Tag: Japan

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Thunderstorms are on the way today, Wenzda, July 30, 2025. Worry has cranked up throughout the region. Thunderstorms equal lightning, wildfires, and smoke. Fingers crossed, knock on wood, etc., that we’re spared.

Meanwhile, it’s a blue sky lovely day. 74 now, heading toward 90 F. Texting with my sister in PA. She tells me it’s humid and close to 100 F there today. Everyone working outside are guarding against heatstroke. One of her husband’s co-workers was hospitalized for dizziness and high blood pressure.

Tsunami warning were given for Pacific coasts last night after a massive earthquake was detected off the coast of the Kamchatka Peninsula. My friends and I were familiar with that territory from playing Risk, but then there was a spy plane incident which cemented it in my memories. Fortunately, back to the tsunami warnings, little damage has been reported so far. Tsunamis called to mind the disastrous ones which hit Japan and destroyed a nuclear power plant in Marh of 2011, and the Christmas tsunami which nailed Thailand, Indonesia, and that region of Asia, killing hundreds of thousands of people. Nature’s power is stunning. Of course, in an aside, that’s why the United States and other nations worked together to create monitor and warning systems. That required international trust and cooperation, and the Trump Regime is actively undermining such work, unilaterally withdrawing the U.S. from alliances and agreements, and cutting funding, either directly, or through the termination of grants to universities and organizations.

Today’s music is a dream gift. “Who Invited You” is by The Donnas. I’m familiar with the group mostly because a friend listened to them. I lived in the Bay area in the 1990s and worked in Palo Alto, where The Donnas originated. My friend, a co-worker, burned CDs for me of several groups she liked, including the Squirrel Nut Zippers, Violent Femmes, and The Donnas. The dream part had me awakening from a dream just after I’d opened a door and someone asked me, “Who invited you in?” That dream moment, which I call a ‘dreament’, snapped back to me when I intercepted a spider coming in the front door after I opened to receive some cooling morning air. Asking it, “Who invited you in?”, the dream moment swiveled into focus and The Neurons hastened The Donnas into the morning mental music stream.

Hope all you jazz cats have a hip day. This coffee cat is downing his caffeine juice. Then into cutting grass and trimming bushes before the heat bellows in. Cheers

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Saturda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

We have a new version of The China Syndrome happening, right here in the U.S. of A.

The original idea behind the China syndrome is a nuclear reactor meltdown that causes the nuclear plant to figuratively melt through its containment building, and keep going until it goes through the earth and emerges in China on the other side of the world. In other words, it’s a baaaddd disaster. A movie starring Jane Fonda, Jack Lemon, and Michael Douglas was made about it. Released in 1979, it’s called The China Syndrome.

That’s not quite what we’re talking now. Instead, we’re talking the nuclear family and some wrong-headed ideas about population growth. One of these wrong-headed ideas that China had was that they could control and direct their nation’s population growth by laws. See, their population was growing too much and too fast. Pursuing efforts to stop it, China’s government implemented ‘The One-Child Policy’. it was wickedly wrong in many ways, including what happened to female children because families wanted a male as their one child. Males were more highly prized than females in that society.

Now China faces a problem caused by an aging society. Oh, gosh, how did that happen? Could limiting child births have anything to do with that? Why, yes, of course.

And so we saw another edition of ‘unintended consequences’ demonstrated to us. You’d think that would make others think about trying such efforts.

But not everyone is willing to think and learn from the mistake of others. That’s the new China Syndrome.

All this comes to mind because of a new memo from the new Trump administration. New DOT Memo Directs Funds To Communities With Higher ‘Marriage And Birth Rates’.

WASHINGTON ― The federal Department of Transportation has issued a memo ordering programs supported by the agency to prioritize funding projects for communities with “marriage and birth rates higher than the national average.”

The article later notes:

Newly confirmed Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy buried his agency’s oddly specific requirement by describing the memo as focused on economic growth ― rather than population growth ― and echoed Trump’s criticisms of programs to improve diversity, equity and inclusion.

“The American people deserve an efficient, safe and pro-growth transportation system based on sound decision-making, not political ideologies,” Duffy said of the memo.

Ha,ha,ha, see what old Sean Duffy did there? He’s using ideology to make decisions and pretending otherwise. And he’s apparently doing it without any irony or self-awareness that he’s doing it.

Cause, gosh, the declining population growth in the U.S. probably doesn’t have anything to do with stagnant wages and misplaced priorities, such as pretending climate change doesn’t exist even as droughts, wildfire, and extreme weather events wipe out crops and housing, causing increased housing and food costs. Yes, and the low population growth probably has nothing to do with the healthcare insurance industry and their record profits and the high price of having a child. Nor does the low population growth have anything to do with the need to have both parents work because wages suck and the cost of everything is so high.

But no, let’s pretend that those things don’t matter. Have a child, get a road! There we go, that’ll increase the population. Makes total fucking sense. At least, in Trumpworld.

Sounds like more FAFO will be forthcoming.

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sunumny

It’s Sunday, September 22, 2024. First day of autumn, aka fall, in the northern latitudes. Sumumn is still visiting Ashlandia. Chilly last night at 52 F at our place, the high will pop into the low 80s F today. A relatively windless day, sunshine baths a blue sky where lonely moon offers a pale version of its waning self high in the western sky.

Haven’t read any news this morning. Was just involved with other matters and felt no great urge to jump into war, disasters, politics, tragedy, or weather. I instead read more of my library book, Slough House, by Mick Herron. Entertaining and distracting, it’s just what I required with my Sunday morning cuppa coffee.

Although I’ve been reading about bots and AI off and on recently, a cat inspired today’s song. Messing around with Papi, the ginger blade, so named because of his slender shape, brought the song up. Papi is well established in his ways. After eating, he washes up and then comes for some skrive, which is flooflish for sritch-love. He only stays about eight minutes and then abruptly whirls and leaves. As he departed today, I told him, “Domo arigatō,” after he left the session, continuing, “I appreciate the visit. Come again.”

Click, The Neurons recalled “Mr. Roboto” by Styx and began playing it in the morning mental music stream (Trademark rusty). The song, which seems like it’s about a man who is a robot, came out in 1983. I was stationed on Okinawa, Japan in 1983. As with many Americans stationed over there in the military, domo arigatō was one of several common Japanese expressions we’d learned as part of that experience. So that song was instantly and hugely popular with a segment of the personnel. Later, I had a young friend when were stationed in Germany who loved this song. He’d played the drums and keyboards, sing the lyrics, and act as a robot during parts of it. Yes, a crazy, memorable dude.

Enjoy your day, stay strong, be positive, and vote blue in 2024. Here’s the music, and awaaayyy we go. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: Saturitis

Saturday, April 13, 2024, has emerged through timid sunshine and mild, sporadic showers. 51 F degrees now, the thermometer’s advance will end somewhere around 60 F. That’s life in April.

The cats and I were spoiled by that burst of warm sunshine, though. We want it, we cry. Papi the ginger warrior is particularly vocal about it. “Screw this wet stuff,” he cries. “Give me the shine.”

Tucker has magnificently recovered from his surgery. While still an old boy, north of 14 years old, we believe, his personality has re-asserted itself after bearing pain for several years. I’m sorry I didn’t help him sooner but I was really leery about having all of his teeth removed.

I’m feeling Saturitis today. It’s a blend of it being Saturday and the need/desire to get some work done that is also conflicting with the idea that it’s Saturday, let’s do something fun! Undermining the Saturitis mood is the weather, which doesn’t seem overly conducive to either end of the Saturitis spectrum.

Mom seems to be doing better. Hospitalized, enduring pain and discomfort, going through physical therapy. She said she’s there for another ten to fourteen days. Also said she’s doing alright. “The food is terrific.” That’s always welcomed. She had meatloaf with peas for lunch with banana cream pie for dessert.

An odd song was summoned to the morning mental music stream (Trademark showing) today. The Neurons somehow pulled up “Enola Gay” by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark (OMD).

This song was released in 1980. It’s about the Enola Gay, the American B29 Superfortress which dropped the atomic bomb, called ‘Little Boy’, on Hiroshima, Japan, in August, 1945.

I didn’t learn about the song until I was helping my wife with a Hiroshima/Nagasaki vigil she was setting up in conjunction with WILPF – Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom – around 2006. She asked to help brainstorm some music. I came across the anti-war song, “Enola Gay”. The techno-pop tune was rejected as too silly and lost to the standard American anti-war and pro-peace pop/rock offerings.

I don’t have good insights into why The Neurons brought “Enola Gay” forward today. Maybe they just confused April with August. Hard to say with them.

Okay, stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue. Coffee has found its way into my body. Here’s the music. Please give it a chance. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Chillworn

They call it chilly Friday but Saturday’s just the same.

Yes, Ashlandia’s warm weather spurt has ben curtailed. Today’s high will crest at 64 F. More importantly, clouds have set up a formidable sunshine blockade. Rain is expected in a hour. Not heavy; just April showers. It’s 49 F right now. The cats have declared themselves to be indoor floofs.

Mom is still in the hospital, dealing with PT and mobility issues, in significant back pain. Sis says it poured rain there in Pittsburgh, PA, causing some minor local flooding. That caused Mom’s boyfriend, F, to bow out of showing up. He’s 94 and driving in those conditions are no longer in his catalogue. But sis says that’s all cleared up, so now he’s going to visit Mom this afternoon.

Reflecting what’s going on with Mom, I count back the number of other people who went through similiar issues with a parent and their end of life health issues. This seems to be growing into the common end of life way of life.

Three songs are warring in the morning mental music stream (Trademark fizzling). First came the Beatles with their 1968 song, “Lady Madonna”. I applied to The Neurons for the reasoning behind selecting that for the morning mental music stream. Their answer was, “We’ll get back to you.” My neurons are bureaucrats.

Next came Small Faces with “Itchycoo Park” from 1967. This was again done without any input on my end that I can see. The Neurons stonewalled me when I asked for more information about why this song was playing in my head.

Finally, or the latest, was Peter Gabriel with “Sledgehammer” from 1986. This, at least, has more personal history. We’re returned from Okinawa, Japan, after a four year tour that year.

Two cats, Crystal and Jade, accompanied us. They became our floofs after other military families receive orders for new assignments and couldn’t afford to take their cats with them. Both passed away in California, Crystal from cancer in 1994, and Jade, years later, when she was 21. Both were wonderful sweethearts.

Coming back that year felt like a major shock. Bell Telephone had gone through its breakup. Now mini-Bells abounded. We’d been driving on the left side of the road, so we needed to switch back over. The fastest speed limit we’d encountered was 100 KPH (61 MPH) and now we were hurtling around much faster. Yeah, a few days of adjustment was needed as we moved into a new one-bedroom apartment in South Carolina.

Hope you have a respectable Friday. Be strong, stay positive, and Vote Blue this November. Here comes Peter, previously of Genesis, with his solo tune, “Sledgehammer”. Coffee is flowing. Here we go.

Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: writxiety

While it’s Thursday, February 22, 2024, the weather has twisted toward spring here in Ashlandia in southern Oregon. Winds be blowing with a wintry taste but sunshine blinds the eyes and blue sky mixes it up with piecemeal white and gray clouds. None of the clouds are large but they can be something if they unite and stay together.

It’s 54 F now after mid 30s as our overnight lows, and will tweak a few more degrees north of the current temp. The cats are not happy with the situation. “It’s the wind,” they complain. “Too much damn wind for our whiskers.”

The house painting is done and the bill is paid. $7650. Looks fab, though, and we’re happy with it, so I guess it’s worth it.

The Neurons have infiltrated the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) with some Rush flavored prog rock, aka progressive rock or prock. Today’s song is “New World Man” from 1982. I can’t find the roots of its presence in the MMMS, only that sometime while I was in the kitchen after feeding the floof boys, that song was in my head as I prepped my brekkie. It’s a song I know from a military co-worker on Okinawa. Rush music was a big staple of his listening hoard. He considered them severely underrated and unappreciated.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote. That’s all we ask of you; is that so much? I hope not. Coffee has been served and sampled. Here we go, into the winds of a new day. And here’s the music. Cheers

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The Big Board

I checked the coronavirus big board this morning. I used to check sports or the stock market. The former is on pause and the latter is a shitstorm that I’m avoiding until the age of coro is done.

The U.S. had reached number five last night, but Iran overtook them overnight. China’s flattened growth continues to give us hope.

South Korea provides more hope, though. They took swift action and held strong after a terrible start. Meanwhile, Japan has it together.

And Russia? Their numbers astonish.

Russia

Italy’s numbers are painful (and shocking and dismaying) to view, with reports of almost eight hundred more dead overnight. I feel them.

Italy

After that, I get more granular with the U.S, looking at the state and county shots. A friend put this one together.

The red continues taking over; no state is spared. West Virginia (who has a very vulnerable population) was last to report on a case. After reading about someone who sought testing (a grim comedy), I suspect that it existed there, but incompetence (or politics) (or fear) kept the numbers from showing up.

Here’s an excerpt of the grim comedy that Carolyn Vigil endured in WV to get her husband tested.

We went to the ER, and I left James in the car. He was really sick: his fever had been as high as 104°F; he had a cough, terrible headaches, body aches. He has asthma, which can lead to more serious disease. I had no symptoms at that point, but I was trying to keep my distance from people at the hospital, because I thought I could be a carrier. A staff member met me at the door. She was very kind, but she said, ‘I don’t think we’re equipped to do this.’ A nurse came out to the car with a sticky note and the number for a hotline—which I had already tried to call, only to find that the number didn’t work—and told me I had to leave and just call that number, or drive to Morgantown, two and a half hours away. I told her, ‘I’m going to remain calm, but I’m not leaving unless he is at least screened.’ The head nurse came out and saw James, and she could tell he was sick. James and I waited in the car until they took him to a room where they could do the exam without risking others in the hospital. Once he got back there, they were very compassionate. They gave him very good care.

They first tried to rule out all other respiratory illnesses. Those tests came back negative, so they decided to go ahead and do the COVID-19 test. But we had to wait until Tuesday to get the result back. Then Tuesday came and nobody contacted us. We called the ER. The ER told us to call the state health lab. The state health lab told James to call the county health department. The county health department said, ‘We have no record of you ever being tested.’ It was bizarre.

h/t to Time.com Check the whole story. Interesting read.

Beyond it all, we’re still waiting for large pieces of information regarding duration, or an unpleasant second wind from COVID-19, waiting to see if social distancing will successfully flatten the curve and buy us time for a vaccine and more resources. Meanwhile, practice safe living out there.

Cheers

 

 

 

 

 

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A Dream of Changing Countries

It was an uplifting experience, although strange. 

I was with several groups of men. We’d decided we were changing countries. I connected with a few others to hunt for country candidates. An adviser was telling us what our options were.

My first choice was Japan. I headed to the JP room with a few other men and our adviser. We entered, and then our adviser had us wait while he checked on availability. Coming back, he told us, “Sorry, but there aren’t any openings.”

A little disappointed but still optimistic, we selected another place. I knew the name in the dream but I don’t know it now. Our adviser checked and confirmed, “Yes, eight openings are available.”

Only three of us went, however, with the others backing out. We had to answer questions to be accepted in the new country, and also to put on a shirt with cultural significance to that country.

After putting the shirts on, we entered an office. Bleachers filled with people were to one side. Most of the people were young women. The first man of my group went to a desk. There he was asked eight questions. He passed.

It was my turn. I went to the desk and was asked the eight questions. They were so simple and basic, such as, “What is your name? What is your favorite color?” The process amused me as I wondered, are there wrong answers? I passed and then waited for my friend to go through the process. Then the three of us were sworn in as new citizens and congratulated. A spattering of applause followed.

Now citizens of another country, we walked toward the exit. I remembered that I still had the other shirt on. Wanting my own shirt, I took the shirt off, gave it to someone, and then walked back, shirtless, looking for my own shirt, with everyone watching me. I found this quite funny. The dream ended with me finding my shirt, but leaving it off, I left.

To me, the choice of Japan was interesting. When I lived in Japan, it was a successful and enjoyable time, and I was very happy. That it wasn’t available meant, you can’t go back, but there are other choices. These will give me new experiences (changing the shirt, see?), but they’ll be like Japan, successful and enjoyable.

And it’s my choice.

 

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Today’s Theme Music

This little pop song comes to you from me hearing it on the radio yesterday. (I was switching through channels, trying to escape Christmas music.) The song wasn’t — and isn’t — my cuppa music, but I know it well because it seems like we were saturated with it when it came out back in 1984. I was stationed in Japan then, and it was being played often on the radio. Besides that, it was catchy, with easily heard, understood, and learned lyrics. People seemed to delight in making jokes out of the title, “Wake Me Up Before You Go Go”. I returned to America at the end of ’84, and discovered the saturation was worse in America.

Here’s Wham! Sorry to do this to you, but I need to get it out of my head. Nothin’ wrong with it, mind you, just not my cuppa.

 

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For Today’s Dreams

I need to think about and research these items from last night’s dreams:

  • Eating ham, and wrapping ham to take with me
  • Q-tips
  • Attending a rock concert in Japan
  • And the words, “Trey Chico,” which made a lot of sense to me in the dream

The name of the concert was “Trey Chico.” Three boys, I wondered several times during my dream.

It was an interesting concert venue. The stage was on one end in a field, about a mile from a field for parking cars. Between the parking and stage were long, open rows between rows of small apartments. Japanese people set up blankets in the open rows, and waited for the concert in the apartments.

We arrived early, in late afternoon for the concert. My wife was with me. We were in the cheap section. Meeting others, I ate some ham. I never saw any of the concert. I left right before they were supposed to play “The Star-Spangled Banner”. My wife stayed at the concert when I left. I wrapped ham in paper to take with me before I left, and made sure I took my laptop computer with me.

It was dark, but with lighting when I left. Fences blocked some sections. Others were attempting to leave, as well. I knew that the fences were there, but didn’t know how to get around them. A Japanese man came up and told us how to do it.

Walking through the open rows to get to parking, I was warned several times not to step on the Japanese, or their blankets. I cut back and forth, sometimes running, to go the mile to the field, and sometimes entered and left one of the small apartments. I thought they were clever, and that the concert arrangement was clever.

I ran into my wife in one of the apartments. She was with friends. They’d gone to a nearby shop, and then toured this apartment. Showing me Q-tips, she said, “They have the right Q-tip holders. We saw them. Where did we see them?” I knew, but I didn’t answer her.

Reaching the parking field, I oriented myself. After counting the rows, I turned and walked down one row to my car.

The dream ended.

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