Tag: Green Day

Twozdaz Theme Music

It doesn’t feel like a Twozda. The computer calendar insists it’s Twozda, January 13, 2026. I just don’t feel it.

Alexa and the online weather stations claim it’s 46 F in Ashland. My system claims it’s 30 degrees F. The ground’s hard white frost agrees with me.

Invisible fogs surround us again, and invisible clouds keep the sky’s brilliant blue from glowing with sunshine. I don’t know where Alexa and online systems gather their Ashland weather observations but it’s nowhere near my home.

My weather obsession shifts into news obsessions. I floundered with efforts to reconcile Trump’s statements and activities with law, history, and his campaign promises.

Campaign promises are clearly out. Nikki Haley was once his political opponent. Trump said her foreign policy plans were, “Let’s kill people all over the place and let’s make a lot of money for those people that make the messes.”

Now Trump has ordered military attacks on locations in other nations. His body count is rising. He’s threatened to acquire Greenland, and warned Cuba and Mexico to ‘watch out’, rhetoric that underscores his policies’ growing reach and unpredictability.

And the nation’s wealthiest are getting wealthier. What I see happening from Trump’s policy is completely counter to his campaign promises.

In an Agenda 47 video Trump made and circulated in 2024, he complained about foreign intervention. Trump congratulated himself as “the only president who rejected the catastrophic advice of many of Washington’s Generals, bureaucrats, and the so-called diplomats who only know how to get us into conflict, but they don’t know how to get us out.”

Yet the beginning of 2026, before Trump’s first year was over, had Trump sending in military forces to capture President Maduro of Venezuela. And this week, Trump went further, changing a Wikipedia.org page to show he’s the acting president of Venezuela.

Many progressives like me frequently believe Trump projects when he accuses others. He said the same of golfing in his 2016 campaign. After mocking President Obama for golfing, Trump said he wouldn’t go golfing as President Obama did. “I’m going to be working for you — I’m not going to have time to go play golf.”

Analysis of Trump’s first term activities shows he golfed about 30% of his term. He’s just under that level for his second term, running about 27%.

Really, Trump’s campaign promises are as reliable as many of the local weather observations. They just don’t align with the truth before my eyes.

The disconnects bring on my jaded side. The Neurons noted it all. They came up with a reminder about a Green Day song called “Holiday” for my morning mental stream.

Green Day made it a protest song against Trump during Trump’s first campaign. A video of one performance from that period begins, “Do you want to start a fucking war?” The song goes on from there.

Hear the sound of the fallin’ rain
Comin’ down like an Armageddon flame (Hey)
The shame, the ones who died without a name
Hear the dogs howlin’ out of key
To a hymn called “Faith and Misery” (Hey)
And bleed, the company lost the war today

My Neurons knew what they were about. Billy Joe’s angry cynicism fits my developing mood pretty well.

My hope today for you and me and the world is that we quickly find some peace and grace. Meanwhile, brace yourself and be strong. Things don’t seem very predictable for now. Cheers

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Sunda’s Theme Music

Greetings from Ashlandia on Sunda, June 22, 2025. Speaking weatherly, it’s a better day today than yesterday. Sure, dark clouds still clot the sky with potentially ominous intentions. But sunshine is striking, driving the air into warmer realms. We’ve already broken past 60 F, three degrees above yesterday’s high. 72 F is in sight as a possibility.

Papi the butter butt floof is much happier. He’s snuggled into the vinca where just his tiny triangular orange face is marginally visible. Yesterday, he came in and stayed, finding a place to sleep until the rain, wind, and cold had gone away.

Well, Trump attacked another country but we’re not at war, oh no.Yet.We just bombed another country. Just a strategic ‘surgical’ strike on someone Trump thought was being a bully. On a whim. A hunch. Like a bet was being made.

A bet has been made. A bet that Iran’s nuclear program was more advanced than intelligence claimed. ‘We’ – because it was our government, acting on behalf of the United States, so we’re all involved, like it or not. So ‘we’ made a bet that we knew where the facilities were, and could reach and destroy. We bet that Iran and its allies would not respond. We made a bet that the mission would be successful and cow the Iranian leadership into not striking back. Will June 21, 2025, go down as an infamous act that triggered WWIII? Time will tell. If you bet on past history, this will get messy, but it might be down the road a few years. 

We always knew Trump would attack. He’s been eager to use the military in whatever way he could to bolster his self-image. In the space of six months, he’s deployed troops against protestors and bombed another country, after, of course, threatening to invade Greenland and take it over and joking, “Maybe Canada should be our 51st state.” Ha, ha, what a brilliant funnyman. And then he claims he deserves the Nobel Peace Prize. Please, someone shut him up before I pee my pants from laughing.

Today’s musical offering comes from — ta da — Der Neurons. For some reason that isn’t plain to me, they were kicking the morning mental music stream with “Basket Case”, a 1994 song by Green Day.

Alright. Had a double helping of warm oatmeal for breakfast. Risked some blueberries in it. Mouth took it all well, knock wood. Out to the coffee shop to write out the stuff piling up in my head. I wish for good things for you today and all days. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: pithynated

It’s a splashing autumn day. Lofty clouds of the decorative sort keeps the sky a lighter shade of morning. Sunshine stumbles in around the clouds to take us up from the high 50s to the high 70s. Yellows and reds are mixing it up with the trees’ greenery. No oranges in residence among the foliage yet.

Welcome to Wednesday, September 25, 2024. Please stand while we sing Ashlandia’s anthem, which sounds a lot like a repurposed rendition of “O Canada.”

I’m in a news trench, reading about our world and the many ways it thrills and disappoints. Find your own examples, I’m not regurgitating them here.

Autumn and the floofs are getting along like oceans and pirates. It’s a mellow grooming, gazing, ear-twitching still life of them in the back as a cloud interrupts their sunbath. Mild annoyance ruffle their whiskers as wind curses the yard. Papi the ginger blade looks especially affronted by this incursion. A place must be found to rest without wind’s prying fingers. He begins stretches and a hunt but bird noises and leafy sounds must be given attention.

Thinking on how autumn seems to have come around, and The Neurons place a song in the morning mental music stream (Trademark imploding). Green Day came out with “When I Come Around” in 1995. I was still a military member then, unspecting that I was on the cusp of retirement. I was over twenty by then, so I’d done my time. I liked my life there but the Air Force noticed I’d been at Onizuka Air Base in Sunnyvale, California, for four years. Time to be moved. They offered me an Inspector General role in Space Command which I nixed. They then presented Whiteman AFB in Missouri for my next tour of duty. That didn’t appeal so I did the necessary ink and walked.

Well, you know the standard closing about strength, positivity, and leaning. Vote blue, of course, like you’re sane and not out to gouge other’s civil rights to better your own existence because you’re a narrow-minded GOP twat. Yes, my black brew is talking through me. I offer the music now out of Woodstock 94, a scant three decades past.

Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: Thursdarific

Here we go again, another Thursday. Seems like there’s fifty of these a year.

Today’s Thursday is 04/04/2024, which offers a nice set of four symmetry.

It’s up to 41 F now in Ashlandia. Sunshine graces the east. Snow is scattered on some heights of green trees to the south. A plate whipped potato clouds brood over the western and northern skies. Rain and snow are forecast as possible. Sounds like one of those weather days, right? A high of 50 is being dangled in front of us.

I was a bit frustrated this morning. Connections was so easy. Wordle went well. Suduko was accomplished. But I couldn’t see the Spelling Bee pangram. I put it aside to try again later.

I watched some Jimmy Kimmel talking about politics this morning. Gave me a chortle so I thought I’d paste it up here so you can have a Thursday chortle, too.

Jimmy K summers the same fate as me. I can’t believe polls show DJ Trump leading President Biden in several swing states. Jimmy asks, “How is that possible?” Then he proceeds to present comic reasons about why it shouldn’t be possible.

WARNING: Kimmel shares some footage of Trump speaking. If you’re like me, you’ll need a barf bag on standby.

As for me, I don’t think those polls matter. I put my faith in Simon “Hopium” Rosenberg. He’s the Democratic strategist and analyst who refuted a red wave coming in 2022.

The NYTimes shared an interview with Hopium R. yesterday. Here’s a slice.

The idea of this interview is that, at a time when there is so much fretting in the Democratic world, you are not — and have never been — a bed-wetter. Can you explain why? This goes back to the midterm congressional elections in 2022, as I recall?

Yes. The argument I made then was threefold. One was that the Republicans did something unusual in 2022. Usually when a party loses elections, they run away from the politics that caused them to lose. And Republicans were running toward it. They were becoming ever more MAGA, even though MAGA had lost in 2018 and 2020.

Second, that Biden was actually a good president, and we’d have a strong case to make. And third, there’s been this huge increase in citizen engagement in the Democratic Party. We’ve been raising crazy amounts of money and have an unprecedented number of volunteers because of the fear of MAGA.

Simon R.’s position sums up my own tack. How can the things which didn’t work thrice before work this time? Don’t make no sense. I’ve also read several articles and posts about why the polls are off, and they give me strength.

Today’s music is a Green Day tune. I read about their SF Bay Area concert on SFGate and sought out the video. After enjoying it, The Neurons put it on a play loop in the morning mental music stream (Trademark eclipsed).

This song, “Living in the 20s”, came out this year. As might be anticipated from Green Day, it’s a sardonic take on living in the 2020’s twisted reality of shootings, media, and general craziness. I’ve selected a video so you can sing along. Also, not surprising for Green Day, it’s a fast-paced rocker.

Stay positive, lean forward, sip some coffee. Sorry, that was my reminder to myself. Your reminder goes, stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue.

Okay, here’s the song. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: perky

Sunshine clashes with multi-layered grey clouds over Ashlandia, where the weather is variable and the people are resigned.

It’s Sunday, November 5, 2023, and 57 F degrees, close to the projected high of 62 F. Was raining a short while ago, not a ‘oh-no-the-flood-is-coming rain’, but a light shower that had the cats curled up outside with their heads up asking, “What’s making that sound?”

We did the deed of turning the clocks back. I prefer that expression, ‘turning the clocks back’, over ‘setting back’ or ‘falling back’. Setting back sounds like something has gone wrong. Some wags will declare, “Well, that’s exactly what all this Daylight Savings Time clock changing is about. It’s government control and regulation gone wrong. We don’t need it.” Falling back feels like we’re retreating, as in, “Everyone fall back. Retreat.” So I will go with turning the clocks back, if and when I remember.

By Dog, I did enjoy the extra hour of sleep. When I first rose and saw the time, I thought, oh, please, just give me a little more sleep. Then I realized, hey, time change, and dove back to bed, pleasing one cat (Tucker) and dismaying the other (Papi). Papi doesn’t give a damn about any time but his own, and no schedule but his own. (Neither does Tucker, but Tucker likes cozying up to people in bed.) Seeing me go back to bed made Papi’s little face fall as he realized that he wasn’t getting his wet food breakfast yet.

Given that time was on my mind this morning, it’s not surprise that The Neurons began playing time-oriented music. I can list multiple songs that entered the morning mental music stream (Trademark derisive) as I stumbled in and out of light dozing with Tucker purring in my ear, but the song that finally found a firm grip in the MMMS is “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)” by Green Day. Some people will know this gentle, reflective song from Seinfeld‘s penultimate episode, but I know it from driving around the SF Bay area when the song was released in 1997 back and forth to work or out shopping. Although the song has such a sentimental and nostalgic air, it’s about a breakup with a girlfriend who moved to another country. In that light, with the “Good Riddance” aspect of the title, you realize that the singer is being sarcastic. That actually makes more sense for its inclusion in the Seinfeld‘s episode; Jerry never wanted any sentimentality on the show, although it seems to me that the montage shown as the song played was completely sentimental.

Stay pos, be friendly, strong, and optimistic, and lean forward. With coffee safely in hand yet again, I’ll try doing the same and maybe we’ll meet on some future date and place where we say to each other, “Isn’t this great?” Here’s the video. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Good mornin’. It’s Friday again, March 24, 2023, for the first time, we think.

Shakers of snow have spilled in several places. Tiny flakes laze from a pewter sky. Sun arrived a while again but the clouds have the numbers. 34 F now, the weather lizards explained with great showmanship it will reach 44 F.

Snow earned the cats’ disapproval. Tucker ate and found a warm space. Papi checked the front, back, front, back, front, back, front, back, and finally accepted that no comforting levels of sunshine could be found. Whiskers drooping in disapproval, he’s lounging on the sofa.

Meanwhile, I’ve retreated to the office with a cuppa coffee. With little solar energy feeding me, I needed a brew stat. Musically, The Neurons have imposed some Green Day in the morning mental music stream. I’m listening to “Holiday” (2005). Written in the aftermath of 9/11 and the retaliatory war started by Dubya’s administration, the songwriter was pissed and let fly his feelings. I shared them, because we were warned about WMD even though just months before, Colin Powell was reassuring us they weren’t there. Cheney had a different feel for it and added by Curveball, pushed for the war. They said it was gonna be a cake walk. Said it would pay for itself. Sure. Yeah, it was all dressed up very pretty in patriotism and UN resolutions, but it never made sense. Still does not.

Here’s the music. I wish you all a happy Friday. Stay pos. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Early dark thirty. Far before the sun’s scheduled arrival after seven. I’m waiting for my sister to pick me up and convey me to the airport. I’m always depending on my family and their kindness. She is one of the best.

It’s Tuesday, October, 11, 2022, exactly, without planning, one month since my arrival in Pittsburgh. Mom was in the hospital when I arrived, fighting COVID as it attacked her heart, lungs, and everything else it could lash out at. Nurses told my sisters it was very possible that Mom may not survive. It was one of the worst COVID cases they’d seen since the pandemic’s start for that hospital staff. Besides COVID and fluid in her heart and lungs, her appendix had a perforation and was pouring poisonous material into her body. Her pacemaker was only functioning at 20%. Things looked ugly.

She fought back and came out of it. Now she’s home, recovering, rehabbing, and I’m going home. She is struggling with bouncing blood pressure with a diastolic dropping below 100 too often. She’s on meds to promote good blood flow, keep her blood pressure at a healthy level by lowering it because of what she endured in the hospital, when it was skyrocketing. Now they’re backing those meds off, readjusting them, but her blood pressure is erratic. That’s a concern.

Other than that, she’s recovering her strength and balance, eating well, and so on.

My work here isn’t done but life dictates other needs, so, here I go, back across the country, back home.

It’s a travel day, in the car for thirty minutes, airport for two hours, aircraft for five plus, another hour in another airport, another two hours in a second aircraft, then in a car to reach home, an eleven-hour trip. That’s much better than the pioneers, and not as hazardous.

I feel like a little bit of a basketcase dealing with Mom as I hear her tell me one thing and bend her words so it doesn’t seem as bad when she’s dealing with her medicos and my sisters. Irritating as hell to be honest; makes me feel like an unreliable witness. But alas, these things are not within my control, so I let them go like the air from my lungs.

However, The Neurons jumped all over those feelings, dumping “Basketcase” by Green Day into the morning mental music stream (trademark pending – not really, but it feels like it should be added). So here we go.

My ride is here. Stay pos and test neg. I’ll try to do the same. Here we go. I’ll have coffee at the airport, thanks. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

You ever leaped out of bed and remember that you’re not at home and this isn’t your bed, so there’s a piece of furniture blocking your landing, remembering all of this midway through what was planned to be a burst of energy to start the day?

Yeah, me, neither.

But did you ever get out of bed full of spirit and rushed outside to check the weather and took a deep breath and asked, “Hello, world, what is that smell?”

The smell reminds me of a giant being cremated. To my knowledge of the area, there aren’t any crematoriums around but there could be, because I haven’t been here in a while. Maybe someone saw an available vacant lot and realized their dream of building their own crematorium. I don’t believe there are any giants in the area. Could be that there are and I missed the news. We’re living in strange times, as many people have said before me. I’ll conduct a net search for giants of Pittsburgh later, if I remember.

Birds are lustily giving voice in Mom’s yard on this Sunday morning. One keeps singing, jewka, jewka, jewka, chew. (Kind of reminds me of a Steppenwolf song, “Sookie, Sookie” from 1969.) I don’t know what kind of bird it is. I’ll google it later, if I remember. There are sparrows urgently flying around. All of this could have to do with the giant being cremated, I guess.

It is September 18, 2022, and the sun rose over three hours ago. That means about another nine hours of daylight are available. Leaves are falling like they do in some places that mutter, “Oh, time for autumn. Let the leafing begin.” Then a button is pressed and the trees start with a little surprise at being goosed because they’ve just been sunning themselves and enjoying life. Once they understand the goosing, they get with the situation, drop leaves and start changing their colors.

Mom was in great spirits last night. I visited her telephonically in the evening, because my COVID. (Much better, thanks.) They’re moving her to another place this week so she can rehab for a return to the outside world. She and I talked about her wishes should she go on. You know, pass. Die. She wants cremated. We talked about what music to play at her celebration and she said we should start with “Amazing Grace”, which she believes is a beautiful song. I agree with her. Neither of us think she’s going anywhere soon. We could be wrong. She scared me two weeks ago, and we often don’t have death tell us, “Heads up” before the final breath is taken.

Because it’s September and leaves are falling through the sixtyish weather under a charcoal-sketched sky, The Neurons have brought up, “Wake Me Up When September Ends”. Billy Joe Armstrong of Green Day wrote the song. The band released it in 2005.

Stay posi and test negy. Have coffee or whatever works for you, within reasonable parameters. Don’t want to get into the mess of defining that. What’s reasonable to one —

Well, anyway. I’m pouring coffee now. Enjoy your Sunday. Here’s the video. Go Steelers.

Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Ah, Sunday, Sunday, Sunday — monster trucks, church, and dinner. That’s dominated my life’s Sundays, along with the NFL and NASCAR and other racing. Of course, I was a shift worker for twelve years in the Air Force. Sundays meant less to do at work because little flying was done on Sunday.

Today is November 21, 2021. The sun emerged from Terra’s curve as the planet turned at 7:08 AM, peering at us with watery light through light mist and low clouds. Some blue sky and sunshine are sneaking by patches but the temperature has remained a chill 39 F. We expect a high of 56 F today before the earth’s movement takes the sun away again at 4:45 PM.

I have a little Green Day rolling through the morning mental music stream this AM. The chorus from “J.A.R.” (1995) is going round and round.

And I think it’s all right
That I do what I like
‘Cause that’s the way I want to live
It’s how I give, and I’m still givin’…

h/t to Genius.com

Yes, summarizes my current philosophy. “I want to live, it’s how I give, and I’m still givin’.” Stay positive, test negative, get the vax and booster when you can, and wear a mask as needed. Don’t let complacency undo what you’ve done thus far. Time for coffee. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Computer issues drop-kicked my Sunday into Sourday yesterday. Naturally, I blamed 2020. Made more sense than blaming myself, or HP, Microsoft, Kaspersky, or anything else. No, this was 2020’s fault. Because, 2020 has been a helluva memorable year for all the wrong reasons, from my perspective.

Like, yesterday, I went for a short walk. Golden leaves were flaring bright against the sky blue. The air was warmish at seventy, but clearer than a new 4K television picture. Yet, given my ‘puter issues, my mood was sour. Walking out of the house and up the hill, I remembered the four small, beautiful cats who used to greet me when I came out. Pepper, Buddy, and Mimi (aka Princess) all were neighbor cats. Quinn was my own. None were big. Three were long-furred but all were sweet and happy. All were here last year, last fall. Now, all were gone, victimized by life and death, as we all will be.

Yeah, some mood, right?

It’s natural for my mind to provide theme music, background to whatever I’m doing. Yesterday’s chosen song stayed with me for today. Probably did this song as theme music before; I didn’t bother to look. Frying other matters in my head, you know?

Here is Green Day with “Wake Me When September Ends” (2005). In place of September, feel free to insert anything else. I inserted 2020, as in wake me when 2020 ends.

Cheers

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