Ashland, southern Oregon. Monday, September 21, 2026.
Sunny but overcast day, giving it a humid, warm feeling. 76 F, we expect a high in the mid 80s today. It may have rained in parts of town but we didn’t see or feel it.
I’m a little late to this post. Got up and went into novel writing mode, emerging a few hours later. Like, oops — what happened to the time?
I’m pleased that the other networks are responding to Trump’s dictatorial behavior by providing a united front. Backing up a little, Trump raged that three news outlets, CNN, MS Now, and Politico, were putting out ‘fake news’ and declared them banned. Today, basically, the other news outlets demonstrating what the absence of news coverage will mean.
Trump loves the camera. He needs the news programs. As much as he rails against them, without them, Trump would fade away.
Jump to Trump’s new helipad opening today. Without the major news network, it was reportedly very unclear about what was going on. Trump will fume about it and his right-wing news allies will attempt to fill the gap. But the problem with the right-wing news outlets is that they’re right-wing. As much as Trump complains about mainstream media being ‘left-wing’, that’s where most people get their news.
Trump being Trump, though, he’ll often cut off his nose to spite his face, as the expression goes. He probably won’t back down soon.
I’m also pleased by the network moves because my wife was roaring, “Why don’t the other news networks stand up for each other? What’s wrong with them?”
So the move will restore a little peace to my house.
Today’s music comes from a group called The Brotherhood of Man. When I read of the networks’ united front against Trump, The Neurons pulled up the 1969 song, “United We Stand”.
Trump feeds off creating tension and especially thrives on being contentious and divisive. It always gives me a laugh to remember him saying that he wants to be remembered as a unifier.
Your Trump Quote of the Day:
Now eighteen months into Trump’s second term, we know that history will not describe him as a ‘unifier’. The way he attacks and divides people — including members of his own party — it’s almost like he doesn’t understand the definition of ‘unifier’…
My wish for you today is that life treats you well and rewards you with love, joy, good health, and good food.
Ashland, southern Oregon. Sunday, September 20, 2026.
We’re sitting on the cusp of autumn at 78 F, anticipating a rise to 90 F, so sunny and blue that you’d be forgiven for thinking it’s the middle of summer.
But the changing leaves on the trees defy that assessment. And the night temperatures have been coming down…cooler…cooler.
Sunset comes more quickly, and sunrise seems to lag.
It’s summer’s end, autumn’s beginning.
Seasons don’t slow Trump down! First, he tells us that he’s built the world’s greatest military, seizing all the credit, as though he conceived and built everything while selecting and training every soldier, marine, sailor, and airman.
Then, while building the White House ballroom on the site of the East Wing that he illegally tore down, he embellished his ballroom dream, declaring it would be ‘drone-proof’ with a drone port, a military installation with snipers.
Now Trump is saying the same thing about the new Arch he wants built.
Trump says new arch will also deploy drones, position snipers and store ammo
Who are all these invaders Trump is fearing that he’s obsessed with adding snipers to everything he builds?
Well, wiser heads suggest that Trump is pitching the security angle because the beautification scam isn’t working any longer.
More cynical people like me like me believe that it’s a three-prong attack on common sense and decency. The reasons include both of the previous reasons, but it’s also another distraction as part of Operation Epic LOOK SQUIRREL!
Trump using the security angle for the arch does make sense; when courts heard about ‘security concerns’ after the Epstein ballroom construction had been halted, they yielded to Trump.
He is ridiculous. So are his supporters, especially those zealots, the MAGAzens.
All this Trump thinking about wars, guns, and shooting provoked Les Neurons to bring JoJo Gunne into the morning mental music stream. The band was named after a Chuck Berry song and the song came out in 1972. No much to the lyrics, to be honest, but it’s upbeat and easy to sing along with.
I hope this is a good day for you, using whatever metrics are meaningful to your life.
Ashland, southern Oregon. Tuesday, August 11, 2026.
We continue slowly cooling in our area. 78 F, 92 F is the expected high. But we never saw the forecast high yesterday, coming up a few degrees short. I was alright with that. Smoke has been absent from the sky, too, knock on wood, despite so many fires plaguing Oregon and the United States in general — indeed, the world. The world’s oceans had their highest recorded temperature in July.
My sisters and I entered an extended text session a few days ago. Continued into today. All about the family. Turns out we aren’t “Parks” except in name. Mom’s maiden name is Parks. Her father was Parks. But his father was Slacks. So we’re Slacks. After Alfred Parks died, Mom’s grandmother married Slack and had our great-grandfather. She then divorced Slack and resumed life as Parks, re-naming her two children from Slack as Parks. Family legend from another part of the family claim that Alfred Slack’s side was shady, which might explain things.
It’s probably just me, but Trump’s Patriot Games seem to be going on with little notice. I think he imagined something grand but as usual with Trump efforts, the execution was shoddy. Besides having to move it from D.C. to Ohio, because of competing events — which Trump ordered — participants weren’t selected for their athletic prowess from great competitions. Most of them turned out to be white, which isn’t a surprise to me. Some represented states they weren’t from — which, yes, also aligns with classic Trump sloppiness.
Qualifying rounds, along with kickball and dodgeball, took place on Sunday. On Monday, male and female competitors participated in a “varsity circuit” that strung together many sports: athletes had to throw footballs at targets, catch tennis balls out of the air, kick a soccer ball at a target, spike volleyballs over a net, hit wiffle balls with a bat, and sprint around a baseball diamond. Also on Monday, athletes competed in “operation endurance,” in which they had to maneuver through an obstacle course that involved army crawling, climbing nets, lifting heavy tires, monkey bars, and balance beams.
Let’s just call it what it is, more distraction from what a crappy job Trump is doing, more Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIREEL!, just like the Epstein ballroom, the war on Iran, the threats about Greenland, the attack on Venezuela, the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool, the pathetic arch, calling Democrats ‘dumocrats, renaming buildings and airports after him, TrumpRx, Freedom Fuel, Trump’s denunciation of President Biden’s economy — which is way better than the Trump economy, America’s state fair, the blustering about commies stealing the election — hell, all the election fraud crap Trump spouts all the damn time — and other things, like Haitians eating pets. Lies, corruption, and distractions: that’s Trump.
While we have real problems in the US and around the world, Trump attacks imaginary problems, trying to magnifiy their impact, trying to scare people. Meanwhile, our real problems worsen.
I checked this morning and the measles outbreaks are still breaking out. We’re already into new modern records. Texas and South Carolina are the nation’s hot spots, with significant outbreaks taking place in Texas, Virginia, and Pennsylvania.
I have “For the Love Of Money” by the O’Jays playing in the morning mental music stream. Song came out in 1973 and was a top 10 hit for in the US. I’m thinking about it today because of how it’s screwing up existence. Capitalism, right? And dark money, which has assumed such a dominant role in modern US politics. Then there are the wealthy oligarchs and billionaires, hunting more for themselves to the detriment of everyone and everything else.
Then there’s the top of the greed pyramid, Donald Trump. Greed and money drives Trump — along with his fantasies about how wonderful and brilliant he thinks he is, ignoring all evidence and facts that consistently confirm, is actually pretty damn inept. He’s an excellent liar and con, and that’s about it.
Sample Lyrics
(For the love of money) people will steal from their mother (For the love of money) people will rob their own brother (For the love of money) people can’t even walk the streets Because they never know who in the world they’re gonna beat For that mean, oh mean, mean green
Almighty dollar, that money
(For the love of money) people will lie, Lord, they will cheat (For the love of money) people don’t care who they hurt or beat (For the love of money) a woman will sell her precious body For a small piece of paper, it carries a lot of weight For that mean, mean, mean, mean, mean green Almighty dollar, talkin’ about, talkin’ about
I know that money is the root of all evil Do funny things to some people Give me a nickel, brother, can you spare a dime? Money can drive some people out of their mind (For the love of money) no good, no good, no good (For the love of money) don’t sell your soul for the money, no, no (For the love of money) lay down, lay down, women will
Money is the root of all evil Do funny things to some people Give me a nickel, brother, can you spare a dime? Money can drive some people out of their minds
Hope your day brings you safety, peace, and security, along with good things to eat and drink. May you live long and prosper, as others used to say.
Our weather is cool, 62 F right now. It’ll rise to the mid 80s, basically as it did yesterday. The air is clear with an AQI that says ‘it’s good’. Clouds muddle around the sky as if they’re waiting for a door to open somewhere.
I’m suspicious of it all.
Things are going well — here. Relatively. Everything is relative. We live on spectrums of changing needs, abilities, awareness, knowledge. It all seems more acute for me as I grow older.
I don’t feel particularly old now but then I look in the mirror. Like, who stole my hair? Will they be returning it?
My face just looks different. Not like my parents or grandparents. Now I’m wondering if someone stole into the house and replaced my face.
Then, why would they have taken my average white, upper middle age (ahem) face?
Answer is, of course: they’re going to use my face to commit a crime somewhere.
So now I wait to see what crime my face shows up as part of.
Watching Mom, friends, and Trump, I don’t look forward to getting much older. Mom, 91, is cranky on most days. Filled with pain, she tells me. I see a video of her in a chair, trying to exercise. She’s listing to her right as she jerks her right arm up. She doesn’t look happy or healthy, but she’s trying.
Trump worries me even more. His language, never a strong suit, has become much worse. There are reports of him crapping his pants or delivering some nasty farts. Where there’s this much smoke, I got to wonder about the truth behind it. If he’s crapping himself or emitting enough noxious foulness that others are gagging and turning away, those aren’t signs of good heatlh.
In photos, Trump’s face has that old person, mean, angry look going. He’s glaring at the world like he’s trying to hear what they’re saying and can’t.
Worse, though, are those late night texts — from Mom and Trump.
Mom reached out at 2 AM to ask me if we’re safe from the fires. She pinged me again a few minutes later to ask, “Why don’t you answer?”
I don’t see these texts until I get up a few hours later. Then reply, sorry, missed your texts, was asleep, we’re fine. And I thank her for her concerns.
My sister later reports that Mom texted her in the middle of the night, asking what did Gina do with all the clothes Mom left behind in her house.
I worry, why is Mom up in the middle of the night texting?
Trump worries me in the same way. He spends a lot of nocturnal hours texting. Then he’s shown ready to fall asleep in his chair at meetings during the day.
Trump’s texts are worse than Mom’s texts. Mom shows a belated handle on what’s going on and often shows concern for others.
Trump texted an AI generated vision of himself as Elvis Presley. What an absolutely strange thing to do, I think as I see this. Who in their right mind pretends to be someone else like that?
Let’s pause to think about it: Trump is posting an image of himself as a popular pop culture star. One who died in 1977, almost fifty years ago. What is going on in that troubled head that he entertains these thoughts?
I then think of Trump’s MAGAts. They say that he speaks for them.
Are they out there generating AI images of themselves as others? Are some of them projecting themselves as young Johnny Cash or dead young athletes and actors?
I received other texts and messages from people worrying about us and the fires. As the fires grow in the Pacific Northwest and more are evacuated, the news shifts toward the top of the news cycles.
We’re fine, I reply to all, knock on wood. No, it’s been a remarkably ‘cooler’ summer, with us rarely challenging 100 F. Wildfire threats have been far away. The smoke has only been mild and hasn’t lasted too long — knock on wood. Hope to hell I’m not jinxing us by mentioning it.
No, our thing remains the drought. Winter supplies are down to the low 40s. We’re conserving. Vegetation is browning, which would be nice if these were pie crusts baking in the oven instead of grassy fields and mountain meadows.
Between nature’s growing extreme trends and aging, there’s a sense that something is going to get you. Trump, acting crazy, arming ICE and mobilizing them in cities, fostering more war, using violence as a mallet to try to fix things, only makes that feel worse. Especially as his main concerns are promoting himself as a young Elvis Presley, affixing his name to buildings, and destroying our heritage and cultural norms.
No surprise then, with The Neurons’ music choice for the morning mental music stream. “One Way or Another” is a 1979 Blondie song. Deborah Harry was being stalked but wrote the song with some humor injected into it.
Sample Lyrics:
One way or another, I’m gonna find ya I’m gonna get ya, get ya, get ya, get ya One way or another, I’m gonna win ya I’m gonna get ya, get ya, get ya, get ya
One way or another, I’m gonna see ya I’m gonna meet ya, meet ya, meet ya, meet ya One day, maybe next week, I’m gonna meet ya I’m gonna meet ya, I’ll meet ya
Catchy. Easy to sing along with, good hard beat with a fast tempo made it a popular and memorable song. Makes perfect sense for today, with the threats being raised by nature and Trump.
Hope your day is threatfree, and that you enjoy carefree moments of pleasure and happiness with people you’re fond of, in places which you enjoy.
Another day of sunshine, blue skies and 90 F. Free again of fire and smoke. Kind of holding my breath on that. Been a relatively good year for us in terms of smoke and heat. We’re doing much better than previous years.
Can’t say the same for the rest of the world and the US. Once Democrats can take over Congress, I hope they turn their attention back to addressing climate change.
“The New Republic” offered a perspective on Trump’s second term. I’d noticed the same but they do a better job of categorizing it for us.
I would add Distractions, aka “Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!”. Trump keeps circling to insulting people, claiming the US should own Greenland, he deserves the Nobel Peace Prize, “The commies are coming!”, and multiple other irritatingly inane, pathetic proclamations.
Perhaps Affordability should be one, too.
Speaking of which, I don’t know if it’s true, but it’s an interesting idea:
From what I’ve read, MAGA voters squirm and dismiss gas prices and the other things that irritate us, claiming that those things are happening because of the Deep State or other bizarre logic.
Grifter Rick Scott (Trump – Floridastan) still has his head firmly up Trump’s rear:
“We’ve got to explain to people that, you know, unfortunately until we get some new leadership in Iran, we’re going to continue to see conflict, which is going to see higher gas prices.”
As the rest of us know, higher gas prices also pad prices and costs on everything else. Also, Scott is flat out saying that Trump is working on regime change in Iran — again, since he already changed Iran’s regime once. As history shows, regime change as a policy is highly ineffective.
Since Republicans still think they’re in the 1800s, it’s not surprising that they haven’t picked up on that truth.
Given that we’re stuck in these horrid loops, My Neurons naturally turned to a Stealers Wheel classic. “Stuck in the Middle with You” was released in 1973 but it’s stuck in my morning mental music stream today.
I’ve always enjoyed the song. It’s one that Mom used to enjoy singing to us, a surprising change from her usual offerings. She especially liked the part that goes:
And your friends, they all come crawling Slap you on the back and say “Please, please”
Hope your day is loop free and takes you to refreshing new times and places.
If not, hang in there. I find that coffee, wine, beer, reading, and napping with fur friend helps.
Another dream from last night found my wife and I arriving on an island – not deserted but civilized, part of a nation.
We were younger, in our thirties. Don’t know why we were there, but we were returning.
After disembarking from a red and white ferry, we found our car, got in, and began driving home. Leaving the port parking area, we were behind a small, old, Army-green bus. I knew that the driver – a man about my age – had been on the same boat as me, along with a group of quiet, sullen children.
Both of us drove over and parked at a little office to get cleared to go. I arrived there, went in, got my paper and got clearance.
Back in my car with my wife, we prepared to go on. Watching that slow-moving old green bus, I said, “Oh, no, don’t get in front of us.”
He did, pulling slowly onto the narrow, paved road. The road had a few potholes and high berms where the shoulders had crumbled and the dirt washed away. The green bus belched dark smoke.
I figured I was in for a long, slow trip behind that bus. My wife and I talked about the bus. But the bus pulled over to the right. Getting out of the bus, the driver waved us down.
He asked, “Do you know how to get to Naha?”
“Naha?” My wife and I were surprised, taken aback.
He continued on his own, explaining, “I’m going to go fishing there.”
I thought, fishing at Naha? “Yes,” my wife and I answered, talking at the same time. I took the lead. “Keep going on this road. There’s a intersection where you go right. There’s a brown sign that says ‘Naha’ on.”
“Is it a big sign?” he asked.
I laughed. “No, it’s one of those little military signs.” He looked military so I guessed he would understand that. “It’s brown but it’s by itself. You won’t miss it.”
He walked away and my wife and I drove on. “Fishing at Naha?” we said back and forth, wondering, is he taking the children to go fishing at Naha? We could think of better places to go but that was his business.
