Tag: memory

Frieda’s Theme Music

Howdy men and women, boys and girls, and all others regardless of your name, gender, or orientation. Welcome to another installment of Frieda.

Today is March 7, 2025. Blue sky and sunshine are stamping Ashlandia’s scene. Although it’s 38 F now, warming sun will carry us into the upper 50s. I can dig it.

So the Jobs Report came out, and I think I smell a con.

The US economy added 151,000 jobs in February in first full jobs report under Trump’s second term It’s like, what? How? Given all that I’d read about job losses throughout the month of Feburary, suddenly it’s good news? Call me old-fashioned but if I step in a pile of shit and it smells like shit, I call it shit. Additionally, given how the Trusk Regime has infiltrated every Federal computer system, and PINO Trusk’s propensity of lying, cheating, and being generally untrustworthy, I think there’s every reason to believe that we’re being gaslighted. That economists believed 160000 new jobs would be added blew my mind.

This is an interesting piece of the article:

In recent weeks, the Trump administration has made monumental policy shifts — including large-scale federal layoffs, funding cutbacks, a back-and-forth on tariffs and mass deportations — that have spilled into the broader economy, shaking business and consumer confidence, and resulting in several data points flashing warning signals.

However, the Department of Government Efficiency-driven employment cuts weren’t expected to make a big splash in February’s jobs report. That’s partly because of timing of the two surveys that feed in to the monthly employment snapshot and also due to the structure of employment separation agreements.

Still, Friday’s report gave a hint of what could come: The federal government posted a loss of 10,000 jobs for the month, with 3,500 of those losses coming from the US Postal Service.

So, they’re saying this is all timing? I remain incredulous.

This being the anniversary of one of America’s version of Bloody Sunday, reading about it triggered The Neurons to fold U2’s song, “Sunday Bloody Sunday”, into the morning mental music stream. It’s the 60th Anniversary of the violence in Selma, Alabama, in 1965.

The U2 song is about another government killing citizens. “One of U2’s most overtly political songs, its lyrics describe the horror felt by an observer of the Troubles in Northern Ireland, mainly focusing on the 1972 Bloody Sunday incident in Derry where British troops shot and killed unarmed civil rights protesters.” h/t to Wikipedia.org

Little changes, it sometimes feels. Governments kill their protesting citizens. Reminds me of PINO Trusk’s first term. Remember when he wanted to have the military shoot protestors?

Coffee has rescued me again. Hope you have a solid day. Cheers

0

Twosda’s Theme Music

Today is Twosda, Feb. 4, 2005. It’s 33 F outside in Ashlandia and ‘they’ are suggesting our high temp will be in the upper thirties.

You want snow? We got snow. Wet, heavy snow. Eight to ten inches of it surrounds my house. Far as I can see across the neighborhood, that’s the same for them. It’s like Nature had a to-do list to deliver snow to us in January. Then, realizing that hadn’t crossed off the list, made up for it with one super load. More snow is falling as I write.

Trees and bushes are bending the knee under the snow’s oppressive weight. Trees have gone down, taking power lines. We endured two short power outages. Each lasted just long enough to reset everything. Others were not so lucky and missed power for four or five hours. More disturbing, shelters weren’t open for the homeless. Reasoning for that varies: no volunteers for it said one place while the city shelter said, it’s contracted to an outside organization and is only open at night. Because, it said, other places like the library are open in the day. That’s the kind of irritating thining that has us rubbing our faces and sighing. I remember this discussion and the objections, but what if the library and those other places are forced to close? That was tutted aside. Sure, let’s plan for the best scenarios, and not the worse.

We also have multiple vehicle accident and stuck vehicles. Been a while since we’ve had snow and it shows. While we have four snowtrucks and drivers to plow the roads, little of that seemed to be done yesterday.

Schools are closed and classs are canceled, if you’re wondering. Not even doing it over the net. And I will also stay home. Write here, if I can. Well, I can, but sometimes *ahem* my household’s other occupants are oblivious to the writing process *ahem*. Yes, I’m whining. I’ll endure and get sumpin’ done.

The Neurons have pulled up a 1992 song and slipped into into my morning mental music stream. I played it once before, in 2021, during COVID shutdowns, when we were social distancing. “These Are Days” is by 10,0000 Maniacs. It’s a song about things happening that you’ll remember and look back upon. It’s an upbeat song about having happy times and remembering them.

Ironically, of course, the song came to me as I perused news that sickened me about what’s being done, supposedly to counter ‘woke’ ideology’, by the Trump administration. ‘These are they days.’ Decades of progress, plans, actions, and history are being chewed up and spit out because it’s ‘not aligned’ to Trump’s values and visions. His efforts are about as misguided as the invasion of Iraq over WMDs that didn’t exist, attacking them over Iraq’s part in an attack on the U.S. that they didn’t do, and is as deep in understanding as relabeling French fries as ‘freedom fries’. I remember, too, that George Dubya Bush claimed afterward that they never said there was a link between Saddam Hussein and the 9/11 attacks. Rewriting history. Look at the toll of that war.

And here we go, down another dark, more twisted rabbit hole.

And cue sigh. Here’s the music.

Two last comments before closing. One is about the War in Iraq. I had a friend who commented a few years after the war, they had us all fooled.

That pissed me off. No. They did not. There was a large segment of us who were not fooled. We raged against the war. We marched in the streets, wrote letters, held vigils, and tried to tell the rest of you. You laughed and dismissed us.

The other comment is that many disparaged President Biden’s efforts to address COVID-19. They raged that President Biden was destroying the United States. Yet, we ended up in better shape than most, with fallig unemployment, an improving economy, and a rising stock market (for what that’s worth). But Trump cheerleaders bemoaned the price of eggs and how much it took to fill the gas tank. And they fooled enough people that here we are.

Twenty years from now, I hope I’m here to look back and remember what was said and done, because I think a lot of people will work hard to re-write history. Hell, there is a small chunk of Americans who think that Trump was a great POTUS and did everything he promised in his first term.

So. We’ll see.

0

Munda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

Maya Angelou wrote On the Pulse of Morning for President Bill Clinton’s 1993 inauguration and read it during the ceremonies. I particularly like several specific lines from the poem.

Lift up your eyes upon
This day breaking for you.
Give birth again
To the dream.

Women, children, men,
Take it into the palms of your hands,
Mold it into the shape of your most
Private need. Sculpt it into
The image of your most public self.
Lift up your hearts
Each new hour holds new chances
For a new beginning.
Do not be wedded forever
To fear, yoked eternally
To brutishness.

Yes, “Do not be wedded forever to fear, yoked enternally to brutishness.”

h/t to Poets.org.

Sometimes we need to look back to look forward. Thank you, Maya Angelou.

0

The Fish Dream

I dreamed I was a fish. Apparently a youngish fish, I was gold and orange with red highlights. Swimming alone, I became aware that I had a pretty good memory, for a fish. I developed understanding that there were fish swimming around who unknowingly carried messages on their skin, and that there were some fish who carried memories and knowledge in their minds. All of these kinds of memories and knowledge had a short life and would fade, even though it all lasted longer than most of the other fish ever remembered anything. I began hunting out knowledge and memory fish after I established that I could transfer their knowledge to myself, keep it longer, and use it. I observed how several knowledge fish would swim together in schools, and other fish would join them, using information from knowledge fish to make decisions. But schools of fish avoided other schools, even if they were the same kind of fish. So knowledge would often not get spread past a school, keeping all of the fished dumbed down.

I began resolving to change that, to become a fish that spread and shared knowledge between different kinds and schools of fish. I felt that making all of us smarter would help preserve knowledge and maybe improve our lives.

Then the dream took a turn where an individual was lost and confused, and it sort of dissolved.

Then I went into another dream. In it, I was back to driving some silver, stunningly expensive sports car. I was alone in that one, and just driving along a blacktop road. Rising and falling, the road cut through an emerald green land under a blue sky. I would sometimes stop and exit the car just to gaze at the land and feel the sun and wind. I was much younger, but better looker than real life, with a dark beard. I never saw anyone else in the dream; just some dark birds silently flyin through the sky.

1

Sa’day’s Wandering Thoughts

When I was a child, I asked Mom, “Why are some streets named streets, and some are boulevards, avenues, drives, and roads. What’s the difference?” Mom replied with some vexation, “I don’t know.” Wasn’t my first disappointment with the realization that Mom didn’t know everything.

Needless to say, I was pretty excited when I heard Steven Wright ask, “Why do we drive on parkways and park on driveways?”

Yes! Finally, someone is going to explain. He didn’t answer it, though. Bummer.

I’m always hungry to learn something new. I’m fortunate that my wife has a like spirit, athough hers vectors toward learning about women’s rights, social justice, and sex and dating trends. So she keeps me covered in that area. We share responsibility and coverage on politics, literature, and pop culture. I’m on my own regarding STEM and history.

Over the years, I’ve gleaned insights into streets and all the variations. An e-letter I received, Word Smarts, shed more light on the differences between Interstate, freeway, expressway, parkway, highway, turnpike, and frontage road. It’s a start. Meanwhile, here’s some classic deadpan Wright one-liners.

0

Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

I gotta do something about

I wrote this eight years ago. I remembered it this morning as I was thinking about my life. “I gotta do something about” remains my life’s expression. Cheers

5

Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

Confession.

I sometimes pretend to remember things that I don’t readily recall.

Like, a friend will ask me something like, “Do you remember when Magursky hit that home run in 1968 in the Dodger game?”

Honestly, I can reply, I was twelve, I don’t remember, I wasn’t much into baseball then, and the baseball I followed was basically limited to the Pirates.

But I know my buddy will insist on trying to help me remember. “Oh, come on, don’t you remember? It was the longest home run ever! Completely out of the park. You must remember it. Wait, was it 68? Or was in ’69? Oh, come to think of it, it might have bee ’67.”

I’ve been down this path. I know how the convo will go. Meanwhile, my brain has wandered off, singing the theme song to the “Milton the Monster” cartoon.

So I fib, and I say, “Yes! Of course I remember it,” matching his enthusiasm. “Oh, I’m pretty sure it was ’68 because in ’69 is when the Mets won the World Series, wasn’t it? Remember Tom Seaver and the Miracle Mets? And that was the same year Andretti won the Indy 500, remember?”

And he’ll answer, “Yes, of course I do. Andretti. Indy. Right.”

And we’ll go on happily like that, because that’s a small part of why we’re friends.

2

Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

Tl/DR: It’s all about me. I’m a pretty self-centered peckerhead.

I’m still on Facebook. Yes, I know. It’s mostly to track friends who are now far away and keep up with family events. Those are both fading.

Got a friend request from a friend today. I’d met her on Red Room, where I used to post, and we continued our friendship on Green Room before I moved to WordPress.

Problem with the friend request was, we were already FB friends and she, a retired teacher, writer, and grandmother, died several years ago. I deleted the request.

Damn hacks.

WaPo headline: Swift charges against Georgia father mark a cultural shift on school shootings. Yes, but that’s not the cultural shift needed. I am pleased the father is being charged. I hope he is found accountable for his part in this tragedy. Unfortunately, the many politicians responsible for it will not be held accountable.

My wife and I had a conversation as we were running around doing errands on Thursday. I referenced the conversation. She looked blank. She remembered having it but not what it was about. I was also struggling to remember the details. A minute later, the details flooded back into my memory. I shared them with her and we went on. I would say that it was disturbing but this sort of thing has been going on for years. Memory is a tricky thing.

I have a foot issue. I’ve written about this before. My right ankle was sprained in May and again in June, rolling over each time. I eventually had an MRI and discovered a tendon was ruptured. I’ve been wearing various wraps and braces but they were dissatisfying. Something was needed, as the ankle felt unstable. I became incredibly mindful how it was placed and employed.

My wife talked me into getting a Bioskin TriLock brace. Been using it for three days. It’s providing needed stability and is reasonably comfortable. Putting it on properly does need practice and thought.

I’d noticed I was compensating for the injured foot. Other places were beginning to feel stressed and mis-aligned. These were just what was being noticed; imagine what was being damaged and stressed under the radar.

Seeing an ortho surgeon in a few weeks. We’ll see where it goes from there.

Happy Saturday.

4

Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

I have a nephew who is starting at the University of Pittsburgh this fall. He auditioned for the band as a trumpet player and was accepted, so he’s already moved into his dorm room so he can attend band camp. Yes, I am pleased and excited on his behalf, and I’m very proud of him.

Today, we found out that one of our friends here in Ashlandia has a niece starting college. Know where this is going? Yes, she’s attending the University of Pittsburgh. And she plays the trumpet. And she’s in the band. And she’s moved into her dorm room already because she’s attending band camp.

It’s like six degrees of separation all over again. Do you know the movie?

0

Monday’s Wandering Thoughts

My wife related that she and her coffee group were talking about their required high school reading.

There’s a background to this. They go to StoneRidge Coffee in downtown Ashand after exercising at the Y three mornings a week. Their favorite barista, Shawn (sp?), had been on a big reading kick, reading many novels that we consider classics, like Catch 22 and Catcher in the Rye. Today he announced that he won’t be working there any longer because he’ll be teaching high school in Grants Pass. My wife’s group wondered if that’s why he’d been on a reading tear.

They couldn’t remember what they’d read in high school, though. They did recall that they had to read The Pearl by Steinbeck and several of Shakespeare’s plays. The only one they remembered reading was Romeo & Juliet.

After being told this, I recalled reading MacBeth and Hamlet. I also recalled reading The Red Badge of Courage, Beowulf, Call of the Wild, excerpts out of Dante’s Infernal (as we knew it in school) and The Red Pony. I mentioned that what I most remembered reading, though, were short stories. I vividly remember reading A Jury of Her Peers, The Girls at the A&P, The Visitor, Greenleaf, and The Lottery. They each made quite an impression on me. Besides that, there was some Emily Dickinson, Edgar Allan Poe, and then poems by Frost and Whitman, and essays out of Walden: Life in the Woods.

It’s all a bit sketch, though. Because I enjoyed reading fiction on my own and read Catch 22 and Catcher in the Rye. Papillion was big as a novel then — this was before the movie — as was the Lord of the Rings trilogy and The Hobbit, and Stranger in a Strange Land. Besides that stuff, I was reading a lot of science fiction and fantasy, along with spy thrillers (think Fleming and Le Carre). Then there was Jaws by Peter Benchley, and other popular fiction like that, such as Fear of Flying, Portnoy’s Complaint, In Cold Blood, The Onion Field, To Kill A Mockingbird, The Bell Jar, The Drifters, Centennial, The Thorn Birds, Hotel, Airport, The World According to Garp, Cancer Ward, and Herzog.

I was also involved with the Junior Great Books program for several years, and was required to read their books, stories, and essays, muddying up memory a little more. Further complicating it are courses in French, Russian, Jewish, and American literature in college.

All those books and titles start running together after a while, you know? At least for me. I admire those who can keep it all straight.

1

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑