Thirstdaz Theme Music

We’re again into the territory in the United States called ‘Thanksgiving’ or ‘Thanksgiving Day’. Shrouded with mythology, embedded in gluttony, wrapped with consumerism, T-day has become complicated for many in the U.S. My wife can’t stand the holiday but participates instead in an annual Friendsgiving. It’s just Thanksgiving with a different label. The essence of gathering and eating is unchanged. For the record, my spouse despises Thanksgiving for the cruelty to animals done in its name, and for the celebration of overeating done while so many go wanting. I respect her opinions. For me, Thanksgiving is filled with nostalgia. Mom loved cooking and feeding her family and having us all together. That’s when she was always at her best. So I have great memories of those times. Later, as I rose in rank, we always opened our door to younger military members and shared Thanksgiving with them. Plenty of good memories swirl around those days, too. So, it’s complicated. Let me put this to you: I’ve thankful for what I have and what I had. I’m hopeful that we can create a world where accumulating wealth and power will finally give way to keeping us all healthy and safe, regardless of holiday, nation, or any of the many qualifications too many people attach to who they’re willing to help.

For Thanksgiving in Ashlandia, the weather is complicated but typical. Sunny with blue skies and clouds. Rain might show up later. Temp hovering around 50 F may get up to 58 F. Average and complicated. This is Thirstda, November 27, 2025.

Thoughts of home and reflections about last night’s dreams prompted The Neurons to bring up “Can’t Find My Way Home”. This Blind Faith song came out well over fifty years ago. It still feels right. I went with a cover with Steve Winwood and Tom Petty. Hope you give it a listen.

Funny to read this story this morning:

Trump VP’s old tweet comes back to haunt him

A four-year-old social media post from now-Vice President J.D. Vance has resurfaced online, putting him under fresh scrutiny.

~snip~

In 2016, Vance was openly critical of Trump’s candidacy and at one point referred to him as “America’s Hitler,” a remark that has repeatedly resurfaced since he joined the ticket.

~snip~

Then comes another headline in the story:

A complicated history between Trump and Vance

Nothing complicated about it. Vance sold out for money, power, and position, and willingly and eagerly advanced Trump’s lies to advance himself. In short, Vance demonstrated he lacks principles. Simplest story in the world. Vance isn’t an exception. We’ve seen this with multiple Republicans. After disparaging Trump, they’ve united behind him and stand with him, except for a few outliers, as this 2016 WaPo story attests.

The tortured things GOP Senate candidates have said about Donald Trump, to date

Hope your Thanksgiving provides something for you to be thankful for, and they you enjoy a good, a good month, a good coming year. May peace and grace find us today and every day. Cheers

Fridaz Wandering Thoughts

Mom and sis are coping and adjusting, per usual. Mom is an interesting case. When she’s doing well, she’s happy on her own. When she’s doing poorly, she gets crabby and wants visitors. But her crabbiness repels people, so they stay away. Not a good dynamic.

So many things must be tended for Mom. The emptying and cleaning of her house, of course, and then putting it on the market. Those are expected, straightforward, but work. The matters causing the most headaches and frustrations are these modern matters. Changing phone plans because Mom’s phone was on Frank’s plan. Canceling her internet and cable. Those things were done online, through passwords and account numbers and usernames and things like that. Mom has it written down but it’s all been changed so many times because they changed systems or the passwords expired, or it didn’t work for God knows why, as Mom would say.

Then there are the prescription drugs. Sam’s Club is Mom’s pharmacy. Frank was her delivery system. Now sis is her delivery system, but sis doesn’t have the time to make regular runs like Frank did. These things can be delivered but the co-pay must be paid for. Does Mom have a credit card on file? Yes, she does, she says, no, you don’t, the pharmacy replies. Back and forth they go, driving sis insane.

It all makes me think. Mom is but twenty years older than me, and the way my health is trending…LOL. I think, I must be better prepared. Sure, passwords are written down and secured but they must be found by whoever is taking care of me at that point.

Maybe it’ll be AI or a bot assisting me by that point. A Medibot. Watching AI and bots in action at this stage, though, I’m not reassured. Maybe, maybe, they’ll have it worked out in twenty years.

Time will tell. Always does, doesn’t it?

Mom’s Lament

I know it’s written down

It just must be found

I put it here somewhere

But you know it could be anywhere

I go through this everyday

Looking for things in the wrong place

Searching high and low as they say

Different day but the same ol’ thing

If I ever find it, I’ll tell you what I’ll do

Wait, what was I looking for?

I haven’t got a clue.

The Leaves Dream

I dreamed I was at Mom’s house. We were all younger, and this was all pre-Frank. Mom’s beau never showed in the dream. Lots of others did. All four sisters. Wife didn’t show. Many, many friends throughout the years came and went.

The first stage was a big party. Mom and my sisters were present for that. Then they left, having had to go away somewhere for a day or two. With them gone, the party got bigger and crazier. Heaps of food were being consumed, along with beer and wine. Music and laughter boomed. Then the party wound down. I began cleanup. One other, a generic skinny old gray white guy, was there helping. Then he disappeared. As I walked around, cleaning, where the heck did he go? Then I found him, asleep in a chair that was flipped over. Well, let him slept, I thought.

Meanwhile, so many leaves were present. The levels astonished me. Drifts and piles of leaves were everywhere in the house. A gray and white kitten went through them, playing, then pranced outside through the open back door. I followed, peeking out to ensure it was a safe place for a kitten. It was a fenced yard with pea rock at the bottom. Tiered with cinder blocks, plants were in neat, ordered arrangements. I identified green peppers, tomatoes, lettuce, and realized, this is my sister’s garden. I then left the door open for the kitten to go in and out and resumed cleaning, taking a vacuum cleaner hose around to suck up leaves.

My friend woke up and apologized for falling asleep, explaining, “It was just a long day.” He began helping. At that point, Mom and my sisters arrived back home. There were still leaves to clean but they were hungry. I looked for leftovers to give them. My older sister asked for coffee, and I began making a bot. Mom asked if I’d checked the mail, which I admit, was the furthest thing from my mind, and then continued asking people, did anyone get the mail?

That’s where the dream ended.

In the waking aftermath, the dream amused me more than anything. I thought it about life and change, and considered it very heavy-handed of my Dream Neurons to present so many leaves, thinking they represented the days gone by and the leaves of change.

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Windy, sunny, foggy, chilly, cloudy. That’s Wenzda in a string of weather words. Also noisy with someone’s machine droning out a long song. Birds are scarce. Papi did a floofstep this AM, bouncing to the door when opened to gallop out, he slammed on the paws, and backed himself back into the house. He no like wind. The numbers for today, November 12, 2025, are 54, 56, and 52. Seriously. That’s what I was told is our current temp, and the high and low, all in Fahrenheit.

Mom is doing so much better now. While sis related that to me, she’s returned to texting with me, and they’re much more intelligent and thoughtful. She texts, “You’ll never know how much I miss Frank.” I will not, but my mind can give it some insights. They were together as a 24/7 couple for most of two decades, sharing meals and jokes, opinions and rants, tending each other when sick or recovering. I do get it but I won’t ever know all the ways he was there for her. I’m happy they were together, because I saw how happy they made one another.

As for me yesterday, I gut tested more food offerings and felt pretty confident that all was going well. At least, no overt reversals took place telling me otherwise. I call that a win. I’ve also noticed I have much higher energy levels now, sleep better, and think better. I still dream a huge amount but that’s something else. Bottom lining it, the surgery definitely was for the best.

Today’s music is “Love Runs Out”. That started in my head, “until the floof runs out.” I found Papi’s wind reaction very funny, which he, an austere cat with a measured gaze, did not find amusing. But when I chuckled about his reversal and sang a bit of half-remembered tune with my inserted words, The Neurons said, “Oh, that’s One Republic, here we go,” and delivered the melody to the morning mental music stream.

Haven’t checked the news. Enjoying the morning so much, I thought I’d give myself a reprieve before I submitted to seeing what fresh political bullshit the Trump Regime lays on the world. Far as I know, the Trump Epstein Shutdown of 2025 is still going on, and the GOP is giving a pass to Trump’s unsavory character and hiding his crimes, making them his accomplices. But hey, they got that Jesus thing going for them, right? “Who would Jesus be cruel to,” they ask themselves daily, and gleefully respond, “Everyone who is not us!” The GOP is a depraved bunch. Sure, there may be a few who are not, but given their silence and/or active participation of the GOP mass, they’re rarer than a daisy in Antarctica.

Epstein and Trump, forever together.

Coffee is serenading Les Neurons. Hope peace and grace find their way out of the wilderness and back into our lives. Meanwhile, here we go. Time to rock on. Cheers

Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

Repercussions. Ripples. Collateral effects.

I was thinking about Mom. She wasn’t doing well in June, August, September. Not answering texts and phone calls. Falling a lot. Not mentally sharp.

Frank was alive and caring for her then. But a few weeks before his penultimate accident, he told Mom, “Pretty soon, I’m going to be too weak to take care of you.” Then Frank fell in October and passed away a few weeks later.

Looking back, as Mom recovers now, I can see how his decline affected Mom’s decline. I’d always believed that would happen. Their life together wasn’t sustainable. Both were aging, their health and energy declining. I discussed it with them but they wouldn’t change their ways. Change is hard. Then it’s forced on you by powers beyond your control.

Frank fell. Died. Mom went loopy. Was removed from her home and placed in a new situation. Now she’s doing better.

Lesson learned? No. Just more realization about life and change, and the creatures we are.

Fridaz Theme Music

Say, are we are the moors? Gloomy fog is dulling the morning’s edge. Tattered golden leaves brown, slumping and slipping, waiting for their day’s end. Today’s present, high, and low come in a compact range of 47, 53, and 40 degrees F. Without sunshine bursting through the windows, the house feels cold and listless. Here’s a photo of an early August morning in Yachats as counterbalance.

Mom’s continued improvement keeps reaching new heights. Frank’s death really shook her into a stumbling, falling, thoughtless wreck. I’m so happy sis noticed and moved her. Mom was ready to move by then, having experienced days of relative solitude and helplessness. One amusing sidebar to this whole tale. While I was over collecting papers and tidying, I came across a wooden box full of coins. Knowing Mom, I knew she’d be worried about it and took it to her. When I showed it to my sister, she said, “Yes, Mom was asking about her box of coins.” Sis cashed in it for almost $200. Cracked me up to see her still saving her coins like that. So Mom.

Mom & Frank, circa 20 years ago, Florida. She would have been ’bout 70, and he was ’bout 75.

The Neurons surprised me today with a beat from my early rock ‘n roll years. Looking out into the fog brought “Into the Sun” by Grand Funk Railroad into the morning mental music stream. With its simple progressions, you can see why it was one of the first songs I learned to decently play. Video of this early rock and its style fires up The Neurons. It’s an upbeat song, too, about better days ahead.

Ate oatmeal today, and apple sauce and tapioca pudding last night. Progress!

I have been reading about politics and news. Many disturbing trends continue under the Trump Regime. The economy and voters are both reacting in negative ways. Trump will probably double down and get crueler. He thinks he’s inflicting severe damage on blue voters and believes that red voters will endure despite their sacrifices and hang with him. I think that base is smaller and weaker than he realizes. Affordability, not inflation and not prices, are the new watchwords, and affordability is falling fast. Meanwhile, the Epstein Shutdown slogs on, now doing far more harm than good. Coupled with the pressures that AI is putting on the infrastructure, especially the power grid, and the job market — see the record layoffs reported by Challenger — disaster is looming. We are circling the Trump drain. I know I’ve been saying that since the beginning. It’s not been as fast as I thought it would be; part of that was that some countries and stores were offsetting tariff increases by sucking them up. That was never sustainable. Nothing I see emerging from this current mess changes my mind. One key that Trump and his Project 2025 minions don’t appreciate is the economic workhorse that the Federal government is. As it slows, it casts a shadow across the nation. With air travel now also impacted, airlines will see less revenue, pay less taxes, and might be forced to reduce staffs.

Smirking BFFs, J. Epstein and D.J. Trump, so happy together.

The bogus Walmart comparison about Thanksgiving for 2024 compared to 2025 does nothing. Critical thinkers already noted that there were far fewer items in the cart. Yes, classic Trump Republicanism: do more, spend more, and get less value for your dollar. Classic enshittification. I note that the red publications reported Trump’s claim almost verbatim. No critical thinker there, or the falsehoods will be on full display.

I saw that Fox News’s selection of Melania Trump as the ‘Patriot of the Year’. Sure demonstrates their cynicism. By the words and deeds, they so devalue patriotism that it’s now a full joke. Sadly, MAGA will probably not see how the joke is on them.

This was what the first criminal said when accepting the award.

“Let’s embrace the spirit of ambition. Let’s celebrate everyone who dares to think differently. For it is these courageous Americans who are the heartbeat of our civilization.”

It’d be ironic if she and Trump and MAGAland had any self-awareness that she’s ‘celebrating everyone who dares to think differently’ while the Trump Regime works so hard to whitewash all history and success and cancel anyone who was or is different, such as blacks, Muslims, women, gays, trans…well, you get it.

Have the best day you can. Many peace and grace will do a pop in on you. Off to my first cuppa coffee in a few. Cheers

Thirstdaz Theme Music

Through the fog creeps Thirstda, November 11, 2025. 52/57/48 are the numbers for the day: present, high, low. It’s a remarkably narrow range, with fog and clouds gaining the lower hand over the sun’s position as an influencer.

Mom continues to improve and impress, according to sis. Had her first PT session today and did great! Wife, on the other hand, is not doing well, in her words. Not surprising for me. She and stress aren’t good friends. Her anxiety climbs and she becomes physically challenged with a great deal of pain. She’s working through her protocols to cope. As for me, other than physical limitations and restricted diet, I feel fab. Didn’t do much yesterday except nibble on crackers and binge on a series called “Suspicions” with short naps. Found I wasn’t comfortable sitting at the desk, as that strained my abs, so the planned typing didn’t come about. Tried other places and positions but all felt wrong and I didn’t have enough to push through. Part of this is because my wife gave a steady stream of reminders not to do too much. I didn’t want to add to her stress, so I backed off.

I also ate too many crackers, I think. I had some vegan, gluten-free vegetarian broth. No flavor, at all. Really disappointing, so I went back to the crackers. We had picked up some TJ’s garlic-flavored naan crackers, water wafers, and something from Costco, potato crackers seasoned with seaweed. I didn’t think much of the water wafers, but my taste buds highly rated the other two.

Plans today are to catch up on writing, reading, and blogging. I finished reading my last two books, both fiction on my travels. Gravity’s Rainbow is available at long last. Yes, I confess, I haven’t read the classic. Found it in the library system and put it on hold back in July. I began reading a terrific (so far) historical fiction book by Amy Stewart called Woman Waits with Gun. Ironically, I’d purchased it at Half-Priced Books in Monroeville on the 2023 visit to attend my nephew’s marriage in Pittsburgh. I know this because the receipt was inside. It sat in the TBR stack by the bed until I came back from Pittsburgh. I’d just finished a romantasy and a crime thriller and needed a read, and ‘lo, there it was.

Over on streaming land, we are into the latest season of “Slow Horses” and “Down Cemetery Road” and are ready to begin “King and Conqueror” and the latest season of “Diplomat”. This is augmented by “The Graham Norton Show” and rewatching “Would I Lie to You”. I cut the last short because laughing and coughing really rile my incisions.

Today’s music is out of dreamland again. The Neurons, looking over my shoulder as I reviewed my strange and amusing dream, came up with “Rocket” by the Smashing Pumpkins, in the morning mental music stream. That was sort of funny on their part, as I’d been dreaming about being on a spaceship. I’ve gone through this before, dreaming of being traveling in space, then awakening to bafflement about where I am.

Another of my dreams was very short. This was about kittens gamboling on me, mewing until I got up to feed them. I thought there were two kittens but when I put out the food, four more appeared with sharp cries, “Me, too!” I rhetorically responded, “How many kittens do we have,” as one more little grey fluff of floof waddled in. That was all the dream offered.

I’ve been looking at news but don’t have many thoughts on it at this point. Trump is being Trump, as far as I can tell, with all the mendacity, greed, and arrogance that implies.

Hope peace and grace find their way out of the fog to you. My body is suggesting it’s time to lay down again. Think I’ll do as it says. Cheers

Twozdaz Theme Music

Twozda, November 4, 2025, has pounced on us like a kitten hunting a leaf. 51 F in Ashlandia, rain clouds hide the sun. Rain is expected to visit off and on throughout the day. More leaves are surrendering to time, filling the ground with fading, decaying colors.

Mom continues to be lively back in Pennsylvania, according to sis. Which is thought by all of us to be good. Thought I’d share this photo of her from her 90th birthday. Yes, that’s a kitchen knife in her hand.

Mom, 90 birthday celebration, October, 2025

Today’s music is owed to a dream. This was one of those long, movie-like dreams my mind spins to entertain me while I slip. In this one, I was part of a group of young people. We’d found some books, then realized there was significance to the books, and then, ‘lo, a book was missing. We knew who collected the books, so we thought we’d recreate the journey he took to collect the books. Maybe that would reveal the missing book. We were traveling by train and car mostly, and yes, the travel took us behind the old ‘Iron Curtain’ into previous nations controlled by the Soviet Union. There was romance and comedy along with suspense. It reminded me of the 1980s Dabney Coleman film, Cloak & Dagger.

Anyway, my amused reflection of the dream triggered The Neurons into offering songs about spies in the morning mental music stream. After considering different music, The Neurons concluded that Carly Simon and “Nobody Does It Better” is the best choice.

Dick Cheney died. I was surprised. Thought he’d died in the 1990s. I knew he’d been re-animated to be Veep under Dubya, but I thought that spell wore off once he was removed from office. He was only 84, which also surprised me because he often seemed very old. The tributes will pour in for him. They’ll gloss over what he did to help forge a path to our current mess and speak of his service to the nation. Few will mention how extremely wealthy and powerful he became as part of that service. He did speak out against Trump in the 2024 elections and endorsed Kamela Harris. Just noting that.

Speaking of Trump, the Trump created Epstein Government Shutdown of 2025 rolls on. As someone else predicted, Trump became TACO and yielded somewhat on SNAP. Judges ruled that he must pay it but I think it’s most likely he’s doing it due to voters turning against MAGA politicians who worried about losing their seats, which might lead to the House flipping in 2026. Like others, I think Stephen Miller strongly influences Trump, and that having people die from starvation, even if in red states, is okay with the Regime. Death from starvation will make people more desperate and pliable, is their reasoning. That reasoning then goes, those folks will be willing to work for lower wages and can probably be pressed into service doing jobs that migrant workers used to do. Yes, the Trump Regime is trying to create a class of low-wage slave labor, like we had in ‘the good old days’, and thus help ‘make Amurica great again’. Sickening. Bet Epstein is smirking down on Trump, or up on him, depending on your thoughts about the afterlife.

Breaking News:

Trump Says He’ll Defy Court Order And Won’t Give Out SNAP Benefits

In a Truth Social post, Trump said Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program benefits “will be given only when the Radical Left Democrats open up government, which they can easily do, and not before!”

There’s the TACO we know! Breaking the law, breaking the law. Not taking responsibility. Blaming someone else, as he always does. And screwing We the People.

Analysis I’ve read said that not paying SNAP will disproportionately affect his beloved MAGA base. Of course, in Trump’s altered reality, SNAP recipients are all scammers, people illegally in the United States, or people on drugs. The Trump Regime dismisses the idea that income-challenged families and individuals, the disabled, and children depend on SNAP. That administration is deliberately, maliciously, and dangerously warped.

Off I go. Hope grace and peace spring out from their hiding places and embrace us all. Till then, I’ll coffee up. Cheers

Sundaz Theme Music

November 2, 2025, has taken hold. It firmly established that today’s season is autumn. Golden leaves are becoming golden brown leaf drifts. Naked branches shiver with the wind. 45 F now, worry not because today’s high will zoom to 57 F. Must say, yesterday’s 68 felt like a faux offering.

We lit a candle for Steve at 5 PM yesterday, per his widow’s request. That flame called to mind Frank, but also Chuck. Chuck is Bonnie’s hubby. I met him but twice, I think. Now he’s into hospice. Mom, meanwhile, has bounced back in a strong way. Physical therapy is being scheduled. This is Mom’s way, to bounce back, gain confidence and strength, only to be zapped by some new fall, injury, or organ issue. Been going on for a decade. Each time she bottoms out, it’s a little deeper, and the crawl out is slower and more energy consuming. We talked together about an actor dying when they were 100, June Lockhart. Mom said, “I don’t think I’ll get anywhere near that,” with glum introspection.

Today’s music is another gift of The Neurons. “I Wouldn’t Want to Be Like You” is a 1977 Alan Parsons Project creation. The song popped up in the morning mental music stream as I read about Trumpy’s Halloween gala, the one thrown while so many sink deeper into food insecurity.

Here are the lyrics, offered up by Songmeanings.

If I had a mind to
I wouldn’t want to think like you
And if I had time to
I wouldn’t want to talk to you

I don’t care
What you do
I wouldn’t want to be like you

If I was high class
I wouldn’t need a buck to pass
And if I was a fall guy
I wouldn’t need no alibi

I don’t care
What you do
I wouldn’t want to be like you

Back on the bottom line
Diggin’ for a lousy dime
If I hit a mother lode
I’d cover anything that showed

I don’t care
What you do
I wouldn’t want to be like you

I did a glance of the news. Did Trump recall the time he landed on the moon? He was the first one there, took the first steps for man, “Beautiful steps,” he said, “everyone told me they were the most perfect steps. They couldn’t believe how perfect they are.”

I imagine that somewhere in Trump’s altered reality, he’s a great friend to people of color and a champion to the poor. Bet he remembers marching across the bridge and standing for integration at Selma. Bet he recalls a time when he landed at Normandy and fought the Germans, who, he thought, “Were pretty good guys, really, just working hard, doing their jobs.” Trump believes with a glint of teary eyes, he is as persecuted as Jesus, nailed to a cross. Then he wipes the tears away, visits his new cold, black and white, dull, creativity-empty bathroom, beaming at its wonderful hard angles and linear symmetry, and then goes out and golfs, because he deserves a break. MAGAts everywhere breathlessly applaud, then hurry to buy meat before the prices go up, happy they have an extra freezer to store it because it’s gonna get pricy, they’ve heard the fake news, scowling at the homeless, stepping around the poor, reminding themselves to clean the house, because cleanliness is next to godliness.

Meanwhile, is that Epstein in the clouds, smirking at Trump, remembering how they used to run together, shaking his head with a laugh and whispering, “Oh, that Donnie. He never changes. He just gets more Donnie.” Perhaps someday they’ll meet and Trump will regale Epstein with details about how he starved the poor during the Great Epstein Government Shutdown of 2025. “You should’ve seen them, Jeffie,” Trump says, then launches into a mocking imitation of a person begging for food. “Please, we’re starving.” The two bodies shake with merriment.

Hope grace and peace find us today and every day. Even for just a nano. Coffee has found me and is shaking hands with some Neurons, making plans. I’m sure they’ll let me know what’s going on in a little bit. Cheers

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