The Trend…
Excluding oral surgeries, I’ve had four surgeries in the past half dozen years.
A urologist did the first for a blocked bladder. Next came a broken arm and orthopedic surgery, followed by an orthopedic surgeon repairing a ruptured tendon. Then, last fall, a different surgeon removed my gallbladder.
What’s interesting about this is that these four surgeons left the system within a few months of doing my surgery.
My suspicions are inflamed. Were they just put there to operate on me or did operating on me give cause to have them removed?
Either way, it’s a troubling trend.
I’m keeping an eye on my oral surgeon. At least he’s still here.
For now.
Expectations Met
I tried logging into Gmail this morning.
This page came up:
“We’re sorry, but your account is temporarily unavailable. We apologize for the inconvenience and suggest trying again in a few minutes. You can view the Google Workspace Status Dashboard for the current status of the service.
If the issue persists, please visit the Help Center »“
Well, hell.
The “Google Workspace Status Dashboard” shows a green checkmark for the current status. Everything is working fine.
Just as I expected.
It’s just me.
Friday’s Theme Music – Wasted
Ashland, Oregon — Friday, March 13, 2026. Ah, Friday the 13th.
I’m surprised that this is considered a day of bad luck. One, because our ancestors thought Friday was a scary day, the scariest of the week.
What? As someone who worked and partied, I always thought Friday was a good day. It was frequently regulated to a quasi half-day. How is that a bad thing?
The ’13’ part comes from the number being perceived as imperfect. “Ancient Romans and later European traditions also treated 13 as a break in the natural order, contrasting it with the “complete” number 12 (months, zodiac signs, apostles).”
Well, that’s kind of funny and arbitrary. The months are divided into different lengths — 28 (or maybe 29), 30, and 31 days. That seems imperfect. But there’s a ‘perfect’ set of twelve of them.
Yet, we only have two each of limbs, eyes, ears, legs. Just one mouth. Guess we’re not perfect or we’d have twelve of each.
It’s all so silly. That’s why I trust my lucky underwear, my lucky pen, and three beeps on the microwave. They’re proven to bring good fortune. I’d loan you my underwear but it’s just my bad luck that they need washed.
Today finds us cloudy but pleasantly warmish and coolish outside, with sun and blue sky playing peek-a-boo with the clouds. 46 F now, a high in the mid 60s is anticipated.
Quiet continues on the Mom front, and the news shows war, violence, chaos. Thanks, Mr. Trump. It feels like it was an unlucky day when you were elected — both times.
Today’s music is “Wasted on the Way”. The Neurons slipped the Crosby, Stills, Nash song into the morning mental music stream when I was thinking about how Trump wastes the world.
Lives are being wasted by Trump’s hate, biases, indifference. Opportunities wasted by his greed and ego. He’s creating a wasted world, ignoring warnings about climate change, starting wars that destabilize the diplomatic order, breaking agreements which fracture the business world, raising havoc and prices.
Then he tells us it’s all going great.
The biggest question on my mind for the peace president, unifier, and founder of the Board of Peace is, when will Trump stop the bombing and killing that he started, so that others can begin picking up the pieces and putting things back together?
I hope this day isn’t a waste for you. May peace and grace find and keep you.
Cheers
It’s Tuesday
Coffee smells landed. I breathed it in.
The barista greeted me from the counter, “Hey, Michael.”
“Hi, Natalie.” I slid my payment over as she wrote up my order.
“How’s it going?” she asked.
An espresso machine hissed. I shrugged. “It’s Tuesday, isn’t it.”
She nodded. Natalie loves shouting with a big, lovely grin, “It’s Tuesday, innit?”
Today, she said, “Just two days in and it’s already a burden.”
I smiled. “Too true.”
Natalie began entering the order into the register.
“You have my Co-op number?” I asked.
Her emerald eyes widened. “Five nine nine six?”
Classic rock spilled out of the speakers.
“Bingo,” I shouted.
Natalie and I laughed like maniacs.
“It’s Tuesday, innit?” I asked.
Natalie bent over in laughter. “It’s Tuesday, innit?”
Good to Laugh
It’s good to laugh, especially when I can laugh at Trump. Jill Dennison again provides the need laugh-fuel for a weary feeling March Tuesday. Here are my top choices from her terrific solution. Hope you read the rest and find your own.
Feels good to laugh, even when it hurts a little because it’s all too damn true and real.
Michael Seidel, writer 