Tag: memories

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

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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

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Sundaz Wandering Thoughts

This is just a weird household fact. Weird isn’t even the right word. Really, just something noted.

Here in our household, the clothes washer is just called the washer, or the washing machine. But the dishwasher is always fully said with both words, even though it’s been morphed into one. Examples:

“I’m going to put some stuff into the washer and do a load.” That would be the clothes washer.

“Should we turn on the dishwasher?” Self explanatory.

And now, as I’m writing it out to understand what I think about this, I see how much context plays into the whole scheme. Like, we don’t collect dirty clothes into the washer and then announce that we need to do a load. No, that’s all more systematic. We put the dirty clothes into a wheeled basket. When it’s full or one of us has a specific need for something to be washed.

I’d attributed it to our upbringing. I’m 69. My wife is a year younger. Her family never had a dishwasher. Dishes were always washed by hand. My family acquired their first dishwasher when I was eleven. Mom bought it on sale at Sears for Mother’s Day. So I thought that my wife and I grew up with clothes washers but dishwashers came later. Hence the difference.

Could be a bit of both, I suppose. As a final aside, my wife announced on Friday, “I’m going to wash clothes. Do you need to put anything in there? I’m doing darks.”

“No, I have nothing.”

I went off and did something in the other room. When I came back, she accosted me. “We had so many dirty clothes that I had to split it up into two loads.” She gestured back at the machine. “Why are you wearing so many clothes? Where are you going? What are you doing?”

“I’m just following the norm,” I replied. “You know, clean shirt, clean underwear, clean socks. Just one of each a day. Except socks. I wear a pair of them. I usually wear my pants a few times before washing them.”

“You need to be less clean,” she replied.

I laughed. Being told to be ‘less clean’ was definitely a first.

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Twozdaz Wandering Thoughts

A high school couple were seated beside me at the coffee shop. I began by writing, ‘a young high school couple’, but isn’t that redundant? It does stimulate a story beginning: ‘An old high school couple sat beside me discussing their course workload and death choices.” Don’t know where it advances from there.

This HS couple rose to leave. She made a comment about Pink Floyd. He, looking directly at me, replied, “I know. Dark Side of the Moon is such an amazing album.”

I thought, funny, but I was about their age when that album was released. About their age when I went to a concert and witnessed Pink Floyd performing songs from Dark Side of the Moon.

I said nothing back, but I was pleased. It’s good to learn that appreciation for some things goes on.

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Fridaz Theme Music

Thickening, layer, dark wool clouds lay seige to diminishing blue sky patches. Hi. Welcome to Frida, October 3, 2025 in Ashlandia. Rains which came yesterday will continue today, chilling the 50 F air and keeping it from getting much higher than the mid-fifties. Autumn is here, and winter is coming.

My wife and I chatted about this as we drove on errands. “I like days like this,” I said, appreciating, at that point, a cloudy sky with a blustery wind and lazy, low angle sunshine. It was about 68 F but felt warmer because the breeze carried in summery hints, like leftovers in the kitchen. Then I laughed. “But that’s how it happens with every season. There’s a sense of gladness and appreciation for the new season. Then.”

“Then you get tired of it,” my wife finished for me. “Summer sunshine is great, and the hot air feels wonderful for a while but then, OMG, it’s hot day after day and you get tired of it. Now fall is here, and it’s great but in another month, we’ll be complaining about how cold and wet it is. That’s human nature.”

After perusing news and skating through details of how Trump is wrecking the United States, I wonder when the MAGA will awaken and turn on him. Well, we know that answer. It’s been established that the vast majority of them won’t turn on him until they are personally aggrieved. They’ll wait until they can’t afford healthcare because premiums are skyrocketing. Inflation won’t bother them until suddenly they find themselves unable to buy the food they’re used to because tariffs and trade wars force them to go without. The shutdowns to colleges and universities and Trump’s decision to curtail the war on cancer won’t hit them until they or a loved-one are suffering cancer’s effects and they wonder, why can’t we fix this. Polluted skies and water won’t bother them until it’s their air they can’t breathe, their water they can’t drink. They’ll remain indifferent about Trump’s anti-vax campaign until their children are sick and dying, and they’re wondering, why? They won’t be upset with what’s happening to the immigrants until suddenly there are fewer people to wait on them, to provide services, or there’s less doctors, nurses, and healthcare providers and they can’t get appointments because trained professionals are no longer available. The MAGA won’t care until the military rolls into their town under Trump’s law and order banner and they discover themselves being thrown to the ground or locked up and held for days even though they’re citizens. They won’t care until the private voucher systems states are instituting start turning out ignorant children and they wonder, what’s wrong with schools these days. They won’t care about Trump gutting tourism with his fear and bullying tactics until there are no longer tourists providing tourist dollars and businesses are closing, leaving empty buildings and unemployment in their wake. They won’t care about the lack of infrastructure funding until their bridges collapse, killing friends and family, and inconveniencing them. They won’t care about free speech until Trump turns on them and warns them, “How dare you criticize me?”

Yes, so The Neurons turned to an old faithful for these MAGAts. They’re acting like zombies. The Cranberries came up with a brilliant song for ’em: “Zombie”. Zombie vocalist Dolores O’Riordan wrote the powerful song after a bombing conducted by the Provisional Irish Republican Army (Provisional IRA) killed and injured people.

There were a lot of bombs going off in London and I remember this one time a child was killed when a bomb was put in a rubbish bin – that’s why there’s that line in the song, ‘A child is slowly taken’. [ … ] We were on a tour bus and I was near the location where it happened, so it really struck me hard – I was quite young, but I remember being devastated about the innocent children being pulled into that kind of thing. So I suppose that’s why I was saying, ‘It’s not me’ – that even though I’m Irish it wasn’t me, I didn’t do it. Because being Irish, it was quite hard, especially in the UK when there was so much tension.

— Dolores O’Riordan in 2017, on writing “Zombie”

h/t to Wikipedia.org

She sings, “What’s in your head, in your head, zombie, zombie, zombie?” Because a zombie is an unthinking creature who is just going along with what’s happening, never awakening to its impacts. That’s what’s in my head this morning, pouring through the morning mental music stream.

Peace and grace seem to be a long way off. I’m searching for some way to lure them in. Maybe a ritual. I hope they find and hold you. Until then, I guess I’ll depend on coffee. Think I’ll indulge in another gulp now, while I can still afford it. Cheers

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1982

Daily writing prompt
Your life without a computer: what does it look like?
View all responses

I’ve lived without a computer before. It actually wasn’t terrible. Yes, I’m now spoiled. Personal computers have been life changing.

But jump back to 1982. I was in the U.S. Air Force, stationed at Kadena Air Base on Okinawa, an island that belongs to Japan. Commodore’s VIC 20 had us abuzz about computers. While we could easily see how it would make many things easier, shopping wasn’t yet on the menu. Nor was getting news updates. It was only toward the end of 1983 that I began learning about the concepts of ‘bulletin boards’, the Internet, and the worldwide web.

So back then, we watched television. Movies were watched via VHS tapes. That was the latest, greatest tech move for us, and such devices were still running close to $1,000. But we had one to help us weather the lack of entertainment inherent in being overseas. Remember, this was before satellite TV, too, for all practical purposes. All that stuff was just coming out, as were microwave ovens. They were also huge, bulky, expensive machines, but we purchased on of those, as well.

It’s hard to believe how fast everything changed. In late 1983, I bought my first CD player. It played one CD at a time. Returning to the U.S. from Japan, we gave our VHS player to my wife’s parents, and bought ourselves a new, smaller one with more features, including a remote control. That was the same year that I bought my first computer, a small but heavy Kaypro. Running at 4.77 megahertz, with a tiny green screen, it ran on CP/M and offered minimal RAM and two floppy drives that used 5 1/4 inch disks. It was a wild scene. We learned how to add RAM, make things faster, and double our floppy disks’ storage. Ten megahertz machines were being touted as possibilities, along with 64K of RAM and a 5-meg hard drive and 16 color monitors! Wow!

Back before that, we read. A lot. Books were checked out from the library, and research was done at the library. I subscribed to multiple magazines, such as Writer’s Digest, Autoweek, and Road & Track. Went for walks, played sports, read newspapers, which were delivered daily. When I lived in San Antonio, Texas, I subscribed to both the San Antonio Light and the Wall Street Journal. Even with the computer and VHS player coming along, and the CD player, and DVD players, most of that didn’t change. We still visited malls to shop, and used Sears and Spiegel catalogues to make orders, calling in to toll free numbers to put the order in. Board games like Risk, Life, and Monopoly were popular with us, along with Trivial Pursuit, and card games like Tripoli and King on the Corner, and Solitaire.

No, the big change came when the Internet finally fired up. My experience with it began in 1991, when I came back from Germany. Slow as hell, to be sure. Connections through modems which had to be hooked up. LOL. That changed fast, too, as built-in modems came along. I was both a Compuserve and AOL subscriber. Email was a new, exciting idea.

Then, suddenly we went to 256 colors and beyond on our monitors. The mouse became popular. 100 megahertz machines were being sold. I remembered buying and installing a 100-meg hard drive, and laughing. How was I ever going to use that much storage? It seemed so excessive. By then, our floppy drives were down to three-inch little colorful things. Now, we’re like, floppy drive? What the heck is that?

Going online was a wild scene back in the mid 1990s. Weren’t many websites in those early days. The games were something else. Research, news, and sports all became much more accessible. Then, boom…social media. That’s when things really flipped.

I’ve gone a few days in 2025 without my computer and without the Internet. Like before, we read, played games, and went for walks.

Just like it was 1982, just forty years ago, when I was younger, and so was the personal computer.

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Wenzdaz Theme Music

Cool air and rainy vistas wraps Ashlandia’s autumn persona. 68 F is our expected high, 12 above our current setting.

Wenzda. October 1, 2025. September is gone, finishing off nine months of 2025. The final three months promise quite a ride.

Trump is trying to move the needle to full dictatorship. With the GOP mostly going along with him, the Roberts Court dished him one small setback in its Lisa Cook Fed board ruling. I think his military show threw him a deeper setback. Trump’s chosen Foxer to rule the nation’s military arm, Hedwig the angry inch, had summoned the U.S. military’s top leadership to D.C. Trump, apparently hearing about it, decided to insert himself into it. Between those two, the stoic military seemed less than impressed with the clown show encountered. This Fox broadcaster and a desperately vain, overweight billionaire were going to show them, professionals of twenty+ years, how to be strong and how to military. I’m sure a strong vein of who do they think they are went through gathered military. Nothing else, military leaders tend to be proud, intelligent, and lean toward arrogance. They’ve worked hard. Sacrificed. Committed to principles. They taught and practiced loyalty, and they’re versed in history. They are not fools nor easily cowed. And Trump and Hegseth treated them like fools, trying to cow them, dismissing all that they are. I think Trump’s Regime made a huge mistake staging this situation. The military knew what it looked like and what Trump was trying to do. And they probably did not like it. No, they will not speak out. But they were in front row seats for the unfiltered TACO show. They probably walked away thinking, he’s our commander-in-chief but our duties lie with the Constitution.

Unfortunately, Trump can fire a lot of them. Just decide, be gone. Might not be legal but that’s the Trump nation. Legality’s hold is weak and diminishing. So Trump fires them. Puts in replacements. I don’t know how that would all sit with troops. We saw with Germany, Vietnam, and other conflicts that the military often falls back on, “I’m just following orders.” So, we need to hope that they’re strong enough, intelligent enough, to resist those orders when they’re unlawful, and do the right thing.

Wow, what a place for our nation to reach.

They might also remember, hey, Trump’s best friend, Jeffrey Epstein, was convicted of some pretty unsavory crimes. They might wonder, what exactly is in that Epstein file? They may recall photos like this:

And they might think, POTUS or not, I really don’t like this guy.

Today’s song came from looking for Papi, my orange boi. I was like, “Where is that cat?” Then kind of thought, I wonder if he’s out front. And just like that, The Neurons had me singing “I wonder, wah wah wonder,” from “Runaway”. Then Bonnie Raitt’s cover took over the morning mental music stream and here we are.

Meanwhile, Papi wandered in from another room, yawning and stretching, back arched, stretching his front legs, then dragging his back legs in another stretch. After a few tottering steps, he sat and furiously washed several areas, then looked up at me in mid-wash. “Hungry yet?” I asked. He trotted forward.

Looking for peace and grace to find you? Me, too. I made some coffee, trying to lure them in. Fingers crossed that it works. Here we go, one more time into the breach. I mean, day. Cheers

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Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

My wife and I had a minor disagreement the other day.

I had surgery to repair a ruptured tendon last year, in October, 2024. I’ve had pain of various kinds since then. One source of pain was along toes three to five, which was often stiff with burning pain. I’d mentioned it to my surgeon, as it began during my convalescence from surgery. He said that it sounds like a nerve was damaged. I felt the same. Although I’m not a medical expert or doctor, etc., I broke and dislocated a wrist in my late twenties. Pins casts immobilized that wrist and arm. I suffered from a burning, painful sensation along the pin sites after they were removed. My doc back then told me it was probably nerve damage. It did go away after about twenty years. This foot pain felt just like that pain.

While walking the other day, I felt a sudden sharp and painful snap in my foot where the toe pain resides. After gasping and slowing for a second, I resumed walking. Lo, that foot pain was gone. It hasn’t come back.

I was so elated. I went home and told my wife. She responded, “Why is this the first that I’m hearing about this?”

One, it wasn’t the first she was hearing about it. She’d forgotten me mentioning it, but I spoke about in early January of this year. I don’t blame her for forgetting it. We don’t remember everything we’re told.

Two was a broader philosophical position. Basically, I don’t tell her about every pain I endure. I’m aging, and have pains from time to time. Feet, ankle, hips, neck, shoulder, back, abdomen, eyes, etc. Those pains often go away. Their duration can last anywhere from a few hours to a week. Sometimes they limit movement, and more rarely limit my activities. My point is, pain comes and goes. I prefer to not complain. And then means, to me, not mentioning.

And there’s a little history in that. Number one was Mom. Mom as a mother often told us to stop crying, stop whining, stop complaining. She wanted us to be happy children. If we couldn’t be happy, she wanted us to be quiet.

Then there’s history with my wife about this. Long ago, when I was twenty, I was severely sick for several days. We didn’t see doctors back then for things like that. Basically vomiting, not eating, listless, sweating a lot, lot of pain. That pain resulted in some moaning and groaning.

Yeah, I got over it and lived. But about a year later, my wife was speaking to others and talked about what a baby I was when I was sick and hurt. That insulted and angered me. I told her so when we were alone. It since became a theme for her to talk about how often men complain about being sick or hurt when women are so much hardier, and more willing to endure. I finally mentioned to my wife that I disliked this reductivism about men and pain. She’s done it off and on since, and once, after seeing me give her a look when she made such a statement, apologized and claimed that she wasn’t including me. Since then, she’s slowly drifted out of the habit.

But this is how we evolve. We have our basic attitudes and tendencies, and then we react to our environment. Part of that is how we react to what we hear. What is said about us, especially by those we love, admire, and trust. Maybe I’m being thin-skinned, but words matter. Part of my problem, too, is that I seem to have a very strong memory. I don’t easily forget or forgive.

I guess that’s my bottom line.

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Fridaz Theme Music

Snap, crackle, and whoosh. September’s final Frida descends on us. September 26, 2025. 54 F outside. Sunshine, blue sky, changing trees, classic Americana fall look. We’ll climax at 80 F today.

Dreams again propel today’s music choice. I’ve been dreaming deeply, frequently, vividly. While thinking about last night’s featured dream this morning, all about a boat ride on a wide river on an overcrowded boat, followed by a fast drive on a wide highway in an overcrowded car, Les Neurons brought Mazzy Star into the morning mental music stream and “Fade into You” plays.

[Verse 1]
I wanna hold the hand inside you
I wanna take the breath that’s true
I look to you and I see nothing
I look to you to see the truth
You live your life, you go in shadows
You’ll come apart and you’ll go blind
Some kind of night into your darkness
Colors your eyes with what’s not there

[Chorus]
Fade into you
Strange you never knew
Fade into you
I think it’s strange you never knew

h/t to Genius.com

Reading last night, this morning. Realizing again how much U.S. conservatives feast on violence and hypocrisy. Decry violence, but always blame others for it, and never do anything about it except their Twister edition of the blame game. In that way, they’ll always have their violence, always have their game to play, which distracts and enrages their base, and keeps conservatives going. If not for violence and taking down freedoms, and giving tax breaks to corporations and the wealthy, the GOP has no platform. Sure, the claim they’re for law and order. Anyone without their head up Trump’s ass knows that’s a play they’re putting on. The GOP staunchly declare they’re for small gov’t, another farce as they launch government into being meddlesome and invasive while reducing the ways in which it’s helpful. GOP also lectures that it’s for state’s rights, but that’s only when doing so serves them. No, they’re for big, controlling, violent government.

The Trump Regime likes to brag ’bout how great it is. How wonderful they’re making the United States. Trump is especially bullish about his accomplishments but when you line up the facts, he comes across like a fourth grader bragging about getting the best grade in class when it turns out he failed. This thought comes after reading a Daily Kos piece about Trump’s FEMA withholding funding from hurricane victims. Trump’s alternate female version, Kristi Noem, bragged about how fast they were doing it. Turns out the states are saying, nope. We’re not getting much help from them.

Hope peace and grace shows up in your day. If it shows up in mine, I’ll offer it some coffee, something to eat, something to feed upon and grow. Got my coffee. Awaaay we go. Cheers

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Thirstdaz Theme Music

September continues for a few more days. It’s Thirstda, September 25, 2025. 74 F in Ashlandia. Blue but hazy sky. Sunshine. Reaching for 86 F. Leaves have not started freefalling but the fall color shift has begun.

A dream provides today’s music. It was a weird damn dream, featuring the strangest game of basketball ever, and a zombie sort of white man. The dream ended with me victorious in basketball, gaining others’ freedom, and then walking away, leading five others. As I left, I began singing a song made popular by The Animals, “We Gotta Get Out of this Place”. Written by Cynthia Weil and Barry Mann, it’s a powerful protest place against the pressures and conditions of modern first world life, we were become so defined by work, paying bills, and trying to stay safe. When I started singing it in the dream, the others joined in as we walked up and out of a square, concrete tunnel, sort of the kind often encountered in underground parking garages.

Just want to note, BTW, Weil and Mann also wrote the hit songs, “On Broadway”, “Kicks”, “Make Your Own Kind of Music”, “Here You Come Again”, “Walkin’ in the Rain”, and contributed to “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin'”, and “(You’re My) Soul and Inspiration”.

Whenever I think of this song or play it, I remember a childhood incident. I was eight when The Animals came on The Ed Sullivan Show to perform. Mom was very excited; she thought there would be animals singing. So we all tuned in to hear a human rock band singing this song, severely disappointing Mom.

Trump continues throwing apples at bogey threats. Now he’s pretending the violence in the United States is caused by ‘the left’. That’s how it is in his fact-free alternate reality. Actions like this lower freedom, democracy, unity, and respect. But it makes Trump feel pretty.

Deification of Charlie Kirk mounts. Put his likeness on the silver dollar, Republicans urge. Sure, cement this era’s insanity for the future to more fully and completely understand.

A government shutdown crawls closer. Trump refuses to negotiate with Democrats, chickening out once again, because he knows he’s a terrible negotiator. TACO, in control of the House and Senate, wi;th the Supreme Court backing him, has to resort to lying on the net once again in support of his alternate reality, this time claiming that Democrats want to give trillions illegal immigrants. It’s as shady and ugly as previous lies he’s made, like immigrants are eating people’s pets. His fact-free existence continues as a problem for the rest of us. From his ridiculously uninformed medical advice to his absurd grasp of history and his overinflated sense of himself, all he does breaks down centuries of trust, progress, hope, and peace.

As a bully, Trump is threatening to be cruel and stupid as part of the shutdown. That’s his normal style. Bully, bluster, blame others, and do stupid things. In this case, the WH issued guidance that it’ll use the shutdown to fire folks. “With respect to those Federal programs whose funding would lapse and which are otherwise unfunded, such programs are no longer statutorily required to be carried out,” the memo says. “RIF notices will be in addition to any furlough notices provided due to the lapse in appropriation.”

It’s part of the Trump Offal Office Circus. The GSA just announced it’s hiring people Trump let go through DOGE because getting rid of them screwed up the government. Ditto, the IRS. Now, here goes TACO down the same alternate reality hole he always goes, dragging the nation and world down with him.

I wonder what Trump’s BFF, Jeffrey Epstein, would say at this point?

Well, got coffee, so I’m good for the moment. Hope peace and grace grows stronger in the face of Trumpnanigans.

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