Oppressive humidity is doing in the morning. Not overly high humidity in the general sense. We’re just not used to humidity here.
It’s Frida, September 5, 2025. Temperature is 72 F but it feels warmer and less comfortable due to the humidity. We’ll peak in the low 90s today, unlike yesterday, when we clashed with 97 F.
My sister-in-law and her boyfriend arrived. Although they came in from Florida, they weren’t prepared for the heat. They’d been on the coast, then went inland to see the redwoods, and talked about the 30-degree temperature change they experienced in a short time and distance. The boyfriend, a year or two my senior, then asked as we walked around, “Can we go to somewhere with air-conditioning and sit down for a pint?” He’s an amiable individual. An engineer, we discovered that he and I grew up in Pittsburgh suburbs about four miles of each other. We’re both Steeler football fans. Besides three pints, he drank a tumbler of scotch during the space of dinner and the next two hours.
They’re sleeping in this morning after doing a lot of driving and traveling over the past three days. Once they call, we’ll take them somewhere local for food and then do local sightseeing.
I saw the jobs report this morning. Funny that firing the BLS person responsible for the last dismal jobs report didn’t change the dismal numbers. Just 22,000 jobs added. Oh, my. Not looking good for Trump’s economy. These hard numbers are backing up the anecdotes we’re hearing about business chains closing locations, small and medium businesses shuttering their doors, layoffs being announced. Lots of FAFO stories emerging. Of course, that could be the news services which I frequent catering to my interests and attitudes, at least to some degree. I try vesting such info as best as I can but that’s a challenge in this digital era.
Today’s music arrived from a confluence of events. One, Papi and I were out last night. I first was checking the moon, then looking for spaceships. Papi accompanied me. I’m not sure what he was checking out. Then, I dreamed that I was cooking. The meal was coming out looking good and smelled good. It was being done in this strange little apartment. But as I was cooking, several Russians stopped by. They were mostly talking to my wife but also addressing questions to me. This annoyed and distracted me.
The net of this, as I recalled last night and the dream, is that The Neurons rose up with a Jackson Browne song called “Lawyers in Love”. A satirical song about U.S. politics, consumerism, and U.S. pop culture, its lyrics feature both Russians and spaceships. I enjoy the song, but many friends thought it odd when it came out. Of course, that’s precisely why I enjoyed it.
I can’t keep up with what’s been going on I think my heart must just be slowing down Among the human beings in their designer jeans Am I the only one who hears the screams And the strangled cries of lawyers in love
God sends his spaceships to America, the beautiful They land at six o’clock and there we are, the dutiful Eating from TV trays, tuned in to Happy Days Waiting for World War III while Jesus slaves To the mating calls of lawyers in love
Last night I watched the news from Washington, the capitol The Russians escaped while we weren’t watching them, like Russians will Now we’ve got all this room, we’ve even got the moon And I hear the U.S.S.R. will be open soon As vacation land for lawyers in love
I find it humorous and love the musical flourishes which reflect different eras of pop music.
Time to rock and roll another day away. Hope that grace and peace finds and guides you. Have the best Frida possible. Cheers
Come in, come in, come in. Welcome to Thursda, June 12 2025.
It was a beautiful night for sleeping for me. After a high in the low 80s F yesterday, the night temp zipped down 52 F. I had a window open over my head and a light blanket on my nekkid body. Cool breezes lapped and refreshed me all night long. Truly a sinn-sational sleep experience. Hope the rest of the world experienced the same.
Today’s weather peeked over yesterday’s shoulder and said, “That’s what I’m going to do, too.” 64 F now, sunshine is climbing though cloud-hazed blue sky toward a high of 81 F.
It’s a rare Thursda’s fourfer in the morning mental music stream. Four reasons stand behind The Neurons’ thinking. First and second, two major musical influences on my childhood passed away. That would be Sly Stone and Brian Wilson. Third, PINO Trump is rolling the nation back to the 1960s, escalating violence and warning, “If you spit, we hit.” Fourth, I did some dreaming.
For Brian Wilson departure from this existence, The Neurons summoned a favorite of theirs, “Good Vibrations” from 1966. I was ten years old when the transistor radio speakers roared with this Beach Boy tune. I enjoyed it from the start.
For Sly Stone, The Neurons recalled “Everyday People”. I remembered my buddy Curt talking about this new song and how excited he was when it came on the radio when we were at the ballfield talking about getting a pickup game of baseball going. The song was a wonderful mélange of funk, rock, and pop with neat but meaningful lyrics.
For the 1960s vibe, Jackson Browne was drafted to play “Doctor My Eyes” from 1972. I just felt that the song, though an upbeat melody, captures and projects the weariness we’re enduring in the Age of Trump, when right is wrong, good is evil, and down is up. I particularly enjoy the memorable guitar work by Jesse Ed Davis.
Doctor, my eyes have seen the years And the slow parade of fears without crying Now I want to understand I have done all that I could To see the evil and the good without hiding You must help me if you can?
Doctor, my eyes, tell me what is wrong Was I unwise to leave them open for so long
‘Cause I have wandered through this world And as each moment has unfurled I’ve been waiting to awaken from these dreams People go just where they will I never noticed them until I got this feeling That it’s later than it seems
Finally, from the dream world comes the 1986 Van Halen offering, “Dreams”.
World turns black and white Pictures in an empty room Your love starts fallin’ down Better change your tune Yeah, you reach for the golden ring Reach for the sky Baby, just spread your wings
And get higher and higher Straight up we’ll climb We’ll get higher and higher Leave it all behind
Run, run, run away Like a train runnin’ off the track Got the truth bein’ left behind Fall between the cracks Standin’ on broken dreams Never losin’ sight, ah Well, just spread your wings
We’ll get higher and higher Straight up we’ll climb We’ll get higher and higher Leave it all behind
So baby, dry your eyes Save all the tears you’ve cried Oh, that’s what dreams are made of ‘Cause we belong In a world that must be strong Oh, that’s what dreams are made of
Songwriters: Sammy Hagar, Edward Van Halen, Alex Van Halen, Michael Anthony. From Musixmatch
Well, I’m off. Have your best day possible. Coffee, quick. Let’s go.
Beautifully autumn outside. Trees blaze, showing off fab colors. Blue sky highlights the look as the sun beams on it like a doting father. We’re up to 62 F after an overnight shift into the upper thirties. 74 F degrees is being held out a possible high.
My floofs are on this weather like children going after their Halloween candy. It’s perfect feline weather for the moment. Each boi has staked out sunny spots and are living up to their stereotypes as well-groomed, sun-loving beasts.
We received our latest COVID Jab — or COVAB, as I put to others but it’s not catching on. Went much like our first jab back into 2021. First hours, okay. Last night, the vax slammed me down and wouldn’t let me up. I crashed in a big way. Wrapped up in sheets and blankets, my head felt like a match that’d been struck and was burning. Then I spent a period of shivering uncontrollably.
After about thirteen hours of sleep, I forced myself out of bed. The cats helped. They’re like, “Dude, we must be fed and let out. Come on, get your priorities straight and get your ass out of bed.”
So I arose like a creaking suit of armor. Made my path to the kitchen where coffee was administered. Coffee is a wonder drug, don’tcha know. Anyway, I thought along the lines of being out of sync physically and mentally, a condition that borders on being called ‘sick’. The Neurons began playing Jackson Browne and “Doctor My Eyes”. Grazing through the net, I found this version from “Playing for Change”. Hope you like it.
Stay positive and test negative. Get the jab, as it will help, in the long run. Here’s the music. Where is my coffee?
First, it’s a longer post than usual for me. Politics drive it. Let’s get into it.
34 F greeted me in Ashlandia, where the sunshine is bright, and winters are above average. Blue skies, wind, and sunshine followed us into this Tuesday, December 12, 2023. Already 53 F, a high of 55 F is being suggested.
I’m disgusted, again, with political news. My focus now is on Texas. My major concern focuses on the anti-abortion farce in red states, and the bullshit about the issue which they spread. Texas under the GOP often competes with Florida is spreading the most disgusting bullshit. They succeeded this time with the case of Kate Cox. Pregnant, a mother of two and resident of Texas, her physician informed her that her fetus had trisomy 18. She was told her fetus had malformations of the spine, heart, brain and limbs.
What mother wants to hear that? A devastating diagnosis, most trisomy 18 pregnancies end in stillbirths. Infants born alive with this diagnosis endure anguished lives, which are often short and painful.
But those paragons of virtue we know as the Texas GOP knows better than doctors, unintentionally ironic. Remember how Republicans always insisted that ACA, or Obamacare, would have death panels if it was instituted. Yeah, look who insists on death panels now. That’d be you, Republicans. This is their interpretation of ‘right to life’; so long as your right belongs to them, they’ll decide who lives and dies.
Observers outside of the magic conspiracy cone where Republicans often now live expected this. We all know from experience that the right wing loves to project what it does on others. Just read almost anything that Donald Trump, a documented liar now in court for fraud and other crimes, says about lying and fraud. Remember when he said anyone being investigated by the FBI is unworthy of being POTUS. *chuckle*. Now that it’s him, it’s a witch-hunt being conducted by the deep state. The deep state is the GOP’s favorite boogeyman, their reason for anything happening against them.
Kate Cox was also told that if she continued her pregnancy, it posed threats to her health and was at risk of losing her future fertility.
Nonsense, those learned doctors on the Texas Supreme Court said, denying Kate Cox an abortion. She’d, fortunately, felt how the wind was blowing and vacated Texas to get the modern health care needed in a more advanced state than Texas, which would be every blue state.
What pisses me off as much as the stance taken by these cruel Texan frauds is that back when all these harsh anti-abortion bills were passed, those outside of the GOP conspiracy bubble had foreseen the shit that went down in Texas. We were revolted when Texas pretended to care about the mother’s health and exigent circumstances because we knew Texas Republicans were not the flexible, thoughtful, compassionate, and intelligent people their exemption bill needed them to be. And they proved so at the first opportunity.
Soon after the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade last year, horror stories started emerging of women denied medically urgent abortions for pregnancies gone dangerously awry. In response, the anti-abortion movement developed a sort of conspiracy theory to rationalize away the results of their policies.
Abortion rights activists, they argued, were deliberately misconstruing abortion laws, leading doctors to refuse to treat women who obviously qualified for exceptions. “Abortion advocates are spreading the dangerous lie that lifesaving care is not or may not be permitted in these states, leading to provider confusion and poor outcomes for women,” said a report by the anti-abortion Charlotte Lozier Institute. The Catholic conservative Richard Doerflinger accused “pro-abortion groups” of spreading “false and exaggerated claims in order to ‘paralyze’ physicians and discredit the laws.”
Whether this argument stemmed from genuine denial or a cynical desire to mislead the public, a shattering case in Texas shows how absurd it is. Late last month, Kate Cox, a 31-year-old mother of two, learned that her latest, much-wanted pregnancy was doomed because of a severe genetic disorder. If the pregnancy continued, she was likely to have a stillbirth, and if she didn’t, the baby had virtually no chance of surviving long outside the womb.
She’d made several trips to the emergency room for severe cramping and what seemed to be leaking amniotic fluid. Her doctor told her that carrying the pregnancy to term could jeopardize her future fertility, and Cox very much wants more children. So she, her husband and her doctor sued the state, seeking a court order to allow her to terminate her pregnancy in Texas. If the Texas abortion ban had workable medical exceptions, it’s hard to see how they wouldn’t apply to Cox. But it doesn’t, and the state attorney general, Ken Paxton, fought the Cox family and their doctor every step of the way.
Goldberg elaborates on what Kate Cox did chasing the exemption and pursuing the best outcome for her and her fetus, and concludes —
An irony here is that if the State Supreme Court had allowed Cox to end her pregnancy in Texas, it might have benefited hard-line abortion opponents. Were the state to codify clear exemptions for people in extreme medical distress, offering a sliver of mercy to women like Zurawski and Cox, its callous abortion ban might seem slightly more politically palatable. That, after all, is why abortion opponents falsely insist that such clarity already exists.
But right-wing politicians and those who support them would rather inflict unimaginable suffering on women than relax the tiniest bit of control over their medical decisions. I asked Duane if any anti-abortion groups had filed amicus briefs on Cox’s behalf. I wasn’t surprised that the answer was no.
Exactly.
In a tangent, I remember being horrified by what Donald J Trump declared when running for POTUS in 2016. There were some who suggested that he’d be different if he won because the office changed the person in it.
They were fucking wrong. All of us with eyes could clearly see what he would be. We were right, and we’re right now: his chuckling, aw-shucks comments about only be a dictator on the first day in office is total bullshit. That’s exactly what he wants.
By the way, in other Texas political news, Republicans have been battling to limit what moderators can do on Reddit. They passed HB20 in 2022. From CNN/Business:
Texas officials passed HB 20 last year amid allegations that tech platforms unfairly censor conservative speech. Social media companies have widely denied the claims, but the Texas law imposes sweeping obligations on platforms, prohibiting them from moving to “block, ban, remove, deplatform, demonetize, de-boost, restrict, deny equal access or visibility to, or otherwise discriminate against expression.”
Mainstream legal experts have said if HB 20 survives legal challenge, tech companies would be forced to host spam, hate speech, pornography and other legal-but-problematic material on their platforms in order to comply with the text of the law. It could also serve as a blueprint for other states. More broadly, they have said, letting the government force private parties to host speech would reverse decades of First Amendment precedent, which has held that the government may not compel private speech.
Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton celebrated the court ruling in a tweet, saying: “I just secured a MASSIVE VICTORY for the Constitution & Free Speech in fed court: #BigTech CANNOT censor the political voices of ANY Texan!”
Let’s pause to savor Paxton’s celebration for the Constitution and Free Speech for a few moments.
More evident of GOP hypocrisy and double standards, to me.
I’ve had three songs taking turns in the morning mental music stream (Trademark stolen by the deep state). First up was, “I’ll Do Anything” from the musical Oliver! No audit trail showed up to inform me why that song was in the stream.
The next came up in parallel to feeding the cats and was less of a surprise, as it was “My Floof” based on the song, “My Girl”, written by Smoky Robinson and Ronald White, and originally performed by The Temptations back in 1965. “My Floof” was performed by me and the Flooftations in my sunlit kitchen. Sorry, no videos exist.
Finally, though, Jackson Browne was singing “Doctor, My Eyes” from 1972, when I was in high school. The Neurons explained, the reason for this song’s presence in the morning mental music stream is simple and drawn right from the lyrics:
Doctor, my eyes have seen the years And the slow parade of fears without crying Now I want to understand I have done all that I could To see the evil and the good without hiding You must help me if you can
Alright, I’ve vented enough. Stay positive, be strong, and lean forward. Coffee is being served, and I shall partake. Have the best day you can muster. Here’s the music. Cheers
This is it, W-day, the event planned for over a year, the wedding day for my nephew, David, and his GF, Andrea. Charming, intelligent, fun people. I wish them the best and I’m happy to be here to take part. He’s 35 and we were a little skeptical he’d ever marry. He had a steady GF for twelve years but she didn’t want children. So, the chasm was there and off they went, their separate ways.
Their wedding is so different from my own experience, just me and my wife, with two friends in a chapel on Wright-Pat with a self-described broken-down boxer officiating. That was over 48 years ago of ups and down, in and outs. We’ve come to a comfortable balance, forgiving one another for irritations, supporting one another, and making each other laugh.
I met her parents last night, learned how they met, and where they live, and what they do. They lean different politically than I do, as does most of her family who I spoke to. All are from the midwest, mostly from small cities. The bride and groom share my political philosophies and live here in PGH. Don’t know how much all that matters as far as relationships; we were all amiable last night.
One woman I met works for a gun manufacturer. She walks a tightrope, her words, to strike a balance between the two sides. She told me that when growing up, her father, a Vietnam War vet, didn’t allow guns in the house. He told her, he knows what they can do. He also seemed to worry that the sight or sound of a gun might trigger a reaction in him.
W-day weather is finely shining, coolly comfortable, with a cloudless embrace and teasing light winds. High: 72 F.
Still tracking what Lee is doing to the Northeast, following tales of Hunter Biden, Donald Trump, Kevin McCarthy, Elon Musk, Aaron Rodgers, etc. Once begun, the cycle goes on until it’s spun dry.
“The Load Out/Stay” with Jackson Browne is in the morning mental music stream (Trademark underwater). The Neurons put it in there as I talked to people’s mode to arrive here. Many drove nine to eleven hours to get here, accomplishing it over two days. Don’t like the airlines and the pain inflicted by travel — anxieties and irritations over flight connections, security, personal space, and the expensive ticket prices. I can understand that. Why, exactly, “The Load Out/Stay”? Because hearing them talking, I visualized loading up the car, just as I did when younger to go cross country, and what I still do for in-state vacations.
Stay pos, be cool, be strong. Coffee has been consumed; time to walk about, visit a part of Pittsburgh no longer familiar to me. Here’s the song. Cheers
‘Tis a quiet Thursday, July 6, 2023, in Ashlandia, where the children are out of school, and the parents are on vacation. It’s 74 F now, ten AM, under a hazy blue sky. We’re supposed to creep up to 90 F today, a change from the last several days, when we saw 97 F. Normal summer for us.
Today’s lower temp pleases me. We’re taking some friends to the OSF Green Show, where a local popular band, The Rogue Suspects, are performing. Featuring ‘The Girls’, three wonderful female singers they’ve added on over the years, 6:45 PM is when it starts. Probably have ice cream at one of the local establishments when it’s over. Should be a very comfortable temperature at that time.
My birthday was yesterday, and was a grand time. No party, per se, but I try to party every day, even if it’s only in my mind. Lots of messages from family, friends, and old co-workers via email, text direct messages, birthday cards delivered by the postman, FB posts, and phone calls. Sorry I didn’t get a telegram, too. I was told that I don’t look a week over 70, which pleased me, as I’m a sensational 67. Now the countdown begins until the next birthday.
Day like that deserves a song like “For A Rocker” by Jackson Browne out of 1983. As mentioned here before, I was at NCO Academy in Florida when the song was released. I immediately took to it and drove others crazy by frequently singing it. I apologized with the post script, “Don’t blame me, it’s The Neurons. They’re totally out of control.”
Stay positive and comfortable. Keep your head above the water and your mind fixed on your destination. A fresh brew of the life energy called coffee has arrived. I will be partaking.
Marvelous Monday marched in. It’s a sparkling day. White clouds reflect sunshine, making it all bolder and bigger than first glances assume. Sunrise at 5:34 heralded Jun 20, 2022, with a brassy flourish of blazing sunshine. Temps at the time were in the lowly forties but immediately perked up into the fifties, where they languish, drifting by degrees toward a high of 72 to 76 F. Sunset will close the show at 8:50 PM.
After some collaborating, the neurons drew up “Lives in the Balance”, a 1986 song by Jackson Browne. It’s quite the political song, bemoaning war and the suspected collusion between war profiteers and the warring nations, along with shade being thrown on the POTUS back then, Ronald Reagan, and how political campaigns are conducted like offerings for new consumer goods and services. Some sample lyrics for you.
They sell us the President the same way They sell us our clothes and our cars They sell us every thing from youth to religion The same time they sell us our wars I want to know who the men in the shadows are I want to hear somebody asking them why They can be counted on to tell us who our enemies are But they’re never the ones to fight or to die And there are lives in the balance There are people under fire There are children at the cannons And there is blood on the wire
Guess the neurons who follow the news thought the song made sense as theme music. Who am I to argue with his neurons?
Stay positive, you know? Test negative and have some faith that we’ll survive and rise again. I know that this is sometimes hard to embrace. Some imagination might be required.
Welcome to the Day of Frig, or Friday. Can you frig off on Friday? Does the expression ‘frig off’ owe anything to the Germanic Goddess, Frigg? Maybe she went about telling people that.
It’s March’s last day. Won’t be sorry to see the rear of March, 2022. Started out solid, but soured. For the record, the date is March 25, 2022.
Sunrise came in like it was half-asleep at 7:06 AM, although plenty of light was showing up much earlier than that. I always like that about this time of year, how the sun’s presence is announced in a false dawn almost an hour before. Sunset is due at 7:29 PM. It’s a chilly spring morning, 52 F, on our way to 67.
The heat didn’t come on this morning. It was chilly outside, yes, but we usually have heat. I checked and it was 66 in the house. The thermostat says ‘Heat On’, but I don’t hear any heating sounds issuing. I suspect that I’m to blame. I had to change the batteries in the thermostat yesterday — it’s a semi-smart one, with several different heating or cooling combos that that can be set for different periods of the day — and dropped it. Might have knocked some of its delicates askew. Either that, or it’s the stupid controller card again. The controller card has been replaced before, and this doesn’t exist the same symptoms. I’m better on the thermostat and will install and try a new one later today.
The morning mental music stream is aswirl with chaotic song fragments. I’m settling for a Jackson Browne song from his Lawyers in Love album of 1983. I believe I’ve used it before but I’m too lazy to look today. These lines hooked me as being the right theme music for today:
I know it’s late and you’re already down You ain’t ready for people around I’m gonna tell you something I found out Whatever you think your life is about Whatever life may hold in store Things will happen that you won’t be ready for
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as science dictates for the situation, and get the shots when needed. I’m almost ready to rock. Just need a little coffee first. Cheers
It’s a soft Thursday morning, here in Ashland, Oregon. Blue skies hug the low mountains of changing colors. Cool air — 48 F — hugs our bodies. We expect it to reach the upper seventies today. Looking forward to it.
It’s September 30, 2021. I go through the old rhyme, “Thirty days has September,” confirming, this is the final September day, turning to look at the calendar in confirmation. Yes, September’s last day. It’s hectic in some places: the quarter’s last day. The last day of FY2021 in some realms. Spend the money, get the orders, book ’em, Dano, because the books are going to close. Such an artificial construct, but a critical element of book-keeping, accounting, sales, taxes, and profits and losses.
Sunrise was later yet, an effect felt in the house. Sunrise didn’t arrive until 7:07 AM. Lights were required for activities in different rooms, a dispiriting acknowledgement that the hours of daylight are drawing down. It’s my preference to get up to bright morning sun, like the sun we get in the summer mornings. But I like the fall’s ambiance and temperatures. Its occasional rain. It’s a friendlier season than summer, who can become quite brutal. Sunset will be at 6:54 PM. Too early for my taste, but wait: it’ll be earlier yet tomorrow, and so on, until we ‘fall back’ with our clocks. That takes place November 7 in the U.S. this year.
Today’s theme song arose from reading. I read a NY Times article yesterday evening ‘When the Times Book Review Panned the Classics’. What other doesn’t like reading how critics trashed great books and novelists? One of the books trashed was Tender is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald. That’s also the title of a 1983 Jackson Browne song from an album I enjoyed, Lawyers in Love. My ever waiting mental music stream jumped onto the connection and played it in my head. I thought I’d played it for you.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and vax, if your body can handle it. Some people’s underlying conditions won’t react well to the COVID-19 vaccine. Do it if you can.
I often wish that I was more ignorant of the world, that I lacked the capacity to see the big picture, understand the science, recall history, and remember the lies.
Not a genius nor overly bright or educated, I recall matters and critically examine almost everything that crosses my mind and my eyes. Doesn’t help that I’m married to a similar person; we feed off one another. Nor does it help that throughout my military and civilian positions and work, others saw these traits in me and honed them. I become overly critical and analytical; any skill that becomes too dominant can be a liability.
I’d like to live in a ‘just-pretend’ world where things are better, which is probably why I write. I’m attracted to writing detective stories where the main character is deeply flawed and struggles with seeing the good in others over his insights into the wrongs that they do, no matter how small the wrongs. Always on the top of that list is his own wrongs.
Likewise, dystopian fiction, where governments, corporations, religions, and individuals have misled others so they can advance themselves or keep themselves in power, always attracts me. It’s a dark world for my characters.
No surprise, then, my thoughts on the novel coronavirus pandemic of 2020 is that civilizations are poor learning organizations, not infrequently out of step with one another. It’s a messy dance floor where different music is heard by almost everyone. It’s the nature of trying to meld political weld out of individual agendas. We advance by degrees. I always think we could advance more quickly. Yet, too, disagreement and debate are required and healthy for relationships, including governments, societies, and civilizations. It’s when facts become distorted that it gets unhealthy.
Into this mess of morning thinking, prompted by a restless night of writing in my head and chasing dreams, is Jackson Brown’s first hit, “Doctor, My Eyes”, from 1972. His lyrics about seeing too much, looking too long, and how it has influenced his life view, has always been a favorite.
Michael Seidel, writer 