Tag: frustration

Sunda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

This is about me. As my posts often are.

I’ve been undergoing treatment for lymphedema. It’s been going well. As part of that process, after the swelling in my lower legs, ankles, and feet were reduced, tailored-made compression socks to help me maintain my lymph fluid flow were ordered. Because the left side was ordered first, it was received first. I’ve been wearing it, and I’ve been happy with it.

My right side has taken longer. Part of that is because I was recovering from surgery on that side for a ruptured tendon. The surgery area ballooned up and fought against going down. Hence the therapy prescried for me to deal with the lymphedemia.

The right side has responded to it all and is much better after a month of special bandages, strict dieting, and a bevy of special exercises. The surgery is healed. I’m awaiting my special compression sock for it. It was supposed to arrived last week. We thought it’d be here by last Friday at the latest. It still hasn’t arrived.

It occured to me last night that my sock might be trapped somwhere as part of the Great Undoing. See, Medicare A&B cover me, backed up by the insurance from my twenty-year military career, Tricare For Life (TFL). But the socks ordered by my therapist through my hospital go through Medicare and paid for by Medicare and TFL. That’s done through an organization in Portland, Oregon, which outsources the sock production from a Germany company. The German company ships it directly to moi.

It leaves me in limbo at this point. I wonder, why hasn’t the second sock arrived yet?

Has it been affected by the Great Undoing and the PINO Trusk cuts, chaos, freezes, and tariffs?

Is it just standard logistical issues caused by weather and life?

Was or is it just a bureaucratic snafu?

Time will reveal all in the long run. In the meantime, like many Americans, I’m trapped in a loop of ‘wait and see’.

It’s a frustrating place to be.

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Munda’s Theme Music

Wind is rocking us, sunshine is bathing us, clouds are covering us, and rain is spitting on us. Yea verily, it’s Munda, Feb. 24, 2025, in Ashlandia in southern Oregon. Currently 59 F, could it go higher? Mabbe, mabbe. Depends upon the outcome of the war between the sun and the rain.

I rolled through some my standard early morning clickstops. First was a page where I learned that Roberta Flack passed away. She delivered her share of evocative music to us so I tipped my coffee cup in her direction and told her thank you. RIP.

Next came a stop at Project 2025 Tracker for news of how the Misery Party, aka the GOTP, formerly known as the GOP, has inflicted new shit on the nation and the world. After a GRRRRRR-filled persual, I stopped at Breaking News USA for some headline touches from blogs and respectable news sites. My share of daily misery was quickly filled. I mean, the misery tank doesn’t empty these days. The Trusk Regime offers a dark view of the world and is doing their fuckin’ damnedest to deliver that darkness. Well, so long as they’re gettin’ rich, right? That’s what’s important, innit? Serious gag reflex to puttin’ that snark on the screen.

Yesterday’s fill of misery was topped off by a news story regarding Arizona’s growing drought. That’s not good news; it’s worse news when the Federal government that’s supposed to help citizens is effectively shunning its responsibility. So I checked in to see what AZ voters thought about the Trusk Regime’s moves. And I found: Focus group: Arizona swing voters to Trump, Musk: Keep it coming. That story offered gems like this:

  • “I like how he’s cleaning house in the government,” said Jonas G., 55.
  • “I approve because I believe he’s transparent, and we haven’t had that for the last four years,” said Ann B., 54.

The bottom line: “These swing voters are delighted by Musk’s Trump-endorsed government housecleaning,” said Rich Thau, president of Engagious, who moderated the focus groups.

  • “The prospect of a looming constitutional crisis is completely inconceivable to them.”
  • Trump, Vance and Musk “should be ecstatic” about the 11 swing voters’ feedback “and Democrats should be scared to death.”

So, wow, another case of same world, different reality. What Trusk is doing is transparent? Fuck me, they’re seriously sucking down rightwing memes. I was worried about the drought on my fellow citizens, but I guess I’ll just let them worry about it. I’m sure PINO Trusk will take care of them. Yes, my friends, that’s snark.

On to the music! Because, you know, might as well enjoy some tunes as the world crashes. The Neurons have the J. Geils band in the morning mental music stream residency. They’re playing a 1973 tune called “Give it to Me”. It’s a chortling nod toward Trump voters. Hey, you wanted cuts? A strongman ruler who cuts ties with allies, supports Russia, raises prices, crashes the economy, increases homelessness, and undercuts health and science, well then, here you go. I don’t know what is warped in your head that causes you to wish that for yourself and your relatives, friends, and neighbors, but alright. He’ll give it to you.

Coffee is in me and my energy is risin’. On to other Munda matters. Be good, children. Hang in there. As we used to say in a happier age, peace out. M

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The Lost Tables Dream

This was obviously a dream about change. Anxiety. Confusion.

My wife and I were young people. We had a habit of driving to work together. We were taking turns driving. One would drive one day, the other would drive the next day. The dream showed this happening. Different cars for her and me; my car was a black sports car. Don’t know any details of it. Less is known of her car.

Although always going to the same place, part of our daily drive process was to consult on our phone about where we were going. That’s because the path changed every day. So whoever wasn’t driving was tasked with looking up the destination on the map and give driving instructions.

The dream showed this. I drove, she drove, I drove, she drove, etc. She looked up the directions, I looked them up, she looked them up, I looked them up.

Traffic was busy each day but the weather was good.

Our daily destination was a parking lot by a restaurant. We’d park near there and go on our separate ways to work. After numerous days of this, I was driving. My wife was looking up the instructions. But she was struggling with a signal and I, meanwhile, had made some guesses and found the way. She announced, “Got it,” right as we arrived at the restaurant.

But as I pulled up, I noticed that it was completely different. All of its tables were gone. The usually thriving place was completely empty.

Stunned, I told my wife, “Look. Something happened.” She was busy getting out of the car and heading to work so I repeated myself several times, further elaborating, “There’s no one there. The tables are gone. The place is empty.”

She left for work. I walked over to the area and then walked through the empty place, wondering how it had all changed, seemingly overnight. What I wondered most was, where are all the tables? They had so many tables. There was no sign that any tables had ever been there. As I stood there looking, I saw others hurryng by in the sunshine.

None gave the place a second look.

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The Factory Dream

I was a young man, possibly in my early twenties. Some other fellows were with me at a factory. I’m not sure how many were present. There were at least three, but maybe five, not including our overseer. I never took a head count.

We were in a factory doing a special job. No details of that job are available. It was cold but sunny weather. The factor was a plain, spare building with a whitewashed apparance that presented an air that it was on the verge of being abandoned or falling apart. Corrugated metal construction. Gaps in the walls. Bare, cracked cement floor. Signs that it’d be used for something else before and was now on a fifth or sixth life.

Under an uneven combination of weak overhead lights and sporadic, fading sunlight eking in through large, filthy windows, we worked around a long, dirty conveyor belt putting things together. As part of this, each of us were given some small black devices which seemed to be some sort of governor and also a CPU that told the system what to do. To install mine, I had to climb up a tall metal shaft and slip it into a slot just so. Some jiggling followd and then the conveyor belt sprang into noisy activity.

I don’t know what we were making but we shut everything back down and gathered again. The overseer, an oversized white guy in his mid-forties or early fifties, receding brown hairline and white short sleeve shirt with a tie, told us that we had one more run and then we could go home. But the other run was at another factory, about a mile away.

I had a car, a dark brown 1970s era Chevy Malibu. Sort of a ratty vehicle. I asked another for a ride to the other factory. Once we got there, I realized that I would need to return to the previous factory. We’d been sleeping in some little locker room there on cots. I’d left my clothes and gear there, not to mention my car, and would need a ride back.

This seemed to irritate the other guy, a big, good-looking guy with short, curly hair. He turned surly, and then shunned me during the rest of the session and wouldn’t speak to me. I was taken back by the change and wanted to talk to him about it.

The regular factory workers arrived. They all seemed to be foreigners to go by their dress, appearance, and language. They watched me as I climbed up to install my governor, laughing and joking about it. I gathered they had some other way of doing that and my method seemed strange to them. I tried explaining, “This is what I learned,” and asked for information about the other way. They wouldn’t address my questions.

That’s where the dream ended.

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UPS Mail Innovations

It’s a grip-worthy day for me. We ordered a packaged. 28 August. It was shipped via UPS Mail Innovactions the next day, or maybe the one after that.

UPS said we’d receive it by September 3. That didn’t happen. Package was in Fife, Washington. Transferred to the USPS. Because this is Mail Innovations.

The package arrived at Fife, WA, on September 3. An update said, your package will be delivered on September 6 by 7 PM.

Didn’t happen. I went to the UPS said, tracked the package — still in Fife, WA, on September 3, the shipment that stood still — and used the assistant link they provided me.

It was not useful. Said the tracking number which UPS provided me is not a UPS tracking number. Well, I saw exactly where the gap began. My number is for UPS Mail Interventions, I mean, Mail Innovations. UPS and its virtual assistance is not set up to assist with that innovation.

Sigh. More first world blues.

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DIY Fail

I’ve been working on my home HVAC system. The AC did not kick on when needed two weeks ago. Playing around with the system, the fan didn’t come on, the heat didn’t turn on, the air conditioner did not engage.

After tracing wiring and troubleshooting, I drew down on the stepdown transformer. The board wasn’t getting energy. The board’s fuse was intact, all circuit breakers and switches in the proper locations, etc., but the board’s diagnostic light was dark. I thought I’d accurately followed all the steps that led to the transformer but replacing it did nothing.

That leaves me at a circuit in the road. Call in a pro or keep at it myself. I’m reluctantly inclined to bring in a pro but my inner idiot (I2, also sometimes referred to as I squared) is saying, “No, mate, don’t give up, you got this.” That aligns with my overall philosophy that to succeed, failure must be risked and overcome.

My wife seems inclined to let me continue. Although we have high heat, she’s been using an electric fan and shrugging it off. That reminded me that we’ve existed without AC before. Both of us grew up in homes deprived of having AC. Early duty stations in the military included Randolph AFB, Texas, outside of San Antonio. I remember us enduring a string of days over 100 degrees F. Our military homes on Okinawa and our home in Germany also didn’t have AC.

So, you know, we can survive without the air conditioning if we’re prudent and thoughtful. It is a nicety we’d like to have but we don’t find it overly necessary. As far as fixing the AC, I’ll get with my wife and talk it over.

I think I’d be happy either way.

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Tueday’s Theme Music

Mood: Bureausilized (when activities are rendered useless by bureaucracy and become fossilized)

Good morrow, gentle folk and fellow coffee guzzlers. Today is Tuesday, May 14, 2024.

For the record, we’re fully overcast in Penn Hills, PA. It’s comfortable out, 61 F, with rain and thunderstorms chugging our way. They’re scheduled to arrive noonish. Today’s high will stroke out at 72 F.

Trump on Trial (the hush money/business fraud business) holds my family enthralled. Details are reiterated and explored. They’re also enjoying Trump’s latest tax issues, whereby he seems to be on the hook for $100,000,000 in taxes.

But doubt has been expressed that anything significant will emerge from either of these matters. Trump is white, male, and wealth, even if he may not be as wealthy as he claims. He’s also an ex-POTUS and the woeful GOP’s current candidate. Looking at the crime and punishment Venn diagram, significant punishment and karma don’t seem likely. The lesson reinforced for most of us, I think, is that the U.S. has a tiered justice system that mocks ‘and justice for all’.

The Hunt for Mom’s Caregiver goes miserably. All agencies contacted have suggested other agencies to contact. It’s a quagmire of links and promises, but little of substance is ever found. Others have found caregivers, so it is possible. Just need to moving out of expectations that any government agency will be useful.

Likewise, there’s no movement on Mom’s hospital bed request. In his case the road goes through her PCP’s office. Calling it is like shouting into a sewer. There’s not even an echo in response.

Today’s theme music veers to remembrance of David Sanborn’s work. The saxophonist died this week, robbing us of another wonderful musical talent. While more talented musicians keep emerging, the ones who marked us with their style should remain recognized and appreciated.

One of the first songs The Neurons pulled up for David Sanborn was David Bowie’s “Young Americans” from 1975. Then, as I read appreciations about him, many more people mentioned this same song. Sanborn’s body of work was much better than that, though.

I like this video which I found to showcase Sanborn. Not the best sound quality, but there’s a lot of talent on display here beyond Bowie and Sanborn. So many of them have passed.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Meanwhile, create and adhere to a vision of a better world. We make it happen, yes, we can make it happen.

Coffee is being chugged. Here’s the video. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sunnybration

We’re getting started on another Saturday here in Ashlandia on the third rock from the sun.

It’s April 6, 2024. The weather isn’t anything to write about, but I will note it’s rainy and cloudy and sunny again today. Present temp is 46 F. Add six degrees to it, and you have the day’s expected high. There is enough sunshine to energize me and filet depression, anxiety, and frustration off my mood.

In personal news, Mom headed to the hospital for stomach pain yesterday afternoon. Appendicitis was the diagnosis. I called a sis for details. She was accompanying Mom and I was able to briefly speak with her. Sis and Mom were both in good spirits at the hospital. Even though, at that point, Mom was in the hall, cold, awaiting a room, awaiting surgery, over twenty hours removed from eating anything, at almost eight PM.

They operated on her that night. The 88-year-old woman survived without issue. It was related back to me that the medical staff claimed it was “the worse looking appendix they’d ever removed.” Mom seemed proud about that.

Today finds The Neurons plugging “Goodbye to You” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark eclipsed). This song by Scandal and Patty Smyth was released in 1982. It’s a fun, driving rocker. Dance floors filled up when it came on in clubs.

I know exactly why The Neurons summoned it today. My wife was reading the news and addressing her frustration with certain politicians. During her brief diatribe, she mentioned she’d be very happy to see several Republicans gone. She said, she would love to be able to say, “Goodbye and good riddance.”

Click. “Hit it,” The Neurons commanded, and the song began. I think it’s a good song for the day and purpose.

Stay positive, and be romantic, and — whoa, don’t know where that one came from. A slip of the head, I supposed. Be pos and strong, I meant to write, lean forward, and Vote Blue. Got any extra coffee on you? I think I need some.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

I so love it when I go on a net page in Chrome to read something. Google covers part of it with ads. I can ask that they close the ad, and do.. They want feedback when I do that. Four options are included. None allow me to tell them, “YOUR AD IS BLOCKING THE FUCKING PAGE’S CONTENTS WHICH I WANT TO READ.”

No, that’s not an option. Guess that’s the price of technology.

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Tueday’s Theme Music

Mood: puzzled

I’m careening along through the year, charging toward the next month with barely time to notice this month. So it feels, and has felt.

Today is Tuesday, October 24, 2023 in Ashlandia, where cheese, bread, and wine are made locally and taste above average. Leaves with fading colors litter the ground, crowding against curbs, huddling in storm drains and taking shelter against buildins and in bushes. High cirrocumulus offerings mark the blue sky’s ceiling like small pieces of popcorn. They’re moving east at an impressive clip as more serious looking stratus flow in from the east, heading west. 52 F now, 61 F is the purported high, according to those who know. Rain showers are forecast for this evening.

Songwise, I have “It’s Ok” buzzing in my head, a gift from The Neurons. Overhearing a person actually saying those words in the coffee shop, The Neurons immediately slotted them into the morning mental music stream (Trademark fabricated).

Released by Imagine Dragons in 2021, the song is about feeling different or being different. You know that feeling, right? Probably. I think most people feel it at one time or another, a sense that they’re either lost or out of step with everyone else, maybe confused about the beat they’re marching to because no one else hears it. The song reassures us that being so is acceptable.

It’s okay to be not okay
It’s just fine to be out of your mind
Breathe in deep, just a day at a time
‘Cause it’s okay to be out of your mind, mind

I don’t want this body, I don’t want this voice
I don’t wanna be here, but I guess I have no choice
Just let me live my truth, that’s all I wanna do
Baby, you’re not broken, just a little bit confused

h/t Genius.com

Stay pos, be chill, remain strong. I believe it’s coffee time. Join me?

Here’s the music. Cheers

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