Wenzdaz Theme Music

Dawg, what a gray, wet day looking in on us. It’s up to 36 F with clearance to soar to the mid 40s. Sunshine is lacking and what sun shows up is shaded in fifty shades of gray. This is December 3, 2025.

Today’s music emerges from an exchange with my wife. She was leaving for exercise class. I was still abed. It’s her habit to check on me before she leaves to ensure I’m alive. Hearing her coming, I held my breath and stayed motionless. “Is he alive?” she teased. I felt her hand pressed on my hip. Then she pressed on my scalp. After about ten seconds, I sprang up and proclaimed, “I’m still standing.” We laughed like idiots.

But that’s how “I’m Still Standing” by Elton John arrived in the morning mental music stream on this Wenzda.

Reports on Mom shows her doing pretty good. Sis has stocked Mom’s lair with her favorite munchies and drinks so Mom has some independence of others. Mom has become better at using Alexa to call for assistance. The one major complaint now is that Mom has her television at supercharged levels. Sis says it’s so loud sometimes that they can’t hear their television upstairs over Mom’s TV. I used to complain about the television and radios’ volume (yes, that’s a plural on the radio) when I visited Mom. She always blamed Frank. Guess it’s the ghost of Frank cranking up those devices now.

Lot of news rolling out about Trump falling asleep at meetings. ‘Member when he used to criticize and mock President Biden for falling asleep? Now he can’t seem to stay awake.

Some say it’s because he can’t sleep at night because worries about the Epstein files revelations drive him to midnight sessions of shitposting. Rumors are that Epstein’s ghost has begun haunting him, whispering in Dizzy Donny’s ears reminders of what a failure he is, how weak and vulnerable Deceitful Donny is, and how Duplicitous Donny’s failures are catching up to him. Once BFF with Epstein, TACO now tries to claim he barely knew the guy.

Got my coffee and I’m out of here. Hope peace and grace show up and sing you to sleep. Here we go, into another Wenzda. Cheers

A Dream of An Uncle

Don’t know what’s in my water. Dreams continue rolling through me. This one featured a deceased but appreciated and missed Uncle. Died of a brain tumor ’bout a decade ago or so. He was one of those people who always demonstrated belief in what I could do and pride in when I do things, a good person to have around when you’re young and feeling your way.

We were at a celebration. Seemed to be a family birthday party. My uncle was hosting. He was young, energetic, and charming, the perpetual image contained in my memories of him, sunglasses covering his eyes, teeth clamped on a cigar. Don’t know who the party was for. Seemed like cousins were there. Weird thing is, it seemed to be held in a Japan or Mexico.

It came time for the cake. That was prepared for a local bakery. My uncle asked if anyone could pay for it. Yes, I volunteered; I can. I scrambled to find the money, just $25. Impatiently, he left, and went to get the cake. Finding the money at last, I rushed after him, encountering him as he left the store. “I have the money,” I told him.

“Too late,” he replied. “I paid.”

He seemed sad, disappointed. I suggested that I could pay the shopkeeper and he could give my uncle his money back. The shopkeeper, watching and listening in this tiny establishment, agreed. No, my uncle decided. It’d be too complicated. What’s done is done.

End

Twozdaz Theme Music

Another cold morning, although that stuff is relative. Cold for us for December 2, 2025, is 32 F on awakening. Climbed to 39 F now. Been sunny and clear all morning on this frosty Twozda. Looking for a high in the low to mid 50s.

Read that Trump fired some immigration judges in New York. They’ve probably been following the law and ruling in accordance with same, following rules of evidence and procedures, and going by precedence. All that is a no-no in Trump’s alter reality where his rule is law in accordance with standard playground rules where he’s the bully who gets to say what’s what. Judges are suing him for wrongful termination, adding to his stress levels. COSTCO is also suing the Trump Regime for the tariffs. COSTCO ate the tariffs instead of passing them on; now they want Deceiving Donny’s regime to pay back the tariffs because they were illegally declared and collected. Besides that, TACO is still sweating out Epstein files details, faces declining popularity due to rising prices, persistent failures, has had his attorneys general declared illegal, lost some court cases, and is using words or doing things that are finally pushing Republicans to say, “Enough.” Glad they’re starting to catch up. The rest of us have been shouting, “Enough,” since 2016.

WordPress tells me my stats are booming! Again. This seems to happen every seven to ten days, starting a few months back. I suspect bots seeking commentary on Trump. Don’t know who’s sending the bots or what they’ll do with the information they collect. So far, it just intermittently drives up my traffic.

The music today comes by way of convo with my wife. This is in conjunction with discussing something we were talking about buying. As part of the conversation, there was discussion about driving to a place that’s not real close but not real far, you know? Far enough that it’ll take gas and time but not so far that we’d need to stay overnight. Anyway, in this day and age, the alternative is to go online. So it was a question of “Do we want to go all that way?” Yes, we are essentially lazy.

Anyway, catching the surface vibes, The Neurons responded with a song from the 1970s by a group called the Raspberries, “Go All the Way”. The conversation was late last night but the song is stuck in the morning mental music stream. Found an interesting video of the song being ‘performed’. Looked like a classic lip-syncing event on The Mike Douglas Show. Wow, remember it?

The vocalist is Eric Carmen. After the band broke up, he went on to a successful solo career. Remember “Hungry Eyes” and “All By Myself”? Same guy. He also co-wrote “Almost Paradise”. He died in 2024, 74 years old.

Got my coffee in me and it’s time to rock on. Peace and grace aren’t here yet, but it could be the cold keeping them away. Maybe if I travel to somewhere warmer, I’ll find them there. But I’m not up to a trip today. Here we go. Cheers

Old Friend in A Store: A Dream

I woke up with an old friend in mind.

Was he still alive?

Would he still be my friend?

We were high-school classmates. Graduated in 1974. I haven’t seen him since 1979, when I was home from the military. He was a good friend for the times, at the time. But we have all changed, haven’t we?

I dreamed I encountered Keith at a store. Don’t know what kind of store. We were both the young people we were in high school. Someone else was with him, hanging back in the shadows, behind him. I don’t know who they were. Keith told me he was running for office. I was very surprised. Keith, reserved, a little shy, with a sharp mind and a dry sense of humor, didn’t seem destined for politics. I asked why he was doing that. He gave me a detailed response about problems he’d had with several local businesses. He’d felt cheated but everything the businesses had done were legal, so he was running for office so he could change things. As he gave his response, he showed me his phone, where there were records and newspaper and media articles about the businesses and Keith’s issues. I said something about him using his phone as evidence. He replied, “Good lord, no. I have too much porn on it to ever show anyone my phone.”

Dream end.

Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

Sort of funny how we use the word charge and how its meanings has shifted.

We used to say things like, “Then he charged at me,” or, “That animal charged me.”

More often for a while, we heard charge in, “He was charged with the crime of soliciting,” or “He was charged with drunk driving.”

Later, charging things via credit cards were in vogue, such as, “I’m going to charge it for now, and then I’ll pay it off later.”

Now we say, “I didn’t charge my phone and now it’s almost dead. I have to find a charger.” Imagine hearing that forty years ago, if you’ve been alive that long. What were you charging in 1985?

Of course, imagine back in 1970 if someone asked you, “Do you have a laptop?” You’d think they were crazy, asking such a question.

C’est la vie.

A Dream of Cougars

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.

Fridaz Theme Music

When black Frida comes, it’ll be chilly, with limited, diluted sunshine in Ashlandia. This is November 28, 2025. Just a few more daz and the eleventh month of 2025 will be in the books. Meanwhile, it’s 43 F and a high of 55 F is hoped. Rain? WTH knows?

A little tomfloofery for your day is in the link. Click and enjoy this interaction between two species.

https://www.facebook.com/share/r/1D5u1AAETU

Today’s music was derived from looking out the window. I was visiting the back scene with Papi, gathering some sunshine against my face and gazing on the leaves on the ground. Dead and dying leaves passed through my thoughts. Instantly Les Neurons began a song in my morning mental music stream about dying leaves and dirty ground. The words were there along with pieces of melody and fragments of sound. What was missing were the title, performer, and the rest of the song. As it didn’t come to me, I took to technology to recover the rest. The answers: “Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground” by The White Stripes. I thought it a bit cruel of The Neurons to do that to me, trying to me think and remember when I hadn’t even had my coffee yet. Sometimes, I swear, I don’t know what gets into The Neurons.

We had a delightful Friendsgiving, meeting a few new people and visiting with a dozen and a half friends. The food was its usual delicious, the standard for these outings. Standard and straightforward T Day offerings but with organic stuff, vegan offerings, and gluten-free choices.

We chatted briefly about politics. “We ain’t buying it,” was chatted up. We also discussed “A House of Dynamite”, a movie about potential nuclear way now playing on Netflix. One wonders how the Dizzy Donny Regime would respond to detection of an incoming ICBM, given that Donny cut the head off the senior military ranks, replacing them with people more politically reliable to Donny but less experienced. Some had even retired at lesser ranks and were returned to service to take up new positions. Not reassuring.

Hope you had a decent Thirstda. Now out and onward. Cheers

Thirstdaz Theme Music

We’re again into the territory in the United States called ‘Thanksgiving’ or ‘Thanksgiving Day’. Shrouded with mythology, embedded in gluttony, wrapped with consumerism, T-day has become complicated for many in the U.S. My wife can’t stand the holiday but participates instead in an annual Friendsgiving. It’s just Thanksgiving with a different label. The essence of gathering and eating is unchanged. For the record, my spouse despises Thanksgiving for the cruelty to animals done in its name, and for the celebration of overeating done while so many go wanting. I respect her opinions. For me, Thanksgiving is filled with nostalgia. Mom loved cooking and feeding her family and having us all together. That’s when she was always at her best. So I have great memories of those times. Later, as I rose in rank, we always opened our door to younger military members and shared Thanksgiving with them. Plenty of good memories swirl around those days, too. So, it’s complicated. Let me put this to you: I’ve thankful for what I have and what I had. I’m hopeful that we can create a world where accumulating wealth and power will finally give way to keeping us all healthy and safe, regardless of holiday, nation, or any of the many qualifications too many people attach to who they’re willing to help.

For Thanksgiving in Ashlandia, the weather is complicated but typical. Sunny with blue skies and clouds. Rain might show up later. Temp hovering around 50 F may get up to 58 F. Average and complicated. This is Thirstda, November 27, 2025.

Thoughts of home and reflections about last night’s dreams prompted The Neurons to bring up “Can’t Find My Way Home”. This Blind Faith song came out well over fifty years ago. It still feels right. I went with a cover with Steve Winwood and Tom Petty. Hope you give it a listen.

Funny to read this story this morning:

Trump VP’s old tweet comes back to haunt him

A four-year-old social media post from now-Vice President J.D. Vance has resurfaced online, putting him under fresh scrutiny.

~snip~

In 2016, Vance was openly critical of Trump’s candidacy and at one point referred to him as “America’s Hitler,” a remark that has repeatedly resurfaced since he joined the ticket.

~snip~

Then comes another headline in the story:

A complicated history between Trump and Vance

Nothing complicated about it. Vance sold out for money, power, and position, and willingly and eagerly advanced Trump’s lies to advance himself. In short, Vance demonstrated he lacks principles. Simplest story in the world. Vance isn’t an exception. We’ve seen this with multiple Republicans. After disparaging Trump, they’ve united behind him and stand with him, except for a few outliers, as this 2016 WaPo story attests.

The tortured things GOP Senate candidates have said about Donald Trump, to date

Hope your Thanksgiving provides something for you to be thankful for, and they you enjoy a good, a good month, a good coming year. May peace and grace find us today and every day. Cheers

Twozdaz Wandering Thoughts

The coffee shop is pretty damn full.

I’m in RoCo. It’s my new favorite coffee place, an old house converted to a business on the corner of 8th Avenue and East Main Street.

Every table is in use. Many regulars are in attendance. Like me, at a table, computer open. My eyes and ears are open even as I read, think, and type. Wonderful community and social energies swirl through the room like a strong, happy breeze. I love the noise and action, enjoy looking up at the faces, glancing at the fashion.

Most clients are, ahem, ‘my age’. They look like, ahem, boomers, like me. I’ll be seventy next year. I think I’m in the middle of the age spectrum here. Sure, there are so younger outliers. Teenagers who look like they’re wearing colorful fleece pajamas come in as pairs, order, take their stuff and leave. A few twenty-somethings, thirtyish, and fortyish folks are partaking of drink and food, chatting with others, reading, so forth. Hoka shoes are spotted on many, the shoes of my people. Columbia sportwear and Patagonia dominates. They’re the clothes of my tribe, but this is Oregon, where some of that stuff is produced, and where Columbia is headquartered, up north, west of Portland. Two children, about ten, are also present with an older woman. The children are on ice cream on this chilly, foggy, autumn day. The weather doesn’t daunt them from enjoying a cold but sweet treat.

The baristas take orders, prepare, and serve, all laughing and chatting as they do. Regulars come in and get greeted by name, including Sugar the dog, who waves their tail in happiness and await their standard treat.

Sunshine has burst through outside. Cold air storms me as the doors open and close. This is the United States, Oregon, Ashlandia, in 2025.

Sundaz Theme Music

White frost inks the grass and bare mulch. Sunda, 23 November 2025, is seeing another morning of fog and a temp of 32 F. Walking around yesterday, a distinct wintry essence infiltrated the air. Snow felt imminent. But now sunshine is spreading, lighting up a blue sky. The temperature has crept up to 39 F. 66 F is possible before night takes it all down again.

Today’s song is “Sunshine”, a 1971 Jonathan Edwards song. Though I know the lyrics and melody well, I looked up the song writer and performer. I haven’t heard the song in years that I know. It overwhelmed the morning mental music stream, introduced in there by The Neurons when I happened to look out a window and say, “Look, sunshine!” That’s how Der Neurons roll.

The song’s lyrics always intrigue me. It seems like a song of defiance and hope mixing it up with grumbling, determination, and impulsiveness.

Sunshine, go away today
Don’t feel much like dancin’
Some man’s gone, he tried to run my life
He don’t know what he’s askin’

Well, he tells me I better get in line
I can’t hear what he’s sayin’
When I grow up, I’m gonna make it mine
These ain’t dues that I’ve been payin’

How much does it cost? I’ll buy it
Time is all we’ve lost, I’ll try it
He can’t even run his own life
Be damned if he’ll run mine

How much does it cost? I’ll buy it
Time is all we’ve lost, I’ll try it
He can’t even run his own life
Be damned if he’ll run mine

Working starts to make me wonder where
All that I do is going
He says in love and war all is fair
He’s got cards that he ain’t showing

How much does it cost? I’ll buy it
Time is all we’ve lost, I’ll try it
He can’t even run his own life
Be damned if he’ll run mine

Sunshine, come on back another day
I promise you I’ll be singing
This old world, she’s gonna turn around
Brand new bells’ll be ringing

Songwriters: Rodney Jerkins, Lashawn Daniels, Leendert Bolier, Cheryl Elizabeth Gamble, Johan Jacobse, Freddie D Iii Jerkins, Frederik D Freek Geuze.

We’re mock laughing in our household about brave Marjorie Taylor Greene. Oh, she’s resigning from Congress…in January, after her retirement benefits are won. What a deal! That will let this former MAGA star suckle off the public for the rest of her life. She also made a ton o’ cash with stock trading during her years of public service. Meanwhile, she’ll probably plop into some fat gig as media star commenting on current events, and we’ll be stuck with her for years as she pops up, trying to be relevant and insightful. Meanwhile, whenever she speaks, someone will say, “MTG is still alive? I thought she died years ago.”

Public service. Pays well for some, working for We the People. Just ask Trump. He’s certainly doing well, financially, as he craters the nation, starves people, and struts around bleating about how great he is, backing up his assertions with outright lies. Word is, it’s catching up with him, judging from polls and confidence indexes. As he crows about how popular he is, the number of people saying they disapprove of him, his regime, the economy, and the nation’s direction, are all climbing.

Peace and grace haven’t answered my invite. Hope they answer yours and show for us soon. Meanwhile, pour a cuppa and sit, read the news, think and sigh. Here we go. Cheers

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