Tuesday’s Theme Music – Wrong
Ashland, southern Oregon. Tuesday, September 15, 2026.
Going to warm up to 80 here, giving us a warm late summer day. 57 F under blue skies.
I spent time on the phone with Mom the last several days. Or tried. I would call her and she wouldn’t answer. She would call me but I would be out doing things.
Per a text agreement, I called her at 9 AM yesterday. Didn’t get her. She called me hours later. They took her to Forbes Hospital in an ambulance. Another UTI infection. Severe pain. She was given an antibiotic by IV.
She asked me to ask some favors of Gina, my sister who is Mom’s primary helper among the family in the area. Gina agreed but warned that if Mom said anything nasty, Gina would cut her off.
But Gina is helping Mom, visiting her in the hospital, helping her sit up to eat lunch (chef’s salad), sending us a photo of Mom in bed. Mom is getting an IV of Ertapenem now. Gina stayed longer with Mom, telling Mom stories and making her laugh. Peace is at hand for a few hours.
As for Trump and the United States…
Satisfying that the Roberts Court ruled against Trump and the mail-in ballot scam he’d concocted with the USPS. I laughed and shook my head when I read comments on the ruling that ‘the liberal judges had done it again’. Yes, such a VERY liberal Roberts Court, isn’t it?
Naturally, Trump attacked the justices he appointed for this decision.
Your Trump Quote of the Day:
Clearly, the deep state got to those justices…right? That’s how the Trump and MAGA mind work.
Donald Trump Jr had his wedding paid in part by a Russian oligarch. Many are making a big thing about it. But c’mon, man, you know how expensive weddings are. And Donald Trump Jr barely has a crypto to his name. Sad face. So happy that a Russian oligarch was there to bail those young lovers out. I’m sure there’s no sweet deal going on there, no reciprocity expected, no politics, scheming, and conning involved. No, this was just an oligarch being magnanimous to the billionaire president’s poor son.
Besides, it’s not like the wedding was a lavish affair. Like most Americans, it was a small thing, involving only friends and family, lasting only three days, held on two private islands, with a fireworks show.
I’m sure that Americans struggling with food and gas security, worrying about paying off credit card bills, coping with the rising cost of healthcare, gas, water, and utilities totally understand.
A Federal judge also ruled that Trump’s name can’t be added to the Kennedy Center. Judge Christopher Cooper was pretty clear about it:
“Simply put,” the board “cannot install memorials for President Trump or anyone or anything else at the Kennedy Center without Congress’s blessing.”
Thank you, Judge Cooper.
Too bad someone couldn’t tell Trump that Congress needs to approve what he does with the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool and the White House east wing.
For the record, Trump’s Iran War continues, driving up inflation, causing death, and costing our nation and world.
With things going so poorly for Donald Trump on multiple fronts, I expect some fresh AI-generated posting featuring Trump as someone else who is more respected and admired than him. Either that, or he’ll launch more military attacks, screw up another monument or Federal building, or complain about how much he’s not appreciated. Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! never rests.
Busy day ahead for me. Don’t get me wrong — I have a cushy life. ‘Busy’ means medical, dental, and haircut appointments, and I’m always staying busy with writing. Reading, too, as I’m trying to finish reading “John of John” before the library summons me to return the book. And house and yard work.
Thinking about being wrong, as in, “Trump is always so wrong”, as in war, tariffs, economy, manufacturing, grass, AI, history, intelligence…I have Dr John’s 1973 song in mind. “Right Place, Wrong Time” is a fun blend of rock, pop, R&B and funk. He has a lot of fun with the lyrics.
Love the trombone player in this video. She’s enjoying herself.
Sample Lyrics
I been the right place
But it must have been the wrong time
My head was in a place
But I’m having such a good time
I been running trying to get hung up in my mind
Got to give myself a little talking to this time
Just need a little brain salad surgery
Got to cure this insecurity
I been in the wrong place
But it must have been the right time
I been in the right place
But it must have been the wrong song
I been in the right vein
But it seems like the wrong arm
I been in the right world
But it seems wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong
Slipping, dodging, sneaking
Creeping hiding out down the street
See me life shaking with every who I meet
Refried confusion is making itself clear
Wonder which way do I go to get on out of here
Time to go out and see the world and let the world view me again.
May this day pass for you in comfort and security, perhaps with a little booze.
Cheers
The Negotiations
Grandma and her granddaughter came into the coffee shop. They’re lovely regulars.
Today, the granddaughter declared, “I want ice cream.”
Grandma said, “No, you can’t have ice cream for lunch.”
“I want ice cream.”
“How ’bout chicken noodle soup?”
The granddaughter pouted. “I want chocolate ice cream.”
“How ’bout if you eat chicken noodle soup first and then you can have a little ice cream?”
“I will have chicken noodle soup and then chocolate ice cream,” the little girl agreed.
They moved to the counter and ordered the soup.
The barista said, “I’m sorry, we’re out of the soup.”
Grandma was amazed. “You’re out of the soup?”
“How ’bout a piece of pizza focaccia bread for lunch?” the barista suggested.
As grandma and her granddaughter agreed, the barista said, “Oh, no. We’re out of focaccia pizza, too.”
“You’re out of the pizza thing, too?” Grandma was amazed.
A breakfast burrito was suggested as a compromise.
No ice cream was ever ordered.
Yet.
The Toilets Dream
Last night’s dream was a masterclass in chaos. Had a lot of fecal matter, too.
Backing up a little, I was again in the military, running some operations center. They’d been having issues there and I arrived to fix them. Which I immediately started doing, explaining it to the young airmen there. They began to understand what I was doing.
Weird thing was, the operations center wasn’t the classic secure and windowless, vaultlike facility where I usually worked during my military career. No, this place was part of some kind of large and busy convention center. People were coming and going. Loud, it was getting busier.
After arriving and doing some things at the ops center, I drifted out and changed clothes. Well, I basically took off everything except my underwear. Then I decided to go back to work to ensure everything was okay. To do that, I donned a short, furry pink robe that barely covered my rear end. Wearing only it and my undies, off I went to work.
Musicians were finishing a conference in the ops center, something which was entirely aligned with what I expected. Although they didn’t have instruments, I knew they were musicians, holding a meeting in the ops center conference room. I talked with them a bit, asking about how it had gone, small talk.
Others were impatiently waiting to use the conference room. I rushed around to get it ready for them but so many people were going in and out that I struggled to get anything done. Part of my cleaning was to check the commodes.
The first was out on a busy floor’s center. On carpet. No walls, no way to have privacy.
Which didn’t surprise me. Getting to the toile, I found – OMG, it was completely full with feces!
I was disgusted and angry. What was wrong with people that they kept using it when it obviously not working? How did they even do it? They would have had to squat over the toilet to avoid the piled crap.
I had no idea how to clean it out; there was no water, no way to use a plunger. I would need to shovel that shit out first. I was going to find someone else to do that, and that was an issue for later.
There was another toilet availab. I rushed to check it, confirm it was okay, and tell everyone to use it. But guess what? It, too, was stopped up. It at least had water and wasn’t as full but as soon as I put a plunger in, feces-filled water slopped out.
Nuts. Filling conspicuous in my short pink robe and bare white legs, I decided to go change before trying to fix this mess. Along the way, I ran into my superiors and gave them an update on the twin messes. Then I went on to change.
Dream end
The Net’s Take on Trump This Week
Thank you to those in Ireland who took the time to make Trump a greeting for his pending visit.
h/t to Daily Kos.
Couldn’t put it better myself.
Over in sports, they’re talking about the Trump Curse. Two of the three teams Trump he mentioned as capable of winning the Superbowl, New England and the Los Angeles Rams, lost their season’s first game. It’s a long season, though. Trump will probably deny he ever said it.
Trump is scrambling like a quarterback under a fierce pass rush, trying to buy time, searching for ways to remain in power. First was the effort to block voting by mail, now thrown out by another court — or was it Republican efforts to gerrymander their way to power? The two actions were being done in parallel.
More recently came the $5K ‘Trump Dividend’, money Trump is willing to pay out of the nation’s funds if his party stays in power.
“Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
On to the net.
And a little satire…
Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts
A woman and a young boy stood near me in the coffee shop. Appearing to be about ten years old, he was occupied with a phone.
Smiling, the woman asked him, “Are you playing Pokemon?”
The boy briskly nodded.
She patted his shoulder. “Your mother used to love to play Pokemon. She played all the time.”
The kid looked up at her like she’d changed into a flying creature.
I laughed to myself, kind of amazed to think that children who used to play Pokemon now have children playing Pokemon. It’s been around that long.
But it’s the thing really to think of your children having children or grandchildren. Just another measurement of how life advances.
Sunday’s Theme Music — Waiting
Sunday, September 6, 2026. Ashland, southern Oregon.
I went out with Vee — our visitor cat — to check the weather situation. Heavy gray asserted itself overhead, especially to the south. 48 F, one small cup of blue sky was visible and sunshine was lost behind the clouds. “Doesn’t look like it’ll be sunny today,” I said.
“Yeah, feed me, please,” Vee answered.
‘Bout ten minutes later, rain fell. Ten minutes after than, sunshine crashed through the clouds.
Bottom line for us, it’ll be 68 F as our high, with clouds, rain, and sunshine. More springlike weather on this late summer day. Autumn is on the way.
We can use more rain. Not far away, Emigrant Lake is down to just 4% of itself now because of the long drought and the lack of snow last winter.
All quiet on the family side of life. Last I heard from any of them was the other day, when sister Gina was caught in heavy downpour in Pittsburgh while taking her grandson, now a high school student, home from his clarinet lessons. Winds blew down trees and power lines. Streets were flooding, forces many route changes. But they made it safely. Bonding with weather, I can imagine them remembering this together when he has a family and he’s visiting grandma.
Meanwhile, the White House is pushing forward to stop voting by mail, challenging recent court setbacks in the Roberts Court. I wouldn’t be surprised if they rule that Trump can proceed, 5-4, with Roberts again dissenting, questioning the legality.
Trump’s approval rating remains anchored to about 35% of the nation’s voters. The rest of us disapprove of him. So it’s no wonder that Trump is trying to game the system. That’s how he’s always gotten ahead.
Trump Approval Rating: Underwater in the Newest National Polls
I’m basically drifting right now, waiting for the Roberts Court’s ruling, waiting for the next evolution in the Iran War, waiting for the midterms, waiting, waiting, waiting. I can’t wait until Trump is gone. He’s a pox on civilization.
I ended up with Stevie Nicks and “I Can’t Wait” in my morning mental music stream. The Neurons put the 1985 there because of the song’s title. But Stevie is singing about a different kind of anticipation when she’s waiting.
Sample Lyrics
I can’t wait, I can’t wait
Sometimes she talks to him
Sometimes, well, she’s only dreaming
Then, when she wakes up
Somehow, well, she still believes him
Yes, I know you
Though we’ve been out of touch
Yes, I know you
To be continued, it’s too much, well
Although that final line, “It’s too much”, does fit.
May your day proceed without waits to find out what the hell is going to happen. Be strong and go in peace.
Cheers
Friday’s Wandering Thought
I was stripping off my clothes this evening when I spotted a peeping tom at the bedroom’s sliding glass door. Eyes big, they watched everything that I was doing.
Then I saw that it wasn’t a tom — it was Vee, the cat who likes visiting us. She’s not a tom. She’s a queen!
I went over and let her in. Giving a friendly chirp, she popped in and wound herself around my legs.
Knowing the ritual, I headed for the treat bag. Vee trotted alongside, veering right to rub up against my wife’s leg for a moment.
“Who is this?” my wife teased.
“Peeping tom,” I replied. Picking up the treat bag, I gave it a shake and jogged to the back door.
The peeping tom beat me to there. Back outside, I gave her treats, scratched her ears, and admonished, “Now stop peeping on me, girl.”
Busy eating, Vee gave no answer.
On A Day Like This
Walking through a sun-filled day, enjoying the shade given by the large old trees, I came up a small hill to the town cemetery. Large crows making a racket descended toward one grave.
They are such intelligent birds, I wondered what had their attention and stopped to watch.
Falling silent, the crows went into the ground.
Gawking, I stopped and waited for the crows to reappear. A wind gently stirred the trees. There must be a hole in the ground which I couldn’t see, I decided.
Looking for traffic, I started across the street but couldn’t lift my feet. My shoes felt anchored to the pavement. Run, my mind shouted. Go the other way.
Then the crows emerged from the earth.
My breath caught.
I swallowed hard. They carried something.
A large body.
The crows carried a limp, black-clothed body with their claws.
Loudly cawing, the birds flew up past the trees, lifting their burden into the blue sky. A black cloud rapidly grew above them. Cawing all the way, the crows took the body into the black cloud.
Then the cloud and birds disappeared, leaving me wreathed in a quiet, late summer day.
I stayed almost frozen, attention shifting between where the black cloud was before and the grave. After some seconds I blinked, refusing to grasp what I saw.
The grave was gone. Unmarked green grass grew where the crows had entered.
Suspecting I probably wouldn’t remember any of this, I strode on, picking up speed. Glancing back over my shoulder, I struggled to recall, what did I see back there?
Laughing at my failing memory, I went down the street, soaking up the late summer day, saying hello to a person on a bike going the other way.
Lifting my face, I deeply inhaled. The weather felt wonderful. Anything is possible on a day like this, I thought.
I looked forward to what it would be.
Michael Seidel, writer 