Wenzdaz Theme Music

Another Wenzda has shifted in. It’s October 22, 2025. We’re getting into October’s last legs. Trees are still lively with colors. That huge old oak across the street hasn’t begun shedding yet. When it does, a blizzard of gold will fall to the winds. Meanwhile, seeing its high golden leaves up against the sky’s purest blue refreshes me, and adds depths to my contemplation of what in the world is going on. Now 46 F with the heater on in the house, sunshine, a front, and clear sky will help Ashlandia breach the low seventies today.

Mosquitoes found in Iceland for the first time, says a headline. Well, surely that’s a one off. They just had some record heat. The story says that Iceland and Antarctica were the only places without skeeters. Now there’s just the southern ice cap. I hear it’s been warming and shrinking, so set your calendars. I evaded stories about bomb threats, cars ramming buildings, and other signs of increasing unrest and violence in the U.S. With familiar weariness, I read about Trump rambling through another nonsensical conversation and temper my rage that this is accepted as okay by GOP senators and his donors and minions. I slipped past war updates from Ukraine and edged around the shooting involving a marshal, ICE, and another person, who was supposed to be ‘an immigrant’. Some flirting was done with the tale of the AWS outage that crashed parts of the web over the last several days. My heart and mind were wary of delving into those stories without coffee’s strength first.

The packing for our trip is done. Papi’s minder moves in tomorrow morning. I will miss my furry orange friend. A taxi will whisk us away like refugees in the night. Fingers crossed, etc., by this time tomorrow we’ll be aloft in one of aerospace machines, heading east for Mom’s birthday, seeing family, etc. Sis sent photos of Mom’s new lair. She included the little electric fake fireplace Mom had in her living room. Mom and Frank bought it an estate sale and were so happy with it. I know Mom will find comfort in having it on, warming the air and her heart.

Dad’s birthday is next week. Day after Mom’s, the day before Mom’s late brother, a few weeks after my late mother-in-law, and a week after my brother-in-law. Anyway, I wrote Dad a letter this morning, thanking him for what he’s done for me, telling him how much I enjoy our telephone conversations and laughing with him, etc. Afterward, The Neurons felt it appropriate to insert Dido’s song, “Thank You”, in the morning mental music stream. So here we go.

May peace and grace find their way back to us. Many wonder if they still exist. I believe it’s still being cultivated in many places where protections are in place to keep it from being smashed. Till then, roll on. Cheers

Twozdaz Theme Music

Cold and shiny Twozda Morning in October. This is 10/23/2025. 46 F in Ashland, the temperature will frolic into the low 70s with the sun’s herding. Fall’s grasp is as firm as ever, with leaves decomposing and dropping while others hang, shimmering in reds and golds.

Sis has moved Mom into her house because of Mom’s repeated falls and inability to care for herself. No one is there to help her at her house, etc. Sis meets with a real estate agent next Tuesday to pull the levers to sell Mom’s house. An estate sale is being established to sell Mom’s furniture and belongings. Not excited to return to this state, and you know what I mean. This is life. But I’m looking forward to seeing family and being in the area of my youth.

In one of Trump’s continuing rampages to show how much he hates the United States, he’s now having the physical building called the White House destroyed. As it was put in a comment on another site, I am volcanically pissed. Breathtaking arrogance. If anything proves that Trump has no sense of history and gives not a jot of shit about anything except himself, this is it. Destroying the house of We the People and replacing it with his own gaudy, cheap imitation of grandeur is disgusting and infuriating. Project 2025 is certainly well pleased and gleeful. Roberts Court is probably shrugging. They let him trample the Constitution with his overweight ego and obese body, why not allow this effrontery? Sure hope all those MAGA are happy too. Isn’t this how love for your nation is shown, by tearing down its heritage?

Approval for him falls. Disapproval for him rises. Strength to stand against him and his regime increases.

A Daily Kos post by Michael Taylor offers solid insights into the Trump Regime’s war against the United States.

Criminalising an idea: the dangerous fiction of “ANTIFA, the organisation”

Let’s talk about a magic trick. Not the kind with rabbits and hats, but the political kind, where a complex idea is made to vanish, only to be replaced by a simple, monstrous caricature. The latest magicians? Pam Bondi, U.S. Attorney General, and the broader Trump administration, who are attempting to pull off the dangerous illusion of criminalising ANTIFA.

The premise of their act is that ANTIFA is a unified, hierarchical terrorist organisation– a domestic version of ISIS – that can be neatly listed, proscribed, and its members prosecuted. This is a profound and likely deliberate misunderstanding. ANTIFA, short for “anti-fascist,” is not an organisation; it is a political belief and a movement, no more a single entity than “conservatism” or “environmentalism.”

Under cover of criminalizing a concept and calling it an organization, the Trump Regime can attempt to use all of the government’s military and police forces against United States citizens, weakly rationalizing it as part of their fight against ‘antifa’. As Taylor closes:

The real danger isn’t a black-clad protester breaking a window; it’s a government that seeks to break the foundational principle that in America, people are free to believe, and to protest, what they see fit.

Meanwhile, the Epstein Shutdown has moved into its third week, earning Trump’s third government shutdown in five years of ‘leadership’ as the third longest U.S. government shutdown in history.

Without too much surprise, Trump’s Gaza ceasefire is as successful as Trump University, Trump Steaks, various Trump casinos and hotels, and Trump Air. Trump is a magical enshittifier.

I have The Moody Blues performing “The Story in your Eyes” in the morning mental music stream. Between conversations with Papi as I explain we’ll be going away but his favorite house sitter will be here, and thoughts of Trump’s destruction, and, well, changes in life in general, Les Neurons responded with lines out of the song.

Listen to the tide slowly turning. Wash all our heartaches away. We’re part of the fire that is burning, and from the ashes we can build another day.

May grace and peace get up and going and come around to see how we’re doing. Coffee is making itself familiar to the various body functions. Time to rock it. Time to roll it. Until the next, cheers from Trump and his smirking BFF, Jeffrey Epstein.

Mundaz Theme Music

Munda, October 20, 2025, has set upon us. 36 F, a clear deep blue sky crowns the valley. With solar influences working through this clear air, 71 F is the hoped-for high.

Bad news from home. Sis reports that she let Mom sleep in this AM. Yesterday, she went over at 11 AM and Mom was still asleep, so, she worked off that. When she reached Mom by phone, Mom said she’d fallen two more times. Mom said she just stayed on the floor and slept there. Sis headed over to see if Mom needed to head to the hospital. That’s at least Mom’s fourth fall Mom reported on herself since last Friday. Not a reassuring trend.

The Epstein Shutdown is creeping toward its third week.

Trump and the GOP shrug. Moderate Dems are unfortunately leaning toward ‘working’ with the GOP to pass something. They have not, apparently, had their FAFO moment with the Trump Regime.

I began pulling up news to see the latest Trump Destruction Machine’s moves. Instead, I came across the graphic below and thought, that’s the way to go.

I will say that many MAGAs and conservatives commenting about the No Kings rally are trying hard to pretend it was very small. Meaningless. They insist Trump is very popular. Also, he’s not doing anything wrong. It’s a familiar scene. We know that people often remain oblivious or accepting until there’s a FAFO moment for them.

I was not surprised that the TACO Regime announced they were ‘investigating’ the No Kings rally. Shows their worries and fears’ depths. Think they can manipulate us into submission via fear and intimidation. They think that Democrats, liberals, and progressives are as easily manipulated as that MAGA base and the Fox fed GOP.

Music choices are swirling in the morning mental music stream. Several music-related celebrity deaths were announced, alongside former NFL and college football players. One of them was Jack White, a producer. He produced Laura Branigan’s cover of “Gloria”. The Neurons are fond of the song, so that won a residency in the morning mental music stream and another turn as theme music. Alas, we lost Laura B way back in 2004.

Time to rock on. Coffee is starting to rock me awake. Yes, I’ve been sleep typing. Hope peace and grace come out of seclusion to give us a sign that they’re still alive and well. Cheers

Sundaz Wandering Thoughts

Frank passed away, so I’m remembering Frank. 95, he and Mom were together for his life’s last twenty years plus. Which, as I think about it, causes me to realize that Frank was about five years older than my present age when he and Mom met. My youngest sister, Lisa, was the agent of their coming together. Mom was dating another, Ed, at the time. Lisa worked in a bank. She regularly saw Frank and decided that Frank and Mom were a good match. When she suggested it to Frank, he asked, “Is she pretty?” Lisa beamed and gave a knowing nod. “Yep.”

Lisa was right. Mom and Frank hit it right off. All was a lot of fun for years. Biking, walking, movies, tennis, dancing, estate sales. They had a good life before Mom’s accidents, health, and drugs crippled things. I’m happy they had those years together.

When my wife and I talked about it, she marveled about old people dating. “People our age,” she exclaimed as we both laughed. She went on, “I’m like that song. I’m not ready to get naked in front of another.”

We spoke more seriously about friends and relatives our age and older dating. Ron, 78, lost his wife ten years ago to breast cancer. He’s had a regular girlfriend for three years. Now he’s dating another woman and they’re having fun. Sis-in-law, coming up on 70, has a regular boyfriend, her third since her husband died of brain cancer about five years ago (I think). Then there’s Barb, 81 this Feb, dating a guy who is her age. Both had preferred younger people and would hook up with someone for a few months and then move on. Now, months into this relationship, Barb professes that she’s in love. Sweet and beautiful.

So, there’s hope, if you put yourself out there. As Frank and Mom did. Hell, as Dad did. Now at 92, he’s on his third marriage. It’s lasted over thirty years, the longest marriage of his life, and he seems happy and contented.

Hope and love aren’t limited by age.

Sundaz Theme Music

Sunda. October 19, 2025. Rain hissed on the roof. The house heater added a rush of air. 49 F, rain is expected all day, with a temperature that peaks at 61 F. Fog has sunk its teeth into the surrounding mountains. Leafy golds, yellows, oranges, and reds glow. Papi galloped in, threw himself down and vigorously applied his tongue to his orange fur to rid himself of that accursed wet. Then it was on to food, nom nom nom.

The No Kings II protest went well. We made it an hour late. Finding parking was a Lewis & Clark expedition. Was great being out there yesterday with other protestors, waving our signs, protesting the GOP eagerness to let Trump be king, protesting Trump’s arrogance that he should be king, protesting the general shit show Trump, Project 2025, and the GOP are putting on. Felt good to know others like us are out there, and they’re standing up. Even more satisfying and validating were the cars going by, horns blowing, giving us thumbs up, holding up peace signs, shouting, “Right on.” Only heard one “Fuck you,” and one “Sieg heil.” The latter came from a woman. Both of these disapprovers were in huge pickemups.

My greatest disappointment was that most of the protesters were old folks like us. The young were in short supply. My wife reminded me that they probably have to work and to cut them some slack. Anyway, thinking about the young provoked The Neurons to bring up a Eurythmics song, “All the Young (People of Today)”. Came out in 1981. Odd vibe to it. I thought, wow, that’s a weird one to come up with. I know it from listening to Euythmics CDs. Don’t think any radio station ever sent it to my ears.

Mom’s new habitat enclosure at sis’s house is getting developed fast. Small dorm frig has been added. A microwave. Hope Mom will be happy there, along with warm and safe. There was a whole late-night misadventure on Friday night. Mom thought she heard someone trying to get into her house and knocking on the door, calling her name. She was there alone. Hiding in her bathroom, she texted her daughters and grandchildren to call the police for her. Why she didn’t do that for herself is one aspect of the mystery. As it was after midnight, most were asleep or away from their phones. Mom’s texts went unnoticed until a grandson, Michael, saw it. Then 911 was called, etc. Police showed up, knocking on Mom’s front door. She wouldn’t answer. She was hiding in the bathroom. The police reported deer were on the small stoop outside of Mom’s room, eating off a tree by the house. 911 had to call my sister, who called Mom to tell her what was going on.

Coffee is singing to The Neurons once again. The day has grown brighter. The temperature has climbed to 50 and if you lean forward and squint at just the right angle, there’s a small blue patch struggling to break out of the cloud eggs containing it. Which reminds me. Hope peace and grace break out of their shells soon and bless us with some visiting. Here we go, on into another day, another week, another…well, you know. Cheers

Satyrdaz Theme Music

It’s Satyrda, Oct 18, 2025, also known as No Kings II. This is a day when We the People come together to remind Trump, Project 2025, the GOP, and the rest of the world that the United States rejected kings ruling them twice before, in 1776, and then again when the idea was floated before G. Washington. We didn’t want kings then; we don’t want them in 2025.

My spouse and I spent time last night constructing our signs and finalizing our plans. This morning, my wife came to me. “I screwed up,” she said. “My doctor appointment isn’t 1:30, it’s 11:30.”

Oh. That changed things. Originally, we would hit the rally from 11 to 1, leave at 1 and go to her appointment. Now we’ll go to her appointment and then head to the rally when it’s over.

It’s a brisk fall morning out there. Plentyo sunshine, clear, blue sky, but just 39 F at our place. 75 F will be ours before the night pulls in.

For the record, the Epstein Shutdown continues along on cruise control. Republicans are mostly content to let things slide and refuse to fix healthcare issues for millions of Americans. That’s just how they roll.

Today’s song comes from a convo with my wife last night. I was doing a load of delicates. Did she want to put anything in? Sure. She zipped around doing her collection, then came to me and said, “I can’t find my sports bra.” I found it in the laundry basket. She’d just overlooked it. But meanwhile, The Neurons projected a song variation in my head. They had me singing, “Looking for my bra in all the wrong places,” to the tune of “Lookin’ for Love”. “Lookin’ for Love” by Johnny Lee was a 1980 hit associated with the movie, Urban Cowboy. We were livin’ in San Antonio, Texas, at the time, and you could not escape the song. Anyway, The Neurons kept it going in the morning mental music stream. That’s how it came to be here.

Coffee is flirting with The Neurons. Time to get up and at them. Hope grace and peace find us all today and maybe stick around long enough for us to get to know them. Hope to see you at the protests. Cheers

Fridaz Wandering Thoughts

I’ve been sitting here, stewing and worrying about Mom.

I should have known better.

Backstory to this, Mom’s live-in boyfriend died this week after an accident. Mom has been experiencing multiple health issues, going back more than twenty years. Frank’s death and Mom’s health issues were both marked with a fall down the same set of steps. I worried about that happening for years and kept warning them. Now it’s taken Frank.

Frank’s passing is a big shock to Mom’s way of life. Frank still drove his car, although it could be terrifying at times. He was 95 and almost blind in one eye, so there were some “Yikes!” moments. Well, many “Yikes!” moments. But he shopped for Mom, took her to her appointments, picked up her prescriptions, helped her dress and clean, and so many other things that a spouse does for their other. He also contributed to paying her bills. With Frank gone, who was going to do these things for Mom?

Little sis, the powerhouse of the family, sent me a text today that she’s been busy getting ready for Mom to move.

Turns out, even before Frank passed away, sis suggested to Mom that Mom live with sis in her house. Sis has a full house already. Her youngest daughter and boyfriend live with her. So does her hubby. But sis has a finished half basement which they’d set up as an exercise space and lounge. It has its own bathroom. Now sis is cleaning it up and setting it up as Mom’s new permanent residence. The floor is level so she can wheel around with no problem. There’s a refrigerator down there. The aforementioned bathroom. It’s connected to the garage so she can roll right out to the car as needed.

As sis puts it, Mom could also go upstairs with some help, so she can participate in things. Mom will be contributing to electricity, sewer, and water to help defray the increased costs.

Sis has cleaned out Mom’s kitchen cupboards already. She found a can of cocoa in there that she says might have been from a time before manufacturers were required to put expiration dates on cans.

It is so good to have such a capable and energetic little sister. Gotta love her.

Fridaz Theme Music

So we come to Frida. Frida’s here at last. However you might feel about it, the day is sure to pass. Might go slow, might be low, or it could be blindingly quick. Whatever happens on this day, there could be some that make you sick. But if you persevere and get through again, you might come away with a win. So try a smile on your face, then set your pace, better yet, make it a grin.

Yep, it’s Frida, October 17, 2025. 45 F in Ashlandia around my home, we’re learning toward an upper sixties high. 70 F might be found for some. Depends on the winds and the air, the clouds and the sun. As of now, sunshine is dashing off the huge old oak’s golden leaves across the street, startling brilliant against an unmarked blue sky.

Awoke from a solid night of zee and some startling, vivid dreams, and arose in a spirited mood. Thinking about the past, present, and future, The Neurons gifted me with a Bryan Adams song which captures my Frida energy. They projected “Summer of 69” into my morning mental music stream, offering a rocking early morning. Feel free to look back and sing along, if you’re old enough to look back, and know the words, ‘course.

Coffee is plowing the body with its offering. Hope grace and peace climbs out of the shadows and leaps forward to help us all as we launch into the No Kings protests this weekend. Just for the record, the Ashland No Kings II rally doesn’t have permits, but many are planning to be there to exercise their rights.

Here we go. Cheers

Mike Johnson Accuses No Kings Protesters of Blatantly Exercising First Amendment Rights

Thirstdaz Theme Music

Today is Thirstda, October 16, 2025. Fall sky and trees are in concert with sunshine and a spectrum of leafy colors to play against blue. Kind of visual that shows up on postcards and travelogues. Chilly 47 F but dry. Sun and air will take us to the upper sixties.

Met with my supplier last night. “Here,” she said, offering a brown paper bag. I glanced around for police or witnesses before accepting the bag. “Thanks.” She smiled. “Enjoy.”

Back in the truck, I told my driver, “Hit it.” Only then did I open the bag and peer in. Grins spread over my expression at the pretty collection of late-season figs.

Bad news for us on the ‘No Kings’ front. Ashland’s rally for this Satyrda was canceled. Couldn’t get a permit. We’ll attend the one in Medford instead.

The Epstein Shutdown has consumed over half of October of 2025. We’re still well short of the longest shutdown. That would be the Trump Shutdown of 2018-2019, which lasted 35 days. Large differences between the two include what DOGE did to the government before this shutdown, gutting the Federal infrastructure, mobilizing national guard units before this shutdown, and the deepening darkness of what’s going on with Federal spending as those functions have been kneecapped or muted. Also different this time is the capitulation of so many mainstream media outlets, aided by billionaire ownership who donate and support Trump. Last, of course, is the notorious masked ICE. They weren’t the unleashed paramilitary group they now are. Led by Kristi Noem, this force has demonstrated an eagerness to violently assault anyone who might by the wrong skin color, is in the wrong place, speaks with the wrong accent, or rolls their eyes at them.

Multiple Reports of US Citizens Detained in Chicago

The unsurprising news was delivered to us today that Mom’s boyfriend, Frank, passed away this morning. He would have been 96 in January. Love and light to Frank.

When Frank had his fall that precipitated his hospital stay and passing, he didn’t want Mom to call an ambulance or take him to the hospital. Told her that he was fine.

Today’s song is for Frank. Frank was a rock, dependable, reliable, steady, consistent. Not surprising that The Neurons placed “Carry On” by Fun in the morning mental music stream when the news came. Sample lyrics.

If you’re lost and alone
Or you’re sinking like a stone.
Carry on.
May your past be the sound
Of your feet upon the ground.
Carry on.

Carry on, carry on

h/t to AZLyrics.com

Time to carry on after a few more gulps of coffee. Hope peace and grace finds us and lifts us up, and does so pretty damn soon. Okay, here we go. Cheers

A Water Dream with Deux Chats

This was a variation of a dream which I’ve had several times. It’s been several years, as best as I can recall. Basics include a water related disaster while I’m in a huge building. The building’s purpose is never fully clear, but it reminds me of modern office buildings.

Toward the dream’s end, I look out a window. The building is on a shoreline but raised above the beach. From my vantage, I can look down and across. I see deep blue water lapping at the upper level of rocky breakers. It’s clear that water broke over those breakers but has receded some. “Oh my god,” I said, “I didn’t realize the water got that high.”

The person I’m speaking with agrees, and tells me it was much higher. The building had been evacuated. Almost everyone was gone. I decide the time is right for me to get out. But I know where my car was parked. I know that area was flooded.

Then I think, wait, I had another car parked on another level. Do I have the key? Yes, I do. Good. Just need to reach it.

I go to use some stairs to go down. They’ve been severely damaged. Pipes and wires are exposed, blocking part of the way, and some of the wall has been knocked over. I attempt to go down one side but the way is blocked. Seeing another way, I precariously cross from one side to the other as others watch and anxiously call, “Careful.” But I make it without issue.

Going down, which in real life seems wrong but made perfect sense in dreamland, I reach my old car. It gets muddled here; the old car is sometimes an old green Mercury Comet sedan I drove as a teenager but it’s a silver Nissan 200 I once owned at other times. While I’m confused while remembering it, it seemed straightforward in my dream.

I start toward the car when three women interrupt me. All are dressed in the Air Force ‘office’ uniform that we used to wear, a light blue shirt with insignia, ribbons and awards, and name plate, along with black shoes and dark blue pants. Their uniforms are immaculate. One is a stranger, one is my sister, and the third is an actress. But they’re just friendly strangers in the dream. The one who is my sister says, “Can you answer a question for us? We’re trying to figure out if running the radio slows down a Formula 1 car.”

The actress says, “I think it would slow down a NASCAR racer but they’re still pretty fast. They can go three hundred miles an hour.”

Several responses bounce around my head. Like, Formula 1 cars don’t have radios in the way she’s talking about, which becomes clear as she explains that she thinks drivers probably enjoy listening to music. I tell them that race cars don’t have radios that play music and that it would slow them down anyway. They thank me and start talking to one another. I go on.

As I approach the car, two cats appear. They are Jade and Roary, two cats who once lived with us but at different times. They’re well, healthy, with their tails up. Neither make a noise but are waiting for me to get into the car. I open the door. They stand aside as I get in and start it without problem. Looking across the parking lot, I see another car I used to own, a blue Mazda RX-7, and think, wait until I tell my wife about that. Then I tell the cats, “Come on, get in.” They hop into the car, and I put it into gear. Dream end.

Not my RX-7 but one just like it, one of three I owned at different times.

Thinking about it, though, I was dismayed. I thought several negative aspects were being presented to me. But a voice in my head said, “Let’s talk about this dream.” Summarizing, the voice tells me, you have at least two more lives left, represented in the two cats. Also, you’re not as close to death as you sometimes think. Your old car represents you. Your car was unexpectedly remembered, found, and then started without problem. You’re being helped by female energy from three different but related sources. The water was high but it’s receding, and things will get better.

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