I was traveling again, a younger person but adult. With many others, all strangers. Most of them were traveling in groups.
I was traveling light, with just a few things. It was cold, kind of dark, as we headed from one classroom to our next one: a jet aircraft.
The jet was spacious and well-lit, with many halls, classrooms, and lounging areas. People rushed around, hurrying to get to preferred spots. As the jet took off, I wandered around, looking for a place to sit. As I did, I would think, oh, no, I forgot something – book – which was green — phone, laptop. But then an insight would come: no, I didn’t bring it, or no, there it is, over there.
Almost all the other travelers were females. They seemed younger than me. Classes and their locations were announced. I tried to get there but found I was too late: the class was always full.
Meanwhile, people left things on their seats to save them, so I couldn’t use their seats while they were in class.
Becoming very dejected, I passed a man in the hall who asked, “Do you need a seat?”
“I do,” I replied.
“Come on,” he said with a gesture, turning away. “I can find something for you on the flight deck.”
We got up there. He explained to the crew up there what was going on. Another crew member said, “We have no problem with letting him sit up here but we just gave the seats away to others, right before you arrived.”
They all apologized and I headed away, looking to see, do I have my phone? My green book? Laptop? As I confirmed, yes, I had those things, they announced the flight was due to land soon.
Heading to school. Adult – roughly my current age. Driving through a dark, rainy day. It is pouring rain.
It begins with me in a car, driving. Traffic is heavy. I’m trying to get into the left-hand turn lane. A dark blue Miata is ahead, trying to get into my lane. Behind the Miata, a motorcycle is trying to also change lanes to my lane.
Patient and courteous, we work it out and go on. I turn left, then left again onto the school grounds.
Then I’m in a crowded small classroom. English lit is being taught. Other students present are famous and accomplished: movie, television, and rock stars, along with NFL players and coaches, and NASA scientists. I think, what am I doing here?
A man introduces himself as a NASA scientist. I once facilitated some NASA scientists in a team-building exercise. I struggle to remember their names. I can only tell him when and where it happened. He smiles, indulgent, but he’s not impressed.
An NFL player sitting not far from me recalls a ‘jet sweep’ play. He was blocking for the runner, and vividly remembers details. “Was the QB the runner?” I asked.
An NFL coach joins the conversation. Using a marker, he draws up the play on a sheet of paper, describing it in detail. I’m astounded.
We break to different classes. As I walk away, I notice that my computer bag, which is black leather, feels awfully light and floppy. Damn; I left my laptop at home. I think, if I have my phone, I can still log in and do things – but no. I’ve forgotten my phone, too.
Grimacing, I think, how can I recover? Not seeing a way, I sit, hoping to be inconspicuous, realizing, if called upon, I’ll just need to explain that I screwed up and forgot my phone and laptop. I’m so mortified.
Another person sits beside me. I recognize him as someone famous. He asks, “Hey, are you alright? It looks like something is bothering you.”
I explain that I forgot my laptop and that it upset me.
The teacher, a small elderly woman, comes in and sits at a desk at the crowded class’s front. She begins talking.
Ashland, southern Oregon — Tuesday, June 20, 2026.
Blue skies and sunshine. A light wind is blowing. Temperatures are creeping out of the fifties through the sixties, heading for the seventies.
Hmm. Almost the reverse of the Trump administration. They’re creeping back toward through the seventies toward the fifties — the 1850s.
Hope they’ve read “Yesteryear”. *lol*
Back to the weather. The Gingerboi, Papi, declares it almost perfect. If not for the wind, he says…
Had an excellent sleep last night. My dreams had me laughing. I’d read again a historical novel, “The Winter King”, and watched again “The Last Kingdom”. I then ended up dreaming of myself as basically a character in those settings last night. They were fun dreams, and did not have the bloody violence of the television series or novel.
The War between Trump and Facts continues. In this episode, he battles on against what our eyes show: the Great American State Fair is another Great American Trump Mess.
Reputable reporters and bloggers reported low turnout for the heavily-hyped Trump event. Trump declared there were 45,000 people attending but offered no evidence of that while others provided photos
You know, I side against Trump. He’s lied thousands of times about multiple topics. He repeats lies — like how great the economy is doing and how much respect the nation has gained. Hard data and anecdotal experiences expose his lies.
Then, there is Algaegate, the ‘redoing’ of the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool. Trump began by denigrating how it looked, dismissing what others did to fix. He bragged about how great he would make it look, what a great deal he got to make it happen, misleading us about the price while doing so.
Then the results came in, and its horrible. And the story grows about who did what behind the scenes — driving across the pool, using materials on it for which it isn’t suited, spending more money than claimed. It was supposed to cost $1M to $2M. He’s now had $16.4M spent on it.
There’s that expression, once bitten, twice shy. Other sayings proceeded it: a scalded cat fears cold water. The point is that we learn to distrust. Once mislead, we’re skeptical. Once hurt, we keep our distance.
Trump does not respect that at all. But that’s how I respond to all his claims. Any trust which may have been there is gone.
Here’s today’s music from the morning mental music stream, “Once Bitten, Twice Shy”, by Great White.
I hope you have a gloriously happy but safe day. Go with peace and grace.
The GOP called for a resolution to end Trump’s war in Iran. Then, realizing it might pass, they pulled it.
Tulsi Gabbard is out as DNI due to her husband’s health. Wonder if Kash and Stephen Miller can find similar reasons to resign…
I don’t wish cancer on anyone. And I wish her husband and their family well as they endure his cancer and treatment. But I am jaded and cynical, wondering if Trump’s declining popularity and continuing chaos played into Gabbard’s resignation.
And I think, ‘who made who?’ Did the current environment make me as cynical as I am, or did my thinking help create this environment?
Probably a bit of both, with a little help from my friends.
Project Epic LOOK – SQUIRREL! took an unsurprising turn this week when the Trump administration announced they’d indicted the ex-President of Cuba. Here’s a quote that had me laughing/gagging:
‘While announcing the charges, Acting US Attorney General Todd Blanche said President Donald Trump “will not forget its citizens.” Separately, the president said the US will make an announcement on the embargo against Cuba “pretty soon.”’
The headline in the link says:
Indictment holds accountable those who kill Americans, Blanche says
Hell, if that headline was true, ICE would be facing accountability, as they have killed Americans.
This is just more Trump theater. He’s lost approval among voters and found a way to get some love from the Cuban/American community. $1776 to service members, a slush fund for J6 insurrectionists, attacks on Iran for the war mongers…and do you see how he’s releasing women from his cabinet?
Wonder who he’s trying to win with that move.
In other news…
Read the entire article at NPR where the Trump voter says, yes, he and his wife cope with high food prices by fasting, while giving Trump an A+.
It’s frustrating to read this article. This Trump voter claims he’s a critical thinker and that’s why he voted for Trump.
Why? What was it? Was it Trump’s claim that if Kamala Harris became POTUS, we’d be at war in Iran? Was it Trump’s business bankruptcies, his multiple marriages, his failure to come through with his promises to have Mexico pay for the wall? Was it Jan 6 when Trump encouraged rioters and attempted to overturn the election? Trump’s continued lying and obsession with losing in 2020, claiming without any evidence that the election was stolen? Was it Trump’s documented 30,000 plus lies in his first four years in office?
What, what, what did this critical thinker research and think to come to his conclusion that Trump was the answer? That’s what we really want to know.
Because now this Trump voter claims that the high prices are worth it if Iran is put into its place. Yet, Trump had them worried about Kamala Harris started a war there.
Lot of critical thinking going on there…yessir…
Likewise, Donald Trump keeps making crap claims like this: President Biden had FBI agents in the Jan 6 crowd.
Those critical thinkers who support Trump overlook the fact that Trump was POTUS on Jan 6, and had been for the previous four years. How would yet to be POTUS Joe Biden have that power?
Ah, yes, the eternal MAGA boogey man: the deep state.
This is what we face. Fact-adverse Trump supporters who turn away from everything he does that goes against what he said he’d do.
No new wars.
A unifier.
Drain the swamp.
How many more years will it take for them to learn?
Well, that question assumes that they CAN — or that they want to.
One of my recurring interests is NFL football. I appreciate the athleticism and intelligence required, along with the strategy and tactics. Many games are played out in every down.
I found an article on ESPN today about advice rookies provide to the next generation of players joining the NFL ranks. As I read the advice and suggestions, many struck as something that writers — and people in other endeavors — can use to help themselves as they try to advance.
These resonated with me the most.
Never lose your confidence
‘Comparison is the thief of joy’
Take everything one day at a time
Stay patient
‘Listen to the vets’
‘Take care of your body’
I hope you can take the time to read the article. Maybe you’ll find some which help you keep moving forward.
Sunset was turning the day into a purple cloud darkness. I was getting into a large, shiny black SUV. My wife was with me, and some others, but they’re unknown. As the mechanics of starting the vehicle and guiding it out of a parking lot to a road was finished, I realized that something was on the vehicle’s front end. That something progressed fast from ‘something’ to a full-grown cougar. With that registering, I stopped the car and told the rest what I saw, then stepped out of the vehicle to cautiously approach the animal. Alive, it clung to the front with its claws. I told it, “Shoo.” To my amazement, the cougar departed its space, trotting away from me, amusing, mysterious, bewildering.
Returning to the vehicle, I drove for some time. Arriving somewhere during daytime, my wife and I left the vehicle to shop in some little stores. Not particularly interested in shopping, I found a cushioned bench where I sat. Feeling drowsy, I laid down to nap. I awoke after some unknown time because a small stripped tabby cat was curled up against me and purring in my ear. Fully awake, I put and scratched the sweet, loving animal. It trotted off, tail high, after a short time.
My wife came and I told her what happened. She was marginally interested, annoying me. We went out and found ourselves on the top tier of a large sports arena. Some football game was underway. I gathered this was a college or university. Skirting the game, my wife and I went down to register for classes. When I walked into the administration building, a large cougar leaped into my arms and held onto me. I was so astonished and a little wary but the animal wasn’t threatening. After some seconds of holding the cougar as it held me, a female administrator came by and told the animal to leave me alone, which it did, trotting off down a hall, disappearing through an open door.
After talking about classes, my wife and I, accompanied by a female friend, went out to walk some trails that crossed the campus. These took us into some small, rocky mountains. The day grew hot under a bright sun. My wife decided to sit and rest. I went on a bit. Looking back, I saw that she’d fallen asleep so I laid down to nap. I took off my pants, leaving me in a shirt and underwear, but covered myself with a light blanket. The friend came up. She teased and flirted with me, suggesting she wanted to join me. While I rejected her, I also wanted her, and found the entire encounter intensely erotic.
I dreamed last night that one of my cats came back to me. His name is Quinn. He was a tiny, long-haired, blackfoot sweetheart. In the dream, I was cleaning a house, dusting, sweeping, etc. The house seemed to be mine although it was no house recognized from real life.
Quinn, back in the day.
Quinn, a meticulously groomed cat, was matted in my dream. Seeing that, I made plans to thoroughly wash him and brush his fur and get it unmatted. Per his personality, Quinn dashed around. An intelligent and inquisitive beast, he always was there to see what was going on, but he despised change, and loud noises unsettled him and sent him scurrying off to a quiet safe place. So, in my dream, I ceased cleaning and making noise and just worked on coaxing Quinn to me and gaining his trust to de-mat him. I was just beginning to do so when the dream ended.
Papi, my current floof-in-residence, asks, why are you dreaming of other cats?
Oddly, awakening from that dream and reflecting on it stirred memories of living with Mom when I was young. Mom’s home would be noisy with cleaning. She’d get up and leap into action. After scrubbing the kitchen, she’d turn on the dishwasher. Next, a load of wash would be started. While dishes and clothes washed, she’d vacuum, creating a cacophony of modern cleaning. Then would be dusting and a thorough attack on the bathroom. We only had one. If home, I’d often be volunteered to vacuum and dust. Mind you, the house was already spotless before Mom started cleaning, but she always cleaned to the nth degree. In reflection, part of her house-cleaning approach was that her home reflected her abilities in her mind. I also think she reveled in the routines and sounds, as well as the results.
The other thing, on days like this, where clouds handicap the sunshine and cool air dishes it to the land, Mom would busy herself with making hot food like chili. Her chili depended on several cans of dark red kidney beans, a large diced white onion, a chopped up green pepper, a tin of tomato paste and another of stewed tomatoes, and a couple pounds of browned hamburger. I know this because I was also volunteered to help with this process.
Michael Seidel, writer 