Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I live a dull life
Behind the blinds
Peering out to see –
Is anyone trying
to get inside?
Watching all those neighbors
Coming and go
Wondering if the police
Are ever gonna show.
The crimes they’re committing
In my mind
Are the terrible most worse crimes
Of all time.
I need a big stick
To beat them all down.
Until I do, they’ll treat me
like some big orange clown.
Stepping into the coffee shop, I immediately scan for a table and chair to sit and write.
It’s late morning and busy. Aha, though — two tables are there for —
“Hey, Michael.”
I’m being accosted from across the room. The speaker is a barista. Having shouted out my name, they’ve busy multi-tasking.
Spotting Kat first, I begin, “Hey, Ka — “
I see Natalie.
I don’t know which called out.
So I finish, “Talie.”
Chuckling to myself about this, I dumped my gear at a table and head to the counter. Kat is manning the register and Natalie is busy preparing my coffee. I hear Natalie say, “Curling,” before she turns away.
Kat asks, “Let me ask you, Michael. Are you watching the Olympics?”
“Only the curling,” I reply.
Natalie roars with laughter as Kat’s mouth drops open.
“No way,” Kat finally says.
“Yes, way,” I answer. “By the way. When I came in, I heard one of you say hello to me. I didn’t know who it was, so I called you Katalie.”
The two bend over with laughter. “We ARE Katalie,” Kat shouts. Whipping toward each other, she and Natalie exchange high fives.
I pay and take my coffee. The writing day has an auspicious beginning.
A foul odor haunts the master bathroom, where a water closet shares a tiled shower stall.
When the smell — something smelly but not sweet — struck a few days ago, I thought, what the hell is that? Then I began trying to figure it out.
I’m really not sure where the smell is coming up. Several ideas hit my brain: broken or backed-up sewer line, broken toilet seal, or shower P trap, with an almost ancillary worry, maybe it’s a dead animal or animal latrine in the crawl space.
The shower isn’t used that often, typically three times a week, typically three to six minutes. I know this because I’m the only one who uses it, so I know when someone steps into the shower instead of the bath.
The smell lacks the ‘sweet decay’ that a dead animal often exudes. It’s more of a crappy smell. I noticed, too, that it seemed to dissipate when I showered. That said, I wasn’t positive that I wasn’t just becoming tolerant with exposure. The smell isn’t growing, either.
There’s no smell outside, and no wet areas or especially green growths, so I don’t think it’s a broken sewer line. The floor around the toilet isn’t soft, wet, or showing stains, and the toilet doesn’t rock when I use it, so I don’t think it’s the toilet wax seal.
Given what I’ve read and experienced, I think it’s that P trap. So now I’ll investigate, try different suggestions, see what results.
It’s not the largest problem I face, or the world has. Just another thing to pull my attention from other things.
Just what 2026 needs.
We attended a musical show in Talent last Sunday. The woman beside me started chatting during intermission. Eventually, she asked, “Where do you live?”
“Ashland. And you?”
“Ashland. I moved here in 1976. When did you move to Ashland?”
“Over twenty years ago.”
“Really? A town this size, I meet many people but I don’t recall seeing you before.”
I smiled. “Well, we’re southies. We live on the southern end.”
“Southies.” She laughed. “I like that. Yes, I’m on the northwestern end of town.”
The show resumed. I wondered where she did her grocery shopping. Ashland is unofficially divided into the center, north, and south. North Ashland doesn’t have a grocery store. The south is the town’s newest area and offers five stores. A small Safeway is the only store in the center.
Townies who have lived here a while seem to go to Medford for their shopping needs, especially WinCo. From conversations, it seems like the southern stores — Market of Choice, Shop N Kart, Albertson’s, BiMart, and Grocery Outlet — haven’t been there ‘that long’. In fact, old timers often regale us with what ‘used to be there’ and how they loved those previous places.
I didn’t get a chance to ask my new friend where she shopped, but I’ll be sure to take it up with her, next time I run into her.
Floofcedarian (floofinition) – Someone learning about the rudimentary needs of animals, especially housepets. Origins: floofcedary “floof primer” (going back to Middle Flooflish floofcedary, derived from Middle Flooftin floofcedārium). First known use, 1703 – “Practickal Advice for Floofcedarians”.
In Use: “After rescuing a vocal kitten from a heavy, Sly and Benji became overnight floofcedarians, chasing information on the net about to care for the first pet either of them had ever had.”
Once again, the Loop of Inanity swirled through my life. If you’re not aware of it, the Loop of Inanity is part of the Cycle of Enshittification.
Cory Doctorow coined enshittification for us. Miriam-Webster expanded on its meaning:
“Enshittification is an informal word used to criticize the degradation in the quality and experience of online platforms over time, due to an increase in advertisements, costs, or features. It can also refer more generally to any state of deterioration, especially in politics or society. Similar forms include enshittify and enshittified.”
As part of enshittification’s decay process, many companies will invoke the Loop of Inanity. The Loop of Inanity is recurring cycle in which an organization or system produces contradictory or self-defeating actions because its processes operate without shared awareness, accountability, or context.
In example: American Family Insurance provided my home and car insurance for several decades until a few years ago. A letter was received that they were no longer insuring homes in my area, southern Oregon. Oh, and since they weren’t insuring my home, I was no longer ‘bundled’. Therefore, my car insurance rates were increasing.
In response, I shopped for new home and auto insurance and canceled my policies with American Family Insurance.
Yet, here was a piece of mail from American Family Insurance asking for my business. Urging me to BUNDLE AND SAVE, they also assured me that I WAS PRE-APPROVED FOR THEIR INSURANCE.
Bite me, I said, tearing up the mail and tossing it.
American Family Insurance would have to be the last insurance company in the world before I’ll give them my business, because I don’t like how they gave me the business.
It’s all part of the enshittification of modern life.
As part of a celebratory do my wife recently organized, we ended up with 100 plastic plates. Small, white, with gold trim, we’d purchased them so guests could enjoy some finger foods.
She had them stacked in the sink and mentioned that she had to wash them. I asked, “Want me to wash them?”
My wife replied, “I didn’t want them to go into the landfill, and I think they can be used again. I already washed them, but I think they feel greasy, so I want to wash them again.” Then she walked away.
I washed the plates.
It’s Saturday, January 31, 2026. Almost time to close the books on 2026’s first month.
Colder air returned to Ashland as last night’s temps found the mid-thirties. We’re already close to our high now, 57 F. This remains a hell of a lot better than places like Pennsylvania, where my sister told me it was 9 degrees F during our text exchange.
It’s still a dry winter for us in Ashland. Mt. Ashland, our local ski resort, is closed due to a lack of snow. Even snow machines couldn’t create the needed conditions. That doesn’t spell good news for our local tourism, and that ripples out to employment and the economy.
Our local economy is already suffering with tourism and college enrollment down, utility prices up, and wheat exports cratered. Southern Oregon wheat farmers had a bad 2025 as fertilizer prices jumped and wheat prices fell. It can take years to recover from setbacks like these for farmers, and right now, the Trump solution is a handout. Long term solutions aren’t being addressed. It feels like we’re dying from a thousand cuts.
As American states dig out from Winter Storm Fern’s effects, I’m watching for the Trump Effect (TE). The TE is the combination of unforeseen circumstances brought on by short-sighted decisions and the Trump philosophy. Short-sighted decisions were witnessed when Trump unleashed Elon Musk and DOGE last year. Firing people and breaking systems, the Trump Administration then needed to rehire people to come back and fix things — or train people to replace them.
The Trump philosophy (TP) is about the Federal government’s cutback on services and assistance given to states. For example, the Mississippi Emergency Management Agent (MEMA) said the Trump administration announced the disaster assistance threshold for Mississippi was increased from $5.5 million to $22 million. That leaves a gap that MEMA doesn’t think it can cover.
As with everything — deep breath — we’ll see.
Trying to raise my spirits, Papi the ginger wonder and I played this morning, a game of chase with a laser pointer. Papi endured it for about 2.25 minutes but during that time, he was a wild thing. Watching him, Les Neurons popped “Gimme Dat Ding” by the Pipkins, a 1970 novelty song. It was perfect for Papi’s red dot pursuit — “Gimme dat! Gimme dat!”
Hope you have a comfortable day wherever you are, no matter the season, and that peace and grace come along with some props. Cheers
Coffee house hissing, loud laughter, and boisterous conversations swam around me. Waiting in line, a barista prepared quiches and burritos and told me about her cat until I reached the register.
Jessie, the cashier, has grave eyes with a welcoming but cautious smile. As she rang up my order, I tilted my gaze to a cheap-looking white ring on her third finger.
Wondering if it had symbolic meaning, I suggested, “That’s an interesting ring.”
Holding her hand up, Jessie regarded the ring and chuckled. “My sister-in-law lost her wedding ring in the ocean one year. I started worrying that I’d lose mine, so now I only wear my wedding ring on special occasions.”
Turning the ring on her finger, she looked off and smiled to herself. “I wear rings like this instead. I have a bunch of them and let my daughter pick them out for me. She’s say, ‘Today, you’ll wear pink.’ Or, ‘I think you’ll wear orange.'”
We laughed together. Walking off, I imagined her daughter giving her a pink ring to put on her finger.
Michael Seidel, writer 