes reflecting back. Whenever he shows signs of something, he immediately uses that issue as a cudgel to bludgeon voters into confusion. Clearly, when listening to Trump and Vice President Harris, it is Trump and his windy, meandering, fraying, old ‘weave’ — and I’m not referencing that abomination on his head — is the cognitively impaired individual seeking our nation’s highest office.
Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue in 2024. We will need all of these things if we’re going to subdue the Orange Menace and his anti-Democracy hordes.
Coffee and I have furthered our fling.
Here’s the music. See if you hear that woodwind somewhere around the 3:17 mark. Cheers
Another autumn day has been sprung on us in Ashlandia. We shouldn’t be surprised; it is October 13, 2024. Yet, here we are. Facing a blue sky and unimpeded sunshine, we’re braving 54 F right now. 77 F is on the way. All those gorgeous sunshine highlights the unabashedly fall foliage. It’s a good day for leaf peeping — leafping — if you’re into that. Even if not, it can be a pleasurable way to ease through this October Sunday. Our air quality is good.
I spent last night drilling through emails, blog posts, and articles as the Oregon Ducks defeated the Ohio State Buckeyes on national television turned on in my background. Most of the news can be categorized as ‘dumb shit Trump said or did’. Exasperating. But going through Crooks & Liars, I listened to Lennie Kravitz with Slash from GNR playing “Always on the Run” from 1991 on Jon Amato’s Late Night feature. Haven’t heard the song for a few election cycles and it simmered and stewed overnight. The Neurons put it on play in the morning mental music stream (Trademark running) this morning.
Just 23 days until November 5, 2024. It’s getting raw out there. Most pushback against Harris claiming victory comes as ‘reasoning’ masquerading as racism, sexism, fear, or bullshit. Like the folks whining, “I don’t now if she’s up to being President.” Doesn’t stop them from voting for a convict and failed President, though. They apparently think he’s up to being President even after many of his former staff declare that he isn’t. And that was when he was years younger. Now on the short end of his late seventies, he’s demonstrating many of the same issues that had people wringing their hands over President Biden returning to the White House.
I will say that AARP’s little political foray pissed me off in their mailer. They claim, ‘Oh, we’re non-partisan. We’re just giving both sides of the issues. Here’s what the candidates said.’ Paraphrasing for them.
Like, what a crock. Like Trump isn’t carrying the baggage of being a felon, on record for lying, lying, lying, and more lying. Like he didn’t take classified documents, lie about taking them, and refused to give them up, and then lied about that. Like Trump isn’t an ignorant blowhard who makes unfounded claims and accusations with every speech. Like Trump didn’t incite an insurrection and lie about it. Like Trump has any principles or values beyond how he can wring more money out of others for himself. Like Trump cares for anyone except himself.
Like Kamala Harris isn’t an accomplished individual. Like she wasn’t the Attorney General in California. Like she wasn’t a U.S. Senator. Like she hasn’t been Vice President for almost four years. Like she hasn’t articulated and written about her positions.
Hopefully, the people going through AARP’s piece will read and think about what Trump said, as most of it is vague promises and claims about how great he’s gonna make everything, just as he vaguely claims every year, every day, without changing much for the good.
Of course, I despair that anyone voting in this election is depending on AARP guidance after all the news being blared across the ether 24/7. But we know what kind of world it is and how some folks function. That’s why there’s a vein of undecided voters causing tremors about how the election will play out.
Be strong and positive. Vote blue in 2024. Vote for Kamala Harris for President. I’ve had some coffee, so I’m ready to go. Here’s the music video. Cheers.
Clouds and sky share uneven, uneasy streaks. Blue and white. A muted sun brings light but not much fresh heat. Shadows barely break out of the ground at the sun’s touch, faded dreams of being on the grass and asphalt. A smoky nuance curses the air’s freshness. I don’t know where the fire is but I suspect someone has their fireplace going.
This is autumn. This is fall.
It’s Friday, October 12, 2024. While we’ll see a high of 77 F, right now it’s 52 and feels more like 48.
Those shadow thoughts, along with dream remnants brought up a song by Joy Division. Joy Division was a group of hugh promise and potential in my eyes. I heard them while stationed at Brooks AFB in San Antonio, Texas, after returning from my Philippines assignment. San Antonio had a terrific rock FM station where I’d hear music way different from the chart busting rotation of the more commercialized stations.
“Shadowplay” from 1976 is circulating in the morning mental music stream (Trademark faded). Don’t think I’ve ever heard it on any venue outside of a movie once or twice. I didn’t have any Joy Division albums that I recall but many years later, when stationed in Germany, a friend had the album which featured this song. We listened to it and reminisced.
Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue in 2024. I’m working out some coffee now, testing how it fits in with my taste buds, see if it’s a keeper. Here’s the music. Cheers
It’s supposed to be Thursday. Where I sit, it feels like Saturday. So it’s a hybrid day, officially Thursday, but more like Saturday in feel. Thurturday.
By the numbers, this is October 10, 2024. 54 F, it’s mildly cloudy. Highs might top 80 F, and there’s a chance of leaf showers. They’re coming off the trees fast in my backyard, energizing memories of being out there with a rake on a chilly day under a cloudy sky, cup of coffee off to one side to sustain me, raking and bagging. Sometimes, it would lightly drizzle. I prefer to keep the leaves in place as mulch but my wife dislikes that approach, so I put myself out there and get ’em up.
Pleased that Hurricane Milton seemed to have skimmed Florida without too much devastation and loss of life. Considering Milton’s smaller size but more powerful winds, we worried here in Oregon about what was going to happen. But Milton swept through fast. Yes, there’s some damage and flooding, and loss of life. Sorry to hear of all of that, of course, but that the levels of these things were not on the scale of Helene is a sort of release.
Now, I’d appreciate it if we could go without a hurricane for a while. I’m sure others have much stronger feelings on that than me.
With this mild but dry, warmish weather, the house floofs are making it their business to tuck in for long naps in their favorite yard spots and while out time with a snooze fest. I check on them regularly, and each will come in, tail up, for attention, food, or treats, but only after long hours outside sleeping. Guess these are the floof days of autumn I’d always heard about.
Today’s song is A Flock of Seagulls with “I Ran (So Far Away)” from forty-two years ago. It started in the morning mental music stream (Trademark purrfect) after a floof incident. Papi the ginger blade was the catalyst. Stepping from the house as Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) walked toward it, Papi darted at Tucker and made a little swipe. Toothless elderly Tucker, stopped, half-turned, and used his one good eye to give Papi a stare. Papi responded, “Whoa, shit,” and blazed across the yard to a tree. Springing halfway up it, he hung on and looked back at me. I thought his expression said, “See how far I ran away?” Seeing that (as I chuckled and Tucker completed his journey into the house), The Neuons kicked on the Flock with “I Ran”.
Stay positive, be strong and merry, and vote blue in 2024. I have introduced myself to a cup of coffee. Here’s the music video. Dig the hair. Cheers
Tuesday has slid in safe on October 8, 2024. Autmer continues holding the skies. Temp now feels like it’s 65 F but it’s only 56 F. What kind of madness is the weather doing to us, making the temperature feel so different from its actual temp? Makes me suspicious of the weather. Next thing you know, it’ll be raining but will feel like snow. Or it’ll be snowing or it’ll feel like sun.
The high will reach for the upper seventies and maybe get to the low eighties. Depends on its reach. Who knows what it’ll feel like? I think it’ll feel pretty good, no matter what the final temp. That range is ideal to me. Sky is again solidly blue. Yellow and red leaves are drifting from trees. The mood is shifting toward fall. People are decorating their houses for Halloween. So really get into it, but we’re more circumspect.
The price of candy is shocking us. My wife pointed it out at BiMart the other day: 5 pounds of candy for almost $40. Wow! Costco has 30 candy bars on sale for $32. Like, those are crazy prices to the boy who first began buying candy bars as a nickel treat. A nickel now won’t get you within smelling distance of the wrapper.
But this is change’s nature. Older friends talk in amazed tones about how the housing prices have changed. One was offered the chance to buy 6 acres for $50 grand decades ago. The deal outraged him. “Are you crazy?” he asked his friend. “I thought you were giving me a deal.”
“That is a deal,” the friend replied.
My buddy eventually bought a decade later for much, much more. Divided into quarter acre lots, those lots were now going $20 to $50 grand each. Things change, and prices are part of it.
Since I’m on my box and ranting, used to be that I got a haircut for one dollar. One dollar! Now I exit $25 to $30 lighter.
Housing, of course, is center stage in the price debate. Out here, ‘affordable housing’ is jumping over $200 to $300 K. Solution: built more housing. Problem: land. Water. Infrastructure. Rising costs of building more getting pushed further up by the rising need to build more.
Like many, I’m watching Hurricane Milton ploughing toward Florida. Was a cat 5 but has weakened to a 4 and may be a 3 before it hits, thank goodness. Fingers crossed.
Forgot to mention the SOU Pride Parade which took place the other day. I was kept from attending by other plans but I hear it went well. Here’s a link to the Ashland.news coverage with some pix. We also didn’t attend the OSF Gala but we heard from friends who didn’t attend that it was fun and raised $750 K for the festival’s 100 year celebration coming up.
We’re down to 28 days until election day. 28 days. We could make a movie about it. Call it “28 Days” or “28 Days Later”.
Thinking of that gap from here to there and the waiting, news, campaigning and hyperbole which must be endured encouraged The Neurons to fire up Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. “The Waiting” from 1981 is rolling through the morning mental music stream (Trademark delayed). Wikipedia’s entry quotes Petty as being inspired by something Janis Jopin said.
Frontman Tom Petty explained that the song’s title was inspired by a quote from fellow musician Janis Joplin, who once said of touring, “I love being onstage and everything else is just waiting.”[4] He recalled:
That’s where I think I got it from … [Roger] McGuinn swears that he said it to me. Maybe he did. I don’t think so. I think I got it from the Janis Joplin quote. That’s where it stuck in my mind. I don’t think she said, ‘The waiting is the hardest part,’ but it was something to that effect: ‘Everything else is just waiting.’ And so that’s where that came from.
Got me to thinking…imagine Tom Petty and Janis Joplin performing live together. Would that have been cool or what?
Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue in 2024. Coffee has cast its magic in me. Here’s the music. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 