Frida’s Theme Music

And then, it was over as fast as it started. We’ve been on vacation. Florence, on the Oregon coast. Sunshine baked us across blue skies and light winds. Baked is relative. Temps only crossed into the sixties once. But when you’re not expecting sunshine, a wealth of it can feel skin melting. In a good way.

This morning, Frida, May 2, 2025, was our final day. Gone was the blue sky. Withered sunshine made little effort to offset the cold air. A light drizzle was falling by 9:30 AM. It amused me; last time that we stayed on the coast, we had a similar experience. I joked at that time, the sky was crying because we were leaving.

We had an update on Papi. Joanne, our traditional flooftender had taken on duties. Much easier when it’s just one floof. We used to have five.

Papi has always been skittish and standoffish. Wary. So we wore concern on our thoughts for his welfare while we were away. Lovely to hear from Joanne before we left the coast this morning that Papi was an absolute sweetheart. Either there and waiting for her when she arrived each morning and night, or immediately turning up when she called him. The Orange Boi was very pleased to see us and looks good.

Terrible news came to me by way of my sister. You may have heard about the windstorms that cut through part of the U.S. a few days ago. Mom’s house in Penn Hills, a Pittsburgh, PA, suburb, took on some damages. 100 year old trees were uprooted or lost substantial branches. The side porch was torn away, along with the roof to the tool shed. Fallen trees and branches conspired to keep vehicles from traversing the road. She lost electricity. Their phones were almost dead with no way to recharge them. Food in the frig and freezer was lost. Super sister sent her awesome hubby to check on them and discovered their state. Super hubby is a plumber and has friends and relatives in associated professionals. He soon had people over there clearing trees and writing estimates, others bringing by power banks to recharge their phones, electricians to assess the problems. While many things were addressed, Mom still lacks electrical power. Fortune did keep them safe and uninjured but it must have been a few traumatic days for this elderly couple, 89 and 95 years old.

Into the morning men..tal music stream today came Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble performing “Crossfire”. It’s one of SRV’s later efforts. A solid rocker, less bluesy than most of SRV & DT, I enjoy it. My wife is more of a purist and dislikes the song.

Politics had a part slotting it into my MMMS. The Neurons thought after reading about the quid pro quo nature of the Trusk Regime that “Crossfire” was ideal theme music for this second day of May. The song rhetorically inquires, “Whatever happened to the golden rule?” I believe that PINO Trusk has monetized it, along with every other thing in the U.S. He wasn’t alone in his efforts. Too many of us were far to willing to go along.

Back home now, we picked up some dinner and ate it. Unpacked all luggage. Washed the vacation clothes. Folded them and put them back into drawers and closets. Now we’re just resting and recovering from being away from home.

Hope your day has been spirited with happiness or at least some modicum of joy. If not, tomorrow is another chance. Cheers

Bye

The lazy river waters silently glide by

Bird wings catch light and flash as they fly by

Time drifts slowly as the day goes by

Thoughts and plans meander as ideas come by

New memories and hopes form as life passes by

Other times and places are recalled with a soft good bye

Thirstda’s Theme Music

Thirstda is here! Thirstda is here! Yep, it’s finally Thirstda. If this is Thirstda, it must be May 1, 2025. Get ready to set your clocks back a little more under PINO Trump’s agenda.

Isn’t it special of Trump to make light of the potential pain people face with higher prices? Reducing the situation to a comparison of children’s dolls. “They’ll only have two instead of thirty.” So out of touch with reality and anyone below the wealthy class. It’s more like, they’ll only have one meal instead of two. Put less gas in the car. Go to bed hungry. Pass on eating to pay medication. Pause on buying needed medications to purchase the most needed medication. Make down with worn out clothes and shoes.

Sure, some are better off than that. But they’ll go out less often. Purchase less expensive meals. Perhaps skip desserts or drinks. Go to less expensive places. Drop some streaming services.

Trump doesn’t know. He lives in a bubble. Has for years. He’ll golf and make speeches and sign more unconstitutional E.O.s. Pretend that it’s all going great. And if it isn’t feed the continuing need to look good by passing on the buck. Blame others. Blame previous administrations. His cult slurp it up with a straw. Plastic, of course. Because he doesn’t think all that plastic in our bodies or in the ocean, all that plastic in landfills and killing animals, is a problem at all. He’s just too ignorant to know. But then again, more ignorant folks voted him in. He was going to ‘shake up the status quo’. He spoke to them. And many of them are still happy with him. They like the chaos. They enjoy how Trump takes it to the libs. They admire how he’s ‘making America strong again’ by wrecking the economy and thumbing his nose at the world.

Today’s music is “The Monster”. Yeah, that is Trump inspired. The Neurons are thinking of the offering by Eminem with Rhianna. “I’m friends with the monster under my bed. I’m friends with the monster that’s under my bed. Get along with the voices inside of my head. You’re tryin’ to save me, stop holding your breath. And you think I’m crazy, yeah, you think I’m crazy.”

That’s pegged with those people who shake their heads and tell me that I just can’t see how well Trump is doing. But I’ll see, they tell me. I’ll see when Trump announces new deals with all of those countries calling him and begging him for deals. I’ll see when we’re all swimming in wealth.

Yeah, we’ll see.

Here’s the mental morning music stream sound. Have a fresh day. I’m after a fresh cuppa coffee, myself. It’s clear, quiet and calm down here at the water’s edge. 54 F with a high of 66 F coming. Later, gators.

Wenzda’s Theme Music

It’s days of sunshine for us here on the coast. That’s our river view from our room in Old Town Florence. Only 58 F, a sea breeze keeps the heat load down. But the view was almost forever. S’posed to be better tomorrow, as clear and sunny as today but with a high of 66 F.

Reminder: this is Wenzda, April 30, 2025. A new month lands on us tomorrow.

Today’s morning mental music stream is technically an afternoon offering. I was out somewhere today. ‘Up’ in Yachats because it’s north of here. At a park, looking out at the sunny Pacific. I heard a woman tell her child, “Stay in the middle.” That triggered a collision among The Neurons. From the pileup came a song by Ambrosia, “How Much I Feel”, from 1978. That’s all because there’s a line from the song: “So you try, try to stay in the middle.” The Neurons just stacked from there. Not really my style of song. I was surprised when my rocker buddy, Randy, used to go into that thinking and singing to self zone whenever this song came on. He enjoyed Boston and Van Halen. This song, however, had been part of his life with his wife before their divorced. It always forced another time on his present when it played.

Randy passed away two decades ago. Before Trump’s arrival on the political thing. Randy never liked Democrats. Despised Bill Clinton. Watched a lot of Fox News. I’m afraid he would have been a MAGA. So, in reflection, it’s probably best he passed away before this political era got its hooks into him.

Coffee has been consumed. And pastries. Lunch, etc. Hope your day is a great new page in another chapter of your existence. Here we go. Cheers

Sunda’s Theme Music

Chilly. Rainy. Foggy. Those were yesterday’s descriptors. It didn’t get to anywhere near the theoretical high of 51 F around my zone of life.

Today is sunny. Windy. Warmer. 52 F. Clouds and blue sky mingle like it’s a company holiday party. The high will be 62 F.

Today is Sunda, April 27, 2025.

My wife and I are setting up for a trip to the coast. Our usual house sitter is available. Reservations have been made. We have worries. This will be Papi’s first time being alone. He knows the house sitter. Doesn’t run from her. Let’s her pet him. But with spring pointing toward summer, the wildlife has grown busier. Raccoons come by. Coyotes, bears, cougars are out there, along with opossums and skunks. Rats and mice. We’ll set things up as best as we can and cross our fingers.

Today’s music is “Bloody Well Right”. 1974 song. Supertramp. I was singing it to myself after different topics traversed the sticky gray zone this morning that I call thinking. Not much of it was of import. Just the usual forays into novel writing, fiction I’m reading, cat, family and personal matters, health, politics, news, government, dreams, and memories. I’ve been experiencing a wealth of dreams, for instance. What does it all mean? And I’ve set up a dental appointment for some overdue work. Then there’s house repairs. Call to Dad. Text to Mom. Mother’s Day card and gift. Flowers, candy, food, or…what? It’s all underlined by what is perceived as a time of drastic change in the country.

Coffee is singing its songs to my cells. Sunshine is shining. Plans are underfoot. So is the cat. Hope you have an awesomely solid day, devoid of crises and problems, and maybe with some good food. Here we go.

Cheers

Saturda’s Theme Music

Papi cat is not happy. I know this because of the shouting meows. Not just the sound. He faces me and leans into it. Stretches his jaws wide. He’s Maria Callas using his diaphragm to belt it out.

“I know,” I tell him.

Rain fell all night. Sometimes in buckets. Papi is not a friend of rain. We also re-installed the pet door. In days past, Tucker slept on the mat in front of the pet door. That meant no other animal was entering. With Tucker gone, we decided the food bowls needed to be moved further away.

Background is, we had a buncha cats at one point. They usually didn’t get along. So we had three feeding stations. One in each the laundry room, the office, and the bedroom. In the bedroom, the feeding station lives by the wall beside the sliding door where the pet door resides. We thought it needed to be moved further away so that some passing animal didn’t sniff the kibble richness and come in through the pet door. Since Tucker is no longer guarding the pet door.

But all that change has Papi irritated. Pour the rain on top and he feels that the world is a cruel and injust place.

“I know,” I tell him. “I had to change my diet due to high blood pressure. It sucks.”

“Meyeah,” Papi wailed back.

Yes, it has rained all night. It’s wet and chilly this morning. 44 F and rain. The high will be 51 F and rain. The low will be 41 F and rain. The rain is good for the land, we remind each other. The pep in our pep talks is petering out, though. Everyone wants sunshine until they don’t. Then we want rain. Until we don’t. It’s the cycle of complaint. Weather version.

This is Saturda. April 26, 2025. Still spring in Ashlandia. And typical Ashlandia spring weather.

I’m a little miffed. I had yard plans. I’d been making progress. The rain has placed a pause on the cause. I can’t do the things planned, cause rain and electric power equipment. I’ve read somewhere that they are not a good combination.

I’m happy it’s Saturday. The news cycle slows on the weekends. News doesn’t stop but less people are reporting and airing it. Much as I’d like a break from it, we need to stay vigilant against the Trusk Regime’s evil. That evil goes 24/7. Just when you think their empathy has bottomed, they show a lower side. Most recently, they deported a two-year US citizen. Because, Trump. He no like the 16th Amendment. So he decided to ignore it. Because that’s what you do if you dislike laws. It’s the Trump U.S.A. way.

Snark alert: The other ‘good’ news is that the number of measles cases keep rising. Looks like RFK Jr’s plans just can’t get an angle on stopping it. Probably because he eschews using science and medicine.

Final bit of irritating news. Trump says he’s talking to China about the tariffs. China says, “No, he isn’t.” Either side could be lying. Given Trump’s record, I believe it’s him. Trump is lying. Yet again.

Puttering through the kitchen at pre-coffee speed, The Neurons raised a line in my head. “Let me remember things I don’t know.” I further slowed. I know the line. That wasn’t the line. That was a mondegreen: a misunderstood song line. Urging The Neurons into more effort, the song and real line punched in:

“Let me remember things I love, Lord.” CCR. “Green River”.

Coffee has made a safe landing in my body. Dressed, fed, and caffeinated, I am re-animated for another day. Hope you have a day that works in your favorite. It can happen. Cheers

Twosda’s Wandering Thoughts

Time for some first world blues. I’m in the coffee shop. Music is playing. Business is booming and the baristas are scrambling, shouting out order details, clarifications, comments. Machines grind, hiss, and whirl with energy. Other customers are set up to chat, read, type. Conversations rise and fall.

Above it all is a man with a baritone theater voice. He’s on his cell phone. Although he’s across the room from me, his voice echos above all other sounds. Maybe it’s a matter of acoustics. He’s calling to different businesses to make purchases and complaints. He’s pedantic but polite. His first three calls are flavored with a condescending attitude toward the people on the other end.

“Do you have my email address?” he asks again and again.

“You have a screen in front of you, don’t you?” he asks. “Look at the screen. Does it have an email address? What is that email address for me? And my phone number. No, this is what you should have. 541111111.” This is repeated. “Yes, it’s seven ones in a row after the area code.”

I respect that it could be worse. I could be at home, typing on my computer, responding to my wife and cat, becoming annoyed with them. I could be trapped in an airport, waiting for a delayed flight, or in traffic somewhere, wondering why traffic isn’t moving. I could be sweating it out with an injury or disease, or fretting over a loved one’s health. I could be poor and homeless, hunting for a meal and a little relief from the elements.

I’m normally effective at filtering sounds out of my awareness. His voice and conversations are just one of those things annoying me today. That’s my problem, though.

That’s why I rant.

Twosda’s Theme Music

At 4:07 AM, the cat announced, “Let’s go!” Yes, he batted and chatted me awake enough to sleep walk to the door and release him back into the wild. He didn’t stay in the wild long. Cold, wind, and hunger drove him back in. “Not that wild, are you?” I asked him. He meowed back.

Thus began Twosda, April 22, 2025, much as many other days begin. Twosda and Thirstdas are the worse for me in this regard. My wife gets up early on Mun-Wen-Fri to attend exercise class. She deals with the cat between 6:30 and 8 AM on those days. But today has Papi testing the limits, in and out. I suspect he has two twins and they’re taking turns at this.

It was 39 F at 4:30 AM. If you trust Alexa. I asked it the temperature after Papi came back in. I was curious because it felt cold to my half-naked body. Like Sun & Mun, today features a clear blue-sky sauce and a glaze of sunshine with a tincture of wind and mild temperatures that lose their punch in the mid to upper sixties.

Trump continues to pile instability on instability, crazy on crazy, losses on losses. Like all great leaders, he sets ridiculous goals using ideologically-driven data, fails to take many details and factors into account, and then pretends it’s going great as everyone else prepares to get out the toilet plunger because this shit is overwhelming the crapper. He is consistently terrible and proud of it. Living in a Teflon-coated bubble, he’ll probably never recognize his insanity and the disastrous, negative impact he delivered to millions of people.

Unless, of course, his secret goal is to completely undermine and destroy the United States. That’s also possible. He could well be in collusion with Russian and oil oligarchs and are busy setting the table up to establish a powerful global cabal. Makes as much sense as any other shit he spreads.

They say that the Roberts Court is finally getting a backbone. “They’ll reign Trump in.” Ha. I think Trump is already smirking at the Roberts Court as he says, “Hold my Big Mac.” Harvard and other universities are suing the Trusk Regime. He doesn’t care. He’s already destabilized and disrupted our education systems and research programs. A third of the national NOAA weather offices have lost their leases. We’ll see what that does to the ability to warn about weather disasters. Then, Trump and Noem have been dismantling FEMA, so when these disaster squat on communities and drop a load, the state and community will struggle to recover and rebuild. Meanwhile, DOGE is raiding personal data and will probably weaponize that on behalf of Russia. He’s truncated international alliances and friendships that effectively worked for over half a century, isolating our nation. Besides all that, he’s been running due process over with a golf court.

And Trump and his supporters think this is just great. Anyway…onward.

When I first heard this Led Zeppelin song when I was thirteen, I thought, holy fucking shit. That was a startling development because I’d never sworn before that. That’s when I took up coffee, too. It all seemed to go together.

The song — “How Many More Times” — is in my morning mental music stream for reasons which The Neurons have sealed. They have better security than Kristi Noem and keep secrets more effectively than Pet (Pete) Hegseth. Not saying much, given how terrible and sloppy the Trump Regime has demonstrated itself to be, outside of the Musk-driven DOGE dogs.

Here is the music. When I listened to it today, my inner thirteen-year-old sat up and said, “Holy fucking shit.” This is a recording of a live show. Anyone familiar with Zep knows it’s gonna be a jam and will vary a bit from what was on the album.

Coffee has again insinuated itself into my body’s systems. I’m prepared to rock another day, at least until nap time later today. Hope your day is as purpose-filled as you need it. Carpe diem. Cheers

Munda’s Theme Music

My body and mind were unanimous. More sleep was wanted. Yesterday was busy with an Easter Brunch. We’d been preparing all week. 10:15, we set off to go help with setup. By 11:30, all were there. A smorgasbord awaited. Mexican quiche, salmon with asparagus, salmon and cream cheese rolls. Dutch babies and lemon cake for dessert. Salads. Juices and libation to make it chippier. Easter egg hunt and korn hole. A half dozen present shared their latest stories about demonstrating against Trump in Ashland and Medford. 2 PM, it was all over.

Over to a friend’s house for his 93rd birthday. Just family and my wife and I. He has health issues and didn’t want a gathering. After singing the birthday song, witnessing the candle blowout, and visiting for two hours, we headed home to unpack and wash everything.

Blue skies were the day’s order. Light wind kept it from becoming too warm. 69 F was the tops. Today seems like it looked over yesterday’s shoulder and copied the weather.

I reminded my body and mind that sleeping in wasn’t an option. Today is Food & Friends deliveries. Crank up the car, pick up the food, and roll through the streets on route 3 to knock on doors and ring bells and drop off a small meal in southeastern Ashlandia. I’m the driver; my wife makes the deliveries.

Then, finally, it’ll be back to writing at the coffee shop for a few hours, and then home to wash clothes and attend yard work. The grass and weeds are gladded by the sunshine. It’s all shooting up fast.

Papi is beside himself with happiness by the time the air warms. It’s rolled up to 49 F now. He heads outside and sniffs out the sunshine. Then wind sniffs him out and he’s back in. It’s a never-ending game of ‘In & Out’!

The mountain air loads the night with temperatures that dribble down into the mid thirties. That temp feels colder. But we’re on the regular Ashlandia spring track. Only troubling thing is we’re not seeing any bees. They’re normally all over the place with their buzzing presence. Their absence disturbs.

Yesterday’s Easter Trump dump again illuminated his pathetic ways. That vitriol and lie-filled text mess is a sign of an insecure, demented, ignorant person. Trump’s dark forces again rose to show what a sinister and ugly place the United States is becoming under his hand as two young and wholly innocent German tourists were detained and deported, all for the crime of not having accommodations already reserved. Such fools are now in charge. Then there’s Trump’s undocumented bullshit broadside against Abrego Garcia. WTF, United States. Is this truly your vision?

With those thoughts spinning through my groovy organic thought machine, The Neurons spun up Aerosmith in the morning mental music stream: “Same Old Song and Dance”. Last time I used this ditty was in 2019. Trump occupied the White House then. I wrote back on that day,

Reading the news yesterday and today, I was shaking my head, partially laughing while crying. You know, it was the same old story.

That led to me streaming Aerosmith.

It’s the same old story
Same old song and dance, my friend
It’s the same old story
Same old story
Same old song and dance

It was an easy song to identify with when I was a teenager and the song was released. When you asked questions, you often heard, “That’s just how it is. That’s how it goes.” It was always the same old song and dance, no matter what you were asked.

So here we go. Trump is attacking and bullying whatever he can — law, courts, common sense, history, morality, it’s all open to a Trump attack. He’s like a puppy gnawing on clothes, shoes, and furniture. Nothing is safe from his brainless chewing. A puppy does far less damage, though. A puppy will grow out of it. Trump, with his deteriorating and aging mental capacity, will get worse.

Same ol’ story, same ol’ song and dance.

Have the best day you can, my friend. Fueled with coffee, I’ll rock on for another day, it seems. Cheers

The Learning Dream

My wife and I were at a pool. I somehow got involved in a swimming class. Others were doing it. There was a white cloth or panel on the pool’s bottom. Our guidance was to take a deep breath, dive to the bottom, get the item, swim to the other side of the pool and surfaced.

My wife laughed. “He’s a really strong swimmer. He’ll do that without trying.”

I did. I’m not a strong swimmer but I’m good at holding my breath.

After doing that on the first attempt, they set me loose in free-practice to keep getting better.

Next, we moved inside. Now I was helping with some kind of television or streaming shopping channel. I was to write on a piece of cardboard and then slid the info forward so some announcer could see it. The info was being given to me by another person, and I was to keep writing the new price as it came in and show it.

Well, I screwed it up the first two times. I did well the third time, and then the people told me to keep practicing. I did for a while and then someone came by and told me I had a new assignment. This involved reading textbooks. The assignment confused me. “I’m just supposed to read them all? Will there be tests?” Yes, I’m to read them all, astounding me. A large range of topics were included. Stacks of books awaited my eyes. And yes, I would be tested.

I began that assignment and was startled about how fast I discovered I could read and learn. After four of five books, I was just fanning the pages. Witnessing this, my wife chastised me. “You’re supposed to be learning this.” I laughed back. “I am. Give me a book. I’ll read it and you can ask me questions, and I’ll answer them.”

She gave me a book. I read it. She asked me three questions, and I answered them all.

Another instructor arrived. I was being taken to a new class. The instructor said, “In this class, you’ll be taught how to use energy to change things.” I asked, “What kind of things will I be able to change?”

She answered, “Wait and see.”

The dream ended as a cat tapped my hand and meowed.

It was a very uplifting and energizing dream.

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