Friday’s Theme Music — Ignored

Ashland, southern Oregon. Friday, August 21, 2026.

It’s a cool 75 F under cloudy skies right now. Looks like it could rain but rain is not in our forecast. Today’s high is expected to be 90, ten degrees lower than what we saw yesterday.

Mom is really down right now. She feels trapped and ignored, and that’s very understandable.

Mom texted me that her PCP told her she looks tired and old. Mom’s claim; don’t know if that’s what the doctor said. Mom also texted me, “I don’t want to see another birthday,” “Why won’t God let me die,” and “I don’t want a memorial service when I die. I don’t want anything.”

Mom, to me, always depended upon the structure of routines and schedules. Now her aging, medical issues, and medications has fractured her norms. She used to use cleaning as an outlet to stay on track, along with writing copious notes on her calendar about what was going on: children’s schedules and visits, appointments, bills due and paid, house and car maintenance. Those mechanisms are gone, too. She’s being told one to sleep, eat, and socialize, and she doesn’t like it. Additionally, she and her daughters who live closest to her have a huge emotional schism relating to their lives together and Mom’s choices.

Mom reacts to the gap with anger; the sisters react to Mom’s anger with more distance.

It’s like a self-fulfilling doom loop.

The closing for the sale of Mom’s house is next Tuesday at 5 PM. I texted Mom to ensure she was aware.

She didn’t respond.

Without real surprise, I see that Trump is encouraging the construction of AI and data centers. Backlash against AI/data centers is growing across the United States, creating an ideological trap for Donald Trump.

Part of this is that these types of sites take up land, water, and electricity, but nothing tangible that can be held in your hand emerges from it.

The other part of the trap is that the corporations often demand huge tax breaks and subsidies for the privilege of building there, and the locals are not usually consulted. That pisses them off, because nobody is listening to them. That was exactly the angry and emotional fodder Trump used as fuel to win their votes; he was speaking for them, ‘telling them like it is’.

Now, as others have done, Trump is ignoring them.

And it’s happening on the cusp of the midterm elections.

Those of us who understand who Trump is aren’t surprised. He used MAGA to achieve political power. Then he used that political power to enrich himself. Now he’s using it to further enrich the ultra-wealthy. There are no surprises there, if you’ve been paying attention.

Trump is breeding discontented supporters. They won’t vote for Democrats — “Never Democrats” is probably one of their most repeated mantras — but they won’t come out and vote for Trump, either.

All this thinking has The Neurons playing “Everybody Hurts” by R.E.M in my morning mental music stream. When people feel ignored, they hurt. Released in 1993, the song was written about and for teenagers and what they endure. I think it’s sensibilities are more universal than that.

Sample Lyrics

When your day is long
And the night, the night is yours alone
When you’re sure you’ve had enough
Of this life, well hang on

Don’t let yourself go
‘Cause everybody cries
Everybody hurts sometimes

Sometimes everything is wrong
Now it’s time to sing along

When your day is night alone (hold on, hold on)
If you feel like letting go (hold on)
If you think you’ve had too much
Of this life, well hang on

‘Cause everybody hurts
Take comfort in your friends
Everybody hurts

May you prosper today, enjoying peace, joy, and happiness. Hopefully, you won’t feel ignored or alone.

Cheers

The Corporate Merger Dream

I was working –

Though I can’t say where or for who, nor anything like that. Wasn’t anything out of real life.

I was a mid-level manager, mostly working alone. Our corporation was merging with another, a larger one. Although it was labeled a merger, the partner would subsume our company.

I’d ended up providing some important information to make it happen, things which were requested at the last minute. I’d worked fast, long, hard, alone, to make that happen.

Now the merger was taking place.

I went outside. Early dusk was falling over a spare, sort of rocky desert landscape with spiky green plants, along with some thick, squat bushes. Meandering out there, I spotted a wolf.

It saw me.

I cautiously moved back. The wolf closed on me. I moved slowly. As the wolf came closer, I saw it was a husky.

The husky and I regarded each other around bushes, wary and curious. I drifted back into work.

Celebrations about the merger were beginning. Cake was being serves, which was fashioned after NFL teams. My cake was based on the Steelers and had black frosting.

I ate my cake and enjoyed it, then wandered. Speeches were being made. The CEO walked by to make a speech, pausing to slap me on the shoulder and say hello to me.

I moved on, encountering a pair of young men. They were by a pipe. Light lime green water gushed out of the pipe into a large square bright metal pan. The two men sat by it watching. One said to me, “They were asking who you were.”

“Do you mean me?” I responded.

“Yes, they were asking, who are you?”

“Did they mean me or you? I think the know who I am.”

“The new people wanted to know who you were because you were mentioned a few times. They wondered why.”

Shrugging that off, I went back outside to the same landscape. As I walked, I saw orange stripped cats doing different things. A clowder of dark gray kittens were playing at another place. I wondered where the husky was and if the cats were safe.

Dream end.

Thursday’s Theme Music — Little Things

Ashland, southern Oregon. Thursday, August 20, 2026.

Buckle up: supposed to be hot today, 100F. High small puffy clouds dot the blue sky. The sun feels like someone turned it up to eleven. Although it’s only 71, the ‘feels like’ is 85 F.

Spent time this morning on Watch Duty reviewing the state of wildfires in Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Nevada, and California. A depressing exercise.

Still waiting for Mom’s house to close. Gina, my sister who now oversee Mom’s finances, was complaining about how much Mom spent on Amazon on lipstick, diapers, clothes, shoe polish, and other things. Gina wanted me to tell Mom about how much money Gina thought Mom is wasting.

I said no. Not doing it. Bought Mom an Amazon gift card instead, to help her with these expenses. Mom doesn’t have much of a life these days, and now you’re pressing to nickel and dime her?

We’re into some deep WTF territory with Trump this week as he went on about flagpoles.

To be fair, his flagpole riff seemed a lot like his grass riff. He does love to declare himself an expert, knowing more than anyone, about many things.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Trump did pay $100K for these flagpoles last year. But then the servant of We the People could afford it, as he raked in $3B for his first year in office. 100K/3,000,000K = .003%

Trump is so generous, right? Especially since We the People paid about $100M for Trump’s golfing in 2025.

Trump’s gift of ‘most magnificent’ flagpoles and flags celebrated at the White House

I label the flagpoles another cheap installment of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! Trump bloviates about flagpoles as gas prices climb again. Diesel prices have jumped 15 cents to $5.47 per gallon, which adds to the cost of transporting just about everything.

But do please tell us more about the shape of your flagpole, Donald Trump.

People should know Trump is saying these things and quit treating him like he’s stable or a genius. He’s a criminal, head of a criminal enterprise. They need to wake up to that but probably won’t until Trump steals them blind.

All these things — big and little — Trump does stack up into one large mess.

I ended up with “Little Things” by Bush in my morning mental music stream. Released in 1995, it was all about how little things add up to dwarf your sense of self and what is possible.

Sample Lyrics

The river is loaded, I’ve been there today
Took it some questions, she does me again
I’d die in your arms if you were dead too
Here comes a lie, we will always be true

Going up when coming down
Scratch away-way-way-way-way

It’s the little things that kill
Tearin’ at my brain again
Oh, the little things that kill
The little things that kill

Bigger you give, bigger you get
We’re boss at denial but best at forget
The cupboard is empty, we really need food
Summer is winter and you always knew

Going up when coming down
Scratch away-way-way-way-way

It’s the little things that kill
Tearin’ at my brains again
Oh, the little things that kill
Tearin’ at my brains again

Yeah, it’s the little things that kill. Trump — and more importantly, the masterminds behind him, Heritage Foundation and Project 2025 — knows this.

May you surmount the little things with peace and grace today and every day.

Cheers

Wednesday’s Theme Music — Frank Beard

Ashland, southern Oregon. Wednesday, August 19, 2026.

August is moving on slow as molasses for me. I’m okay with that.

The claim is that it’ll be 96 F today. Forecasts yesterday said we’d hit 95 but we were four short of that. It’s 68 outside with high clouds clotting across the blue sky.

Our fingers are crossed that Mom’s house will finally close today. The buyers are using a grant to buy. The involved realtors say that the grant review and approval process has significantly slowed this year. It’s a federal program. A large part of me wonders if the Trump administration with its personnel cutbacks is responsible.

I’m not going to go into news and politics much on this post today. Writing a separate post on them.

I’m dedicating this instead to ZZ Top and Frank Beard. ZZ Top is an American rock band which had a heavy blues influence in its early years. They were a trio: Billy Gibbons, Dusty Hill, and Frank Beard. I started listening to them in high school. Saw them in concert a few times. Now only Billy Gibbons, lead vocalist, guitar, and song writer remains as Frank Beard, 77, joined Dusty Hill in that big gig in the otherworld.

I basically divide ZZ Top’s sound into two eras. In their early years was that blues sound. Multiple favorite songs hang with me from that period. For today, I’ll go with “La Grange” and “Jesus Left Chicago”.

The second period moved ZZ Top more into commercial mainstream pop. They became phenomenally successful. My preferred sound from that era was “Sharp Dressed Man”, which my wife and I liked to sing as ‘short, fat man’.

So here we go, into the morning mental music stream. May your day be blessed with happy memories of good music and good times, and optimism for our future.

Cheers

Almost Bookends

My sister, Gina, sent some photos out to the family this morning. They’re almost bookends of Mom’s adult life.

This is Mom with her first born, my older sister, Debby.

This is actually a photo of a photo that hung on the wall. Mom is 19.

Here is Mom with me and my wife at Mom’s house about twenty years ago, in much happier times for Mom.

What’s wild in thinking about this photo is that I was fifty and Mom was my current age, 70.

That’s why taking these photos, which may not mean much at the time, can become timeless and special.

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