Tag: fog

Sundaz Theme Music

Sunda, January 11, 2026, silently settles in around us in Ashland. My wife and I gage the outside weather together.

Alexa told us it’s 36, cloudy, with fog and stagnant air, and a high of 56 F upcoming. My system says it’s 30 F.

“Look at the fog,” my spouse intones.

I nod. “Fortunately, it’s the invisible kind.”

Yes, we can see blue skies, sunshine, and the treed mountains as far as forever and perspective allow us. I suppose other parts of Ashland are soaked in fogs, cloud, and warmer air, and that’s where Alexa gleans her report.

Sis reported that Mom was very loopy this week. Mom again fell out of her wheelchair, again insisting that the chair ‘threw her out’. Sis and I have seen Mom in the chair and warned about leaning too far and not paying enough attention to her posture and balance.

From Mom’s point of view, she was doing everything right. What was going wrong was the chair. But we saw the same thing when she was walking last year but frequently falling. In that case, absently turning and reaching and becoming overextended caused her to fall. She always blamed something else.

Perspectives often matter. Judging from news reports and blogs, politically progressives are as enraged and watchful as me with ICE matters.

It’s dismaying. After an ICE agent killed an unarmed American citizen, Renee Good, in Minneapolis, many called for restraint. Using reports of more ICE confrontations, ICE responded with more aggression.

I watched multiple videos of Good’s encounter and death. They all left me stunned as others. I questioned why ICE agent Ross drew his weapon in the first place. The agent seemed overly aggressive, as if he wanted a chance to shoot.

ICE agents were bellicose, shouting, “Get out of the fucking car.” When Good was shot and the car went off and crashed as she died, someone said, “Bitch.”

I read a report that the killing was the first in Minneapolis in 2026. That doesn’t bode well for a calm and peaceful 2026.

Music helped reclaim some sense of calm this morning. Papi did too, coming by to greet me with chirpy purr-mew. As my oatmeal with cinnamon was made ready, The Neurons put Ray LaMontagne singing “Trouble” in the morning mental music stream.

Trouble
Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble
Trouble been doggin’ my soul since the day I was born

Worry
Worry, worry, worry, worry
Worry just will not seem to leave my mind alone

The song’s lyrics are right. Worry won’t let my mind alone since Trump emerged on the politic scene.

May worry and trouble leave you alone and peace and grace come by and comfort all of us. Cheers

4

Twozdaz Theme Music

A tight light gray sheet is pulled down over Ashland. Woven of clouds, rain, and fog, it reduces sunlight to graylight. As light rain sings, the temperature hangs at 38 F with a high of 38 F looming. This is Twozda, December 23, 2025.

Thinking of Mom, life, and politics led me into paths of cogitation about how we shape others’ impressions of us. Sometimes our impressions of others actually undermine our ability to see who they are and what they mean. History with them, and disappointments with them, seem to frequently color our greater impressions and reactions. Emotions overtake thinking. Anger sets in and calcifies. Then we limit engagements, refuse to talk to them. Why should we? They’ve proven who they are to us.

Yet, we know that one of the greatest constants of existence is change. Many of us try and succeed to change ourselves for the better. Sometimes we awaken from whatever cocoon held us and realize, “Oh, shit. What did I do?” Then we hunt avenues to fix whatever mess we created.

Not all, I guess. I’ve known some terminally ignorant people who refused to ever admit they were ever wrong, let alone try to fix things. But others saw them for that toxicity and drifted from them until they stood alone, stewing in their rage about how they knew they’re right and everyone else is wrong. I think Trump is deeply into that circle. The thing is, his wealth and power keep extending his life. He’s surrounded himself with enablers. To admit that he’s wrong is to admit they’re wrong. And they’re shying off from that.

Like Trump, like Mom, like me and others I know, underlying our behavior are health challenges. I’m dealing with mine and seem to be rapidly improving. But I know others who are skating downhill, picking up speed, piling up the problems. It’s harder to see those things in others, whether their causes are emotional, neurological, matters with digestion, depression, or the simpler and more insidious problem…getting old. Even when you know ‘what’s wrong with them’ in clear and lucid terms, it’s hard to grasp the many ways that what’s wrong with them interferes with their being, causes them suffering, and makes them seem to lash out. Some people magnify what they’re going through, hungry for attention. Others hide it as deeply as possible, shunning attention and sympathy, disgusted that they might be *gasp* pitied. We’re complicated beings in a complicated world.

I have Fall Out Boy in the morning mental music stream. “Save Rock and Roll” featuring Elton John is the breakfast soundtrack. It hinges on the pins of my reflections and a lyric that goes, “You are what you love, not who loves you.” Not sure how it fits into my morning morass of mingling musings.

Rock and roll never forgets even if peace and grace seem to. Got my coffee. Here we go, into the gray future once again. Cheers

0

Sundaz Theme Music

Ah, Sunda. December 14, 2025. Was 29 F and sunny, with clouds. That was an hour ago. Now it’s 30 with dense fog. High of 50 something forecasted. We never reach those forecasted highs these days. At least, not in the last seven days. I know, it’s a small sample size.

The weather disparity reflects a greater wonder, how is what Trump has done affect our systems and abilities? How long will it take for that delta to become fully revealed. Conversely, does that delta even exist, or is this a product of my life in a news bubble? And if the bubble exists, how long will it take for us to address and fix it? Some will probably hastily explain, oh, AI can fix it all. But AI comes with its own problems and introduces more problems. So it goes, as it has since technology has begun advancing and displacing people and changing experiences and expectations.

It’s kicked off between Mom and sis again. Sis complains that Mom yells at her and complains all the time. So sis yells back. Mom complains that sis is always yelling at her. Meanwhile, my youngest sister won’t talk to Mom. Says Mom is always yelling at her and is tired of it. Oldest sister has been completely disengaged, and sister number three has, in sis’s words, checked out. All this dysfunction is deeply rooted in family history. It’s a sad culmination of a lot of ongoing anger and resentment. Of course, I checked out decades ago, after one of Mom’s husbands threatened me. Saw the future and abandoned everyone. I’m not proud of it but I was a child. I admit, it left me damaged, too. We’re all damaged.

Of course, it comes down to one of those, “What are you going to do?”, situations. We’ve seen this coming for years. Tried to plan to prevent it. Living with Frank, and with Frank helping her, Mom resisted and refused to cooperate. So we held our breath and went on. Now the worse that we feared is happening. I, of course, feel helpless. Most of my sisters seem angry. They have heavier and deeper damage from life with Mom.

Worse of all is how often this sort of situation and worse is replayed around the nation, around the world. We advance, and yet we’re stuck. We’re smart, and we’re stupid. We can see ahead but can do nothing.

All of this extends well beyond families, of course. We see the same kind of helplessness in business, education, the environment, animal and human rights, agriculture. Just adds to the tension and frustration for us that we see but can’t act.

Been reading of all the flood damage up in Washington and northwestern Oregon. The rain amounts and river levels hit historic highs. Messy and disastrous. Stories of dramatic rescues are interspersed with stories, videos and photos of mudslides, houses floating in rivers, huge waves battering the coast, bridges and roads collapsing. State of emergency declared in Washington. I’m surprised that Trump and FEMA approved requested emergency assistance. Let’s see if they deliver. Meanwhile, hope everyone affected can find safe places to endure and recover.

I wonder what fresh heaping will come with the next tomorrow. That triggers The Neurons. They play “Tomorrow Comes Today” by Gorillaz for me. I watch quite a bit of Brit and Irish TV, especially dramas, SF, and police procedurals, and believe I picked up the song from one of those. I often pursuing hearing more of a song when I hear parts of it on a television show or movie.

Coffee has come to rescue me for the moment. Hope peace and grace finds us all and gives us some respite from whatever is stymying and hurting us. Here we, into another day. Cheers

0

Fridaz Theme Music

Good morning from Ashlandia. It’s foggy today, Frida, December 12, 2025. Think I’ll return to bed. Sleep it out until the fog is gone.

I brew about that while I make my morning brew. What aggrieves me a lot about this is that Alexa is oblivious to the fact. It tells me, “It’s 41 degrees with clear skies in Ashland. Today’s high will be fifty blah blah blah.”

I stopped listening to it. My system says its 31 F. My eyes tell me it’s foggy. No sunshine, no sunshine. Alexa is wrong with the weather today just as she was wrong yesterday and the day before. I don’t think Alexa provided correct weather on any day this week. I don’t know if this is a symptom of Alexa’s failings or a failure caused by the National Weather Service. I further don’t know if the NWS failure was caused by Trump’s DOGE cuts or something else.

Fog socked us in all day yesterday. It’s a freezin’ fog sort, clinging to your exposed skin like it’s trying to suck your warmth out of you. Sort of like some sort of horror movie critter. What’s also interesting about being enclosed in heavy fog for days on end is that we used to get NWS warnings issued for that condition. We were getting them last week. We received none this week.

Photo of downtown Ashland, Oregon, taken in the afternoon, 12/11/2025.

The Trump Regime has successfully created a fog of confusion, distrust, and uncertainty. It’s not just in the areas of the weather and weather warnings, either.

Today’s song is by The Dave Matthews Band. My wife uses the expression, “What would you (say or do) if I told you (something about something).” She was using it yesterday. Paying attention to that, The Neurons brought the song, “What Would You Say” into the morning mental music stream.

The jaunty 1994 song features some interesting lines, such as, “Don’t drop the big one.” A song for our times. Fun video to watch, as the band invests strong energy and passion into their music.

Headlines tell me that Trump pardoned Tina Peters for her election theft efforts. He’s loyal to the lawless. Her pardon does nothing for her because he’s Fed and she’s incarcerated under state law. IEarlier this week, Trump was threatening the International Criminal Court not to go after him or any of his cabinet members for the murders and other crimes they’ve done, just as Putin would warn. Trump also tried bullying Indiana into gerrymandering their districts to save his rear against losing more seats. The Indiana GOP turned him down.

Trumpy Dumpty is also on a tour to convince everyone that he and the GOP are successfully making everything affordable again even if affordability is just a hoax and Trump says it’s not his fault, anyway, it’s all because of Trump’s favorite scapegoat, President Biden, even though…Trump used to campaign on stopping inflation and making everything better on Day 1. Heather Cox Richardson provides a lucid summary in her December 11, 2025 post.

That Trump’s boasting, cajoling, and bullying has a desperate frenzy urgency can’t be denied. He’s losing the plot and he’s losing popularity. Democrats are pretty firmly against him. The young are turning against him, as are Latinos and Independents. Soon, all that will remain will be white Republicans. And when they realize how unpopular, unsuccessful, and unintelligible he is, they, too, will quietly walk away.

Got my coffee. Think I’ll add a little peace and grace to it. Hope you have some peace and grace in your Frida. Here we go. Cheers

2

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Time to crank up another Wenzda. December 10, 2025 in Ashlandia began with sunshine and blue skies. I blinked and suddenly fog is smashing its gray face against the window panes. 45 F now, a jump the high fifties has been projected.

Today’s music is torn straight from the headlines. Not really. It’s more of a reflection on the many people experiencing cruelty and heartlessness under the Trump Regime. When this song was released in 1973, it was a protest against police violence and a police murder of a young Black boy in NYC. Now, “Doo Doo Doo Doo (Heartbreaker)” by the Rolling Stones was brought up by Der Neurons to the morning mental music stream in response to general news as ICE heartlessly chases and attacks people on behalf of Trump’s growing intention to make the United States whiter.

I’d like to tear that Trump world apart. I think there’s growing number of people with that same sentiment.

Alright, coffee jumpstarted the brain and various other organs. Hope peace and grace come give you a big hug. Here we go, world, another rotation. Cheers

2

Sundaz Theme Music

This is it! November’s final day. Yep, it’s now Sunda, November 30, 2025. Like yesterday, it’s chilly. Up to F at my home. Fog took the day off though. We’ll break the fifties again, temp wise. Yesterday shifted in temperature and inclination sufficiently for me, out walking, to say, “Hey, it’s not bad out here.” Certainly is better than those places being buried in snow.

The ‘We Ain’t Buying It’ campaign rocks on as protest agin the corporations aiding and abetting the Trump Regime takedown of U.S. democracy. That right-wing campaign seems to be fumbling and flailing as Dizzy Donny hisself likewise stumbles, fumbles, and flails. Courts outside of the Roberts Court consistently rule against Trump decisions. Doesn’t matter. Enabled by Republicans in Congress, backed by a weaponized DOJ, supported by billionaires and the Heritage Foundation, Dozy Donny presses forward.

A stench floats from the TACO Regime. Look at what they’re doing. There was the Trump Epstein shutdown and the Epstein files. Constant grifting, whether it’s Trump phones, Donny T crypto, Melania schemes, the regime works hard to make money for the Trump mob. Meanwhile, they’re rewriting history to discount what anyone other than white men did. Overseeing the destruction of the actual White House building. Presenting a shambolic Russia-Ukraine ‘peace plan’. Flip-floppin’ over tariffs and wreckin’ the economy. Guttin’ of the Federal agencies and programs approved by previous Congresses and administrations. Wantonly, randomly disappearing people, including legal immigrants, including American citizens. That’s just a short, high-level list.

This is Trump’s vision in November, 2025, after eleven months. People are no longer overlookin’ this crap. Scales are droppin’ from people’s eyes. Polls are rolling in: they disapprove of Trump and what he’s doing. FAFO stories are spilling out as MAGAts, happy to do unto others but unhappy to have it done unto them, complain about what Trump is doing to them. All I can say is, ’bout fuckin’ time.

A bevy of dreams again last night. One was about me being a bear protecting other people. In another, I was flying some kind of ship, protecting people. I awoke, thought them over, began cleaning up and dressing. After considering the weather and picking out my clothes, I began singing a song about getting my blue jeans on. At first I thought it a song which I’d made up for myself once upon a time. Then instrumentation slipped into the song. By then, I thought it was a faintly remembered tune, dug up by The Neurons, slotted into the morning mental music stream. Using the little I remembered, I discovered “Jeans On” by David Dundas, from 1976.

Time to coffee up and head out. Hope peace and grace find us and does it soon. Till then, hang on. Cheers

3

Fridaz Theme Music

Here comes the fog, do do do do do. Yes, ’tis a foggy Frida, November 21, 2025. Temp is hanging on to 33 F but we expect a rise to 52 F. Then we’ll be smokin’ with gas. Or something.

Political and economic news just seems to get worse. Trump and his regime continue to amaze with how low into the muck they’ll lower themselves. Trump is setting another deadline for Putin and Russia. I believe Putin will skip by that. Tell me if you think otherwise. Far as I can see, Putin continually games Trump because Trump has weakened the United States and its military alliances by his dumbfuckery. Putin knows that. He’ll be all smiley and sweet to Trump’s face but knows that Trump is a bully and a coward and shies away from real confrontation. Yet, Dizzy Donny, in his altered world, considers himself, brave, strong, powerful, smart. So trumplusional. That’s a level of delusion when the truth can’t be acknowledged even when it slams into your face and breaks your nose and cheekbones.

Today’s music comes from Sublime. It seems fog related. That’s my guess. My evidence is that I was looking out the window and remarking to myself about how the fog reduces visibility to the point that it feels and looks like we’re on an island. At around that point, The Neurons turned “Badfish” on in the morning mental music stream, starting with the line, “Won’t somebody get me off of this reef?”

Grace and peace might be out there, hidden in the fog. Or not. Not out there, I mean. Hope they come soon. Meanwhile, yes, coffee. Strong, black, as pure as it can be made with modern processes. Say no more. Here we go, once more into the breach. Cheers

1

Fridaz Theme Music

Say, are we are the moors? Gloomy fog is dulling the morning’s edge. Tattered golden leaves brown, slumping and slipping, waiting for their day’s end. Today’s present, high, and low come in a compact range of 47, 53, and 40 degrees F. Without sunshine bursting through the windows, the house feels cold and listless. Here’s a photo of an early August morning in Yachats as counterbalance.

Mom’s continued improvement keeps reaching new heights. Frank’s death really shook her into a stumbling, falling, thoughtless wreck. I’m so happy sis noticed and moved her. Mom was ready to move by then, having experienced days of relative solitude and helplessness. One amusing sidebar to this whole tale. While I was over collecting papers and tidying, I came across a wooden box full of coins. Knowing Mom, I knew she’d be worried about it and took it to her. When I showed it to my sister, she said, “Yes, Mom was asking about her box of coins.” Sis cashed in it for almost $200. Cracked me up to see her still saving her coins like that. So Mom.

Mom & Frank, circa 20 years ago, Florida. She would have been ’bout 70, and he was ’bout 75.

The Neurons surprised me today with a beat from my early rock ‘n roll years. Looking out into the fog brought “Into the Sun” by Grand Funk Railroad into the morning mental music stream. With its simple progressions, you can see why it was one of the first songs I learned to decently play. Video of this early rock and its style fires up The Neurons. It’s an upbeat song, too, about better days ahead.

Ate oatmeal today, and apple sauce and tapioca pudding last night. Progress!

I have been reading about politics and news. Many disturbing trends continue under the Trump Regime. The economy and voters are both reacting in negative ways. Trump will probably double down and get crueler. He thinks he’s inflicting severe damage on blue voters and believes that red voters will endure despite their sacrifices and hang with him. I think that base is smaller and weaker than he realizes. Affordability, not inflation and not prices, are the new watchwords, and affordability is falling fast. Meanwhile, the Epstein Shutdown slogs on, now doing far more harm than good. Coupled with the pressures that AI is putting on the infrastructure, especially the power grid, and the job market — see the record layoffs reported by Challenger — disaster is looming. We are circling the Trump drain. I know I’ve been saying that since the beginning. It’s not been as fast as I thought it would be; part of that was that some countries and stores were offsetting tariff increases by sucking them up. That was never sustainable. Nothing I see emerging from this current mess changes my mind. One key that Trump and his Project 2025 minions don’t appreciate is the economic workhorse that the Federal government is. As it slows, it casts a shadow across the nation. With air travel now also impacted, airlines will see less revenue, pay less taxes, and might be forced to reduce staffs.

Smirking BFFs, J. Epstein and D.J. Trump, so happy together.

The bogus Walmart comparison about Thanksgiving for 2024 compared to 2025 does nothing. Critical thinkers already noted that there were far fewer items in the cart. Yes, classic Trump Republicanism: do more, spend more, and get less value for your dollar. Classic enshittification. I note that the red publications reported Trump’s claim almost verbatim. No critical thinker there, or the falsehoods will be on full display.

I saw that Fox News’s selection of Melania Trump as the ‘Patriot of the Year’. Sure demonstrates their cynicism. By the words and deeds, they so devalue patriotism that it’s now a full joke. Sadly, MAGA will probably not see how the joke is on them.

This was what the first criminal said when accepting the award.

“Let’s embrace the spirit of ambition. Let’s celebrate everyone who dares to think differently. For it is these courageous Americans who are the heartbeat of our civilization.”

It’d be ironic if she and Trump and MAGAland had any self-awareness that she’s ‘celebrating everyone who dares to think differently’ while the Trump Regime works so hard to whitewash all history and success and cancel anyone who was or is different, such as blacks, Muslims, women, gays, trans…well, you get it.

Have the best day you can. Many peace and grace will do a pop in on you. Off to my first cuppa coffee in a few. Cheers

0

Stub of A Strange Dream

I approached a tall and ancient tree wrapped in silvery fog. I had an impression that I’d been climbing for some time as I felt bone weary with effort. The foggy air had me shivering in the dream, but I think it was also nervousness. Stopping in front of the tree, I stared at the rough blackened gray bark. Slowly a face rose into the gnarly surface. Eyes opening, they moved around several moments before finding me. With unrelenting attention given to me, the face separated from the tree and slowly floated up into the sky. As it did, I found that the fog was gone. I watched the face floating away until it could no longer be seen, and I was alone with the tree, surrounded by a clear blue sky.

3

Munda’s Theme Music

Mood: dreamnfogbound

A floof’s song pierced my dream. The reckoning of life commenced. Rolling free of my warm, comfy nest, I thrust my self out into the day. Blinds were drawn so I could see.

Fog. A good thick stew of it.

27 degrees F. Ice and frost was slathered over everything visible in existence outside of my window.

This is Monday, January 13, 2025. Yes, it is Monday the 13th. Just like the movie. And TV series. Based on the novel.

Lest my spirits get too high from these devs, I shifted gears and jumped into digital media to see how great the world is faring. After that morale post, I fed the floofs again and gave them treats. Then I turned to here.

Sam Moore passed away this month. Like others, He was part of my life’s tapestry of sound as part of the duo, Sam and Dave. “Soul Man”, recorded and released by them in 1967, was an early favorite song. Another of those tunes with easy lyrics to learn and repeat, with a jaunty, changing rhythm, and mesmerizing vocals flitting between highs and lows, the kind of stuff that inspires attempts to emulate it while pretending to be on a stage, cheered on by an audience of billions. Those memories induced The Neurons to put “Soul Man” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark past due). Very memorable to me from the song was the shout out, “Play it, Steve,” as Steve Cropper played guitar. Cropper was also the guitarist on the later Blues Brothers’s cover, and they repeated that call out, to my delight.

Let’s get positive and do what we can to seize the day. I’ve seized the coffee; now it’s seizing me. Here’s the music. And off we go, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.

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