Tag: health

Fridaz Wandering Political Thoughts

Lemme get this right.

Blue states and blue cities are run by Democrats.

Trump hates Democrats.

Democrats are Americans. United States citizens.

So Trump hates Americans. United States citizens.

To prove the depths of his hatred of United States citizens, Trump is following a course to destroy United States blue cities.

First, he disrupted supply chains by breaking trade agreements and declaring outrageous tariffs. That slowed imports. That damaged business, business planning, and employment.

That severely affected farmers in rural areas. In red states. Which means the nation produces less food. Which drives up the cost of food. So more food needs to be imported. Like beef. But tariffs increase the costs of importing food. Like beef.

Right?

Trump then marched in national guard units to patrol city streets, but only in blue cities. Even though they were safe.

The Trump Regime threatened media outlets that are less than flattering to Trump. Trump threatened to take away licenses to broadcast if they are critical or factual in their reporting about what he’s doing. He threatened networks which allowed comedians to make fun of him.

In parallel, Trump expanded his ICE police force and filled cities with ICE in masks, with guns, to sow terror, grab people and disappear them, just as we’ve seen and read about happening in all those stories about nations led by dictators, or places like the Soviet Union, NAZI Germany, North Korea, and Red China. Without due process. Without evidence.

Right?

Trump began persecuting political opposition through DOJ. If a prosecutor failed to fall in line, they were removed and replaced. As we’ve read about happening in the Soviet Union. NAZI Germany. North Korea. Red China. And many other countries ruled by despots.

Then Trump installed federal law enforcement units to protect the storm troopers from Americans trying to save and help their fellow citizens.

How am I doing so far? Do I have this right?

And as Americans stand up to protest Trump and these actions, Trump and his mouthpieces like Ted Cruz, Mike Johnson, and JD Vance accuse these Americans of being anything and everything except Americans exercising their Constitutional rights.

Then, this self-declared law and order prezzy cut funding to fight terrorism and other crimes, pouring Federal monies into his maligned destruction campaign against blue states and cities.

But –

Most revenues in the United States come from blue states and cities.

Red states and cities are poorer. Proven fact. They receive more from the Federal government than they give. And red cities and states dominate the crime statistics.

Blue states and cities dominate as centers of education, research, technology, business, and trade.

The money these blue states and cities make are paid into Federal coffers as taxes and fees to support people in red states and cities.

Right?

If you destroy blue states and cities, make them unlivable with heavy military and law enforcement presence, and disrupt their business means, their revenue to the federal government will drop.

Which means the red states will get less money. Which means red state voters and children will have less food to eat, less healthcare, be less secure, and have less education. So, red state citizens will be sicker. Poorer. Unhealthier.

All this is supposed to ‘make America great again’?

Do I have that right?

This is Trump’s alternate world as designed by Project 2025.

The Federal government is made a political tool. Oppression through the government against citizens and the media is increased.

Citizens are turned against citizens. The voter systems are handicapped. Protest and criticism are attacked. Employment falls. Health and safety systems are dismantled. Education is crated. They recklessly and wantonly destroy our national heritage and censor history. Only white history matters in their world.

This is to make us as a nation, ‘greater’.

Right?

No.

It is clear. Trump hates the United States. As do the leaders and architects of Project 2025. They’re out to destroy the nation. And Mike Johnson, JD Vance, the Roberts Court, and the GOP are happy to stand by and let them.

No matter what it takes, no matter what it costs, no matter how illogical, depraved, illegal, immoral, inhumane, or un-American it is.

I mean, it is only logical and makes sense if Trump is trying to destroy the United States. Because the actions he takes against the blue states and cities will affect and damage the red states and cities. That means that all United States citizens will be affected. If they have wealth, they can rise above the fray. Like Trump. Vance. Johnson. Billionaires.

Did I get that right?

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Wenzdaz Theme Music

Another rock and roll October fall day has pitched itself over Ashlandia. 39 F now, we’re expected to get over the 60 F hump and cruise to 67 F before falling back down to 40. The pattern is obvious by now, Wenzdaz, October 15, 2025. The nights are taking control, lengthening, growing colder. We know that means, winter is comin’.

No change in news from Dad’s locations. On Mom’s side, sis took Mom to see Frank. Wasn’t a good visit, as he was out of it. Mom told sis, she doesn’t think she can see him like that again. Frank is on 10 L/minute of O2 now but was on 15 as of yesterday morning. He can’t be moved from ICU until he is on 5.

After the visit, sis took Mom to get a flu shot and COVID booster, then went back that evening and made her dinner and visited with her. Another sister had a visit to Mom planned for Monday. No updates from that.

The Epstein Shutdown of 2025 continues. It’ been two weeks.

As part of the shutdown, the Trump regime employed reverse-day logic to RIF gov. employees. CNN published a story that finely chopped up the Trump-Vance-Johnson GOP tale that, “Gosh, the Democrats made us let go of people because the government is shut down.”

Vice President JD Vance said Sunday that layoffs during the government shutdown are needed to continue critical federal assistance programs, including the WIC nutrition assistance program, and to pay the military.

“We have to lay off some federal workers in the midst of this shutdown to preserve the essential benefits for the American people that the government does provide,” he said on NBC’s “Meet the Press,” blaming Democrats for the reductions.

However, budget experts pointed to several reasons why Vance’s statement wasn’t true. Among them, many federal workers aren’t being paid during the shutdown, so laying them off wouldn’t free up any funds — plus, if they were being paid, the money wouldn’t be available for 60 days, when most must actually leave their jobs, said Bobby Kogan, senior director of federal budget policy at the left-leaning Center for American Progress and a former OMB official during the Biden administration. Also, the Trump administration last week said it will extend WIC’s funding using tariff revenue.

What’s more, any funds saved by laying off several thousand federal employees would be only a tiny fraction of what’s needed to fund WIC and the military, said Michael Linden, a former senior OMB official during the Biden administration who is now a senior policy fellow at the left-leaning Washington Center for Equitable Growth.

Yes, that’s right, it’s another Trump Regime lie exposed. Should be news — well, it was, I guess, because it was covered by CNN — but the Trump Regime lies every day, almost every hour. Those of a MAGA heart pay no heed until Trump’s actions hit them hard enough on the head to shake their beliefs. The Trump WH is a swampland of lies and corruption. It’ll take some serious work to drain that swamp and rebuild it into a functioning democractic government and kick down the disastrous framework that is Project 2025. Meanwhile, farmers are going belly up from the lack of infrastructure to support them. Prices are rising. Employment is falling. Shortages are appearing, and foreclosures are climbing. The Trump Destruction Machine is tearing the nation down.

Riddle: how many Trump Regime officials does it take to tell the truth? No one can guess because it’s never happened.

Today’s song is “Skateaway” by Dire Straits. In my head, this is called “Rollergirl”. Yes, this was obliquely related to a dream sequence of moi. Had sufficient substance found in it that The Neurons made the call to feature it in the morning mental music stream.

Here’s a lyrics sampling that prompts my head to call the song “Rollergirl”.

She gets rock and roll and a rock and roll station
And a rock and roll dream
She’s making movies on location
She don’t know what it means
And the music make her wanna be the story
And the story was whatever was the song, what it was
Rollergirl, don’t worry
D.J. play the movies all night long, all night long

h/t to Genius.com

Coffee is being re-homed into my body as I type. Time to rock another day before it rocks me. Hope peace and grace comes out of the shadows to warm and shelter us all. Till then, here we go, one more time around the sun. Cheers

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Mundaz Theme Music

Munda, October 13, 2025. Rain cascading onto the roof and hammered me awake. 40 F outside with a high of 52 on order. I asked Alexa about the weather. She said it was cloudy. I asked her if it was going to rain. “It might rain starting at 9 AM but it should stop by 10 AM.” This was at 7:30 as the rain drove down.

Mom’s boyfriend, Frank, is in the ICU for afib. He’s 95 and suffering from multiple issues stemming from a fall down the stairs last week, but has cancer that predates his fall. Mom told my sister that she wanted to get Frank’s phone to see if he’d been talking with Joan. Joan was Frank’s best friend’s wife. When he saw Joan after his best friend died, Frank kissed Joan. Mom was furious and has claimed ever since that Frank is secretly meeting with Joan. Mom told sis, “If I find out that he’s been talking to her, then I’ll throw him out.” She then kept calling Frank’s daughter to see if she had Frank’s phone. Sis reminded Mom that Frank was in the ICU and may not live. “I know,” Mom answered. We’re not sure that she does.

Sister’s text exchange relating got The Neurons to play the Gin Blossoms with “Follow You Down” in the morning mental music stream. Don’t ask me what they’re thinking.

My wife has no energy today and seems down but it’s our day to do food deliveries, so here we go. May grace and peace find and keep us. Cheers

3

Fridaz Theme Music

Rain just kicked in here. Dark and gloomy. Feels lifted from a gothic novel. All the blinds are up but sunshine has vacated its post. The rain though, is a comforting background song. Fall is here, the scene outside proclaims. Get used to it.

We will. Then we’ll tire of it, and the great conveyor belt will carry winter to us. We’ll get used to that and tired of that and hit the holidays and a new year and then start looking for spring. It’s almost a tradition.

Papi is tres upset by this weather change. His downcast expression has WTF written large. I tell him, “Stay in, you’ll be happy.” After desultory outdoor expeditions, he agrees and find a space to sleep.

48 F now, we won’t see 60 today. This is Frida, October 20, 2025, in Ashland, Oregon. Ashlandia.

Trump didn’t win the Noble Peace Prize. I am so happy that the deranged bully didn’t win that honor. The prize went to María Corina Machado, from Venezuela, who worked to restore democracy to that nation. Can we get her up here? Trump’s head would explode. And congratulations to María Corina Machado for a well-deserved honor.

Back in ‘Murica, Speaker Mike Johnson (R-Hell) spoke, refreshing the impression that he’s an idiot.

‘Angry’ Johnson lashes out — says Dems need to be ‘physically separated’ from Republicans

This from Alternet:

“We’re so angry about it,” he told Fox News. “I mean, I’m a very patient guy, but I have had it with these people,” the Speaker said, emphatically, of Democrats. “They’re playing games with real people’s lives.”

Yeah, that jackass is angry that the Democrats are not caving and that more voters are realizing that the Epstein Shutdown of 2025 is a Trump GOP gift, a product of the Regime’s Misery Machine. Trump and the GOP control Congress and the Oval Office. The self-proclaimed ‘great negotiator’ can’t make a deal. As Donald J. loudly claimed back before he shut the government down three times, a government shutdown shows a weak president. He’s sitting on three. How weak does that prove him to be?

Personal news from home isn’t good. Mom’s BF, Frank, is in pretty bad shape. Hard to get details through the grapevine. Broken ribs, the hip that was replaced, heart issues, and dementia. What he’s enduring has him acting contrary to who he usually is, and he’s being violent, mean, loud, and angry. They have him restrained to a bed, someone watching him 24/7, and mitts on his hands so he can’t pull out tubes and try to escape. Little sister is pulling duty helping Mom. This is a sister who has two children. One of them lives with her. Her daughter’s BF also resides with them. She’s a grandmother who takes those duties seriously and spends time and money on her grands. She works, exercises, cooks for her family and Mom, and also keeps the books for her husband’s plumbing biz. She’s a dynamo and I’m pleased she’s there to help Mom. Other two sisters apparently have some medical problems of their own. They’re not discussing their issues but they’re not visiting Mom much.

Today’s music arises from a conversation with my orange floof, Papi. The weather has him restless. So I sang, “Lay down Papi,” to him to the tune of “Lay Down Sally” by Eric Clapton. “Lay down Papi. You don’t need go outside. I’m been trying all morning long just to pet you,” is what I sang to the boy. Natch, The Neurons were all over that, pumping “Lay Down Sally” into the morning mental music stream. And yep, that’s “Duck” Dunn on bass in this video.

Coffee is cruising through the alimentary system, delivering its needed cargo. Hope peace and grace pops out soon and visits for a prolonged period. Meanwhile, stay strong. I’ll try doing the same. And away we go. Cheers

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The Indicators Dream

I don’t know what age I was supposed to be in this dream. I felt younger, maybe in my early middle age. Anyway, I arrived at this cluttered, jumbled location. Busy with people, we were being asked to make choices. Like many others that I overheard and witnessed, I didn’t understand exactly what was going on. Acting on haste, I checked some small pails.

The pails were plastic and different colors, like red, blue, yellow, green. They reminded me of pails which children use in a sandbox or at the beach.

In these pails were some sort of small black squares. Each had tiny white letters and numbers but were mostly blank. Nobody seemed very sure about what they were or what we were supposed to do with them, but everyone was certain that we were supposed to take some. I wasn’t sure how many to take but grabbed eight. Then, following the flow of people doing who had also made their choices, I went along the line until we came to a long messy table, one of many. Above the table, three slender, black metal slats ran parallel to the table. Many already had multiple black squares attached to them. With observation and trial and error, I discovered the metal squares were magnetic and that we were supposed to attach them to the slats. Okay, I did that.

When I did, the black squares became alive with information. Watching, I realized that they were displaying information about the people who put them up, like, for me, as example. Each black square was giving out vital signs about different body functions, is how it first appeared. Most accepted that but I saw that some were just displaying dates, but not in the usual format. Pressing the dated squares showed me events from that day. As I did that, I began understanding that the white letters and numbers gave information about what was embedded and contained codes and patterns.

Assimilating this, I began excitedly talking about my realizations. Other people were disinterested, dismissing the squares. But I grasped that the squares’ functions were actually based on their relationship and placement with each other. Calling them indicators, I started telling people, “Don’t you see? If you can go back and find the right indicators for yourself, you can know your full history. Not only that, but it can also show the future for each of us.”

Moving the squares around showed me that I was right. Pressing back against the crowd, I tried to go back to the buckets to look for better black squares.

Dream end.

2

Satyrdaz Theme Music

Dreary sunshine and bleached skies say hello when Papi and I step out to inspect the morning. It’s 49 F in Ashlandia today, Satyrda, October 4, 2025. A high of 60 is anticipated. The furnace was turned on to dispel some of the morning chill, as it was just 67 F in the house. Despite these clouds, rain is not a worry for us. Personal note, today is the 51st anniversary of when I swore my oath to defend the Constitution in the U.S. military.

All my appointments went very well Thursday. Texted Mom to tell her we’re coming to Pittsburgh for her 90th birthday. She says she’s looking forward to seeing us but is busy painting the kitchen cupboards right now. Dad remains in rehab in Texas. Spoke to him, and he was in terrific spirits and sounded strong, healthy, and alert.

Trump’s Venezuelan body count is 21 after U.S. missiles destroyed another boat. That’s number four. What’s the body count over/under for a Nobel Peace Prize?

The Weariness Meter is in the upper ranges today. I feel I’m flagging over the news. Think I’ll take a time out from keeping up to date. That general malaise striking me had me thinking about past and present. 1974, when I graduated from high school and joined the military, still appears as a decent year when I look back through time’s long lens. This year, 2025, feels like a terrible year on multiple levels. Reflections have me treading on a path of thought about how much we’ve regressed in my lifetime. Most of that came in the last 20 years. Hell, most of it came with Trump’s takeover of the White House in 2025. Much of it is due to Russ Vought and Project 2025 and their effective use of Trump as a dupe.

The Neurons decide to cheer me up with “Here’s Where the Story Ends” by Sundays in my morning mental music stream. Sample lyrics for you from Songfacts.com.

Crazy I know, places I go
Make me feel so tired
I can see how people look down
I’m on the outside

Oh, Here’s where the story ends
Ooh, Here’s where the story ends

It’s that little souvenir of a terrible year
Which makes my eyes feel sore
And who ever would’ve thought the books that you brought
Were all I loved you for
Oh the devil in me said go down to the shed
I know where I belong
But the only thing I ever really wanted to say
Was wrong, was wrong, was wrong

It’s that little souvenir of a colorful year
Which makes me smile inside
So I cynically, cynically say the world is that way
Surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise

Here’s where the post ends. Hope grace and peace pop up for us someday soon. Got my coffee. Time to motor. Cheers

0

Twozdaz Wandering Thoughts

My wife and I are traveling east in October to attend Mom’s 90th birthday celebration. I bought my airline tickets this morning. I have twenty-four hours to cancel them without punishment.

Wasn’t a pleasant process. I’ll put it out up front is that part of this is that we do fly first class. It is elitest, I guess, because we can afford it. Not really our choice, though, I’m gonna claim. My wife and I are naturally frugalish. That comes from parents who were tight with pennies, people who emerged from rural areas where the depression lingered a while. They taught us not to waste money. Then, in the military, enlisted in the 1970s through 1990s, we were solid lower middle-class earners. We’re not wealthy but we’re comfortable, yet my wife and I remain ‘natural savers’.

So saying, “Let’s fly first class,” goes against our grain. But, my wife suffers medical conditions. That’s one. Stack the airline propensity to squeeze us into tinier and tinier spaces to minimize their costs and maximize profits and executive bonuses, and you can understand why we spend the cash on first class.

Going first class automatically limits a lot of options. They aren’t many first-class seats. Usually just a few rows. On many aircraft, the last row of first-class seats do not recline or recline only a little. That severely limits the comfort level, in our experience, so that last row is out. Well, usually. That gets complicated. It’s like that on some aircraft and some airlines.

Then there’s the matter of the first row. They typically lack storage. If you’ve flown, you know that the standard storage for people is under the seat in front of them. Guess what the first row lacks? That’s right, a seat in front of you. That means your belongings must be stored elsewhere. Typically, that’s in the overhead bin, but that requires you to get up to get it. Yet if you have bad weather, you can’t just get up and get things at will.

I know, it’s a lot of complaining, isn’t it.

I’m not done.

We live in southern Oregon. Our airport is Medford. It’s a small airport. We’re flying across the nation to Pittsburgh, PA. That means we must go through hubs. San Francisco, Seattle, Salt Lake City, Denver, and Portland are the main hubs for us out of Medford. So, what time do we want to leave?

We’ve learned from nasty past flights that going early is the best option. That’s because so many friggin’ flights get canceled or delayed. Going early gives us more options when things go awry.

Then, though, there are the layover time gaps. One fight offers five hours in an airport. Another offers six minutes between flights. Six minutes. How the hell are you expected to raise from gate to gate in that time? It’s bullshit, innit?

So, those are the basic parameters for trying to cope with cost, times, space, distance, health, comfort, etc. Whatever we do, a long day is guaranteed. The best we can do is try to make it as easy as possible.

Even though the airlines seem to be actively against that sometimes. Label this as first-world blues.

4

Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

My wife and I had a minor disagreement the other day.

I had surgery to repair a ruptured tendon last year, in October, 2024. I’ve had pain of various kinds since then. One source of pain was along toes three to five, which was often stiff with burning pain. I’d mentioned it to my surgeon, as it began during my convalescence from surgery. He said that it sounds like a nerve was damaged. I felt the same. Although I’m not a medical expert or doctor, etc., I broke and dislocated a wrist in my late twenties. Pins casts immobilized that wrist and arm. I suffered from a burning, painful sensation along the pin sites after they were removed. My doc back then told me it was probably nerve damage. It did go away after about twenty years. This foot pain felt just like that pain.

While walking the other day, I felt a sudden sharp and painful snap in my foot where the toe pain resides. After gasping and slowing for a second, I resumed walking. Lo, that foot pain was gone. It hasn’t come back.

I was so elated. I went home and told my wife. She responded, “Why is this the first that I’m hearing about this?”

One, it wasn’t the first she was hearing about it. She’d forgotten me mentioning it, but I spoke about in early January of this year. I don’t blame her for forgetting it. We don’t remember everything we’re told.

Two was a broader philosophical position. Basically, I don’t tell her about every pain I endure. I’m aging, and have pains from time to time. Feet, ankle, hips, neck, shoulder, back, abdomen, eyes, etc. Those pains often go away. Their duration can last anywhere from a few hours to a week. Sometimes they limit movement, and more rarely limit my activities. My point is, pain comes and goes. I prefer to not complain. And then means, to me, not mentioning.

And there’s a little history in that. Number one was Mom. Mom as a mother often told us to stop crying, stop whining, stop complaining. She wanted us to be happy children. If we couldn’t be happy, she wanted us to be quiet.

Then there’s history with my wife about this. Long ago, when I was twenty, I was severely sick for several days. We didn’t see doctors back then for things like that. Basically vomiting, not eating, listless, sweating a lot, lot of pain. That pain resulted in some moaning and groaning.

Yeah, I got over it and lived. But about a year later, my wife was speaking to others and talked about what a baby I was when I was sick and hurt. That insulted and angered me. I told her so when we were alone. It since became a theme for her to talk about how often men complain about being sick or hurt when women are so much hardier, and more willing to endure. I finally mentioned to my wife that I disliked this reductivism about men and pain. She’s done it off and on since, and once, after seeing me give her a look when she made such a statement, apologized and claimed that she wasn’t including me. Since then, she’s slowly drifted out of the habit.

But this is how we evolve. We have our basic attitudes and tendencies, and then we react to our environment. Part of that is how we react to what we hear. What is said about us, especially by those we love, admire, and trust. Maybe I’m being thin-skinned, but words matter. Part of my problem, too, is that I seem to have a very strong memory. I don’t easily forget or forgive.

I guess that’s my bottom line.

1

Satyrdaz Theme Music

Satyrda, September 27, 2025. 72 F and sunny with an autumn blue sky. 88 F is the expeceted peak temperature for Ashlandia.

Another night of dreams means another hour of recording the details and thinking through meanings. Meanwhile, The Neurons served up “Changes” by Yes. Not just for the closing of another coffee haunt, but several other local restaurants put up permanently closed signs. Both were good sources for vegan and vegetarian meals, which made them good for me and my wife, who is a vegetarian who eats fish and eggs. One was GoBowld, a terrific place for fresh organic food. I think it lasted less than a year. Second one, Sauce Whole Food which lasted several years before closing last week, another good place for fresh, tasty food with unique fusion blends, gone. Both were located where other businesses have cycled through, trying and failing to make a go. The locations seem fine but appear to be cursed. Anyway, all this prompted The Neurons to put “Changes” into my morning mental music stream.

My wife collected fruit and vegan cookies for Steve’s wife, Andi. Steve passed a week ago. Andy has multiple food allergies so they took this route. My spouse purchased a used basket from Goodwill and put it all together with a bow on it. We’ve made arrangements to deliver it to Andi today.

A whole pineapple is the centerpiece but it’s hard to see behind the shiny plastic. There’s also someone’s offering of homemade plum jam.

Pleased to see that the court ruled multiple statements Mike Lindell made about Smartmatic and Lindell’s bogus stolen election claims are defamatory. You’d think that would be lesson for Lindell and the whole stolen election contingent, but no, many of them don’t learn. They’re just like their master, DJ TACO Trump. Instead of learning, they’ll claim the legal system doesn’t work or the deep state didn’t give Lindell a fair trial.

May peace and grace find its way to us and lift us up and carry us on into a better life. Till then, I’m relying on coffee. Here we go. Cheers

2

Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

Well, Steve died. 85 years old. Diagnosed with cancer in his liver, kidneys, and lungs, his decline was a full slide down a steep hill. Just a few months ago, we were laughing, talking, enjoying drinks and music at a lake in the late afternoon sun. The question before us is, did he use the cocktail? This is Oregon where we have right to death laws. Steve had requested a cocktail to end his life and planned to use it. Laws control when the cocktail can be used. His wife was just requesting the cocktail last week, so we suspect that Steve died on his own yesterday, September 21, 2025.

I support the right to death, BTW. I’ve witnessed too many people growing feeble and drained by their disease to wish that on others. Many people can no longer probably communicate as they hang on by their skins. Sickness, pain, disease, and medication twist and torture their personalities into new folds. By the time of their death, they’re barely the person they used to be. But I also understand and respect others’ needs and desires to hold on as long as they can. Dying and death are complicated matters.

The thing about Steve is that we only knew each other for about three years. Our rapport was immediate. Our wives were good friends and we all became good friends, socializing multiple times at plays, concerts, and dinners. It just seemed like he and I knew each other forever.

Meanwhile, sis reports Mom has moved into her new room. Except Mom’s clothes are still upstairs. That’s a major matter. Although Mom tends to wear a series of night clothes and casual active wear these days, her closet was rigidly organized by season, color, and fabric. Tough transition for her, to cull the threads to current needs only.

This growing old, though. Coping. It’s tough. I’m at the coffee shop thinking and typing. A casual friend of two decades comes by. She uses two canes now to get around but her smile remains as bright as sunshine off snow brilliant.

All just thoughts to help me sort matters, matters which I’ll probably continue sorting until I do my own self-checkout. I won’t even try to predict when that’ll come. From what I’ve seen, change can be sudden and complete. Then again, some demises are a long trip into night.

4

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