Tag: life

Sunday’s Theme Song — Promises

Ashland, southern Oregon. Sunday, October 4, 2026.

Supposed to be bright, sunny, and hot today, but clouds swamped three fourths of the sky, and sunshine struggled to be seen and felt. Never reached close to the 90 which was forecast, but it’s now 83 F.

Dreamed last night that I was in basic training. When I awoke and saw the date, I realized it was the anniversary of my first enlistment. October 4, 1974, I took my first oath. Twenty years later, I declared done.

I remember that first day. Rainy and overcast. Went in oh dark thirty. Was given a meal voucher for breakfast at a nearby local diner. Then had lunch at the same place with another voucher. We didn’t take off until late that afternoon.

That was my first time in an airplane, too. Flew from West Virginia, where I then lived, to San Antonio, Texas, via some other city.

It was a Friday, too. When we arrived at Lackland AFB, Texas, to begin basic training, we were informed there weren’t enough to make a full flight. We wouldn’t begin training until the following Tuesday, and spent the extended weekend in silence in our civies, waiting to begin.

Yes, welcome to the military. That’s how it was during my entire career: hurry up, then wait, then GO!

I spoke with Mom today. She called so I ended up chatting with her for an hour, just talking about life in the assisted living facility, Heritage Grove, Penn Hills. While I was speaking with her, my wife took a call on the home line and we learned that our friend, Larry, passed away at 3 AM this morning.

Larry was 96, and a military veteran. Obtaining a degree from Purdue via the GI Bill, he ended up as an engineer and an executive in the aerospace industry. After college, he lived and worked most of his life in the Los Angeles, California, area, moving up here to Ashland after retiring. He was married and adopted and raised two children and had two grandchildren. Although staunchly conservative and Republican, he was intelligent, trustworthy, and fun. I’ll miss him.

I read the NYT’s coverage of a 2026 Trump rally. They’re heavy with promise and rituals: attack the Democrats, maybe throw in a commie scare. Lie about multiple things. Donald Trump will use profanity — his fans love it when he uses profanity, because he’s telling it like it is, isn’t he? Trump sometimes claims prices are way down, which probably surprises anyone who regularly shops.

At many stops this year, Trump is begging people to support AI and data center construction. It’s the primary commercial construction now underway. He might claim the US already won against Iran, or he might threaten Iran with more bombing.

What is so sad is that after the many lies Donald Trump has made, and after all the promises that Donald Trump has broken, his brand of chaos, hatred, and bigotry still serve a portion of the Republican party.

Today’s music is by Incubus. The 2011 song, “Promises, Promises” did not come from reading the news. It came instead while listening to my mother talk about the inherent promises made — work hard, save your money, buy a house, raise a familiar — all that American dream debris, will bring you happy closure when you pass away. Mom relates that she and her gang of assisted living friends refer to their new home as jail — three hots and a cot.

I hope you live up to the promises you make, and that others fulfill the promises they make to you.

I also hope that promise and swear to Vote Blue in November, 2026.

Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music — Don’t Look Back

Ashland, southern Oregon — Saturday, October 3, 2026.

A scorcher of a day is set up. Long stretches of thin white crossing the atmosphere’s bowl, but it’s mostly blue. Dropped to 80 now — a hot 80 — but it was over 90. More of the same is expected tomorrow.

Mom reports she’s feeling better. Played bingo at the assisted living facility and won five games. She seemed relaxed and — risking the chance of jinxing it — happier today.

Meanwhile, my WordPress still isn’t right, just a fly in my pinot noir. On the good news side, my next step in my cancer treatment, the BCG was moved up to this coming Monday. An impatient person, that pleases me. I’m a ‘let’s get this done’ sort of personality.

Reading political and other news, I told myself, don’t look back. Looking back causes me to grit my teeth with pain and anger over what’s happening with our nation, especially so as Donald Trump breaks promise after promises, rages about different things, and lies about almost everything. There’s a lot riding on the upcoming midterms.

Those thoughts encouraged The Neurons to introduce “Don’t Look Back in Anger” into the morning mental music stream. As I hummed the Oasis tune to myself this morning, I was surprised to see an article claiming that it was released 31 years ago. Why it seems like just yesterday!

Then again, it seems like just yesterday that I took my first driving test and got my license. It feels like just yesterday that I as going to the prom, and just yesterday that I was getting ready to play a football game.

Just yesterday seems so close and so far. Maybe I’m going on a long elliptical orbit around my existence. My memories will begin fading and the next thing I know — without knowing — is that I’m living my life all over again, following the orbit already established through agencies outside of my control.

Here’s the Oasis music. May your orbit take you into brighter, happier days and you smile often.

Cheers

3

Friday’s Theme Music — Gigantic

Ashland, southern Oregon — October 2, 2026.

It’s a summery fall day with a spring feel in our area. A thin, waning moon hides behind a screen of nebulous clouds in a bright blue sky. Sunshine splashes off the autumn foliage with eye-watering vividness. We’re at 68 F, on our way to 85.

October always means birthdays in my family. Too many of the people we’d fete have gone through the secret door. But I set up reminders to buy cards during the digital dawn. The reminders come up, reminding me that I need to take them down.

It amuses me that the reminders have survived a succession of computers, laptops, and software updates, yet my regular processes are often maligned or broken. As Laura put it in a comment on my current WordPress issues, “In order to serve us better… (worst phrase in the English language!) …”

Yes, when they tell us, they’re often putting icing on a turd.

No, my WordPress tags do not work today. Hearing that Laura was also a comfort in the ‘it’s-not-just-me’ sense.

As I went through the news headline progressions today, I thought, what a gigantic friggin’ mess the world is becoming. I modified my appraisal a few times. The world has always been a gigantic mess. Usually, though, if we found out we were making the world worse, we would try to fix things. With Donald Trump on the scene, our government actively works to make the gigantic mess an even larger mess.

Which led to my conclusion, Donald Trump is a gigantic jackass.

This headline helped cement that conclusion:

Third aircraft carrier and thousands of troops head to Mideast as Trump weighs new Iran strikes

Most striking here are, well, so many thoughts. Like, it’s Trump weighing new strikes. Said he was a peacemaker. Unifier. Said the war was over. Said it wouldn’t last more than a few weeks. Yes, that Trump.

SMFH

Verifying Trump remains a gigantic liar and ignorant buffoon, I read the story following this headline:

When Trump boasts about donating his presidential salary, be sure to read the fine print

  1. Trump inflates is salary from $400K to $550K.
  2. Trump is not the first or only to donate is salary.
  3. All of this is easily found and verified via the Internet so, WTF is he making these claims?
  4. Donald Trump is a gigantic jackass.

Which brings us to Your Trump Quote of the Day:

It’s another Trump broken promise, as Trump reported making over $1B while being in office in 2025. That doesn’t include his golf and travel scams.

That brings me to a song by The Pixies, “Gigantic”. The Neurons plugged the song into my morning mental music stream but the song doesn’t really fit. It only connects with my thinking via that one word, gigantic.

Sample Lyrics

“Hey Paul, hey Paul, hey Paul, let’s have a ball
Hey Paul, hey Paul, hey Paul, let’s have a ball
Hey Paul, hey Paul, hey Paul, let’s have a ball”

[Chorus: Kim Deal & Frank Black]
Gigantic, gigantic, gigantic
A big, big love
Gigantic, gigantic, gigantic
A big, big love

[Verse 2: Kim Deal]
Lovely legs, they’re a…
What a big black mess, what a hunk of love
He’d walk her every day into a shady place
He’s like the dark, but I’d want him

Nevertheless, I like the song — especially Kim’s voice.

May your day be full of gigantic good news and good times

Cheers

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The Festival Dream

Young again, as it often happens in my dreams, my wife and I were at a three-day festival. We knew a few people there casually, but most were strangers. We were making acquaintances, though.

I’m not sure what the festival was about. It was partly outside and inside, on different levels, but was very easy to get around. Some areas were set up with drinks and other areas had food, dancing, and demonstrations.

After wandering around some, my wife and I went to explore different things. I ended up in the company of a young charismatic man with thick, dark curly hair. He was the de facto leader of a social group there and invited me to be part of that group. I had a lot of fun with them.

Then there was a quiet time for resting. He invited me to find them the next day. I ended up borrowing his car. First, it was a silver blue. Then, it was red. Both times, it was a small car, convertible and sporty but nothing familiar. Yet, with the second car, I thought that I remembered them. Very red and small, it still seated four. I recalled that a panel could be put over the rear seats to give the car a racier look, but that could be removed for seating, which I thought was clever.

I drove the car a bit but had trouble parking it. Misjudging an angle when I turned into the garage, I had to wait until people walked around the back of the car before I could reverse, widen my approach, and park in the space.

After that, I began to drift through the festival, eyes open for my wife or my new friends. I ran into my wife. We talked for a moment but she went on.

The festival was thinning out. A woman who had been with my wife approached me as I looked at a menu board. She asked if I wanted something. Her way of talking confused me and I politely declined and walked away. She re-approached with a large bag of potato chips. Giving them to me, she lectured me a little, telling me that I should accept offers when they’re given. Then she finished, “We Americans need to stick together and help each other.”

She seemed to indicate that we were the only Americans at the festival. Her remark confused me. I came across my wife again and offered her some chips. She declined and went off again. I gave the chips to someone else and went to watch a demonstration of fire department teams showing their skills doing different things.

One woman led a team. She was very impressive with how she went about rolling hoses, wielding axes, and other things. Growing drowsy, I laid down to watch her from a platform. Others were there. I could hear them talking about the same woman who impressed me. After a bit, one of the other people jostled me. Faking indignation, I turned around and demanded to know who was disturbing my sleep.

I was surprised. It was my sister. She was her ‘real age’, that is the age she is now. Her youngest son, also in his current age, was with her, along with a few other people who I didn’t know.

I was now my real age. Telling them, “I’ll see you later,” I decided it was time to leave the festival and went off into a large warehouse lit with yellow lights to find my wife. Behind me, I heard my nephew say, “That’s how he is. Watch, he won’t be back.”

Dream end.

3

Two Dreams

I remember two dreams from last night but only snippets from a third. Here’s what I recall about the two.

First, there was a writing dream. A young man again, I was in my early twenties.

I love how my dreams often make me younger. *smile*

I was sitting with my wife at a low, light gray counter. She was on my right. To my left was a young girl, white with long brown hair. I think she was about 12. Nobody I knew.

In front of me on the counter was a yellow legal pad. A male voice outside of my dream frame was suggesting that I write a book about writing fiction.

I was laughing and denigrating the idea. “I’ve had a couple short stories published, and I self-published a few books,” I rebutted. “That’s not really a good position as someone giving writing advice.”

But as I was talking, I was scribbling ideas on the yellow pad. Using a red pen, I wrote down four columns.

My wife said, “I think you should.”

And the out of dream voice said, “The girl will type it up for you.”

And the girl was saying, “I’m bored. Is there anything for me to type?”

That all made me laugh harder. On the yellow pad, I jotted down ideas in the four columns as I laughed.

Dream end

The Race Dream

I was in some coastal area with my wife and some friends. (The friends weren’t anyone from real life.)

A storm was coming in from the ocean, building up. The winds were growing higher, and the surf was rising and becoming more violent.

But a race was being held in the water. I don’t know what distance was involved but people could parasail, surf, bicycle, swim, or run to win. The race would go along the coastline.

I had a friend there with a saddled brown horse (with a black mane and tail) and several young children. The friend BTW looked like a young Viggo Mortensen. The children were begging him to enter the race. He was uncertain but they talked him into it. So he climbed into the saddle. After pulling the two children up onto the saddle with him, he urged the horse forward to join the race.

I watched, amused and also wondering, “Is that safe?” I saw that the surf was much worse than I thought it was. I was considering how he would do this, envisioning the horse galloping sometimes through waves breaking on the shore, but mostly urging the horse along on the firm, wet sound just above the water line.

I heard people mocking my friend, “Oh, look, here’s another one who doesn’t know how to surf.”

The starting gun went off and the race began. I watched as the racers went south, through the crashing waves, as sunlight broke through thinning gray storm clouds.

Knowing the race would be away, I went to the house where we were staying. This was actually a large, lovely terra cotta mansion. I was standing out there, having drinks with friends and my wife. It was a small group. Two of the friends were from my childhood, and two were adult friends.

One childhood friend asked, “Why did they call you the professor when you were young.”

I laughed it off. “Probably because I read a lot and had to wear glasses.”

My wife said, “No, it was because you were smart.”

My other childhood friend said it was because I always got good grades.

As we were talking, I noticed a blonde teenage girl standing off to one side, listening. I realized that she was going to back and tell her friends about this conversation.

Turning, and shifting angles, I found a view of the ocean. The race was still going on. I saw about forty competitors and thought I spotted my friend on horseback but wasn’t sure.

Dream end

4

Monday’s Theme Music – Blues

Ashland, southern Oregon. Monday, September 28, 2026.

Lovely fall day with bold white billowy clouds and small, scattered negligee clouds hanging against a blue sky. Temperature crept out of the forties into the mid 70s F.

I got the first world blues this morning. Internet went out at 11:15 last night. I rebooted our system and went to bed. All looked good this morning but ‘lo, no Internet. I called our ISP, Ashland Home Net (HSN), to see what they could tell me. First tech said, “Reboot your router for me.” Pretty damn imperial about it, too. I did and we agreed I’d call back in ten minutes if it didn’t work.

Fifteen minutes later, I called HSN again. This tech was not the same as the first tech. He told me, “Oh, there’s an outage in the city. They’re working on it. Should be fixed in an hour. If you still don’t have a connection then, call back.”

Hour later, no connection, call back. Get the first tech who told me again, “I told you to just reset your router.”

I blew up on him and channeled my pissed-off senior NCO genes, which greatly changed his attitude. Anyway, to make this long story a little shorter, I decided I needed a new modem.

In parallel to this happening, my sister, Gina, took Mom to a doctor’s appointment as a follow up to the UTI that sent her to the hospital, keeping us up to date via texts. Mom has also been complaining of chest pains. EKG showed no issues with Mom’s heart or pace maker, but other test showed that yes, she still had a UTI. So, there’s more antibiotics scheduled, and an appointment with another doctor.

Gina took Mom clothes shopping, too, which was very nice of her.

Back here at home, it was our day to do Food & Friends delivery. However, my wife didn’t put it on the official house calendar, so we were double booked. We had noticed some slight leaking around the bathroom skylight. I’d scheduled a consultation for today for 11, which directly conflicted with the F&F timing. A friend volunteered to replace me so my wife could do the route and deliveries while I stayed home with the skylight folks.

Skylight folks, Andy and James, arrived at 11 and left at 11:30. Just flashing, Andy assured me. I’m waiting or the estimate to get that done. He says it’s minor work and can schedule it and do it done soon as I say go.

So, that was my morning. As I say, first world blues.

Later that day…(which is, yes, today…)

Went to the coffee shop. Researched routers. Went out and bought a new one. Came home, installed it. Everything except my Ooma VOIP linked up. I’m working on it.

My wife’s Food & Friends deliveries with her friend went fantastic! Everyone was home, and many were already at the door when she arrived. My wife said it was much better than when I go with her… *smile*

Later that same day…(which is, yes, still today..)

I was focused on software, settings for the new router, etc. Modem, cell phones, computers, and Roku all seamlessly connected. Terrific!

Our Ooma VOIP wouldn’t connect.

I’ve been an Ooma customer since 2008, and the unit I have is now ten years old. I thought that maybe its card had gone. No matter what I tried, I could not connect between the router and the Ooma telos. Lo, turned out to be the old ethernet cable was failing. With that replaced, all is up and running. Took hours of trying different paths, though. But, yes, done.

So ends my first world blues.

Today’s song is “Roadhouse Blues”. The Neurons began playing this 1970 song by The Doors when I rolled out of bed and told myself, “Let’s get this day rolling.” Bang, the song rolled through my morning mental music stream.

I hope your day treated you well, and you were able to avoid all kinds of blues, whether they were just simple first world complaints like mine today, or more serious blues.

Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music — Run

Ashland, southern Oregon. Sunday, September, 27, 2026.

A full-fledged fall day here — cool at 63 degrees F, warming to 73 today, with sunshine breaking through cloud blockades.

All quiet with Mom today. My sister, Gina, called Mom to see what was needed and she could help. That seemed to mollify Mom. Not to make light of it, or anything, because Mom’s needs are real. But she becomes fixated, and it often seems to stem from her sense of helplessness and isolation.

Today’s theme song is “Run Like Hell” by Pink Floyd. The song was on the album “The Wall”, released in 1979. My younger cousin was so into Pink Floyd and tremendously excited when this album came out. I was stationed at Randolph AFB in Texas at the time. He lived not far away, in San Antonio. We had a lot of fun when we could hook up. Sadly, he passed away from cancer a few years ago. I can’t hear any song off “The Wall” without remembering him.

The Neurons plugged the song into the morning mental music stream today after seeing a Robert Reich Bluesky post.

“I feel optimistic about the midterm elections, just over five weeks away. But my stomach aches when I think of what’s at stake. Call me nauseously optimistic“

Yes, that’s me, too. And if Trump loses, many will see it as validation that Trump is wildly unpopular and unsuccessful. Angry as hell, Trump will probably tilt more into authoritarian ignorance and violence, while shouting, “Cheating! National emergency!”

“Run Like Hell” is about a rock star who orders an attack on the riff raff, so it’s appropriate as hell for my feelings today. I’m optimistic, nauseous and anxious, and quite ready to metamorphically run like hell.

Sample Lyrics

You better run all day
And run all night
And keep your dirty feelings
Deep inside.

I hope you have no need to run like hell today unless it’s because you decide to run out and get a favorite treat for yourself. Remember to treat yourself kindly and try to do unto others as you’d have them do unto you.

Back to coffee, writing, hopes, and dreams.

Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Ashland, southern Oregon. Saturday, September 26, 2026.

The roads are never ending.

Autumn lines today’s road with beautiful trees and a blue sky. I saw a single white cloud. Not large or small, it was oblong shaped and thin looking. Blue streaks thinned more of it, like someone had tried to scape it from the sky.

We hit the low 70s today. Just a cool, calm, chill day. Tonight’s low temperature will dip into the mid 40s.

Texting with Mom occupied some time. She repeatedly calls and texts. And we’re apparently expected to instantly answer, take her call, etc. If we don’t then she accuses us of ignoring, abandoning, or avoiding her.

I am doing some of that. As my sister, Gina, won’t answer Mom, Mom comes to me to be her intermediary. Gina told me she hasn’t blocked Mom, but like me, she’s busy and a little weary. I honestly told Mom I don’t immediately respond because I’m busy and I’m emotionally, physically, and mentally weary. Yes, Mom contributes to some of that, but so does other things happen in our existence. She took it well.

Today’s song is “Big Empty” by the Stone Temple Pilots, often known as STP. The song came out in 1993 and became part of my music rotation as I commuted around Mountain View, Palo Alto, and Sunnyvale, CA. The Neurons tipped the song into my morning mental music stream when I was thinking about conversations with Mom. If you know the lyrics, you can get that.

Sample Lyrics

Drivin’ faster in my car
Falling farther from just what we are
Smoke a cigarette, and lie some more, these conversations kill
Falling faster in my car

Time to take her home, her dizzy head is conscience laden
Time to take a ride, it leaves today, no conversation
Time to take her home, her dizzy head is conscience laden
Time to wait too long, to wait too long, to wait too long

Too much walkin’, shoes worn thin
Too much trippin’, and my soul’s worn thin
Time to catch a ride, it leaves today, her name is what it means
Too much walkin’, shoe’s worn thin

Time to take her home, her dizzy head is conscience laden
Time to take a ride, it leaves today, no conversation
Time to take her home, her dizzy head is conscience laden
Time to wait too long, to wait too long, to wait too long

May this autumn day in the north, spring day below the equator bring you good company and delicious meals.

Cheers

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Almost Compiled

This is a quartet of micro stacks I wrote this evening: “Slumpin'”, “Looped”, “Shutdown:”, and “Reboot”.

I’m reading “Vineland” at the present. A scene in which one character, Sasha, is trying to cash a check was the trigger for this series. The manager can’t cash the check because a stop payment has been put on it. Sasha asks how is that possible, because it’s night. The manager then explains, “It’s computers. They never sleep. They’re on 24 hours.”

Cheers

Slumpin’

Looped

Shutdown:

ReBoot

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