Tag: military

Sunday’s Theme Music — Rolling on

Ashland, southern Oregon — November 1, 2026.

November has arrived, and it looks tired out there today. Dispirited. Like it’s beginning with a hangover. Limp with rain and moisture, many leaves have surrendered, leaving their trees almost naked. The remaining leaves appear dull, as if they’re just hanging on.

Fog and mists cut down the light and block the views. It’s warmer today, already 43 F, with a high of 53 possible.

Mom sent out a text to Gina (my sister) yesterday. Mom will give Gina $4K a month and apologize to Pat if she can come live with Gina.

The money aspect isn’t a concern for Gina. It’s always been about Mom’s accusations about Pat and her refusal to apologize to him for what she claimed he did to her. Mom claimed that Pat spied on her all the time, took and hid her remote, and used an ‘invisible device’ on her head to cause her pain.

I don’t know what will come of this. Texts exploded yesterday after Gina and Mom became angry again, with Gina threatening not to take Mom to her appointment or to vote next week.

With November here, the midterm elections are at last in reach. I’m feeling the anxiety that many others. One, a hope that there is a blue wave.

Two, a worry that there won’t be a blue wave.

Three, a worry that there is a blue wave and Trump reacts by inciting violence. There is infamous precedence for that.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Yes, that was Donald Trump — the ‘peace president’, the one who never condones violence — after he lost the 2020 election and the results were being certified. Yet, Trump has sanctioned and cheered the violence done in his name, and the GOP says little.

For whatever reasons, the Bachman-Turner Overdrive song, “Roll On Down the Highway”, is being cranked through my morning mental music stream.

The song was released in 1975. I was in my first year of service in the US Air Force and my wife was a senior in high school. She graduated and we married, and this was part of our soundtrack of the time.

Today, my mind is stuck on the chorus, “Let it roll, down the highway.” It’s a reflection for me that I’m ready for some changes. The dice are thrown. Let’s see how they roll.

I hope the dice roll breaks in your favor today and everyday. Have a peaceful and joyous Sunday.

Cheers

4

Two Dreams about People

In the first dream, I was a younger adult, working somewhere that wasn’t clearly defined. I seemed happy and was busy working when a trio – two men and a woman – arrived.

The woman started chatting to me. I didn’t even realize she was with the men. Then the men approached. One mentioned something about Major Malasky.

I whirled with surprise. The men were short, white, with trim hair. Clean shaves, they were dark gray suits, white shirts with dark, narrow ties, and dark gray fedoras. Like G men.

“I knew a Major Ray Malasky,” I said. “We worked together. He was a navigator. 7405th in Germany. We were a covert unit.” I chuckled, knowing, yes, the program had been declassified but still uncomfortable talking about it. “Ray was a good guy.”

I looked around for mementos from that assignment. I’d just been showing them with the woman, I realized – and they were gone. Surprised, I leaped to the conclusion that she had taken them and began searching for her. As I did, the two men excused themselves and left. Going to a window, I saw them meet her. The three hurried away, leaving me astonished.

In the next dream, I was walking along a street on a sidewalk. It was a sunny, pleasant day. A bright red car was ahead. This was boxy shaped like the Kia Soul or the Honda Element, but it was bright, shiny red with small wheels. It also had a round window on the driver’s door.

The window was pivoted open. As I walked towards it, I saw that someone was inside the car. They reached up and closed the round driver’s window. I then saw it was one of my real-life current neighbors, Neil. Seeing me, he opened the window but stayed reclined, though he did nod at me.

I nodded back. I had the impression he was resting and wondered why he was resting in his car. I figured that Neil must have a reason for being out of his house. Maybe his house was being worked on. Painted. Or they were fumigating it. Who knows?

I accepted that there was a reason for him to be resting in his car and walked on.

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Trump, the News, My Wife

My wife is pissed.

She unleashed a rant this morning, growing angrier as she spoke. The focus of her ire was dual: Trump and his remarks about Iran taking out a couple American cities, and the news coverage of it.

Actually, her ire grew because of how Nebraskans reacted, laughing and cheering. I don’t know which aspect of this pissed her off more.

First, she found Trump’s comments, made in a speech in Nebraska about Iran ‘taking out San Diego or Los Angeles’ as treasonous. “A President should not be suggesting things like that.”

What triggered her was the ho-hum coverage in so much of the media. “They’re writing it off as, oh, that’s just Trump being Trump! That’s one of the big problems with our country. They keep normalizing this insane shit that Trump says.” She went on with a louder, angrier tone about this.

Then, though, her anger punched through the roof as she talked about Nebraskans’ reaction. “They laughed and cheered. Oh, those are California cities! Who cares! Well, hello, Nebraska. What would you think if Trump suggested that Iran could take out Omaha. How would you feel then?

“Did they even think about what he was saying. Do they know how much California contributes to the economy? Think your fertilizer prices are high now? How much higher those prices are going to be if the ports of Los Angeles and San Diego are gone!

“California has a huge economy! Think of all the subsidies that the government would no longer be able to pay if two California cities are destroyed. And what about the radioactive fallout? What do they think, that it’s not going to spread to more of the country, that it’s not going to drift over the Midwest?

“And look how much of the military would be damaged! The Navy has a fleet stationed there, marines!”

She was furious by this point. “I don’t care why Trump said it. No American should cheer that. No human should cheer that kind of killing and destruction.

“Even if he was just suggesting that if he didn’t take action, nobody should be cheering the possibility of someone nuking and killing someone else.”

I think I correctly conveyed the gist of what my wife said. Hard to say, because she was going loud, fast — and angry.

14

Survival Mode Dream

I was part of a military unit. A light colonel – a commander from my real life – led us. Something disastrous had happened, and we’d shifted into holding on, bracing for attacks and problems. Food, water, and fuel were all issues.

Second in command, we had a dozen people. All were much younger than the commander and me. The weather seemed consistently dark and cloudy. Rain was often falling.

I started out required to make suggestions to the commander. He then agreed or not, and gave orders. My suggestions were about needing shifts,  requiring everyone to collect and bring food, man the place and keep watch.

We arrived back in the morning as scheduled. Still a dark, rainy day. Part of our structure was gone. I suggested to the commander, maybe we should move our people inside the rest of the structure, to get us out of the rain.

“No,” he said. “Put them on the covered porch.”

I ordered that, but saw at that point that my commander had recognized that I was thinking about things. Touching my shoulder, he told me, “Supervise them. Get them set up and ready.”

I agreed. We had an engine. It ran a generator which gave us electricity. I’d seen the commander add oil to it the previous day. I went to the engine to do the same. The way he’d done it before didn’t make sense with what I saw. This was a Chevy V8, and it was running. I knew it was important to keep the engine running. The engine steamed as rain drops hit.

I checked fluid levels. Gas, oil, etc., were all topped off. I worried that I was overlooking something and decided, I didn’t know enough about how the engine worked. I needed to learn more.

People reported in to work, bringing food and water with them, including doughnuts. Thanking the people for them, I ordered the doughnuts to be shared, encouraging everyone to eat.

Reports came in – I’m not sure of the mechanism – that enemy forces weren’t far off. I directed people to take positions as lookouts. Someone asked if we should launch a drone.

I knew we had a drone but we also had a plane. I directed that both be launched.

They were launched but we weren’t getting images from other. I went outside to see where they were in the sky, which had turned apricot but was marbled with gray and black. Craning my head back, holding my hat on, I couldn’t see the plane or drone.

My commander asked me what I was doing. I told him, and he replied, “Good idea.” Others came out to also look. None of us could see either aircraft.

“I think the enemy destroyed them,” I said with worry.

The situation is getting grim, I thought.

Dream end.

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Sunday’s Theme Song — Promises

Ashland, southern Oregon. Sunday, October 4, 2026.

Supposed to be bright, sunny, and hot today, but clouds swamped three fourths of the sky, and sunshine struggled to be seen and felt. Never reached close to the 90 which was forecast, but it’s now 83 F.

Dreamed last night that I was in basic training. When I awoke and saw the date, I realized it was the anniversary of my first enlistment. October 4, 1974, I took my first oath. Twenty years later, I declared done.

I remember that first day. Rainy and overcast. Went in oh dark thirty. Was given a meal voucher for breakfast at a nearby local diner. Then had lunch at the same place with another voucher. We didn’t take off until late that afternoon.

That was my first time in an airplane, too. Flew from West Virginia, where I then lived, to San Antonio, Texas, via some other city.

It was a Friday, too. When we arrived at Lackland AFB, Texas, to begin basic training, we were informed there weren’t enough to make a full flight. We wouldn’t begin training until the following Tuesday, and spent the extended weekend in silence in our civies, waiting to begin.

Yes, welcome to the military. That’s how it was during my entire career: hurry up, then wait, then GO!

I spoke with Mom today. She called so I ended up chatting with her for an hour, just talking about life in the assisted living facility, Heritage Grove, Penn Hills. While I was speaking with her, my wife took a call on the home line and we learned that our friend, Larry, passed away at 3 AM this morning.

Larry was 96, and a military veteran. Obtaining a degree from Purdue via the GI Bill, he ended up as an engineer and an executive in the aerospace industry. After college, he lived and worked most of his life in the Los Angeles, California, area, moving up here to Ashland after retiring. He was married and adopted and raised two children and had two grandchildren. Although staunchly conservative and Republican, he was intelligent, trustworthy, and fun. I’ll miss him.

I read the NYT’s coverage of a 2026 Trump rally. They’re heavy with promise and rituals: attack the Democrats, maybe throw in a commie scare. Lie about multiple things. Donald Trump will use profanity — his fans love it when he uses profanity, because he’s telling it like it is, isn’t he? Trump sometimes claims prices are way down, which probably surprises anyone who regularly shops.

At many stops this year, Trump is begging people to support AI and data center construction. It’s the primary commercial construction now underway. He might claim the US already won against Iran, or he might threaten Iran with more bombing.

What is so sad is that after the many lies Donald Trump has made, and after all the promises that Donald Trump has broken, his brand of chaos, hatred, and bigotry still serve a portion of the Republican party.

Today’s music is by Incubus. The 2011 song, “Promises, Promises” did not come from reading the news. It came instead while listening to my mother talk about the inherent promises made — work hard, save your money, buy a house, raise a familiar — all that American dream debris, will bring you happy closure when you pass away. Mom relates that she and her gang of assisted living friends refer to their new home as jail — three hots and a cot.

I hope you live up to the promises you make, and that others fulfill the promises they make to you.

I also hope that promise and swear to Vote Blue in November, 2026.

Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music — Run

Ashland, southern Oregon. Sunday, September, 27, 2026.

A full-fledged fall day here — cool at 63 degrees F, warming to 73 today, with sunshine breaking through cloud blockades.

All quiet with Mom today. My sister, Gina, called Mom to see what was needed and she could help. That seemed to mollify Mom. Not to make light of it, or anything, because Mom’s needs are real. But she becomes fixated, and it often seems to stem from her sense of helplessness and isolation.

Today’s theme song is “Run Like Hell” by Pink Floyd. The song was on the album “The Wall”, released in 1979. My younger cousin was so into Pink Floyd and tremendously excited when this album came out. I was stationed at Randolph AFB in Texas at the time. He lived not far away, in San Antonio. We had a lot of fun when we could hook up. Sadly, he passed away from cancer a few years ago. I can’t hear any song off “The Wall” without remembering him.

The Neurons plugged the song into the morning mental music stream today after seeing a Robert Reich Bluesky post.

“I feel optimistic about the midterm elections, just over five weeks away. But my stomach aches when I think of what’s at stake. Call me nauseously optimistic“

Yes, that’s me, too. And if Trump loses, many will see it as validation that Trump is wildly unpopular and unsuccessful. Angry as hell, Trump will probably tilt more into authoritarian ignorance and violence, while shouting, “Cheating! National emergency!”

“Run Like Hell” is about a rock star who orders an attack on the riff raff, so it’s appropriate as hell for my feelings today. I’m optimistic, nauseous and anxious, and quite ready to metamorphically run like hell.

Sample Lyrics

You better run all day
And run all night
And keep your dirty feelings
Deep inside.

I hope you have no need to run like hell today unless it’s because you decide to run out and get a favorite treat for yourself. Remember to treat yourself kindly and try to do unto others as you’d have them do unto you.

Back to coffee, writing, hopes, and dreams.

Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Ashland, southern Oregon. Saturday, September 26, 2026.

The roads are never ending.

Autumn lines today’s road with beautiful trees and a blue sky. I saw a single white cloud. Not large or small, it was oblong shaped and thin looking. Blue streaks thinned more of it, like someone had tried to scape it from the sky.

We hit the low 70s today. Just a cool, calm, chill day. Tonight’s low temperature will dip into the mid 40s.

Texting with Mom occupied some time. She repeatedly calls and texts. And we’re apparently expected to instantly answer, take her call, etc. If we don’t then she accuses us of ignoring, abandoning, or avoiding her.

I am doing some of that. As my sister, Gina, won’t answer Mom, Mom comes to me to be her intermediary. Gina told me she hasn’t blocked Mom, but like me, she’s busy and a little weary. I honestly told Mom I don’t immediately respond because I’m busy and I’m emotionally, physically, and mentally weary. Yes, Mom contributes to some of that, but so does other things happen in our existence. She took it well.

Today’s song is “Big Empty” by the Stone Temple Pilots, often known as STP. The song came out in 1993 and became part of my music rotation as I commuted around Mountain View, Palo Alto, and Sunnyvale, CA. The Neurons tipped the song into my morning mental music stream when I was thinking about conversations with Mom. If you know the lyrics, you can get that.

Sample Lyrics

Drivin’ faster in my car
Falling farther from just what we are
Smoke a cigarette, and lie some more, these conversations kill
Falling faster in my car

Time to take her home, her dizzy head is conscience laden
Time to take a ride, it leaves today, no conversation
Time to take her home, her dizzy head is conscience laden
Time to wait too long, to wait too long, to wait too long

Too much walkin’, shoes worn thin
Too much trippin’, and my soul’s worn thin
Time to catch a ride, it leaves today, her name is what it means
Too much walkin’, shoe’s worn thin

Time to take her home, her dizzy head is conscience laden
Time to take a ride, it leaves today, no conversation
Time to take her home, her dizzy head is conscience laden
Time to wait too long, to wait too long, to wait too long

May this autumn day in the north, spring day below the equator bring you good company and delicious meals.

Cheers

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A Travel Dream

My wife and I were traveling together. Young adults, I’m in the military again.

We were traveling to some fancy do. Although the details of that weren’t shared in the dream, we were pretty excited.

We arrived at some huge airport. She went off to do something. I wandered, and then drifted into an aircrew lounge. People went to block me from entering, but the officers in there recognized me and invited me in. At least a dozen friends from my Air Force life, pilots and navigators, were in there.

Settling in with them, I watched a baseball game on television for a while. When I saw the score, I asked, “When did this happen?”

Leaving there, I went to find my wife. We connected. I was now carrying her formal gown along with my dress uniform. I realized our flight was supposed to be boarding. On the heels of that, I thought, we need to be in the military terminal. I ran out into the growing wet dusk to hurry there. Where my wife was and why she wasn’t with me was completely overlooked in the dream. As I looked down the airport tarmac, I decided that the military terminal was too far inside and raced back inside

Connecting with my wife again, we hurried to board. Somehow, we boarded through the aircraft’s rear. So we were onboard but didn’t have seats.

The aircraft’s interior was like a large building with stairs, lounges, little sitting areas, etc. I looked for staff to help us find a seat, which was odd as we were passing orange seats that weren’t occupied, but couldn’t find help.

My wife said, “We need to get to the wide part. How do we get to the wide part?”

Looking around at the tall ceilings and seating areas, I mused, “This all looks pretty wide to me.”

Dream end

0

Sunday’s Theme Music — Guns, Guns, Guns

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.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

It’s classic, irritating Trump to me. On the one hand, Trump boasts of building the world’s most powerful military and proposes a huge military budget. On the other hand, he’s reducing the US military power as ‘rifles and pistols’. As if we don’t already have stealth fighters and bombers, ICBMs, space and other space, land, and sea-based weapon systems.

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.

Cheers



1

Monday’s Theme Music — Passing On

Ashland, southern Oregon. Monday, September 14, 2026.

Autumn continues showing in the valley here, with leaves putting on their fall foliage of reds, golds, yellows, and orange. Leaves haven’t begun aggressively falling.

It’s 57 F right now. Today’s high will be 79 F. We’re going into summer’s last fling. It feels and smells more like autumn today.

Another rock guitarist passed away. Cheetah Chrome, lead guitarist for the Dead Boys, passed away at 71. I had their debut album, “Young, Loud, and Snotty”. Picked it up when it came out in 1977. My wife, mother, sisters, and cousins all professed to hate it.

I got great joy out of their response. Punk wasn’t about being ‘liked’. I admired how it reshaped what music could, should, and would be. People often prefer things be put into neat boxes, especially pop music, art, and literature.

It also pleased me to surprise others that I, a young Air Force NCO with, trim hair, tidy dress, enjoyed the raucousness that punk often delivered.

In these times of Trump, I think punk, rock, and rap all need to make a resurgence, establish a new identity. Don’t know if that’s in the young musicians of these times. Of course, I’m not tuned in to it. Older now, to label what I am. *smile*

Here’s to the punkers, and to Chrome. Here is “Sonic Reducer.”

May the punker in you never waste away.

Cheers

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