Thirstda’s Theme Music

Sunshine and warm air is spilling throug Ashlandia once again. 61 F now, Thirstda, May 8, 2025, will overtake the gorgeous day known as May 7, 2025. 80 F will be bestowed on us. Sure, it’ll be windy, that but’s okay.

The cat is happy, if I’m judging his tail right. Standing upright, like a sundial gnomon, we could use it to tell the time but he won’t stand still long enough. After eating, visiting, and grooming, he resumed his back fence residency.

Being out back depressed me. Wasn’t the sunshine. No. That’s fine and welcomed. It’s the lack of bees and butterflies. No humming birds, either. Also missing were the regular Jay visitors. All have desserted us. I hope they come back soon.

We discussed politics last night at the beery thingy. Like, re-opening Alcatraz. Such a gennyus move…not. Only a simpleton would think it is. Right now, simpletons are running the nation.

I’m late to posting this because of computer issues. I suspect it’s update stuff but basically, I’ll be busy doing stuff and thump, the computer gets

Four songs hover in the extended morning mental music stream. A common theme threads through them: small towns.

From 1975: “My Little Town”, Simon & Garfunkel. “Billboard described the song as “a good, nostalgic Americana style song that builds throughout.”[4] Cash Box said it has “catchy piano beneath historic harmony growing into a brass hook ending” and that “you’ll remember the melody by the third time you hear it.”

From 1985: “My Hometown” by Bruce Springsteen. This was a sad reflection on the demise of small towns in the United States, the end of mills, the end of jobs, stores closed up and boarded up. Reflected in the lyrics are the tensions experienced in the 1960s over segregation and integration and the violence which resulted.

1985 also brought us, “Small Town” by John Mellencamp. “”I wanted to write a song that said, ‘You don’t have to live in New York or Los Angeles to live a full life or enjoy your life.’ I was never one of those guys that grew up and thought, ‘I need to get out of here.’ It never dawned on me. I just valued having a family and staying close to friends.” h/t to Wikipedia.org

Then, from 2023, “Try That In A Small Town,” performed by Jason Aldean and written by a committee. In a review of Highway Desperado for Allmusic, Stephen Thomas Erlewine stated “All its success was based on how the single and video deliberately pushed cultural buttons; strip those away, and ‘Try That in a Small Town’ is just another in a long line of crawling, glowering, arena-country from Aldean.”

Chris Willman of Variety called it “the most contemptible country song of the decade [and] the video is worse”, saying that the song “is close to being the most cynical song ever written about the implicit moral superiority of having a limited number of neighbors” and is “a list of hellishly dystopian tropes about city evils that seems half-borrowed from Hank Williams Jr.‘s ‘A Country Boy Can Survive‘, half-borrowed from the Book of Revelation“. He said that the video “conflates the act of protesting with violent crime”.[7] Marcus K. Dowling of The Tennessean wrote that “online critics highlighted the following song lyrics as emblematic of songs heightening pro-gun violence and lynching sentiments upon many in his rural, small-town fanbase”.

Tennessee state representative Justin Jones tweeted “As Tennessee lawmakers, we have an obligation to condemn Jason Aldean’s heinous song calling for racist violence … What a shameful vision of gun extremism and vigilantism.”[24] He explicitly referred to the song as a “heinous vile racist song” which attempts to normalize “racist, violence, vigilantism and white nationalism” in a later interview on CNN.

Kevin M. Kruse, professor of history at Princeton University specializing in 20th-century America, called out the song for “calling for people who aren’t law enforcement to mete out violence against people who haven’t broken any laws,” a callout to “law and order” that is “actually lawlessnness.” h/t to wikipedia.org

For me, the subject of small towns arose as my adopted small town copes with growth and development, rising costs and diminishing prospects. We’re wrestling with the need to change but can’t agree on how to change. As with many small towns, few want to abandon ‘what worked before’. That leaves us stymied about what to do and how to do it. As exhibited in “Try That In A Small Town”, the professed preference is to gut the other side.

I’m aware I do that a lot about the MAGAs myself. We don’t see eye to eye. We lack agreement about what are facts and history, and cause and effect. The polarization depicted in the last of these four songs is becoming the norm. Part of the background noise is about gun violence. As part of the left, I’m tired of hearing about thoughts and prayers and the need to arm teachers and increase security at schools, fairs, airports, malls, and other places whenever another mass shooting takes place. Put forward is this video is the threat to escalate violence.

How do we bridge these gaps?

It’s interesting, to, that the right wing is pushing to return to the values of previous years. To what year do they want to return? To the 1960s, when civil unrest and protests swept the nation and the small towns’ death rattles began? To further back, like the 1950s, when the United States entered into trade and defense agreements and taxes were high on the wealthy? Or earlier, when lynchings of Blacks were not uncommon, women lacked rights, and deaths from back street abortions were high, and the young died from measles and other diseases.

Let’s pause, perhaps, and remember how those big box stores, like Amazon, Walmart, Lowe’s, Home Depot, grand supporters of Trump and the GOTP, drove a spike through many small town businesses. Yes, and Starbucks and Costco, too.

The day is ending. Hope it was a good one for you. It was pretty good for me. Let’s do it again tomorrow. Cheers

Thirstda’s Theme Music

Bold sunshine lured my eyes open. It’s summer, this hoople head’s addled neurons suggested.

It’s not summer. This is Thirstda, March 20, 2025. We’re stepping into spring’s threshold. I went onto the back patio with Papi the ginger blade, aka Butter Butt. The Butt did a little springish frolocking. “I agree,” I said. “It feels like a cold spring morning.” Daffs have pushed their yellow heads out. It’s 37 F but feels like 51 F, and is expected to climb to 45 plus F. Clouds have already hustled in, least we get too optimistic about the blue sky and sunshine. The weather ‘they’ couch their forecast with rain warnings. Not bad for Ashlandia’s first day of spring in 2025.

The addled Neurons have snuck a 2014 John Mellencamp song into the morning mental music stream. It’s a bit cynical. “Lawless Times” rails against the lack of trust that had begun emerging twenty years ago, the latest in many cycles of distrust – the trust in banks, business, goverment, trust in ourselves and one another, were all going down in flames, and here we are. It takes a certain amount of vetting to reach a point where you trust someone. Even though, you keep an eye on them. They might Schumer you.

The song started because I was in a Walmart the day before yesterday. My wife was looking for a kitchen item. Walmart was supposed to have it. I don’t think I’ve been in a Walmart in over a year. It’s not one of my regular shopping stops. Talk about a police state. Cameras everywhere. Signs at the end of every aisle reminding you that cameras are watching. And so many items were physically locked behind glass doors or in cages. Like all camping gear. Cosmetics. Vacuum cleaners. Is this the common American experience now? And that’s when “Lawless Times” first fired up. Walmart sure as hell doesn’t trust its customers. Of course, I do not trust PINO Trusk and his regime. I don’t trust the Roberts Court. I don’t trust the GOTP. I especially don’t trust Elon Reeve Musk, Jeff Bezos, and Mark Zuckerberg. I sure as hell don’t trust JD Vance and Tommy Tuberville, MTG and Lauren Boebert.

Well, I don’t trust myself
I don’t trust you
Don’t get too sick
It’ll be the end of you
Don’t expect a helping hand
If you fall down
And if you want to steal this song
It can be easily loaded down
My, my, my
These are lawless times
My, my, my
These are lawless times
So you might ask yourself
Hey, what can I do?
I can’t trust the future
What’s been promised to you
Learn the rules hard and fast
Take care of yourself
And keep your eyes open
On everybody else

h/t Genius.com

Too much truth in that song but it has a catchy rhythm. You might end up, as I do, singing it to yourself as you go through your day.

I’ve invited coffee in again and it’s lit a small flame under The Neurons. Hope you day starts with promise and ends with satisfaction. Let’s rock it. Cheers

Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: Mondtumn

It’s a wonderful fall day, aka autumn, in Ashlandia this Monday morning. 14th of October, 2024. We’re approaching the month’s midpoint, don’tcha know. Skies as blue as Paul Newman’s eyes. Unabated sunshine splash off autumn’s colors. 71 degrees F outside now, with a few more degrees yet to be gained today before the sundown show begins.

I was out last night — early Monday morning, actually, but you know how our language is when you’re addressing a time that’s a half past midnight; it’s night but it’s morning — checking the sky for northern lights, asteroids, and meteors. Saw none of that. Was accosted by a spaceship. I believe they were aliens but could’ve been Trump supporters, as they were very weird. Anyway, the waxing moon was well short of full but the light it dished out into the night was impressive on its own. Lovely cool air felt me up and a serene silence serenaded me. Love nights like that. They lend a sense of calm optimism to me. With that moon, I could’ve called this Moonday.

Looks like the MAGA belligerence and lies toward FEMA in Hurricane Helene’s aftermess came home to roost. Funny, how when someone took a shot at Trump in PA, the GOP was all about softening the tone. Yet, now that a man was arrested for threatening FEMA in North Carolina amid stories that armed militia are threatening FEMA, the folks that were shushing the Democrats for their attitude and verbiage are letting the crickets sing in the silence. It is notable that many GOP leaders on the ground in North Carolina are pointing out that Trump is lying when he says that FEMA isn’t there helping. Sadly, mainstream media covers that news, and Trump’s MAGAts treat such media as fake news.

Got a ditty about “Jack & Diane” from 1982 in the morning mental music stream (Trademark flooding). Heard the John Mellencamp song on the radio as I aided my wife in her Food & Friends deliveries. This is our county’s version of Meals on Wheels. When I heard J&D, sitting in the car as my wife headed off to door knock, shout out “Food and friends,” and wait for the door to be answered so she could hand over the food items, I started listening to all the instruments employed. The song features an unusual, fragmented musical structure. Different instruments are employed to suggest moods in a way not usually employed in rock music. I think I even heard a recorder or a flute toward the song’s end among the pianos, guitars, drums, and clapping.

It also stayed in my head because I modified the words after I returned home and sang, “Little ditty about Tucker and Papi, two house floofs doing best they can.” BTW, that’s Tucker, pronounced Tuck-ah. The song actually lends itself well to singing about the cats. Example: “Papi sits back, scratches his neck for the moment, washes his paw, and does his best lion king.”

Last note, I want to reiterate that Donald J. Trump is unworthy of holding office. Latest reason for me to make this declaration is his falsehoods, which are known as lies in many places, about Kamala Harris and her cognitive abilities. He likes reflecting back. Whenever he shows signs of something, he immediately uses that issue as a cudgel to bludgeon voters into confusion. Clearly, when listening to Trump and Vice President Harris, it is Trump and his windy, meandering, fraying, old ‘weave’ — and I’m not referencing that abomination on his head — is the cognitively impaired individual seeking our nation’s highest office.

Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue in 2024. We will need all of these things if we’re going to subdue the Orange Menace and his anti-Democracy hordes.

Coffee and I have furthered our fling.

Here’s the music. See if you hear that woodwind somewhere around the 3:17 mark. Cheers

Tuesday’s Theme Tumblings

Tuesday’s Ashlandia by the numbers. 041123, 41/55 F, 6:34/7:48. Rain showers took the night. More rain visitations are anticipated for today.

It’s smelling and feeling like spring outside. Temperatures pushed up to a glorious 74 degrees F. Foamy white clouds ring the blue bowl over Ashlandia. Snow still stands on patches of the surrounding mountains but a green world and blue sky dominate.

I complained to friends about my weather forecast irritation. One responded with a story out of The Atlantic about how/why apps fail to provide satisfying and consistently accurate forecasts. Embedded in the tale was a site called forecastadvisor.com. This site tells what apps and sources are most and least accurate in their forecasts by percentage of days. Good data to gobble.

John Mellencamp was selected by The Neurons for residency in today’s morning mental music stream. Song is “The Real Life”. 1987. Went to a concert for that album, Lonesome Jubilee. Germany. Song came up from the mental vaults due to reflections on what is meant by living a real life? Seems like a definite spectrum to that answer, which changes by age, experiences, and circumstances. I feel like I’ve found my real life spending time in isolation, writing, editing, posting, corresponding. Others would disagree, chiding me for ‘not doing anything, not going anywhere, not being social’. I can debate with them whether that is ‘the real life’. Farmers might tell you the real life is all about growing things. Parents might say it’s about raising children who become adults and raise more children who become adults ad infinitum. I’ve heard others state that living the real life means helping others.

Here’s the song. Stay pos and live the real life, whatever you decide that is for you for now. My real life definitely involves coffee so I’m off to the kitchen. Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

The sky looks like a gray warship going by. “Sun?” the valley asks. “What is this sun you speak of?”

Today is Sunday, April 10, 2022, but winter is on the stage for an encore, bringing snow to the upper levels — three thousand feet — and rain down in the valley, a perfect complement to the cold air. It’s 39 F now. We expect 50 but I don’t know… The cats are doubtful, curling up in warm spaces and already asleep, their day plan already being executed. We humans take snow and rain here in southern Oregon. Give us something to refill the water tables in all its phases and elements, and water the food chain.

The sun’s moment came at 6:39 AM but she balked over showing off her blaze. She leaves our stage at 7:47 this evening.

Another night of brisk dreams had my neurons singing several songs. Finally, while in the bathroom shaving and thinking about my reflection, they began singing bits of a song about being older, so much older. Took a minute or two to realize the neurons were having fun with me, playing the opening lines to John Mellencamp’s “Hurt So Good”. The neurons were sobered some when I pointed out that the song came out when I was living on Okinawa, which would put it forty years ago. They were like, “Wow, we were only twenty-six then. Where does the time go?” “Indeed, my little neurons,” I replied, “indeed.”

Gotta admit, this seems like a strange music video. Never saw it before. Was reluctant to post it after watching it. But I did, though I grimaced.

Stay positive, test negative…you know the routine by now. If you don’t, then I think you might be a lost cause. Coffee is coming up and I am out of here. Cheers

Tuesday’s Theme Music

The sun strode into Tuesday at 6:47 AM with bright, bold steps that dazzled our retinas. Warmth is still trickling in, as we’re at 37 F right now, but hope to strike the fifties. A snowstorm hit the higher elevations during the last several days. You had to be at 5,000 feet to feel it, so we’re a few thousand feet too low. We hope it’ll add to the miserly snowpack, but dire predictions have already emerged for this year. Many meteorologists suggest it would take years of big storms to end the drought and replenish our lakes and cisterns.

The cost of water is skyrocketing. Looks like the city golf course can no longer afford water. Of larger concerns are the many small farms that dot our valley and provide us with local produce. The city and area are on top of this, building many more low-income units. These typically start in the 300K range and climb. Nothing stops the wealthy from buying them and renting them out, though. Some shout, “Low -income housing is what we need, look at the homeless here.” Don’t know where they think the homeless are going to acquire the money for a mortgage. Others say, we don’t need more housing, we don’t have the water. But the houses keep going up.

Today is April the fifth, 2022, a day pretty similar to many others. Sunset will be at 7:41 PM.

The neurons have been busy streaming several different songs in the morning mental music stream. They also added an old jingle: “To get right to the heart of the matter, where there’s smoke, where there’s smoke, where there’s smoke. Where there’s smoke, there’s danger of heart and lung disease.” I don’t know why the little monkeys played that for me.

Anyway, eventually they unearthed John Mellencamp’s 1983 song, “Little Pink Houses”, a song more in accordance with what was actually passing for thought in my head.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask if you need to, get the vax as, when, if needed, etc. Stay informed and think critically. Here’s the music. I’m going to go caffeinate some neurons. See if that settles them down a little. Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

5:43 AM. 8:33 PM. That defines the daylight hours for this Sunday, May 23, 2021 in the valley. Nine hundred and fifty minutes. Ten minutes from a full one thousand minutes of daylight hours, excluding the residuals that are noted before sunrise and after sunset.

We’re warming up again. Nothing too hot today, probably the low seventies, but rain is projected to visit again during the week’s early days. Again, no complaints; rain welcome here. It’s needed.

We’ve been talking about moving. Western Pennsylvania, eastern Ohio, where we have family. Droughts and wildfires have wearied us. We like small towns, though. Coffee shops, bakeries, and book stores are big drawing points. But which? That’s the challenge. We’ll probably need to move into the general area, rent a place, and explore. We’ve moved enough times after twenty years in the military. Another four moves were seen in the twenty après military years. That all leads me to John Mellencamp’s 1985 song, “Small Town”. It’s good enough for me for Sunday’s theme music.

Stay positive, test negative, stay up with the masks, and get the vax. Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

Sorry, but it’s sort of a quasi-politically inspired song again. (Wow, such a wishy-washy caveat and apology.) There’s also a writing angle.

Thinking about not just Trump but about life in general summoned John Mellencamp’s 1987 song, “Paper in Fire” to mind. I was thinking about aspirations and permanency and how often what people do amount to nothing or disappear like…well, like paper in fire.

And the days of vanity
Went on forever
And he saw his days burn up
Like paper in fire

Trump comes into this because of the vanity angle. He couldn’t govern and lead by getting legislation probably passed and put into place as law. Part of this was that he didn’t want to share glory. He wanted to be the one who was seen to originate the idea, to demonstrate his smarts. As he couldn’t, he instead used executive orders or chose not to enforce laws. Many of the executive orders meant almost nothing except to signal his desire, but others of them actively circumvented due process.

Much of what Trump seemed to be to appeal to his base. He loved their adoration. His actions and words were a reflection of that vanity.

Of course, Joe Biden intends to countermand Trump with more executive orders. This ends up in a cycle that creates a stronger executive branch to the detriment of the other branches, breaking the system of checks and balances. It becomes more dysfunctional and less stable and sustainable.

Of course, part of all this is the existential logjam that’s taking place in Congress. Democrats in the House pass bills, with partisan votes, but Republican McConnell in the Senate won’t bring them forward for action.

Beyond that, many of our individual dreams are like paper in fire. We diligently pursue them but they often come to little or no fruition, disappearing after we stop like paper in fire.

Sounds like it might be unhappy thinking. It’s not. We had our first snow dust this morning. Peering out at the cold scene with coffee in hand prompted reflection. Besides Trump and the US government, I also considered my characters and their motivations and dreams. They’re mostly in survivor or service roles even as unusual and unique issues impact them. In many ways, while they affect what happens in their world, their names will disappear like paper in fire.

So, there it is. Good rock tune with an Appalachian musical vibe. Hope you enjoy it and that you’re having a good one. Wear a mask, please. Cheers

Thursday’s Theme Music

How ’bout a little ditty about “Jack & Diane”? I always thought I could hear a sneer in John Cougar Mellencamp’s voice when he sang, “Two American kids doing best they can.” The song captured so much of small town Americana and references, how and where they’re hanging out, hopes, dreams, attitude and clothing.

So let it rock.

Saturday’s Theme Music

My wife and I were driving home when John Mellencamp’s “Authority Song” played on the radio. We knew the song and sang along. It’s from his Uh-huh album. It came out in 1983, when he was John Cougar. We saw him perform a few years later, in Germany.

As the song wound toward its end, my wife said, “This song doesn’t have many words to it, does it?” No, but that’s how a lot of pop songs are, to me. I was thinking more about these lines:

“I said, “Growing up leads to growing old and then to dying
“And dying to me don’t sound like all that much fun.”

The idea that death is bad — or not fun — has been weaponized, something to use keep us in check. “You might get hurt if you do that. You might even die.” Yes, as if we’re all living forever on this world, in these bodies.

I thought, Heaven as a concept must have been invented to comfort people who are dying or has lost someone. I always liked that idea of Heaven, that another place is beyond death where we live on. Maybe it’s like living in this sense in that mythical next existence, but suppose it’s not? Yet, we’re coached and socialized to fear death because this is life.

Come on, we’re all going to die. Life might be a spectrum, and this slice of life is just another frequency band. Thank of how wonderful it could be in the next band.

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