Tuesday’s Theme Music
Ashland, Oregon — Tuesday, March 3, 2026. Fog is drifting in from the west, slowly painting over the deep blue sky. Sunshine has us at 52 degrees F with a projected high of 61.
Papi has been in and out several times, like he’s expecting it to be warmer outside because it’s sunny but the chilly air keeps pushing him to return to warmth. He’s just executed the classic move of throwing himself down and rolling on his back while he was washing his face.
Relative quiet is drifting from the Mom front. I’ll take it but it’s one of those ‘waiting for the other shoe to drop’ quiets.
Quiet is not the word I’d use to describe the middle east as the joint US/Israel attack on Iran apparently encourage other regional nations to try to settle old scores. Afghanistan and Pakistan have border battles going on. US embassies have been attacked. Shipping — including a US oil tanker — have been attacked. Dubai’s airport has been hit.
Reverberations are spreading. Shipping has been diverted from the Strait of Hormuz and the average price of gas in the US jumped 11 cents overnight. The Dow, S&P 500, and NASDAQ all dropped.
Trump will dismiss growing worries about affordability as blithely as he dismissed military members’ deaths. I’m sure he’ll shrug and call it a sacrifice that has to be made. He’s not personally affected so he really doesn’t care, and it shows in his speech and behavior.
The war was supposed to be pre-emptive to stop Iran’s attacks on the US. I haven’t been able to find those incidents which Trump and Hegseth. I did find the chants from protestors about “Death to the United States”, but damage and deaths weren’t reported after those chants.
Seeing our rooms brimming with sunshine about half an hour ago, The Neurons fired up Cream and “The Sunshine of Your Love” but in the time I took to type this, fog has blotted out the sun and blue sky. The song is one of the major pieces of frenetic power rock which I grow up with as a teen. I went with a recording of a live rendition from the group’s farewell tour, just to see the young faces.
Hope your day carries you forward on positive energy and delivers good news and optimism. I’m off to the dentist for follow up, next phase of getting an implant.
Cheers
Friday’s Theme Music
Ashland, Oregon — Friday, February 20, 2026.
Dry, but cold — wintry — is how to describe today. Dropped down to 25 during the night but it’s now 45 F with a thin and thick clouds stewing in a pale blue sky. 45 is the day’s expected high.
First, I’m freaking ecstatic by the Supreme Court ruling striking down Trump’s tariffs. Now we wait to see if he attempts an edn around or ignores the ruling. I expect him to fully trash the ruling without expressing any real knowledge about it; the ruling goes against him so he will swear vengeance.
Now, too, he may be required to repay all those tariffs already collected. Trump will stall and lie on that, as he stalls so many times when he declares something is great, solved, or over, whether it’s things like the Epstein files, the wars he’s ended, or his healthcare plan.
Predictably, Trump also blamed recent bad economic news on the partial government shutdown. He also blamed that on Democrats, even though he’s in the White House and the GOP control Congress.
Of course he’s blaming Democrats. His deepest base will accept that because of their information channels. Indicators are, though, more people are turning away from Trump and his lies and policies.
Not surprising, either, that Trump seems to be preparing to go to war against Iran, position more war machines in that region. He probably thinks it’ll distract us from the Epstein files, the worsening affordability situation, and his growing unpopularity. Remember, this is a man who considers himself a unifier and ‘the peace president’.
I hoped to return to writing at the coffee shop today but decided I’m not well enough. Although much better, I have a sometimes hoarse, hacking cough, and breathing through my nose challenges me. Regretfully, I’ll holding off going there although I will — again — try to write at home. Meanwhile, my to-be-written list grows with new novel concepts. It’s starting to become as large as my to-be-read list.
Over on Mom’s Saga…
Per plans and agreements made between Mom, the social worker, and the assisted living facility, Mom was transported over to her new residence. Per their instructions to her, they requested payment. She said, no.
We the children are not surprised. We speculated Mom had a long game in mind. Agree to be moved from the hospital to the nursing home. Then refuse to pay. In her mind, she would then have to go back to her house. But for her to be taken there, she has to be released to a family member. We are all united that we will not pick her up.
We love our mother. We want her safe and happy. But she insists that she can live alone and care for herself. It’s been proven that she can’t. She won’t accept it.
It’s all hard words to write. Those are simple summaries of very long conversations between the five siblings.
This was why we pursued the 302 process. The county reversed it. They brought this on. We reiterated that to them today. Maybe they will learn.
It’s exhausting. Mom texts grandchildren at night. They text their mothers. The mothers — my sisters — alert the rest of us on group texts.
Sis has been magnificent, working on our behalf, working on Mom’s behalf.
That’s where it all stands today, Friday, Feb. 20th.
Here’s Arcade Fire with “Keep the Car Running”. It so ideally slots into my mood. I think Les Neurons made a terrific music choice. Essentially, it’s an Orwellian tale of a person having a recurring dream of being trapped in a city that keeps changing.
Lyrics h/t to Genius.com
Hope you have a day blessed with peace and grace, with a few fun things tossed in. Cheers
Little Things
My surgery has been over for hours. After catching up on sleep, I’m ravenous because I haven’t had food since ten last night. With a diet limited to cold soft foods, I’m eating sorbet and thinking about what I can eat.
My wife begins reading an article aloud. “Women are having problems creating intimate relationships with men because of men’s addiction to porn.” One part is about a woman asking men if they watch porn. They deny it until she shares what kind of porn she likes.
The story swerves into men spending hours in the bathroom. The writer mocks the idea that they’re having long bowel movements and mentions they probably wouldn’t be in there that long without their phones.
“They’re watching porn on their phones?” I ask.
My wife nods.
“I don’t get that. What in the world would you be able to see on that little screen?”
“I know.” My wife points at our television. “We have that big screen. I watch carefully and feel like I still miss a lot.”
“Yes, and people watch sports on their phones, too. I don’t get that. During football games, they’re always blowing up scenes to show, is the knee down? Was his toe out of bounds?”
“How do people see these things on phone screen?” my wife responds.
“Exactly.”
My wife puts her feet up and closes her eyes. It’s been a long day for her. She had to go in with me and stay for the entire surgery, then drive me home.
I finish my sorbet and wonder what to eat next that’s cold and soft and fantasize about a hot bowl of chile.
Marker
The cracks show –
Spreading
He missed them
At first
Clocking them
Only after
Others
Commented.
He finds
Life emptying out
Contemplating
His time chasing
Time
Until time ran
Out of
Sight
Leaving him
With
All the time
Needed.
Giving him a
Smile –
Clues were
Forever
There
An unfelt
Hand
Pushing.
Success & Processing: A Dream
Young, I dreamed I was in the military, except it seemed more like I both was and wasn’t. As the dream unfolds, you’ll see what I mean.
I was at my house, in uniform. It was this house where I live in real life, but located somewhere else. I was going through the house, thinking about what I needed to do when I received a phone call. An agent said a publisher was interested in my book and wanted to talk to me — could I come up next Tuesday?
Hell, yes, was basically my response.
Giddy with excitement, I shared the news with my wife. Then I was informed that the general was arriving for a briefing. Scrambling, I put together a PowerPoint slide presentation, finishing up just when the doorbell rang. The cats ran off as the general and his staff entered.
The general was tall, friendly, white, quiet, and very hands on. As I began the slide show, explaining things, he asked for the controls. Then he tried to take over but didn’t know how to work the controls. I showed him. He then ‘left’ the slideshow app and started going through the material.
At one point, the general stopped. Watching him reading the slide and working the controls, I guessed that he wanted to print something. I showed him how, which he quickly understood.
Noticing the television, the general asked if it worked and requested it be turned on. I turned the TV on but with the sound down. The general took a remote and tried changing the channels. This was an odd-looking remote that was like an old-fashioned television dial on rectangle. He turned the dial but nothing happened. I explained that we didn’t use that remote — it didn’t work with this system, and gave him the correct remote. He then turned the channel.
I took the laptop with the presentation on it to the printer area to retrieve the general’s printouts. Another general was there. This one was younger, less rank, chunkier, white, with a balding head, brown hair, and a thick brown mustache. He was also very gregarious.
I saw that this general was trying to make copies of something. Chuckling, he was saying, “I was ready to retire. I can’t believe I got this assignment. It just fell into my lap. This is wonderful.”
He walked off. Glancing at what he was copying — coupons — I discerned that he’d not done them right. Adjusting the machine and settings, I copied them for him, speaking to my wife as she came up. “Look, hon, he’s copying coupons,” because my wife used to be a coupon hound. She left and left that area as the short general returned.
I showed the short general the copies I made, telling him, “I think this is what you were trying to do.”
He thanked me, agreeing that I’d fixed it for him. Then he took a fat marker and circled something on the page. I didn’t see what and didn’t feel it was my business to look.
Suddenly, he said, “Will you go down and sell my house for me? I need to sell it but I don’t have the time. It’s next Tuesday. I’ll give you $10,000 to do it.”
Seeing me hesitate, he cajoled me into helping him out. On my end, I reacting to him but not saying anything. First, an extra ten grand? Hell, yes. Second, next Tuesday? I have something planned then. I’d need to do both. I also thought, look at all this great stuff happening.
Everyone left. I went around, thinking about all that had transpired. While seeing the guests off, I’d noticed that the yard was weedy and trees needed trimmed. I decided to take care of those things. I went into the house first to tell my wife about the short general’s deal.
Back outside, I discovered that the weeds had almost doubled in size and numbers while I was in the house. Well, I needed to take care of that quick, so I went in and got the equipment. Coming out, I began working on a tree. My wife came out and said something that I didn’t catch.
Dream end.
The Price of the Prize
In an old news story — two weeks ago, ‘old news’ in the smash and grab Trump news cycle — María Corina Machado, 2025 Nobel Peace Prize recipient, gave her prize to Trump.
I suspect she was secretly paid to give her prize away.
An effective front man for the executive branch’s growing lawlessness, keeping him placated is paramount. Otherwise, he began obsessing on losing the 2020 elections again.
Frustration was high. Nothing seemed to lift Trump’s mood. He wanted Greenland but Denmark wasn’t selling, even though he’d threatened more tariffs. His ballroom’s construction was mired down. ICE’s growing violence was driving his popularity and approval ratings to new lows, and the issue about affordability just was not disappearing. Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos were calling almost every day, ranting, “This is not what we paid for!”
“We need to meet,” Vought hissed to Trump’s cabinet. “Something needs to be done before senators and representatives start growing some balls because they’re going to lose an election.”
“Well, I’m out,” War Secretary Hegseth said. “We already abducted President Maduro from Venezuela. I thought that would make him happier.”
“I know,” Noem said. “We’re doing everything we can over in Homeland Security but now judges are growing a spine. Who do they think they are?”
“I agree,” Miller said. “I thought adding Trump’s name to the Kennedy Center would make him happier.”
“I have an idea,” Bondi suggested. “Let’s approach Machado and see what her price is for giving Trump her Nobel Peace Prize.”
Vice President Vance nodded. “A Noble Prize, yes! That sounds like the perfect pacifier for him.”
Feelers were put out to Machado. Their pitch was basic. “We’re in charge of Venezuela now. We can put you into office. Support you with the strength of the U.S. military. Fund your campaign. All you need to do is give Donald Trump your peace prize as a gift. Come on, what will it hurt? You said that you thought he deserved it. And the record will always show that you won. It’s a win-win.”
Officially, they said Machado came up with it on her own, perhaps in an effort to gain Trump’s support.
As far as they could tell, it worked. Other than another diatribe at Davos about losing the 2020 election again, Trump stayed on track.
“It’s still early days,” Miller reminded the rest at the next meeting. “I think we need to do something bigger, something to really put a smile on his face.”
Everyone’s shoulder’s slumped. “Think,” Bondi encouraged. “What can we do? Doesn’t anyone have any idea what will make him happier for a little while, at least until the midterms?
“Arrest Biden?” Miller said with wide-eyed eagerness.
“Too much,” Hegseth answered.
“What about this?” Bessent said. “Let’s have a Trump coin minted.”
Trump’s cabinet and advisors held their breath in thought.
“That’s more tangible,” Miller said.
Eyes bright and large over a grin, Hegseth exclaimed, “No living president has their name on a coin.”
Vought reached for the phone. “I’ll call our legislative lackeys and get them working on it.”
“Make sure it’s gold,” Bessent said.
Vought sneered. “Of course. We know that Trump is a fool for gold.”
“Okay, I think we’re done for today,” Bondi said. “Americans are getting angry. New polls will probably show that.”
Miller scowled. “That’s because he’s so great, misunderstood, and underappreciated.”
“Anyway,” Bondi continued. “We need to get ahead of the curve.”
Vought smiled. “Of course. Let’s get to work on those memorial gates he keeps going on about. We need some kind of TrumpCares program, too. Doesn’t matter what it does.”
“I’ll take that on,” Kennedy replied. “I know how he thinks.”
Relieved, the group filed out, feeling happier about the future for the first time in days. “It’s good to know to have a direction,” Vought said to Kennedy.
Kennedy nodded. “I just hope it makes Elon happy.”
Vance piped up. “By the way, has anyone seen Trump today?”
Michael Seidel, writer 