Tag: Mom

Thursday’s Theme Music — Driving Me Crazy

Ashland, southern Oregon. Thursday, August 27, 2026.

Another cool morning — 62 F right now — which will see temperatures in the mid to upper 80s again. No clouds are in view, just blue sky over a brown and green landscape.

Had beers with friends last night. Talking about Dolly Parton dominated. All admired her talents and abilities, but we addressed her sense of humor and willingness to support others more than anything. She’s left a tremendous legacy of kindness, a beacon of light in this nasty Trump era.

Mom is sick this week. She’s complaining of being in pain everywhere and freezing. I’ve asked for updates but she’s not responding, and my sisters aren’t communicating with Mom. The assisted living facility won’t tell me about her because security; they don’t know me.

Our conversations last night about what’s going on in the United States often circled back to the same point: Just when you thought it couldn’t get any crazier, it does.

Then I was reading about a rancher who is upset about Trump’s policies which were affecting her. She defended her vote for Trump, and it’s essentially because she worries about transgender children and her offspring being exposed to transgender children. Yes, oh my!

Which brings me to one of the most ludicrous things Trump ever said, and that’s a long list.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

It’s an absolutely batshit crazy claim. These weren’t off hand remarks. This was Trump campaigning to lead the nation, feeding their fears and petty anxieties. And they have been absolutely debunked.

Just like Trump’s claims of stolen elections.

Does Trump believe what he said that day in August?

Doesn’t matter to me if he believed it or not. He said it to fuel hatred and divide our nation. We are stronger as a nation if we’re all helping one another and pulling together and was — and keeps — deliberately undermining that critical premise.

And then Trump has the gall to claim that he wants to be remembered as a peacemaker and unifier.

A unifier does not deliberately use hatred to turn citizens against each other. Nor does a peacemaker. A peacemaker also doesn’t start an unnecessary war, as Trump did with Iran (now going into its sixth month). Nor does a peacemaker order the military to kill over two hundred people at sea without going through the legal system.

Yet MAGA seems to generally support this. They foster a “conditional unity”, which is, we will support your and your participation and existence, as long as you’re like or fit into our narrow definitions of genders, sexual orientation, skin color, place of birth, ethnicity.

We’ve learned these lessons before. Under Trump, they’re being dismantled.

Yet, there will come a time when we’ll need to learn and employ these lessons again.

Today’s morning mental music stream inhabitant is by FYC. FYC is Fine Young Cannibals, a Brit group. The song today is “She Drives Me Crazy”. The band released it in 1988 and it’s about love and relationships. Makes it apropos for today. The Neurons fed it to the MMMS after I was thinking about how Trump and his supporters drive me crazy.

Sample Lyrics

I can’t stop the way I feel
Things you do don’t seem real
Tell me what you’ve got in mind
‘Cause we’re running out of time
Won’t you ever set me free?
This waiting ’round’s killing me

Hope you’re rocking this day and making good time on your daily life goals. Be good to yourself and to each other.

Cheers

2

Done — But

The sale of Mom’s home was finalized today. The house now belongs to other people.

It’s a relief and a sadness.

Mom worked so hard to find and buy that house. Buying it was only the beginning as she redid it from top to bottom. Her children and sons-in-law helped, along with her boyfriend, Frank.

Mom’s house became a holiday sanctuary for several of us, a place to go to enjoy food, laugh, and share news. I resent the circumstances which forced Mom to move, but those circumstances were basically aging, health, decline. In other words, life.

As I always do with these things, I look back, sideways, forward, connecting Mom’s circumstances to others’ positions, including my own, my wife, her family, and the rest of my family and friends. I’m trying to look at the bright side of this. This is some, I’m sure. But it will take some time for that brightness to overtake the darkness I see at the moment.

I feel for Mom and where she is now. I hope that with the sale done, maybe she can relax and lean forward some. As with many losses, I don’t think it’s possible to fully heal. It’ll scar over. She’ll pick at it. I’m certain there will be mourning, regret, and many games of ‘what if’.

I wish that she could look back on what she did and celebrate that achievement. That’s where I’ll try to go, and I hope I can help her get there.

7

Tuesday’s Theme Music — Walk On

Ashland, southern Oregon. Tuesday, August 25, 2026. We’re into August’s final week. September begins next week.

Cooler day today. Cloudy this morning, there remains plentiful sunshine. 73 F, we’ll climb to 94.

Mom fell from her bed yesterday at the assisted living facility. We don’t know details, whether she rolled off or slipped off while sitting or missed the bed when she tried sitting on it. My niece, May, visited there yesterday and reported that the bed is very high. Mom texted me, the fix-it man was supposed to fix it but couldn’t because he was the cook. ?

Gina visited there today and reports, yes, it’s a tall bed. It’s stripped and she saw that it’s two thick mattresses. I asked, “Has it always been this tall?” Yes; this is the same bed Mom has used since arriving in February.

Mom has now been there a half year. It’s been a tumultuous time.

My wife and I are pissed about the Roberts Court decision regarding mail-in ballots. Basically, the POTUS, who has nothing to do with voting. That’s the states and Congress. But the Roberts Court walked a very fine line. Oh, the states filed too soon because they’re not yet being harmed by Trump’s efforts.

WTAF.

Not that Trump’s action are legal or illegal, or if has the authority to do this, etc. No, let’s wait and see, the Roberts Court declared. Kick it down the road. Wait till the election gets fucked up because the USPS isn’t delivering ballots. Then they’ll talk about it.

I was a conspiracist, I’d say the Roberts Court is trying to walk us into the state of midterm election chaos Trump wants so Trump can step in and declare an emergency.

Election fraud is another Trump boogey man. Just like his racism and his commie screams, he uses these words to instill fear and manipulate others.

Evidence of the voting fraud Trump screeches about is as scant as the cancer caused by windmills. Trump’s claims make as much sense as he did when he declared he’d lower prescription drug prices by more than 100%.

Trump is a weak person who thinks himself strong. I suspect the midterms will be as messy as Trump’s Iran War — reaching six months now, after he claimed it would be over in weeks — the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool fiasco, or the White House ballroom. It’s another case built on lies and false claims. It’s as reliable and substantial as AI-generated pictures of Trump as Jesus or Superman, or Trump with George Washington.

That is Trump: a fake. A con. A charlatan.

Thank you for your attention to this matter.

Trump has always called himself a great negotiator. But progress with Iran and Canada both verify, no, Trump is not a great negotiator. Despite Trump claims about what was done to Iran, the war continues. Prices continue rising and the affordability crisis grows.

Now, Trump’s negotiations with Canada has resulted in yet more pain for US consumers.

WSJ is dumbfounded by Trump’s dumb beef with Canada: it just ‘got dumber’

That’s Trump, too: dumb, and dumber.

Thinking about the court’s narrow approach, The Neurons gave me “Walk On” by U2 in the morning mental music stream. The song came out in 2000.

Sample Lyrics

And if the darkness is to keep us apart
And if the daylight feels like it’s a long way on
And if your glass heart should crack
And for a second you turn back
Oh no, be strong

Walk on, walk on
What you got they can’t steal it
No, they can’t even feel it
Walk on, walk on
Stay safe tonight

Yes, Trump is the darkness, trying to tear our nation apart.

Walk on. Stay safe. Be strong.

Cheers

2

Sunday’s Theme Music — Beginning

Sunday, August 23, 2026. Ashland, southern Oregon.

We’re again fortunate to have ‘good’ weather. Sunshine, blue skies, 74 F now, 90 F later. Some rain would be nice. Through today, we’re at 7% of normal precipitation for the year. Seven.

My wife and I greet each other many mornings with, “What’s the news? He dead yet?”

Then we laugh and say, “I know he’s not or you would have shouting the news.”

You know, this is the only person in our lifetime together — over fifty years — that we have ever said such things about. And we never specify who we’re talking about. That’s. Not. Needed.

Mom is complaining about her relationships with her daughters. “Three of them live nearby and none of them will take me to my appointments. Which will only HASTEN my death anyway.”

My sister’s daughter, May, is going to visit Mom tomorrow. We’re interested in the after-visit report. Mom helped raise May, and she and Mom had a great relationship until about four years ago. Then Mom became so angry and bitter, complaining about so many things, May declared, “I can’t do that any longer. It’s just too much.” Which is the case with my sisters and the rest of their children. Mom just became too much. I’d seen that trend developing and told Mom over and over through the last several years that all she does is complain and scold, that she’s always angry and bitter. Once she said that her partner, Frank, had just told her the same thing.

Trump has big action happening in DC with the Freedom 250 Indycar Grand Prix. It’s all part of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! He’s just trying to distract all he can from how crappy things are going. Lots of corporations are going along with him. Retail sales are down, reflecting people’s challenges with the increasing affordability of living in the US. But corporations overall are doing well, with energy and technology companies doing particularly well.

So, yes, many corporations are all in for Trump’s Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! distractions. Hey, they’re getting theirs! Make hay while the sun shines! So what if the wealth gap continues to widen, if personal bankruptices are increasing, rural hospitals are closing, measles outbreaks are increasing, and the extreme weather gets worse? Corporation execs and shareholders are making money. Later, when the situation changes, they’ll contritely reduce prices, announcing ‘we’re all in this together’.

No. We’re not. They make that clear. They’re only in it together with us if it’s going to affect their profits, and then, they’ll only act under duress.

Today’s music emerges from my dream. I didn’t hear it in the dream but as I went through the night’s third dream, I suddenly heard Karen Carpenter singing “We’ve Only Just Begun”.

That could be an apt song for now, as far as the title’s sentiment. We’re about to go through some heavy duty loads with Donald Trump. He tried staying in power when he lost his bid for re-election, encouraging his supporters to resist the bona bide election results, encouraging them to ignore the law, resulting in death and destruction while widening the trust gap and polarizing the electorate. This year, he’s been working on trying to undermine the system.

Here’s the irony: Trump is cheerleading the nation’s 250th anniversary while simultaneously undermining the system that we’ve developed and improved for 250 years, the system which actually delivered him victory — twice.

Yet, Trump keeps whining and complaining about stolen elections without evidence. Is cutting much of the federal government in order to shift loads to states because of states’ rights. Meanwhile, he’s working hard to hollow out the states’ role in the national elections, basically usurping it so he can mold it as head of the executive branch of the federal government. It’s such a naked, wanton, power grab.

Trump is doing it because he’s a failure. His policies are failures, and people are awakening to this. His only way to get ahead, as always, is to lie, cheat, and steal.

So get ready: we’ve only just begun.

May your day begin with love and happiness and end on a high note.

Cheers

7

Strange, Short Dream

I arrived at home. Not mine, but Mom’s.

It wasn’t one of the places she lived in real life, but I knew it was her house.

No one else was there. The place was messy in many places, totally opposite of anyplace I’ve lived or visited where Mom was in command.

Getting there, I found a narrow bed. White sheets, pink blanket, pillow, but unmade. I decided to sleep a bit.

A long-haired gray and white cat joined me. I talked to it in the way we do with animals, telling the cat, a male, I knew, was very handsome. The cat then *ahem* indicated that it wanted to have sex with me.

Full-blown horror lashed me. I rejected that completely, telling the cat that was sick and disgusting. I added, “You can sleep with me but as a cat, not a sexual partner.”

Unable to sleep after that, I got up and walked around, taking notice of the mess. Part of it on one end was a pond with rocks. Water fed into it but the water was scummy, full of plants and crap. Deciding I would clean it, I went off, found rags, buckets, tools.

My sisters arrived, chattering and laughing, before I could clean it but after a sort pause, I did. In dream fashion, it was miraculously fast and easy.

I showed the others. Everyone was impressed by what I’d done. Two turtles emerged from the pond. My youngest sister exclaimed, “I knew there were turtles in there.”

One turtle puked. Examining that, my sister announced with happiness, “It’s pregnant. I am so happy.”

Mom arrived shortly afterward, the middle-aged person I knew for most of my life. Her hair was blond and she was wearing black slacks with this black and white polka-dotted frilly shirt that she often liked to wear. Smiling and happy, she came in, saying hello to all of us.

Dream end

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Friday’s Theme Music — Ignored

Ashland, southern Oregon. Friday, August 21, 2026.

It’s a cool 75 F under cloudy skies right now. Looks like it could rain but rain is not in our forecast. Today’s high is expected to be 90, ten degrees lower than what we saw yesterday.

Mom is really down right now. She feels trapped and ignored, and that’s very understandable.

Mom texted me that her PCP told her she looks tired and old. Mom’s claim; don’t know if that’s what the doctor said. Mom also texted me, “I don’t want to see another birthday,” “Why won’t God let me die,” and “I don’t want a memorial service when I die. I don’t want anything.”

Mom, to me, always depended upon the structure of routines and schedules. Now her aging, medical issues, and medications has fractured her norms. She used to use cleaning as an outlet to stay on track, along with writing copious notes on her calendar about what was going on: children’s schedules and visits, appointments, bills due and paid, house and car maintenance. Those mechanisms are gone, too. She’s being told one to sleep, eat, and socialize, and she doesn’t like it. Additionally, she and her daughters who live closest to her have a huge emotional schism relating to their lives together and Mom’s choices.

Mom reacts to the gap with anger; the sisters react to Mom’s anger with more distance.

It’s like a self-fulfilling doom loop.

The closing for the sale of Mom’s house is next Tuesday at 5 PM. I texted Mom to ensure she was aware.

She didn’t respond.

Without real surprise, I see that Trump is encouraging the construction of AI and data centers. Backlash against AI/data centers is growing across the United States, creating an ideological trap for Donald Trump.

Part of this is that these types of sites take up land, water, and electricity, but nothing tangible that can be held in your hand emerges from it.

The other part of the trap is that the corporations often demand huge tax breaks and subsidies for the privilege of building there, and the locals are not usually consulted. That pisses them off, because nobody is listening to them. That was exactly the angry and emotional fodder Trump used as fuel to win their votes; he was speaking for them, ‘telling them like it is’.

Now, as others have done, Trump is ignoring them.

And it’s happening on the cusp of the midterm elections.

Those of us who understand who Trump is aren’t surprised. He used MAGA to achieve political power. Then he used that political power to enrich himself. Now he’s using it to further enrich the ultra-wealthy. There are no surprises there, if you’ve been paying attention.

Trump is breeding discontented supporters. They won’t vote for Democrats — “Never Democrats” is probably one of their most repeated mantras — but they won’t come out and vote for Trump, either.

All this thinking has The Neurons playing “Everybody Hurts” by R.E.M in my morning mental music stream. When people feel ignored, they hurt. Released in 1993, the song was written about and for teenagers and what they endure. I think it’s sensibilities are more universal than that.

Sample Lyrics

When your day is long
And the night, the night is yours alone
When you’re sure you’ve had enough
Of this life, well hang on

Don’t let yourself go
‘Cause everybody cries
Everybody hurts sometimes

Sometimes everything is wrong
Now it’s time to sing along

When your day is night alone (hold on, hold on)
If you feel like letting go (hold on)
If you think you’ve had too much
Of this life, well hang on

‘Cause everybody hurts
Take comfort in your friends
Everybody hurts

May you prosper today, enjoying peace, joy, and happiness. Hopefully, you won’t feel ignored or alone.

Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music — Little Things

Ashland, southern Oregon. Thursday, August 20, 2026.

Buckle up: supposed to be hot today, 100F. High small puffy clouds dot the blue sky. The sun feels like someone turned it up to eleven. Although it’s only 71, the ‘feels like’ is 85 F.

Spent time this morning on Watch Duty reviewing the state of wildfires in Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Nevada, and California. A depressing exercise.

Still waiting for Mom’s house to close. Gina, my sister who now oversee Mom’s finances, was complaining about how much Mom spent on Amazon on lipstick, diapers, clothes, shoe polish, and other things. Gina wanted me to tell Mom about how much money Gina thought Mom is wasting.

I said no. Not doing it. Bought Mom an Amazon gift card instead, to help her with these expenses. Mom doesn’t have much of a life these days, and now you’re pressing to nickel and dime her?

We’re into some deep WTF territory with Trump this week as he went on about flagpoles.

To be fair, his flagpole riff seemed a lot like his grass riff. He does love to declare himself an expert, knowing more than anyone, about many things.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Trump did pay $100K for these flagpoles last year. But then the servant of We the People could afford it, as he raked in $3B for his first year in office. 100K/3,000,000K = .003%

Trump is so generous, right? Especially since We the People paid about $100M for Trump’s golfing in 2025.

Trump’s gift of ‘most magnificent’ flagpoles and flags celebrated at the White House

I label the flagpoles another cheap installment of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! Trump bloviates about flagpoles as gas prices climb again. Diesel prices have jumped 15 cents to $5.47 per gallon, which adds to the cost of transporting just about everything.

But do please tell us more about the shape of your flagpole, Donald Trump.

People should know Trump is saying these things and quit treating him like he’s stable or a genius. He’s a criminal, head of a criminal enterprise. They need to wake up to that but probably won’t until Trump steals them blind.

All these things — big and little — Trump does stack up into one large mess.

I ended up with “Little Things” by Bush in my morning mental music stream. Released in 1995, it was all about how little things add up to dwarf your sense of self and what is possible.

Sample Lyrics

The river is loaded, I’ve been there today
Took it some questions, she does me again
I’d die in your arms if you were dead too
Here comes a lie, we will always be true

Going up when coming down
Scratch away-way-way-way-way

It’s the little things that kill
Tearin’ at my brain again
Oh, the little things that kill
The little things that kill

Bigger you give, bigger you get
We’re boss at denial but best at forget
The cupboard is empty, we really need food
Summer is winter and you always knew

Going up when coming down
Scratch away-way-way-way-way

It’s the little things that kill
Tearin’ at my brains again
Oh, the little things that kill
Tearin’ at my brains again

Yeah, it’s the little things that kill. Trump — and more importantly, the masterminds behind him, Heritage Foundation and Project 2025 — knows this.

May you surmount the little things with peace and grace today and every day.

Cheers

0

Wednesday’s Theme Music — Frank Beard

Ashland, southern Oregon. Wednesday, August 19, 2026.

August is moving on slow as molasses for me. I’m okay with that.

The claim is that it’ll be 96 F today. Forecasts yesterday said we’d hit 95 but we were four short of that. It’s 68 outside with high clouds clotting across the blue sky.

Our fingers are crossed that Mom’s house will finally close today. The buyers are using a grant to buy. The involved realtors say that the grant review and approval process has significantly slowed this year. It’s a federal program. A large part of me wonders if the Trump administration with its personnel cutbacks is responsible.

I’m not going to go into news and politics much on this post today. Writing a separate post on them.

I’m dedicating this instead to ZZ Top and Frank Beard. ZZ Top is an American rock band which had a heavy blues influence in its early years. They were a trio: Billy Gibbons, Dusty Hill, and Frank Beard. I started listening to them in high school. Saw them in concert a few times. Now only Billy Gibbons, lead vocalist, guitar, and song writer remains as Frank Beard, 77, joined Dusty Hill in that big gig in the otherworld.

I basically divide ZZ Top’s sound into two eras. In their early years was that blues sound. Multiple favorite songs hang with me from that period. For today, I’ll go with “La Grange” and “Jesus Left Chicago”.

The second period moved ZZ Top more into commercial mainstream pop. They became phenomenally successful. My preferred sound from that era was “Sharp Dressed Man”, which my wife and I liked to sing as ‘short, fat man’.

So here we go, into the morning mental music stream. May your day be blessed with happy memories of good music and good times, and optimism for our future.

Cheers

0

Tuesday’s Theme Music — What’s up

Ashland, southern Oregon. Tuesday, August 18, 2026.

We’re back from the coast. Cool there — usually in the 60s. Yesterday made it to the 90s F after our return; we expect more of the same, with the temperature reaching the mid 90s today. Right now, still feels like the coast, minus that fresh air scent. 65 F but already feels like 71.

Mom’s house will close tomorrow. Maybe. I hope; the delays are ratcheting up everyone’s nerves. We’re on edge because if it doesn’t sell, here we go again. I also feel for the people waiting to buy. I imagine what they’re going through. Mom is sad about losing her home, and I understand that, but I’m looking at the flip side, of the people who thought, here is the answer we’ve been seeking.

Getting back into the normal groove. Making a list of things to do around the house. Must replace my wife’s lost phone. That’s job 1.

Meanwhile, though, get caught back up on the news. What is Trump up to now?

Trump has fingers in everything. New taser mittens for ICE agents. Terrific. Starting another war somewhere while ditching an old trusted and reliable ally in South Korea? Sure, that’s Trump all over, with allegiance only to himself.

Having wrecked the White House east wing and paved over the historic Rose Garden, Trump is destroying the south lawn. Already looking bad due to his various ‘functions’ on it — which of course, he blames on vandals, now becoming one of his favorite old man words — he’s going to ‘fix it’.

I already cringe at the idea that Trump will try to fix something else. Look how he ‘fixed’ the Oval House, plastering gold all over. Recall how Trump fixed the economy: the number of the employed is falling, the national debt is rising, and the affordability crisis is spreading like an unchecked tumor.

Or look how Trump fixed crypto. Made himself and his family wealthier while others — well, not so much.

Look how Trump ‘fixed’ Iran, by bombing it to the point that the US’s munitions were seriously depleted. Look how Trump fixed the navy (exhibit number 1: USS Abraham Lincoln, or the USS Benford) and the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool.

Someone captured Heather Cox Richardson’s conclusions about our current state in a graphic.

Here’s classic Trump Double Standards:

Trump votes by mail again in his home state of Florida

As with everything else Trump, there is no evidence to his delusional claims. It’s just more Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!, more squirming to avoid the truth and facts, and more scheming to gain and keep wealth and power for himself.

Just as Trump claimed that the ballroom was being built as a monument to himself and then shifted to claim it’s about security.

Just as Trump claimed he would never golf after criticizing President Obama for golfing. Yet, Trump has golfed 27% of his second term.

As an aside, what’s the latest on Mitch McConnell? Back from the dead yet? How ’bout the Epstein files? Trump fulfill that promise yet?

After that thinking, the morning mental music stream occupant is by Four Non-Blondes. I was talking about this song the other night. The Neurons made a note. When I said to myself, coffee in hand, “Okay, let’s see what’s up,” the song “What’s Up” began playing.

It’s a good song for the times.

Sample Lyrics

And I try, oh, my God, do I try?
I try all the time, in this institution
And I pray, oh, my God, do I pray?
I pray every single day for revolution

And so I cry sometimes when I’m lying in bed
Just to get it all out, what’s in my head
And I, I am feeling a little peculiar
And so, I wake in the morning and I step outside
And I take a deep breath and I get real high
And I scream from the top of my lungs, “What’s going on?”

And I say, hey-ey-ey, hey-ey-ey
I said, “Hey, what’s going on?”
And I say, hey-ey-ey, hey-ey-ey
I said, “Hey, a-what’s going on?”

Now off to write.

I hope your day is complete with peace, grace, good foods, and good weather.

Cheers

2

Almost Bookends

My sister, Gina, sent some photos out to the family this morning. They’re almost bookends of Mom’s adult life.

This is Mom with her first born, my older sister, Debby.

This is actually a photo of a photo that hung on the wall. Mom is 19.

Here is Mom with me and my wife at Mom’s house about twenty years ago, in much happier times for Mom.

What’s wild in thinking about this photo is that I was fifty and Mom was my current age, 70.

That’s why taking these photos, which may not mean much at the time, can become timeless and special.

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