Tag: humor

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Ashland, Oregon — Monday, February 17, 2026.

Our first snowfall of the season has arrived. 32 F, about 3 inches have accumulated in my area. Heavier accumulations are expected in the mountains, but much more is needed. We depend on the snowbanks for our summer water.

It’s a pretty scene out there. At this temperature and elevation, heavy, fat flakes fall without stop. We’re expected to warm up to 41 today and the snow is forecast to become rain. Temperatures tonight are projected to drop into the upper twenties, and more snow is possible.

Speaking for himself, Papi offered a disdainful sniff and found a place inside to groom.

I had my best night sleep in days last, and my mind moves through concerns. My cold is winding down, as expected for day 6. Only one nostril is blocked, no sinus pressure is felt, and the violent sneezes that left my abdomen sore have subsided.

My wife asked yesterday, “Which is worse, cold pain or your oral surgery pain?”

Oh, easy, the cold by far. I feel next to nothing from the oral surgery. The surgical team did a good job. I still have stitches, but they’ll fall out on their own.

My wife’s cold seemed to be gone by Sunday. I had it worse than her but for both it was an upper respiratory infection.

Mom’s situation has occupied me more than my health and weather. After her suicide attempt on Saturday, we had a mandatory stay put on her for evaluation. A psychiatrist reversed that yesterday and the hospital said she could be discharged.

It seemed like the hospital was falling short in several areas. Mom was supposed to be evaluated for 72 hours for mental health and physical issues. They also said they had to wait to see if her urine tested negative for infections, which was supposed to be four days. Their rushed timeline alarmed us.

Besides Mom’s health, we have questions over where she will live and how she’ll get care. Yesterday involved phone calls and texts, trying to sort information and get answers. Today we have more methodical movement.

Essentially, because no family members would pick Mom up, the hospital was forced to house her again. It’s a painful way to say it but that’s the truth.

Physical and occupational therapists evaluated her today. They recommend assisted living or a skilled nursing home for Mom. The social worker seemed remote and disengaged yesterday. Today, she provided recommendations and contacts for finding housing and assistance for Mom.

Venting a little, I foresaw this years ago and tried getting Mom into a better place but she, bolstered by Frank’s presence, didn’t want to address it. Now it’s a crisis. It could have gone so much better, but yes, I know, it’s an emotional issue for most of us. I worry that I’ll be like Mom if I have to make such decisions in my future.

I’m hopeful that with the focus on Mom, we’ll finally get her somewhere that can provide her with satisfactory arrangement. An agency has been contacted to work out the arrangements to see what Mom wants and needs, and review the financial part. It’s progress.

Dad’s wife reached out to me yesterday via text. He was writing Christmas cards when he suddenly became ill and died. The cards were never sent.

His wife told me that he loved doing the cards each year, which surprised me, and that his card to me and my wife was in the mail. I think it sweet of him and her extra effort moves me.

In other focus areas, I’m concerned with the different military buildups happening around the world. More war machines are being shifted to the Arctic area. Additional U.S. troops are in Africa in advisory and training capacities. History shows that such involvement can easily rise into armed conflicts.

It’s a great concern with Trump. When Americans — two military members and a translator — were killed by ISIS, Trump ordered attacks in December. Operation Hawkeye Strike against 70 ISIS targets in Syria was conducted in early days but the military campaign is still active.

Just as worrying, a second U.S. carrier group is being sent to that region. It seems like the world is moving from trying diplomatic channels to manage disagreements to using military force.

Finally, to complete the circle of concerns, got my auto insurance bill yesterday. Premiums jumped $50, adding to our general affordability worries.

Jumping onto the idea of circles, The Neurons ordered some Billy Preston. “Will It Go Round in Circles” from 1973 is playing in the morning mental music stream. I also enjoy the song’s musical intricacies, and the lyrics make me grin. Here’s my favorite part.

Lyrics

I’ve got a dance
I ain’t got no steps, no
I’m gonna let the music move me around
I’ve got a dance
I ain’t got no steps
I’m gonna let the music move me around

Yes, just let the music move me around.

Now I got my coffee. I had a cup yesterday, first since my surgery, but today, I’m drinking it hot out of the pot.

Hope your day finds a groove that takes you to a place where peace and grace join you and makes your life a little better.

Cheers

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Monday’s Wandering Thoughts

I always like headlines like this:

All 32 NFL teams (including the Broncos) ranked by 2026 strength of schedule

I thought, wow, they’re including the Broncos when they say ‘all’? Man, that is deep.

I expect to see headlines soon like ‘All of the planets (including Earth) in order according to their distance from the sun.’

‘All four seasons (including winter) ranked by temperature.’

Or, how about, ‘All five oceans (including the Pacific) in square miles.’

Going back to the NFL headline, I wonder, why call out the Broncos out of 32 teams? Strange, no?

Stranger still how much I spend thinking about things like this.

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Awesome Toons

Just in time to save my sanity, I clicked on Jill Dennison’s Saturday Afternoon ‘Toon Time! Quite a collection of humor, I encourage you to check them out. Meanwhile, here are my Saturday super-seven favorites.

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For Donald

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.

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Hi Yourself

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.

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Another DIY Challenge!

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.

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Monday’s Wandering Thoughts

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.

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Floofcedarian

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.”

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The Loop of Inanity

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.

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