We went out on a drive, purchasing a few needed items, dropping off recycled bottles and cans for the Soroptimists, paying bills. I was a little preoccupied with an article about Sears. Nationally, Sears once had 3500 stores and a thriving mail order business. Now, one Sears store remains in California, part of six nationwide.
Sears was a foundational brick for my childhood. Sears catalogues inspired dreams of Christmas gifts. We headed to the Sears on Business 22 to buy back to school clothes and winter coats. Need a tool? Go to Sears.
Now, like Montgomery Ward*, which employed my grandfather, Woolworth, Murphy’s, and K-Mart, it’s about to vanish from the shopping zones and soon from memories. I was thinking about all the places because we were driving by the Rite Aid in Ashland. It used to be a pretty good store, a familiar place to shop and find things we needed. Now it’s being disappearing, being replaced by a CVS, a store we don’t care for much.
The Sears Tower, Sears’ new corporate headquarters and the world’s tallest building at the time, opened in 1973. I wonder who thought it would be almost gone by 2025.
And then I think about Amazon.
*Yes, I know a second company named Montgomery Ward has been relaunched this century. Same name, different company,
Sunda has arrived in Ashlandia and is offering it’s bonafides as a typical summer day for us. It is July 27,2025. July skidded by on greased slicks, with little sound but a lot of speed. 82 F now, at noon, sunny, an 87 F high is expected by most forecasters for us. Air quality is good with a small smell of wet smoke detected by my nose. That smoke may have been from the Greenway Fire in Medford, 90% contained and 256 acres.
I take exception with the use of ‘imaginary numbers’ in the one article. Imaginary numbers have a place in math; what Trump is using is fictional numbers to spread his lies, as fiction is something invented or feigned. I know I’m pissing up a tree. It’s semantics and pretty meaningless in a world which plays with irregardless, figuratively vs. literally, etc.
I find the Trump meme about a fat Vance hilarious. Hello, kettle, sayeth the pot. You’re black.
And, there we go again, talking about Trump’s cognitive decline and his age, but few others take up the beat, yet they mercilessly hammered President Biden about these things. Yes, we know where the media takes their lead.
Today’s theme music comes from being outside and considering the stars and the black field where they play. Looking at those nocturnal diamonds, I wondered if there was anyone out there coming to save us or destroyus. Meanwhile, The Neutons quickly filled the mental music stream with songs about space and time before bringing up the diamong aspect, and “Shine on You Crazy Diamond” by Pink Floyd from 1975. I enjoy the lyrics and the sonic interplay happening during the various suites.
Hope you have the best Sunda that aliens, gods, fate, and your good selves can deliver. Time to put another one in the books. Cheers
86 F outside. That’s supposed to be our high in Ashlandia for this Satyrda, July 26, 2025.
I haven’t read much news today. Haven’t been up much and haven’t been inclined. Dreams provided me with “Red, Red Wine” as today’s theme music. Neil Diamond wrote the song and originally recorded it. Much as Neil Diamond has said, I prefer UB40’s lighter, reggae arrangement. That’s what I’m going with today.
Another sunny summer day has been born in Ashlandia. We shall name this day Thirstda, July 24, 2025. Temps right now are moderate at 83 F but if you stand in that sunshine and let it beam down on you, the sweat comes fast. Today’s high will peak at about 92, 93 F, I think. Clouds, dust, or smoke hazes some of the sky’s blue, but I don’t smell smoke. The ol’ schnoz seems unafflicted by particulates today. Yea for me, I guess.
Hulk Hogan has passed away. I greet that with a shrug. Ozzy Osbourne passed a couple days ago. I mourn him more, but it’s remote mourning. I’ve been expecting him to pass. Thanks for the music and entertainment, Oz.
A net friend, Annette, posted a reflective post about family, wealth, and change. It melded well with my mood and thoughts after long exchanges with my sister about my mother, Mom’s health, and her living situation. Life, mortality, and death seem to be draping themselves all over me as I observe others’ situations and reflect upon my own. Make hay while the sun shines, right? Because storms can crash in and change everything in an eyeblink.
Over on the political spectrum of my existence, I grimace to more news about the enshittification of things. Yes, it makes me unhappy. Reading opposing opinions about things like cuts to NPR and public broadcasting, the celebration of their potential demise depresses me. Others are scornful and dismissive of any positive impact they may have on people, communities, and civilization. Some things seem to be strictly defined through a narrow scope of costs, profits, and losses, as if this is what life is about. The debt, the debt, some scream, we must do something about the debt! More tariffs! More tax cuts for the wealthy! More tax write-offs for the ultra wealthy. Less help for the states! Less help for the poor! And so it will go until they need help from other states, need help from the poor, say, in a war, for example, or to work. Yes, I’m disgusting by the right-wing tilt going on. I think it counterproductive to common goals and needs. The tilt benefits a few at the expense of the nation.
Today’s theme music is both homage to Ozzy’s memory, my own life, and how I view the current world situation. Yes, it’s “Crazy Train” from 1980. I told others while commenting on Ozzy last night that I’ve been on the crazy train. I’ve seen my family on the crazy train, and friends. A friend replied, “I think we’ve all spent some time on the crazy train.” Now I think the world is climbing on the crazy train.
Crazy, but that’s how it goes Millions of people living as foes Maybe it’s not too late To learn how to love and forget how to hate
Mental wounds not healing Life’s a bitter shame
I’m going off the rails on a crazy train I’m going off the rails on a crazy train (Let’s go)
I’ve listened to preachers, I’ve listened to fools I’ve watched all the dropouts, who make their own rules One person conditioned to rule and control The media sells it and you live the role
Mental wounds still screaming Driving me insane
I’m going off the rails on a crazy train I’m going off the rails on a crazy train
I know that things are going wrong for me You gotta listen to my words, yeah, yeah
Heirs of a cold war, that’s what we’ve become Inheriting troubles, I’m mentally numb Crazy, I just cannot bear I’m living with something that just isn’t fair
Coffee has infiltrated me again. Time to rock another day, even if it’s only a gentle rock, just a little more than a nudge. Hope your day fulfills you in ways you need. Cheers
Ashlandia won the early hours with cool air and warm sunshine. My snout detects just a little congestion-inducing smoke. Wenda, July 23, 2025, will be 91 F at the top end, and thirty degrees less on the low side.
I find it hilarious how angry Trump gets when someone talks of him and Jeffrey Epstein. His rage increases and he snaps, “Fake news!” whenever someone talks about Epstein being at Trump’s second marriage. Add in talk of photographs of Trump and Epstein and the mango sloth goes indandescent. He doesn’t want his secret history with Epstein discussed. Nor does he want reminded about how he and Epstein were besties forever, BFFs.
That Trump can’t sanely discuss it and reflect upon his past with Epstein could be a manifestation of shame and guilt, or a painful reminder to himself and MAGAland that Trump isn’t the great person he’s trying to pretend he is. Just saying. Some folks think it’s all more evidence that Trump is in danger of becoming ‘undone’.
My problem with that is it makes the basic, flawed assumption that Trump hasn’t already come undone. Just look at how he’s talking and acting. Sure, it’s worsening but he’s been pretty undone for a while. Maybe we’re looking at the final undoing. Time will tell.
Thinking about Donald Trump and the secret history he has with Jeffrey Epstein and the photographs of the two BFFs hanging out and having a good time invited The Neurons to recall this 1973 Ringo Starr song, “Photograph”. A simple song, I think The Neurons made a fitting choice for Wenzdaz Theme Music.
Have the best Wenzda you can. I’m gonna try for the same. Coffee is juicing the system for me. Here we go. Cheers
Sunda, July 20, 2025, has entered the play. 73 F, summer is currently riding the norms in Ashlandia. A high of 90 F is expected and the sky is cloud-free blue. Smoke scents surf the wind, enough to be a smelly irritant but not enough to change the air quality or discolor the sky.
This is the Apollo 11 moon-landing anniversary. One giant leap, all that. Seems like it was last night that I sat in our Penn Hills wood-paneled basement game room, watching the news on the big color television as a 13 year old. Then I went outside and looked for the moon again. Seems like we progressed for a long time after that, but now as a nation, as a world of people, we’re falling backwards. Bummer to consider as my body curves into its 69th year. Of course, history slides on its own spectrum of peaks and valleys as nature and political wins and losses bend the trajectories. Time will tell what we’ll be remembering as history in 2075, and how a person like me will look back on it.
I perused this morning’s news with sighs. Flooding and deaths in South Korea, questions about Trump’s state of mental health, death and disaster in more places, lawsuits, etc. As far as Trump’s worsening gibbering, I don’t expect his loyalists to do anything about it because that would disrupt their power trips. That’s what it’s all about for enablers like Noem, Biondi, Kennedy, and the whole Project 2025 gang.
We went dancing yesterday. An annual thing, a troop of fifteen humans and one dog met on the shores of the Lake of the Woods Resort at 3 PM. Chatting, dancing, eating, we enjoyed being outside in sunshine, cooler air, smoke free air, enjoying Lisa & the Dynamics as they ably covered pop, rock, and country hits. Nice being away from the routines and the news for a few hours.
Today’s song comes from yesterday’s outing. “Everyone just have a good time,” was said and The Neurons said, “Kick it.” So, this morning has “Party Rock Anthem” by LMFAO from 2011 in the morning mental music stream. The song was a pretty big hit back then, was frequently heard via television and radio while I was traveling and running errands, but I haven’t heard it in a few years. Synth music, it’s made for dancing and has simple lyrics.
Back to Sunda I go. Hope you have the best day possible. That’s what I’m gunning for. Cheers
Yes, it’s Satyrda, July 19, 2025. I’m about as amazed as you. It’s gonna be a cool one here, just 90 F as our high, up from the current realm ruled by the low 70s. Clouds have abandoned the blue sky and the sun rules.Although fourteen fires are being addressed in our southwestern Oregon region, we’re fairly smoke free. Wind patterns, I guess. Air quality is good.
I glanced at the news but it’s Satyrda. Not much churn going on at this point. Trump is suing Murdoch over the WSJ’s Epstein story. It’ll be interesting if Murdoch backs down. That’s the usual Trump MO. Sue and force the others to back down. Rarely seems to be about truth; more about pressure and money. In this case, with MAGALand clamoring for the Epstein files to be released, Murdoch might have the upper hand. Will he press it?
Today’s music is “While You See A Chance” by Steven Winwood. I heard the1982 song on television last night and The Neurons are not letting it go. They’re focusing on the lines, “When some cold tomorrow finds you, when some sad old dream reminds you, how the endless road unwinds you. While you see a chance, take it. Find romance, fake it. Because it’s all on you.” And this might also be dream related, now that I think about it a little.
Hope this Satyrdaz find you doing well and taking care of business. Off we go, one more time. Cheerz
Thirstda, July 17, 2025, slid into Ashlandia with a fresh load of heat. And here we were, still dealing with the heat we already had. We’re in the yellow for air quality, a mind surprise if you look at the air’s discoloration. 87 F now, 1 PM, it’s hit 99 F before the heat subsides. Same ol’ story for the last several days.
Yes, we did early morning shopping runs so I’m into writing late. For reasons which The Neurons keep closehold, they have Van Halen playing “Finish What Ya Started” from 1988 and OU812 in the morning mental music stream. It could be very any number of recent news stories. One that particularly jumps out is the morphing Epstein saga. Once told as a horror story about Democrats, Trump wants it out of print and out of mind. His stance, so curiously different than how he stood not so long ago, amuses many and inspires more to want the files released. Who knows if that’s what The Neurons had in mind. They may have also been pointing to TACO’s tariff tango, where he slides forward and slips back about what’s going on with tariffs.
Coffee has been rehomed in my systems. Time to rock and roll another day. Here we go. Hope it all goes well for you. Cheers
Happy Wenzda. Jumped out of bed (it’s an expression), and went to the windows and —
“Alexa, what’s the air quality?” I asked. Because looking west, smoke sheathed the view. What fresh hell was this?
Alexa told me the air quality was good. Yes, I did not smell smoke. Windows were open. Cool 66 degree F air was flowing in. But that smoke was turning the blue sky gray. Must be from one of the nine fires burning west of us. Or one of the several blowing along mountain ridges from the fires burning south in northern California.
Supposed to be 97 F today. That’s what we saw yesterday. Ashlandia summer is in place.
I can become obsessive about things. My routine soon incorporate sniffing the air for smoke smells and looking out the window to see if the smoke was becoming better or worse. Some crow was yelling something the whole time. Another was responding from further away. I don’t know what it was about. I don’t speak crow.
Reading about Trump’s irritation with the Epstein files. While he’s still burning down the U.S., his base is upset about the Epstein List. Trump, being true to his core of caring only for himself and lying and throwing aspersians at others when he gets upset, lashed out on a lie-filled text. I read a good rebuttal with a timeline and a reminder, Presidents Obama and Biden didn’t have anything to do with it. It was during Dubya’s administration and Trump 1. Staunch Republicans Barr and Acosta were involved. Indisputably, though, Trump and Epstein were runners together. Photos exist. Trump talked about Epstein in glowing terms. No doubt, Trump is in that file.
Today’s music is a 1998 Eve 7 offering, “Inside Out”. The Neurons had it playing in the morning mental music stream for a bit, slowly turning the volume up. Finally hearing the part that goes, “I’m not as Ugly sad as you. Or am I origami folded up and just pretend, demented as the motives in your head.” Knowing some lyrics makes the modern net useful for finding the song’s details. Once those details were rehoused in my awareness, some memories about where and when I often heard it — in the car, driving around the bay area, Alex — stacked.
Now I’m feening for coffee. Off we go. Have a most excellent day, as we used to say. Cheers
My sisters and I, five years ago (April of 2020), on a river cruise. I’m the one with the face fur. The sisters begin with the oldest in the right corner and sweep counterclockwise to the youngest in the lower left hand corner. We had a good time that night. I’m second oldest of the tribe.
Michael Seidel, writer 