Friday’s Theme Music — Excursions

Ashland, southern Oregon — Friday, May 29, 2026.

Other months have gone by so fast for me this year. May feels like it’s dragging. Looking at the calendar, I’m surprised two more days remain in May.

I looked back at a post last year in May I wrote. I was complaining about the rain then, too. Today is gloomy, rainy, showery, 53 F with 64 high expected. Papi had to bring his outside show inside where he can sleep in dry warmth. Right now, he’s balled himself tight on the bed, eyes closed, snooze position assumed.

My sisters and their others have feverishly worked on cleaning and emptying Mom’s house, preparing it for the realtor’s photos and staging, and making a little money from Mom’s goods. Mom’s bedroom is empty, as is her tiny dining room.

Funny, though, Mom has actually used four different rooms as her bedroom. When she first bought the house, the upstairs was rented out as an apartment. So Mom’s bedroom was what was the dining room. Then she took the top floor back and moved into the ‘big’ bedroom. When Frank moved in, they shared that room for a while. When she started her medical issues, she moved into a smaller room because it was the only one with an air conditioner. Then, last year, with her mobility faltering, the back porch was re-purposed as her bedroom. A beautiful space, she was only in there for a few months.

I visited Mom, noting the changes. Each marked another season of Mom. I think she’s in her final season now.

My wife continues here cleaning/purging frenzy. A drawer, cupboard, or closet each day is done. She sets items out for me to judge: what do they go to? Do we need them? Do they work? What should we do with them?

She told me, “This is the easy stuff. I’m dreading when I get to the big stuff, the things that really matter. It’s going to be tough.”

Over on the Trump front, it’s amazing how quickly the performer lineup for Trump’s America 250 celebration is changing. The venue is called ‘The Great American State Farm’. Many of the artists said they had no idea that it was associated with Trump and turned it down after learning of his involvement. It’s almost like the Trump brand is tainted.

Food prices are up. The NYT reports: “Prepare for sticker shock as summer barbecue season heats up: The price of beef is sizzlingly high. Grilled sirloin will cost more than $14 a pound, on average, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, up 20 percent since last year.”

Sirloin is not alone as a higher price from a year ago:

• Tomatoes — 39.7 percent
• Instant coffee — 22.8 percent
• Coffee — 18.5 percent
• Uncooked beef roasts — 17.8 percent
• Roasted coffee — 17.3 percent

Trump has failed to lower the prices, though. Instead, his actions and policies keep driving food prices up. Energy prices are up, thanks to Trump. And the supply chain has been disrupted, thanks to Trump.

The Trump Iran War continues. So, food prices will continue rising. Trump couldn’t lower them before the war; there’s no reason to believe he’ll be able to after the war — whenever his ‘excursion’ ends.

Besides the war going on, the Epstein files have not been released, and the $1 billion Epstein ballroom is still under construction.

Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! is in a quiet period.

Today’s music is “Purple Rain” by Prince. Two factors played into this. I was talking to Papi about the rain. I was also deciding what to wear. I felt a long sleeve shirt would be appropriate for today. However, I often wear purple on Fridays. I don’t have a long-sleeved purple shirt.

The Neurons put this all together. Voila! “Purple Rain” began playing in the morning mental music stream. Prince said about the song, “When there’s blood in the sky… red and blue = purple. Purple rain pertains to the end of the world and being with the one you love and letting your faith/God guide you through the purple rain.”

Seems right for this time, when we’re divided as a nation into red and blue, and purple is considered a swing area.

May your day be bright with peace and promise.

Cheers

Wednesday’s Theme Music – A Short Reminder

Ashland, southern Oregon — Wednesday, May 27, 2026.

Wet, gray morning. Furnace is running to keep us warm. 49 F. 72 is the day’s potential high. That depends on when the rain moves on.

We’re not getting a lot of rain, mind. Just showers off and on. Still, the cooler temperatures, while not my preference, are better than hot, dry conditions. Saves our water, etc.

Papi isn’t pleased with the weather. He came in wet and released a plaintive, “Meow,” that’s quite unlike him. Dried him with a towel and bribed him with treats. Now he’s vigorously grooming.

Spent an hour on the phone with Mom yesterday. She called to talk to me about my health. She sounded so tired and struggled to put words together and finish thoughts.

My sister got the power of attorney done and signed an agreement with a realtor to sell Mom’s house. Then I spent an hour with my sister, texting back and forth as she addressed her relationship with one of her daughters. It’s a challenging world. Always has been, a shifting spectrum of needs, problems, and expectations. Memories and history and differences add more unique elements to finding understanding and developing relationships.

Heard from Trump that he’s in perfect health. Despite his struggles with speaking, walking, and staying awake he aced everything! Trump is a documented liar, so I don’t believe a word of it.

Same with Trump’s war and ceasefire with Iran. Epstein files. Mexico and the wall. Golfing. Trump chose golfing over his son’s wedding. Just as he chose other women over his wife — sorry, wives. Oh, but then, Trump must have realized how bad the optics were, golfing instead of attending his son’s wedding, and changed his plans.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Trump paid for sex with Stormy Daniels in 2006. Melania is his third wife. In addition to his sex with Stormy Daniels, Trump allegedly had a ten-month affair with another woman, Karen McDougal, starting in 2006. Trump is also in the Epstein files but it’s unknown to what degree; just as he reneged on other promises, he reneged on his promise to release the Epstein files.

Instead of releasing the Epstein files, Trump began Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! Under this program:

The Epstein ballroom was first supposed to cost $200 million, and would be paid for by private donations. It would then cost 300, no, $400 million. Now the White House asked Congress for one billion dollars for it.

No, I don’t trust a word he says.

Many other Americans also are losing trust in Trump. His disapproval ratings are reaching record levels.

Yet, Republicans just keep walking away from everything Trump does. That thought inspired The Neurons. As I shook my head, dismayed again, The James Gang with Joe Walsh on guitar and vocals, began playing “Walk Away” in the morning mental music stream.

Trump is trashing historic norms and trust in the government. Unlike the GOP, I just can’t walk away.

Hope you have a day memorable with good times, good friends, and good foods.

Cheers

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Ashland, southern Oregon — Tuesday, May 26, 2026.

We’re mired in a gloomy late spring day. Dull sunshine seeps down through swollen rain clouds. 48 F now; 60 F later.

Despite this cool temperature and rain clouds, the drought is already browning the valley. A wildfire was fought and put out not too far away. The air this morning smells like the remains of a sodden bonfire.

Many of my Pittsburgh family members gathered at the youngest’s house for a BBQ. They also played Kornhole and shared social media photos of the gathering. All my sisters were there with their partners. Most of their children and grands, and their children’s partners. Some were missing, as there was a baseball tournament where they were playing. And other than my sister, the Georgia contingent was absent. Of course, Mom and Frank weren’t there in a long line of firsts we’ll encounter this year.

In Trump Iran War news, the US broke the ceasefire. That was okay, though, because it was the United States, which, under Trump, doesn’t follow the rules and norms. That generally leads to anger, reprisal, uncertainty, and confusion. We’ll see how it goes this time.

The Trump administration labeled these ‘self-defense’ strikes. Funny how self-defense is ‘needed’ when there’s a ceasefire on, and the war is over or almost over, and the US won, which are all things which Trump claimed.

The war is now into it 87th day.

The full Epstein files have not been released.

Prices are rising.

The Epstein ballroom funding is short of its need.

The Trump tariffs ruled illegal by the Roberts Court are being refunded to businesses. Consumers beginning to sue businesses to get their share of the tariff refunds.

I’m reading the novel, “James”, by Percival Everestt. James had a wonderful line:

“Religion is just a controlling tool they employ and adhere to when convenient.”

That summarizes my attitude toward not just religion, but how patriotism is invoked in the US — especially by Trump — and also how I see the Constitution now often being employed.

Of course, ‘they’ do it with team and family, as well: “We’re one team!” “We’re a family!”

True when it’s useful to be true.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Today’s music comes from a glance in the bathroom mirror. I laughed at my reflection. I look less like Mom or Dad than I used to, I thought, and sort of reflected on that. (No, I am not sorry for that phrase!)

Seeing an open door, The Neurons came in with “Mirror in the Bathroom” by English Beat in the morning mental music stream. It’s such a classic 1980s sound for me. Brings flashbacks and smiles.

Lyrics:

Mirror in the bathroom, please talk free
The door is locked, just you and me

I hope for the best for you, your family, home, and region. Stay strong.

Cheers

Monday’s Theme Music

Ashland, southern Oregon — Monday, May 25, 2026.

Sunny, cloudy, dry. 60 F with 81 potentially the high. Rain is expected. The sky has that look, and the air has that skin.

It’s Memorial Day in the US, as specified by Congress in the 1968 Uniform Monday Holiday Act as one of the Monday holidays. The act was about creating three-day weekends for Federal employees. I recall as a youth hearing about it being promoted. They said at that time that it was for productivity; the Monday holidays would interfere less with business and the work week, and would be could for the economy because people could take mini-vacations during the three-day weekends.

My wife’s family knew it as Decoration Day. They always observed it by going to the family cemetery and cleaning up the grave markers and cemetery and decorating them with flowers.

My family always celebrated it by having cook-outs. Others call this a ‘barbeque’ or ‘barbecue’, or even grilling out. It was a day of eating, fun and games for us. For a few years, this meant going out to Keystone Lake. We’d pile into the car before 8 AM so we could beat the traffic, get good parking, and have a good picnic spot. Then full and exhausted, we’d head for home before one. Which was okay because we often had rain showers in the afternoon.

Back home, we’d have watermelon and leftovers. Mom made terrific potato salad, and fried chicken. We’d also have apple pie, chips, cookies, burgers, and hot dogs.

Now it’s just another Monday for me, another pause to look back on what was and what would never be.

I read about the rains and floods striking the eastern and southern states. Good luck and safe harbor to all of them, and the animals.

Also read that Trump is going to the hospital for some checks and dental work tomorrow. Is it part of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! to distract us from the war in Iran, high gas, food, and energy prices, grift, corruption, and Epstein ballroom?

It could be a ploy to gain sympathy after the latest White House shooting didn’t move the needle on Trump’s declining approval ratings.

Or, Trump could really be ill. He looks and acts the part.

This may be all three — a diabolically clever ‘weave’ by the self-professed genius to confuse us about what’s going on. The biggest problem with his weave is that he often entangles himself. Reality, lies, and fantasy fuse into a glaze of uncertainty, changing directions, and contradictory words and behavior. The truth is, his weave confuses him more than it does us.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Here, as part of Trump’s clever weave, the person who referred to himself as a unifier denigrates others with childish nicknames. That was the same speech in which he considered himself a peacemaker. This was a little while before he began blowing things up and killing people.

Trump also said in that speech that he hoped his election would bring “a new spirit of unity to a world that has been angry, violent, and totally unpredictable.”

Irony is completely lost on him.

Bonus Trump Quote:

“It will be the exact opposite of the JCPOA disaster negotiated by the failed Obama Administration, which was a direct and open path to a Nuclear Weapon for Iran. No, I don’t do deals like that! President DJT.”

Yes, because that was quite a disaster. No war, no death. No rising oil prices because of a closed strait. No rising food and energy prices because of the rising oil prices. No strain on our military because of wanton bombing and ship deployments.

Oh, yeah, and they weren’t working on their nuclear program. That didn’t begin until Trump withdrew from the JCPOA.

Yep. Quite a ‘disaster’.

Today’s theme music comes from an exchange with my wife. Standard one: “How’d you sleep?” she asked.

“I slept great,” I said. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good.”

Those words awoke The Neurons. They immediately summoned John Prine to the morning mental music stream. I soon had him singing, “Pretty Good” in my head.

Hope you have a pretty good day, and a pretty good week, too.

This coffee tastes pretty good right now.

Cheers

The Cork Dream

I dreamed I was at my mother’s house. It wasn’t her real-life house but I knew what it was in my dream. Although everything was white, there was little light.

I was trying to open some kind of cistern. As it transpired, I knew that it was wine I tried opening, to see how it was. It was supposed to be red wine.

I was being very careful, meticulous, because I worried about the cork falling apart. But it wasn’t the ‘traditional’ cork stopper, but a round, flat circle.

My youngest sister joined me. She asked what I was doing and I softly explained it as she leaned over me and watched. I had just gotten the safely out when something fell into the wine.

I asked my sister, “Did you see that?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Was that a piece of the cork falling in?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so.” I sat back. “All that work and I got it out and then it broke and fell in.”

I smiled at her. “Oh, well.”

Laughing, she replied, “I know.”

Friday’s Theme Music

Newport, Oregon — Saturday, May 22, 2026.

It’s 54 F with a high of 60 in sight. The waves are calmer, but the wind continues ransacking the beach. Nobody is down there right now. I did see four small figures walking it an hour ago…

We opened our laptops to see if Trump passed away or if the war was over. Big news is that some Republicans said no to Trump’s ballroom drone port military underground bunker funding request of a cool billion. Seems like its elections optics and not principles. Few are bothering to recall that Trump said it would be built with donations and cost just two hundred million and the American taxpayers would pay nothing.

One of those ‘standing up’ is Susan Collins, who exhibits the same moral fortitude as a feather on the wind. Yeah, I’ not impressed.

Trump’s response: attack those who said no, etc. Says, paraphrasing, ‘This is all according to the plan and we’ve been saying it all along.’ Sure; that’s why there’s no evidence online of that. Question: does he think us all that stupid, or is he that stupid?

He’ll probably steal, er, shift the money from somewhere else. That’s his MO. Screw the laws, constitution, all that.

It’s all part of the same game for him: launch a war, say it’s over, promise it will be over shortly, tell us that it’s not long compared to other wars, tell us it’s not a way. Just like his healthcare plan that never arrived. His promises to lower prices day one. Claim that he’ll ‘fix’ the Lincoln Reflecting Pool for 1.8 million which becomes over ten million.

Still waiting on the Epstein files.

My sister, Gina, is busy selling Mom’s household items and pushing to get the house sold. I admire her energy level and remain really thankful that she’s there to do these things.

Today’s music is by Damn Yankees. I don’t know why “High Enough” is in the morning mental music stream today. It could have to do with a dream, I suppose. The Neurons aren’t connecting the dots for me.

I hope your day goes well, and you go to bed satisfied with what’s transpired for you.

Time for Operation Epic Find Food.

Cheers

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Florence, Oregon — Wednesday, May 20, 2026.

To clarify, we’re actually staying at Heceta Beach, 3 miles north of Florence. Heard from the catsitter. Papi has adjusted to her presence and her feeding him, and is basically acting just as if we’re there.

It’s 60 F now, on its way to 63 F. Here’s this morning beach photo.

We’ve had wonderful, fresh, tasty food everywhere we’ve eaten, and have only met nice folks. Hope to hell I’m not jinxing this by mentioning it.

Yesterday was a bad day for Mom and my sister Gina, Mom’s defacto caregiver. Mom had another UTI, was complaining of dizziness and headaches. Gina took her to urgent care. They said Mom’s UTI isn’t responding to antibiotics and needs something stronger and had Gina take her to a hospital, UPMC East. Well, that was an eight hour ordeal for them, with miscommunication between the two care facilities.

Mom was back into her room around midnight. Gina was shocked at its state; disorganized and messy. Very un-Mom. Mom denies her dizziness is a problem but Gina said she complained about it multiple times. XRays and CT Scans showed nothing.

Gina is also frustrating because the other sisters are ‘too busy’ to help with Mom. She ended up transferring Mom from car to wheelchair to bed, and back, etc, eighteen times yesterday.

Poor Mom. Poor Gina.

This is life.

Haven’t looked at the news this morning. Don’t want to disrupt the vacay vibe by doing that before I’ve had my daily wine and beer. I mean, coffee. Yeah, that’s what I meant.

I did see that Trump’s Iran War is not over. The price of gas is shocking here. Diesel prices are almost at $7 a gallon.

Trump mocked that as ‘peanuts’. He insists he’s a man on a mission to stop Iran from having nuclear weapons, no matter how much pain it cause US citizens and the world. Sure; we believe that. It’s all just part of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!

Today’s song is “Boys of Summer”. Written by Mike Campbell, a guitarist who played and wrote with Tom Petty, Petty turned the song down. Don Henley took it and had a hit in 1984.

The Neurons put it in the morning mental music stream because several times, I looked out at the beach and saw, “Nobody on the beach.” Recognizing the line from the song, I suppose Les Neurons thought I was trying to remember it.

I hope your day progresses in a satisfying way. I find that coffee helps, along with staying well hydrated with other fluids.

Off to begin Operation Epic Eat Breakfast.

Cheers

At the Goodwill

My wife and I are on the Oregon coast. We ate a wonderful fresh breakfast at the Fresh Harvest Cafe. Then we hit the local Goodwill.

My wife enjoys visiting Goodwill stores. She likes bargains and she likes re-using things. She did say today, “I’m not buying anything new. I’m death cleaning so whenever I see something I want, I just tell myself, ‘You’ll just have to throw it out.'” Books are the exceptions. We bought four, two for each of us.

Killing time, I wander the store and write a short story in my head. It’s about a future Goodwill. Dystopian situation. A guy ransacks an unused house. There’s a lot of them. Finding a cache of shot glasses, he brings them to the Goodwill. They give him a small bag of peanuts for them. He sits outside in the sunshine, savoring every nut as he eats them.

My sister texted me about her grandson’s birthday. He’s already fifteen, thoroughly discombobulating my brain, which still thinks of him as much younger. His mother is still a teenager in my thoughts. To see that he’s now a teenager is too much. I do the slow math; I was fifty-five when he was born. Time, you know?

Sis tells me that her grandson went to an Escape Room for his birthday. Muses gather in my head to conceptualize fiction about Escape Rooms.

Sis interrupts with a text abut Mom. She’s taken Mom to Urgent Care for another suspected UTI. Mom complains about dizziness as she Mom gets in and out of her wheelchair and the car.

Browsing Goodwill shelves, I see things which might be in my home. I go through an aisle of tools and imagine my tools in there.

I believe I have seen the future.

Leaving the building, I breath in fresh air and smile at the sunshine on my face.

The Stuff

Mom has moved out of her house and into an assisted living facility.

A household of things have been left behind that we need to move to sell her house. That includes clothing, paintings, vases, dishes, appliances, furniture, electronics. My sisters contacted liquidators and estate sales businesses to see if they would do it for a cut.

Short answer: no. Not enough of value to make it worthwhile.

I wasn’t overly surprised. Mom has tons of clothing and shoes but none is really vintage. She has furniture but the agents said that furniture is a hard sale these days.

My wife and I talked about this in relation to our own life. Adverse to an estate sale after she passes on, my wife has been doing a slow-roll death clean: a drawer a day. A closet. Organizing, tossing, donating. She used to refer to it as simplifying; now she just calls it the death clean.

It’s one of the places where we diverge on our philosophies. I consider my life busy and frantic enough to do without going through my belongings to see what I still want and want I need to throw away or donate. I do so sometimes, but I don’t make it part of my daily or weekly routines.

This exchange summarizes it for us. My wife said, “I don’t want people having to come through the house to get rid of things for me.”

I replied, “I don’t care. I won’t be there.”

As I walk around the house, I wonder, what would the estate sales agents say to me?

I suspect they’ll tell me the same thing they said about Mom’s stuff.

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